IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) / O ^ 'A 1.0 I.I 1.25 If: liM t 1^ IIM 1.8 1-4 IIIIII.6 <^ W n /> o 7 /A V ^^ ^9> V ^^ \ \ ^^^ ^^^ ri? k id. CIHM/ICMH Microfiche Series. CIHM/ICMH Collection de microfiches. Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions Institut canadien de microreproductions historiques 1980 Technical Notes / Notes techniques The Institute has attempted to obtain the best original copy available for filming. Physical features of this copy which may alter any of the images in the reproduction are checked below. □ D D Coloured covers/ Couvertures de couleur Coloured maps/ Cartes gSographiques en couleur Pages discoloured, stained or foxed/ Pages d6color6es, tachetdes ou piqudes Tight binding (may cause shadows or distortion, along interior margin)/ Reliure serrd (peut causer de I'ombre ou de la distortion le long de la marge int^rieure) L'Institut a microfilm^ le meilleur exemplaire qu'il lui a 6t6 possible de se procurer. 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Le diagramme suivant illustre la mdthode : 1 2 3 1 2 3 4 5 6 «^'^^'^>^/*3:t.52^ -\ .'A' i i: 1 YMM* ir"-k4 f « *•*--•* * - «iMp« •'^k.'t .V»J?^; ...J /7 J* -\^-^- % '— *• ,,-.A^ .V2 ^^•'iSv- "*--;< ..t. V- ^r SONGS OF ALL SEASONS, CLIMES AND TIMES, A MOTLEY JINGLE OF JUMBLED RHYMES. BY MRS. JOHJN^ CKAWFOKD. ROSE PUBLISHING COMPANY, 1890. n Entered according to the Act ot tne ckAWKoku, at the Depurt- thousand eight hundred and ninety, by M. M. ment of Agriculture. '\ TO THE READER. HERE arc two things about a book which T always skip, — the preface and the moral. If the public are like me therein, I shall not feel ^/ieved if they only read what comes between the two. A preface is either an explanation or an excuse. If an explanation, it does for the book what ex- planation does for a joke, — takes the pith out of it. If an excuse, it shows that the writer considers an apoloffy necessary. I cannot make an explanation of the contents of this little book, which I offer to the reader, for I don't see any need of it. It might be in better taste to offer an apology for placing such ci ude ideas before the public, but tiiat, too, I forbear. To those who read it, the book will be its own ex- planation and apology. And the book which does not convey its own meaning and moral, should neither be written nor read. The Author. C ( ) N T K N T S. I'AGE . L'Envoi, .. .. .. ,) TiiK Bhkton- Mariner's Pijaykk, . 10 - !' A SoNo OF TFiK Sea, . u ; A Sailor's Wikk, • 13 !: UNhlNlSHEL), . 14 ^f . IG j Standing by tiik Ska, "TiiK Lass that Lo\ ks a Sailck,'' . 17 1 A Dreaai-Ship, . 18 1 Cazbnovia Lake, . 1^) l!i Standing on thk Beac k, • 21 i, In iVIy Garden, But Yesterday, .23 . h In the Blossomed Chestnut, • 24 I, Longing, • ' 2^ 1 ■Just at the End of the Road, . 20 1 A Summer Memory, .27 ' 1 A June Morning, . 28 HoDiE MiHr, . . . 29 Do You Remember ? . . . 31 In Memoriam, . 32 Williams, . 33 . 34 The River of Life, . . • i1 VI Content^. \\ w I i; Thk DviNd Day, Our Good Qukkn, Nelson, For My Pastor, Leavk Me Not Ykt, . . In a Lily*s Cui', The Shower, At Horeb's Rock, Invocation, 1 Lay Mk Down to Sleep, My Old Home, My Southland, What Shali- 1 Offer Thee ( O, Bonny Moon, Death, Jessie, For Kitty, Memento Mori, The Hidden Grave, Waiting, Maysie, Newton Hill, Old Letters, Deserted, A Diar.B, A Wei>ding Gift, A Wedding Benediction, Un Fait Accompli, A Wedding Wish, Alone, Greeting to Cleveland, PAGE . 'MS 138 39 40 42 43 44 45 47 48 48 49 50 51 52 54 55 56 57 58 59 61 62 63 64 , 63 . 66 . 67 . 67 . 69 . 70 /, »' i* M 1, Contents. «• vn • PAOK He Comks Not Yet, . . . . . . . . . . 71 ROSEMAKY, . 71 My Boy from the Banks of Annan, . 72 Album Vekseh, . 73 Waitin<;, . 75 Sabbath Chimes, . 75 Lady Maude, . 70 The Recall, . . t i ToG. A. R., . 78 Motherhood, . 78 The Snow, . 79 New Year Sono, . 81 Old Year, Good-Bye, . 82 The DYiN(i Year, . 83 Ohrjstmas Bells, . 85 A New Year Dream, . . . 80 A Winter Nicjht, . 89 A Valentine, . 90 Standing in the Snow, . 92 Promise, . 93 Dethroned, . 94 An Easter Offering, . 90 An April Eve, . 100 A Little Grave, . 100 Dedication, . 101 The Old Man for His Young Wife Dead, . 103 A Reverie, . 104 In Late October, . 105 A Memory of Late November, . 106 Courage, . . . . ,— . 107 The Old Soldier, . 108 vm (yontents. G(K)f) Night, TlIK RkD RlUliON TlK, ]V1lS(M)N(KPTl0N, Tk.m pek.\N(J k Toi'ics, PAGE . no . Ill . 113 . 114 SONGS OF ALL SEASONS, CLIMES AND TIMES. ® X L' ENVOI. SENT on the sea a ship one day, Laden with hope, love, and joy ; Of all good wishes I made a crew/ And the Captain, a beardless boy. 'Twas a silly venture of mine, they said, ^ The greybeards who saw it go ; But I cared for the counsel of none, not I! I feared not the face of woe. I've waited and watched, this many a day, For my ship to return to me ; But the white-winged bird of the deep glides on Over life s treacherous sea. ^ 'i^ '!.^^^^ ''^^'^'''' • ^^ • ^^« ^^y ^^a.s so bright Mrth fair, and the sky so blue, ' 10 Songs of all Seasons. When I saw my good ship from the shore glide away And lessen, then vanish from view. I am told by those who are wiser than I, That my ship and its cargo are gone ; But I still wait and watch, and hope for the day When my Captain and crew will return 1 THE BRETON MARINER'S PRAYER. " Keep me, my God ! My boat is so small and Thy ocean is so wide ! " While mj'" tiny bark shall ride O'er Thy ocean, deep and wide. Keep me, my God ! Let me be Full of holy faith in Thee ! Ah ! so small and weak mv bark, And Thy waves so cold and dark ! Heaving now in mighty wrath, Now a smooth and shining path ! O'er Thy waves my small ship sails. Grant, Great Captain, pleasant gales ; Still the tempests, howling wild, Send me safe to wife and child. Then, when darksome Death comes on, Grant me, God, through Thy dear Son, Safe to reach Thy port of peace, Where all storms and sorrows cease ! k\ mm A Song of the Sea. 11 A SO]NG OF THE SEA. " Poet, sing me a song of tho sea, Where my good ship glides gay and free ; Where my sailor sings in the snowy shrouds, Heedless of storms or darkening clouds, That cast on the waters a sombie hue, Yet my vessel gaily dashes through. Yet sing not of storms or scowling waves That cover so many poor sailors' graves ; Make the picture bright, like the beaming ray Which the sun's eye throws on this still, shut bay t " "Ah, maiden! Let thy young life be Afar from the world's great noisy sea ! Be always as now, fair, pure and gay, Contented to dwell near thy little bay. No wild winds wail o'er its surface small. Thy tiny bark may go safe through all. Think not of that vessel, bold and free. That stems the storm of the wide, dark sea ; Think not of that sailor who climbs the mast. Singing gay songs with no thought of the past. " That vessel may sink at last, little maid ! It may go down when the storm is stayed. Though it weather the gale, v/ith each set sail Untouched, unharmed by the wind's loud wail ; It may go down with no wave on the sea, When sailor and storm sleep peacefully. A strange, wild mystery is that wave, Voiceful yet silent, mirthful yet grave ; All moods and changes are centred there, Fickle and false, uncertain as air; 12 Songs of all Seasons. And the dwellers upon it are apt to bo Unstable and cold, like the briny sea. Then let it sing its anthem grand, And, little maiden, content thee on land. Or, at most, let thy shallop at close of day Find a port on the shore of this still, shut ba3\ Choose thou a lover upon the shore. Whom no storms of passion. will e'er sweep o'er; Live thou apart in this quiet vale, Brave not thou, maiden, the world's rude gale." " Ah ! Poet, thou singest a saddening song ! I love a sailor — have loved him long. Would'st thou cissume that the sailor free Partakes of the sea's inconstancy ? If so, then is the land lover cold, Because he partakes of the earth's green mold. All sink under great calamity, Then why not my ship go down at sea ? When timbers are rotten and sails all torn. Why drift o'er the sea a thing forlorn ? Nay ! rather sink and proudly die Than float to be scorned by the world's proud eye. That my sailor is true has been tried and shown , So are ever those who have danger known. Only cowards live in inglorious ease, Brave spirits breast many tumultuous seas. This life is only a rolling sea Far reaching out to eternity ; Some ships ride on the crest of the waves. And their crews and captains seek gallant graves ; Some, lured by the shining yellow sand. Ride near, till the gale drives them on the land. Some cannot stand the sea':^ rude shock, So, crouching, are dashed upon the rock. The Sailors Wife, Some little boats may sail on the bay, But for mo, let me ride in my ship away Away, far out on the deep, l)lue sea, There only is safety, security ! " 13 THE SAILOR'S WIFE. Bv-LOW, my bab}', by-low-by ! Your father's shij) 's at anchor nigh ; How gaily it rides on the glassy waves That cover so many poor sailors' graves I His heart is at anchor, his hopes are stayed On his home and his precious little maid. Sleep soft, my bird, within your nest, Our hearts and our hopes with the ship at rest. Be gay, my baby, brave and gay ! Your father's ship sails away to-day, And he must not see a saddened face, For that's to a sailor's wife disgrace. The sea he loves, and the ship so triui, But, oh, my baby, we'll pray for him, That lie may come back to us some day, And so we will both be brave and gay. By-low, my bal)y ! Hush, my cliild ! Why start with terror, sudden, wikl ? Hear'st thou the wind's loud, angry roar ? The breakers thundering on the shore ? 0, wifely heart, oppi-essed with care. Seek refuge now in God, in prayer ! Sleep sweet, my bird, while clouds droop low, And requiem waves roll sad and slow. »'!' m 14 Songs of all Seasons.^ Awake, niy baby ! Lift thy head From off' tliy dainty, white-robed bed ! Thy father's safe, my nestling dear ! It is but joy that brings this tear ; His clasp is holding mother, child ! What care I tliough the waves roll wild ? Now slumber softly, sigh no more. Our heart's wild storm of apguish o'er. UNFINISHED. u This is a picture which we paint to-day, In memory of one now passed away — A youth of promise. See the sketch which gleams From yonder wall — unfinished as it seems, Yet like the hand that laid the pencil down. Exchanging laurel wreath for heavei ly crown. # * * A narrow strip of shining yellow sand Loses itself in greenness on the land ; But, seaward looking, shines and simmers on 'Neath wanton waves, which, toying, float upon And o'er it, and recede, and dimpling sparkle 'Neath the sun's rays, and then in denseness darkle In secret recesses of caverns deep, Where the sweet mermaiden doth lie asleep Upon her couch of pearl, fringed with seaweed, Regal in loveliness, a queen indeed. And glittering with gems and jewels, rare As the golden glittering of her long, bright hair. That, lying thus, streams o'er her pearly pillow In waves more shining than the sunlit billow. Unfinished. 15 r How soleirn and how still this summer eve ! No sail in sight, the harbor empty and bare Save for the gulls that, screaming, wheel their flight, Now mailing far aloft in the purpling air; One diving down to where a ventrrons flsh, Leaping to catch its glittering evening meal, Finds itself caught and borne along above Its native element ! See the others wheel And still pursue their comrade, who still holds The writhing fish, and flies ; and at the last, Hard pressed and weary, drops its prey again Into the sparkling wave from whence it passed ; Then riping higher, but pursued no more, Continues his cahn flight along the shore. The sun descending slow, leaves golden lines On the still waves, which, as the last ray shines, Deepen to darker tints, and seem to hold The lake in trance, and like a sheet unrolled Of rare mosaic set with precious gems — Rich as are Oriental diadems, In opal and in amethystine gleams. To the east the mild, entrancing moon there beams, Emerging from its mysterious bank of cloud. That looms about it like a purple shroud. It throws upon the waves beneath its feet A slowly silvering path, and seems to greet With gentle, loving smile, the retreating rays Of the fond sun, on which it loves to gaze. I This seems the tale the artist's pencil told. So far the sketch is perfect — but behold, Upon the beach drawn up, the fisher's pride, With spars and ropes half outlined. On its side ¥' 'it 16 Songs of all Sea&cma, Lies the good boat, imfinishea ! Storm or shine Car never matter to this craft of thine, My boy, whose life was done ere manhood's day ' Ihe stalwart youth just arming for life's fray ' yV hose hopes, whose fears, whose aspirations broke Away from e^rth as life to love awoke ! What higher knowledge what divinest love Ihe life cut short on eauh will find above ! Seeing and knowing only can we tell The life we thought unfinished, ended well ! i STANDING BY THE SHORE. I STAND on the shore of an inland sea; The airs of Autumn about me play ; The waves roll dark and heavily, And the sun through clouds sheds a sickly ray. Sadly I gaze on the frowning waves, Dark as the hue of my hopes they roll ; O, that they floated above my grave And shut out the day from my weary soul ! One lone ship sails steadily on, Till below the verge she sinks from sight; And her course she keeps till her port is'won. And the day finds rest in the arms of night. But I ? God ! What rest for me ? As I watch the ship in her onward track, I remember that under the waves of this sea Lies one whom I love,— and who comes not back ' ' t " The Lass that Love/f a Sailor." 17 He sailed away in the early light Of a smiling morn in the month of June ; And the sun made the face of the waters bright As they washed the beach with a low luve'^tune ! He comes not back ! and 1 is vacant chair Still stands in its old accustomed j)lace ; The books that he loved are laid with care, And there from the wall gleams his pictured fare. Well ! Life is never (juite what it seems ; Not I alone have this lessoii learned ; And I rouse myself from my sad day-dreams, With a sigh for " the ship that never returned." " THE LASS THAT LOVF.S A SAILOR." A LONG, level coast and a steel-blue sea, And with white sails spread, a ship rides free ; A purplish mass overshadows the sky. As the vessel gaily dashes by; Gail}^ she rides o'er the swelling tide^, And glad sings the sailor as gently she glides ; Sing cheerily, sailor ! Down by the sea One whom thou lovest is watching for thee ! Folding her shawl to shield her slight form, Praying that He send no wind, nor' storm; •Crouching behind the sheltering rocks. While the soughing surf her agony mocks. Beating the shore like a living thing, While far out the white gull dips its wing In the crest of the wave, nor heeded not That beneath him, where sunlight reacheth not, « 18 Songs of all Smsons. Lie the mouldering bones of nntbrtnnatc ones. 10 avert sucli fate the maiden moans, While the sailor sings aloft in the shrouds Caring neither for storm nor (hirkening clouds bmg clieerily, sailor ! A woman for thee Watcheth and prayeth unceasingly ! Prayers from a pure heart will shield thee from harm ^o thought of dangei' e'er need thee alarm. Snig cheerdy, sailor ! Down by the sea Heaven send thee safe to lier who waiteth for thee' 1 1' A DUEAM-SHIP. Sailing p. way, Sailing away, Over an ocean of sparkling spi-ay ; White sails gleam, ^ And pennants stream. From the spars of the ship that 1 see in my dream. Sailing away, Day after day ; Over the deep glides the sliip so gay. The sun shines bright On its sails so white. And the moon in its turn lights it up by nio-ht. Cloudless blue skies Above it rise, And the sapphire sea beneath it lies ; While my good ship glides. Both wind and tides Seem made for its weal and naught besides. ^ Cazenovla Lake. CAZENOVIA LAKK. Dilckmukr in 18G(j. 19 List to the low moaninnr lake close by, hyin^r beneath the sombre sky ; Moaning and groaning and tossing in pain — For the Ice- King is coming to regally reign. Over the bosom once sparkling and bright He spreadeth a strongly-made mantle of white ; He holdeth it firm in a warm clasp of love, But he shutteth it out from the arched sky above ; So, repining, it moaneth in sorrow and pain, Till the spring-time shall give it its freedom again. The winter wind whistles my wide window by ; Gray clouds are now draping the once shining sky ; And little I heed how the dreary days go, Or the dead earth now lying deep under the snow. We'll heap the bright fire still higher and higher, And let the wild winds sweep along in their ire ! With the warmth that's within by the red fire's glow, We heed not the dead earth lying under the snow. We'll let the sky frown on the Ice- King's cold pomp, While we sit by the light of our own cheerful lamp. The flowers sweetly sleep in a drear, darksome grave, And the hoarse winds above them now mutter and rave; All the last summer's color, its warmth and its glow, Are sleeping beneath the pure, beautiful snow. Yet float down, O snow, from the pure realms of love To the dead earth beneath from the dim sky above. With all thy cold blustering, dearly thou art Enshrined with the image of cheer in each heart ; ^ 20 Songs of all Seasons. Witli the merry slei^^h-ride, with the skaters' loud song, As on stecl-hounden feet they <;lido ;^aily aloni^f. So we will ]iot repine; by sure tokens we know That the (lowers arc hut sleeping far down 'neath tho snow. The splendors of springtime are coming again, And the violet and crocus shall risc^ from tlie plain; And the strong fetters foi'ged by tlic dread Ice-Ki!ig*s hand, Jn his rough, rocky forts in the chilly north-land, Will be (juickly dissolved by the spring's genial breath, And the grim, discrowned King slet^p the still sleep of death. i STANDING ON THE BEACH. I STAND alone on the beach to-night. And list to the breakers' roar; And watch the tall and stately shi])s, As they glide away from shore. And thus I think as I stand alone And watch tlie ships receding — " This, — this is a type of all my hopes And my desolate heart now bleeding ! " Thus we sail alonof on life's fair sea, All outwardly calm and smiling ; Yet God alone knows the inner wreck Of the hopes that were so beguiling. So God alone knows how in this sea, Danger and death are lurking ; Or how soon this gallant craft may bo A thing for the wrecker's working. 11 J In My Garden, Thr hopes I clierishcd, — one by one In silence I saw them leave me, There is nothing', or no one undei the sun, With power henceforth to grieve mo. My heai-t and hopes alike are crushed, But 'tis only an inward hleodin^r ; And all outside is fair and hriirht As ' watch the ships i-ecedini^. Now, Father above! Thou God of love ! Do Thou my vow record ! No idol's worship henceforth is mine, [ bow to the living Lord 1 To none but God do 1 bend my knee, On my heart no liame is feeding ; It flickered and died, my hopes beside, As I watched the ships recedinf^. 21 (! IN MY GARDEN. A hum of murmurous insects fdls the soft, sweet summer air; A breath of Heaven floats among the trees. That, burdened with bright blossoms, bend above with blessings rare, And flutter forth their fragrance to the breeze. The soft, green sward below is decked with dandelions And clover blooms are starting here and there : For the summer queen is wooing them their beauties to display, And deepen the ambrosia in the air. w mmmmm 22 Songs of all Seasons. m: H tt All nd?tnre gives her tribute — the swallows skimming fleet, The robin chirps upon the blossomed bough ; The humming-bird darts quickly from sweet to fresher sweet ; Deep in the flowers' heart the bees buzz now. Ah, who can picture all earth's brightening joys, or dear delight ? Each hour brings fresh enjoyment to the eyes ; Each day the earth is gladdened ''with new music, and each night Is filled with moonlight smile and dreamy sighs — Sighs for the morning, when the new world once again Dawns, deepening all the glorious day before ; And thoughts and feelings holy are filling heart and brain. And heaping up life's pleasures more and more. Tne lake lies in the distance, a light haze o'er it spread ; Dimly, as through a veil can we descry Tho ships that float upon it, their white wings wide bespread. To woo the wanton breeze that wanders nigh. So still, so sweet, so soothing, yet so full of life and love, This May-day near June's borders seems to be. That I could lie and listen, and deem myself above In that wondrous land from care and sorrow free. Alas, the moments fly ! youth and spring are flitting by, And birds, and bee, and flower will soon be gone ; Then let us enjoy our May, and be happy light and gay, Fill each day with new delight, ere night comes on. Bid Yesterday. c< 2^ The present is our own, the past forever flown • Ihe tuture with its burden none may know • ' Let us enjoy our May, life cannot all be iray; Let us pluck the sweets and flowers that aloncr our path- way grow. ^ BUT YESTERDAY. 'TwAS long ago! No, no 1 Love, 'twas but yesterday! And yet, so far away it seems, So dimly comes to me in dreams, ihat ages might have come and gone Since last you left me here, alone ! You loved me, then ! _ ^ Ah, when ? Love, 'twas but yesterday ! Loved ? now you love no more ! Hark! hear the lake's loud roar! Tis the surf, madly beating The rocks and then retreating. Do the rocks yield ? Ah, nev'er ! Rocks are but rocks, forever ! Dost seek to wounrl ? No sound ! Love, 'twas but yesterday I But love has wings and flies. And the heart wounded dies; And though I beat, and beat against the rocks ^Y heart alone can feel the cruel shocks i iO 24 Songs of all Seasons. The dream was sweet, Though fleet. Love, 'twas but yesterday You held me in strong*, loving arms, And, smiling, kissed away alarms, And soothed my fears, and dried my tears ; Oh, the joy of the long vanished years ! Can I forget ? Not yet 1 Love, 'twas but yesterday. So sweet the dreams yet hold, More precious than fine gold. You wooed me and you won me ! vain regret- Had you not won me, you had wooed me yet ! i . IN THE BLOSSOMED CHESTNUT. In the blossomed chestnut where the bees sing. Humming birds flutter, and every happy thing Dances in the sunshine sifted through the leaves, Looking down with laughing eyes where a fairy weaves Dainty threads of gossamer over all the grass. Just to catch the dew-drops as night shadows pass — Robin redbreast, golden oriole, darting with quick wing. In the blossomed chestnut where the bees sins: 1 Lilies bursting into bloom just across the way ; Mountain ash and maple pennons wide display ; Flowers scattered everywhere, filling all the air With a fresher fragrance, and a beauty rare ; Longing. 25 Nature's robe of emerald, worn with queenly crrace Jor the sunny smiling June that beautifies h^e?fece- ivery wanton wind that blows deeper raptures brW To the bonny chestnuts where the bees sincr ! ^ Who^L'^it ^ ''^^''^ f ^^''' ^"^^^« «^^^«^«s flee away • \Vho could mope and mutter 'gainst fate on sucTa dav letkLss "^'^ ~ingle, and lake and doud- When entrancing strains of music and contentment fill AnTwi^ liff '^^^^ ^r'"''r^' ''^"^ ^^^^ '^^^^ everywhere- things!"' '" '""'^ ^" '^^"^^^'^ fo/simple ^ "' "" bint"^!^'' '^^ ^^''^'^" '^^^^ '^' bonny chestnut LONGING. Where the summer sun is glowincr And the gentle breeze is blowin^r "" And the tall trees shadows throwing On the grassy lei., Here I sit and ponder, While I long to wander By the silver sea. Here the dusky pine uplifteth Boughs through which the sunlight sifteth • And the wmd its dead leaves drffteth ' O'er the lonely land : There the palm tree's top is waving, And the silver sea is laving All the golden sand. m 26 Songs of all Seasons. Oh, I hear its voice of gladness, Drowning every note of sadness, And all melancholy madness, In its lowly hum ; Saying when the waves are rushing Fierce, or with calm music gushing, " Worn and wearied, come ! " JUST AT THE END OF THE ROAD. Just at the end of the road the lake lies silent and dim. Behind a mysterious misty veil that shrouds the distant rim Where sky and water meet, and far beyond our ken, Seem to mingle in peace, never to part again. Just at the end of the road passes a slow-moving train. No sound of the wheel on the rail. I bend and hearken in vain. No whistle for " down brakes " now, no hiss of escaping steam Is heard. From where my vision strikes, no tire-eyed engines gleam. Just at the end of the road— and green fields lie between — Telegraph poles show sharp defined against a dull, dead sky. All beyond is misty and dull as in d. dream. As if behind that wall of white a far-oflf fate may lie ! Just at the end of the road ! Ah me, a funeral passed to-day — Solemn, slow-moving and silent, the cortege wended its way. A Summer Memory. 27 Eighty-eight years had the old man carried his weary load, Laying his burden down gladly, just at the end of the road ! Just at the end of the road ! O, what lies there for me ? Travail and toil and trouble along the way I see ; But the sting of scorn, the stint of fame, anxious Ambition's goad. Gone will be and forgotten, just at the end of the road. Birds sing, buds bloom, the apple boughs fling fragrant petals far, And beauty bends benignly from bright moon and flash- ing star ; But I, alone and lonely, long for that blest abode In the land beyond the misty veil, just at the end of the road ! jad A SUMMER MEMORY. How beautiful it was, that calm night in July, When the moon, round and white, was sailing high Upon a heaven as pure as God's own face ; Of cloud or trouble there was not a trace. There was no eye to mark, no ear to hear The love you looked, the words you whispered, dear; All earth was ours, ours was the heaven, too, In which the moon hung, bright and fair to view. The tall, old trees that lined the village street, Made fitful shades round our soft-falling feet ; The whispering leaves for once forgot their tale. And left no murmurs on the evening gale. if I ( 28 Songs of alt Seasons. The people were in bed ; good sooth to say, Hud they been up, it had not been tha^ way ; People were made to talk, and birds to fly, And love for moonlight walks in warm July ! And so the romance faded ! yet the bliss Lies in our hearts from that long, loving kiss ! AH else forgotten— world and stars and moon, Save the thought-torturing— we part so soon ! 'Tis winter now, again the moon sails high. Yet coldly shines, as dead love's distant eye. We're parted ! Hard for hearts with love once smitten, ^ But the bard sings : " Love's vows in snow are written ! " V, A JUNE MOKNING. The dews that gem the eyes of morn Lie lovingly upon the rose ; A scent of summer, rich and warm. Through all the air divinely blows. The locust, lifting creamy blooms. The snowdrops, rearing round white heads, Give forth their glorious perfumes To rouse the dreamers from their beds. The morning air is sweet with sound, With song of bird and hum of bee ; With rush of swallow soaring high, Then wheeling low upon the lea. ! " Ilodie Mihi. The rosy clouds of morn Jie curled — Like childhood's sunny locks thoy lie Over the brow of the blind half-world Waiting the promise from on high. ' Slowly the Monarch comes in sirdit • The birds burst forth in freshc^r sono- Carolling loudly to the light Which lark and robin waited lono-. The rose shakes off her tear-gemmo,l vrii • J^i^Q bee takes wandering wing afar • ' Ihe violet blue and daisy palo Open their petals to the air. Each bird and beo, each bud and flower A . .?! ^" sweetest song, to raise At this pure, winsome, wilderino- hour A pean to their Maker's praise 29 HODIE MIHI. I SAID, <; To-day is mine I" I will enjoy Ihe loving mgering moments ere they leave • rt rX^^'i ^'r^^^P^ that will not decei ;e Though o her lights may lure, and loves decoy, My soul stands sure on this her steadfast rock ^ately withstanding storms and tempests' shock • Though clouds may darken, or suns burning shine To-day is mine ! ' I 30 So'iu/fi of all Seasons. ii And so, I steered my ship o'er smilinpr seas, And love lay cradled in the langhin*:^ l)reezo That rocked the restless bosom of the deep ; And all the mermaidens that lie asleep Upon their coral couches all the day, Roused their restless charms to wile away The love I deemed my own in storm or shine,- That love of mine ! 1 1 'II i I s Ah, who can claim an hour as their own ? A moment's merry play of careless laughter, And tears and travail follow fast thereafter ; And joy is l)roken by a grievous groan ; And love, at sight of tears or sound of sighing, Uses the wings were given him for flying, Waiting for :airer skies and suns to shine, This day of mine ! Let no man plume himself upon the past, Or count caresses which to-morrow brings ; The bird which on the wood-top trills and sings Flies from the northern tempest far and fast, And seeks a sunnier, smiling, southern clime. And sweetly sings, forgetful of the time When love and youth and blissful " Auld langsyne." Were thine and mine ! Beloved, in the days when life was young We counted not the cost of anything ; Our fancies mounted hio-h as lark on winof, And, like the lark, our blithe glad voices rung ; And, with youth's confidence in coming pleasure, We sang unstinted, joyous beyond measure ; Care could not cloud us, nor grief make us pine. That day of mine ! Do you Remember 2 J| Ah, well ! 'Tis only that we feel too keen The loss of friendship that we never owned ; The calumny and censure now condoned ; Have been allowed to "peep behind the scene," And see how friendship's tlinisy robe was made, And the deceitful hearts ^f those who played,— To see thy pleasures pall and love decline, O, day of mine ! Why must we sigh and sob o'er dead love's bier ? Leaves fall, and trees stand shrunken, brown and bare • l5ut there is promise in the frosty air ' That sap shall stir, and leaf and bud appear And clothe the naked limbs with life once more : But love, once dead, no power can restore ; 'Tis only memory gives us gall for wine.— 1 Dead love of mine ! DO YOU REMEMBER ? Clouds are the etchings of God's hand Upon the sky's bright scroll ; No human hand can draw those lines, And such bright forms unroll. Clouds, like banners half unrolled, Tipped with crimson, purple, gold, Flung athwart a cool gray sky, Meet the poet's raptured eye. 32 Songs of all Seasons. Fades the sunset, fades the glow ! Clouds of sori'ow, clouds of woe, Dun and dim, foreboding strife. Flung athwart the poet's life ! Friend of mine ! in after days When clouds like these meet thy gaze, Memory shall gleam and shine With a radiance half divine. Gleams of glory ! Puffs of air ! Glow and fade, no longer there. Only memory can trace When last year's joys had place ! IN MEMORIAM. Col. a. T. H. Williams, M.P., Died at Batoche, Lurked July 2l8t, 1885, at Port Hope, on the day his troops were welcomed home publicly. Low lies the h(iro, and tears fall like rain. Never he'll come to his loved ones again. Stricken in battle ? Nay, harder the blow ! After the victory thus he's laid low. Loyal hearts, one and all, look we to you, Give him a welcome, " Tender and True I " Streamlets that murmur and sing in your glee, On your glad way to the broad-bosomed sea, Carry with you on your devious way The wail from the hearts of the people to-day. Nothing can equal the grief now his due ; Weep for him, mourn for him, " Tender and True." WlUlams. Beautiful song birds, sinrr 'round liis grave, uently, ye branches, over him wave ; Bees in the clover that cover the sod' Droning sweet music, " Gone to his (iod " All things beneath the skies bright and blue Oive him a welcome, " Tender and True." ' Sing him sweet lullabies in his low bed Evening dews, down-dropping, cover his head • ±»low, softest breezes, summers sweet breath ^ever lay man so lamented in death » Noble life found him, life is passed throuHi Angels now welcome him, " Tender and True ' " 83 WILLIAMS. Written for the unveiling of his monument at Port Hone on September 4th, 1889. ' Thou hast thy glories, gory-headed war ! Ihe charging squadrons, and the scream and hiss Ut many hurtling shot, but only Peace Can bring a day like this. A nioving mass of men and women throncred lo hear the words which consecrate for aye A martyr's monument in our memories, ' On this memorial day : A proud meme-to, which the faithful love And admiration which his country o-ives To all her honoured dead. Long as'^this stands, Williams, thy memory lives ! ^'1 /■ 84 Songs of all Seasovft. Where Canada's defenderH, wini^^ed with scars, Soar throuirli tlie a/ure fields of endless stars, 'V]\y soul still lives, and, hendinj^ down to earth, Marks all oin* solemn mirth. Death he sought often on the battle-field, When British valor made the dark foe yield, But not in battle did his mighty soul Go down to deatli — ah, lieavy dole ! Yet none the less a hero brave he stands, This statue, reared by loving comrades' hands. Tells that he met death bravely when it came, With his great heart aflame ! Face to face, fighting as for country's need, So shall our children as its lines they read, Learn how the hero-martyr met his fate — Williams, thy meed of praise is great ! THE RIVER OF LIFE. A WIDE, dark stream, whose swollen flood Draws downward to a precipice ; And ships, with sails and streamers set, Rush headlong towards the dread abyss. On either side the river, rise Tall mountains, towering to the skies. The storm-rocked stream roars rough and rude, And throws up seething, hissing spray ; But on its breast ride vessels good, The River of Life. Holdino- the tlioii,s set rwSn:fi£"rs°"Ji!Uyet A I M^er ^v may sheep and shepherd share, ^ L' aftLTtoil 'and trUle, joy and pun „ We r.ach the " Church tnu.nphant ^ over there, Pastor and people may umte again : Mil! .1" 1 ill I ii LEAVE ME NOT YET. i. ^4- ' TViP honi's o-o bv in sadness, ^XnSrttrati. Jo'ugu'comes ^i^h the J- •> WUh thee will flee all love and hope and gladness, Cving me wretched, lonely and forlorn ! Leave me not yet ! I waste my heart in sighing, Clinffing unto thy lips m perfect bhss How can I let thee go ? Stay yet a minute To whisper words we never can forget Each moment hath an age of rapture in it,- ^ I cannot let thee go ! Leave me not yet ! In a Lily's Cup. IN A LILY'S CUP. A LONG, green stem creeps out from the brown earth AtkI broad leaves, coarsely veined, come with its birth Lut at its topmost end, a sheath of white Unfolding, shows a bud of beauty brio-ht. Fair, pure, and stainless, fed by warmth and o-low VVitliin, though all without is draped in snow A hot-house Hower, preserved from storm or cold It Jives, grows, blossoms, and then waxes old Its ]ife IS brief, but beautiful. Look deep Within its calyx as it lies asleep, I'll read you there in rhyme, this dreary dav But whether " song or sermon " you shall sav. Hear how the mad, weird March winds rave and roar feee the surf, beating on the rock-crowned shore • \ ou cannot feel the cruel, biting blast, It shakes your windows, as it hurries past; But you are housed and fed, and safe within A lily's cup, stainless and free from sin. w^7.^'^.! ""'^^^^ ""^ P"^^ influence close you round : Within its sheltered heart you love have found • And " passion's host, that never brooked control " JNe er storms the citadel of saintly soul. You have felt pain, and who that lives has not ? buch pain as nature renders common lot • But sorrow for lost hope, lost love, or sin' Has ne'er your lily's portals entered in ; Sorrow for others, for a world sin-cursed. Such of all sorrow seems to you the worst. ' H III 'Hi w 44 Songs of all Seasons. ';i:li m Look from your window, where the lilies bloom, And fragrance of sweet flowers scents the room, — And rags and wretchedness may smite the eye That liL!hts alone for beauty, you may sigh, — For purest pity pearls the lily's heart, And prompts the tears that from its eyelids start. But ne'er those eyes can weep such tears as ilow From those who know the di!pths of want and woe, A lid ne'er the heart can comprehend the sin, 'I' hat to tho lily never entered in. The world is sinful, you may say, and yet O'er lar off heathen you may sigh and fret, But do not know, or do not understand There are worse than heathen in the land. " Unto the pure all things ai"e pure," and so The lily's cup is pure as unsunned snow. Its heart's sweet innocence, its home of love, Its likeness here below to Heaven above. Safe from rude winds, its sweetness folded up, Best of all dwellings is a lily's cup ! THE SHOWER. Majestic masses, clouds of dun, columned and still, they stood, Then rolled along the hoi'izon and rested o'er the wood ; And from their dark capacious depths came forth a heavy shower, Deluging every bud and branch and every leaf and flower. The robin sheltered in her nest but little recked the storm ; Her little broodlings 'neath her breast were cuddled safe and warm ; At Horeh's Rock 45 Her mate upon a tall pine tree sat 'iieath a branch low hung, And from his perch called cheerfully to mother and her young. A little time, and then afar p7-anced all the steeds of air • The mighty monarch of the day shone peacefully and' fair Upon a scene but lately strewn with wrecks cf bi-anch and flower, Which the bold storm-king dashed aside, the playthincrs of an houj'. * ° A little time again, and then the flowers raised their heads. And rested gracefully reclined upon their mossy beds ; The robin made the wild woods ring with soul-entrane- inff sono- AT And all the stagnant streams of life rolled peacefully along. "^ .1 I if AT HOREB'S ROCK. Sek the thirsty souls draw nigh ! Hark the deep despairing cry : " Give us water, Moses, water ! Give us water or we die ! " Ah, the sight was desolate. For the famished people wait, For the rain that never cometh. For the stream that never runneth. For some little trickling rill, At the foot of some great hill. Where their fever-palsied lips Once more at the fountain sip. 46 1' i iJ ! i^iiii' Songs of all Seasons. Strong men groaned in anguish wild, Mothers held a feeble chdd, Whose v)arched lips and glassy eye Spoke the fell Destroyer nigh. " Coura<^e 1" Moses said, " we soon Shall have water, and ere noon Reach we Horel/s rock and see Water gushing full and tree I Priests and Elders, follow me ^^^ Thus the Lord commandeth tliee : Read we the old story still, How that Moses smote the rocR, How it yielded to the shock. Cleft its side, and gushing free, Water spouted ! Water 1 See, See the thirsty myriads drink See them throng about the nil Trickling down upon the sward-- Women panted, " Praise the Lord ! See the Saviour on the tree ! See Him writhe in agony ! See His pierced hands and side ! Christ, the Rock, is crucihed : See the blood and water tiow Down on sinners bending low, That a weary world, sin-curst May o'ercome their maddening thirst, May here drink and ever be Free from sin and misery. Come and drink ye wavering ones j Come, ye whom the Saviour owns ! Come', ye weary, sin-oppi^st ^ Let your burdened souls find re^t : Invocation. See the stream that issues free, Drink and no more thirsty be ! Hearts harder far than Horeb's rock, Rent asunder by the shock, By the lightning of Thy Word, — Save them, draw them, Christ our Lord. 47 INVOCATIOr^, Sleep softly, sunbeams, on his grave Unde^ the })rairie grass ; Tall, flaunting iiowers over him wave. And droop as the hours pass. Lie warm and bright on his narrow bed. Weave him an amber shroud ; All gorgeous colors over him shed From the prairie sunset's cloud. Sing lowly, zephyrs, your anthems grand, Like the sonc^ at eveninsf sun^jr By his cradle, rocked by a mother's hand, When life for him was young. Moonbeams, your softest lustre shed, Your silver shimmering fling Over my darling's low, lone bed. Like the plumes from an angel's wing. All things beautiful, bright and good^ Compass him all around ; While I weep in my woeful widowhood. With my pale face pressed to the ground. I ' u '1 i il-!ir f 11 ^1 .: 48 Songs of all Seasons. > v'!l I LAY ME DOWN TO SLEEP. I LAY me down to sleep ! With airs from Eden-land My burning brow is fanned ; And summer silence deep, Waveth o'er all its wand. I lay me down to sleep 1 And yet it is not night, For all around is bright ; But o'er my eyes doth creep That which denies them sight. I lay me down to sleep ! Pray God I wake again Where I shall feel no pain ; And death's cool slumber deep Fall soft as summer rain. if ! l,i ,ii. i MY OLD HOME. I LONG for a look a^ ear old home. Which the sprir .^e has scented so sweet ; I long for a view ot Ontario's blue That stretches away at its feet. Its hillsides all covered with clover, Where the honey-bees live in a dream ; Its valleys that lie to the blue sunny sky, While wild-flowers line the banks of the stream. My Southland. 49 The oak and the maple stand proudly, And j^uai'd its <^'reen meadows and slopes ; The heech and the poplar <,dve shelter To the robin who trills out his hopes. The ivy and bittersweet cling to the boughs Of the bass woods that grow by the brook ; The touch-me-nots cluster in silver and green, In the depths where the sun dares not look. How oft have I sat in my own little nook, Where the soft green sward gave back no sound. And bathed my tired soul in the freshness of eaith, While the fragrance of flowers floated round. No one spot to me can e'er so dear be As that nook in the bosom of the hills. Shut out from man's ken and the sun's glaring eye, By humility — safe from all ills. 1 MY SOUTHLAND. My soul is away in the Southland to-dey ! There, lying 'mid heavenly calm, I am watching the white-clouds that overhead stray. And breathing the zephyrs of balm ; And while my eyes scan the wild landscape witliout, There nought of discomfort I find, Though the storm-demon rides with a laugh and a shout, Borne about in the arras of the wind. The snow piled on high, the dull leaden sky. No chill to my soul-dream can give ; While the fire glows bright on my heart and my hearth, 'Tis joy but to love and to live. T 50 Songs of all Seasons. And I heed not the storm or the chill winter blast, For the future this promise bestows ; My Southland will come when the winter is past, And the summer will bring back the rose. Not the rose that is gone. That can never again V To the light of the summer return ; *i|i But the fire of that love that glows bright in our hearts Can nevermore cease there to burn : For love is eternal ! So linger we here In the northland of ice and of snow, Nor sigh for the Southland while love gives the cheer, Tiiat the heart makes its own roses blow ! WHA.T SHALL I OFFER THEE? What shall I offer thee ? Gems and gold ? Wealth in abundance, treasures untold ? Or the wealth of a love that shall never grow cold ? What shall I tell tliec ? That riches and power, And beauty have rendered thee their fairest dower ? Or that day by day I shall love thee more ? What shall I say to convince thee I love thee ? Say that thou'rt fair as the bright sky above thee Studded with stars ? Or say simply : I love thee ? 0, not by loud vows is sweet love to be won. Nor wooings .om morning to setting of sun, I say to thee, sweetest, I love thee alone 1 0, Bonny Moon 51 0, BONNY MOON! O, I WAIT and watch and listen, While the stars so brightly glisten, For a footstep that I know is coming soon ; Bend thee down in all thy glory, From thy height to list the story That hath been so often told beneath thy light, 0, bonny moon 1 4 0, my heart is wildly beating, At the rapture of the meeting. And the waves are murmuring a softened croon ; i\o^ they beat the beach in gladness, Now retreating moan in sadness, So ebbs and flows my heart's red tide to-night, 0, bonny moon ! Each sweet bird hath sought its nest. All the world is hushed to rest. Save whip-poor-will that singeth his sad tune ; Lone he sings and lone 1 wait. For I fear me he is late, And I want thy rays to light him to my arms, O, bonny moon ! So I sang one summer even, Till the moon rode high in Heaven, And my heart drank in the loveliness of moonlight, youth and June ; But the beautiful June morrow Brought me much of woe and sorrow, Sorrow for my love that met me 'neath thy light, O, bonny moon 1 I.; 52 Songs of all Seasons. Was it but a premonition, Or some angel intuition, That taught me to be sad yet glad in singing my love tune ? He who sat with me that even, The next morninof was in heaven, And no sadder heart than mine now beats beneath The bonny moon ! So I linger, old and weary. And the time drags slow and dreary, But there will come a time, my love, — And Heaven sond it soon ! When beside thee I shall slumber. And with thee be of the number Who deliorht in blessinof loving hearts who meet Beneath the moon ! DEATH. "Oat of the shadows of sadness." Ah, could we but be certain. That when we lift the curtain About us, and fall asleep. We should go from sorrow and tears. To a land full of hope, free from fears ; Nevermore to awake and weep. Would our ship always calmly sail. Untouched by tempestuous gale. Over silent and sapphire seas ? Would the spices of summer e'er breathe Around us, above us, beneath; Unchilled by the cold winter breeze ? Death. 53 Do the flowers wear bright faces alway ? Is it always and ever glad day ? Does there never come night nor rain ? Do the leaves never fall from the trees ? Does there never on anyone seize Sadness nor sickness nor pain ? Does never descend the snow ? Do never the cold winds blow ? Is it always warm and light ? Take me there, then, 0, Death ! Pityingly pluck away breath, Take me where there is no night ! I am so weary of life, Weary of sorrow and strife, Glad when the day is done; The day of this world gone by, The record written on high, And I so much nearer the throne ! Nearer the pitying Friend, Who some day will graciously end This medley of all things sad ; This picture that pleaseth awhile, This scene of a tear and a smile. This song that is good and bad. And I, so sorrowful, say : I am sick of the world's sad day, I am sick of the weary night ; I am tired of sorrow and pain, I am weary of sunshine and rain, I am weary of darkness and light ! :' J i . T 54 Songs of all Seasons. JESSIE. Angf:ls in heaven, sound your harps of gold ! Wave your briglit wings, and fan the perfumed air To sweeter fragrance ! Here our world is cold — The flowers are gone, and trees are getting bare ! Ye choir of cherubims ! your sweetest songs Sing loud, in honor of an angel's birth ! Down here, where all things right are seeming wrongs, We call it death, with moan in place of mirth ! But there, up there, where heart speaks out to heart, And all is warmth and light and love and praise ; Where no wrong comes, no sickness, no more pain, Nor heartache, sorrow, night — but all bright days. Why should we mourn when angel bands rejoice To welcome home another angel-child ? Why grieve to know another angel voice Has joined the cherub choir all undefiled ? How hath He honored them, to whom was given The care of a bright jewel for His crown ! How hath He trusted, when, though ripe for heaven, He left them golden sheaves so long unbound ? The "Happy Land," to her once far away, To which she called to all her friends to "come," She sings with sweeter voice in heaven to-day Than she could do in this her earthly homo ! For Kitty. The little pain-tossed casket is at rest, That held the sweet spirit for such weary days ; The little hands are folded on her breast, The beauteous cui-ls still cluster round her face. Angels, with welcome meet her at the gates ! Seraphs, your sweetest airs about her play ! For many years she has been fit for heaven. But darling Jessie's just gone home to-day ! 55 FOR KITTY. 0, BLUE eyes closed for evermore ! 0, folded hands, that lie so still. Like chiselled marble, on the breast That feels nor joy nor ill. 0, hair of gold, that kissed a brow Fairer than aught can be of earth ; So fair, we know that angels sealed Thee for their own at birth ! 0, lips that nevermore may speak The loving words we long to hear, Or ringing lauij^hter, that proclaimed Our merry Kitty near ! O, little feet, tliat ever ran To meet us at the open door ; The joyous shout, the clinging hand, Will greet us nevermore ! 56 Songs of all Seasons. 0, never more shall we behold The form we thought so full of grace, Or see the light we loved so well Upon that sweet young face ! To us 'tis always young ! The years That roll may earthly features change ; But she will ever be ;is now — Her steps no further range ! MEMENTO MORI. Heavily fell the snow Over the dead earth below, Drifted and piled in heaps of purest white ; The wild wind shrieked and wailed, And a cheek with death was paled. For a life was ebbing fast away that night. Heavily fell the snow, Piling in heaps below, Over the ruined gables brown and bare ; Quietly ebbed the breath Of the form stricken in death. Whose breath was cold as coldest winter air. Quietly fell the morn. Calmly slept the storm, And the God of day smiled sweetly on the scene ; Sweetly as if no woe Had fallen with the snow Upon the house where sickness long had been. ■ . "^^^^ Hidden Grave. Gently her form was laid n ij "^^ ^^^ snowy bed, fenow cold in snow, Lowered below Never to rise till the glorious new birth. Mother, we miss thee I Yearn to caress thee ' Sweet be thy sleep in the cold', snowy grave ; There will we leave thee 1171 -1 ™^ ^°^^ receive thee, While round thy pillow the winter winds rave. 57 THE HIDDEN GRAVE There's a grave, lone and dark, dug deep out of si^ht ^ here no grass ever grows ° ' W here no blossom e'er blows • . ., ^,^^^^^ ^^® i^oon's ghos°tly licrht She visits that grave, and, alone, lifts Yhe lid And looks on the lost one her own hands We hid. A tall, manly form in that coffin is laid • A broad brow, deathly fair ' And the sarong, shape., haX^nlLt:^^;^:! 58 Songs of all Seasons. No eye, save the All-Seeing >ne, looks upon This lone grave that is kept By a woman's hand, wept By a woman's tears only, and they fall unseen ; While a laugh or a jest till the spaces between. You wonder, perhaps, where this lone grave is made ; Who cotHned the dead There so peacefully laid ; — Many bright eyes may seem in gay scenes to take part, Many gay smiles may cover a grave in the heart. WAITING. The cold winds of winter are wailing Above Minnesota's broad plain, And the snow-white earth, like a maiden, Is w^aiting her lover again. Like a maiden who waits for her lover. She waits the embrace of the spring ; All hushed, though wild winds sweep above her, She waits for the coming of spring. Thev sigh soft as the season advances. And brings on the balmy -breathed hours ; And the grass buds, like emerald lances, Pierce her bosom ; then follow the flowers. The soft summer hours bring her gladness. For the rose-encrowned earth reigns a queen, And the birds and the wild bees pronounce her The loveliest that ever was seen. M Maysie. She revels in fulness of pleasure, ^o doubt in her bosom remairis : Lut alas for the maiden ! her treasure bleeps beneath Minnesota's broad plains The breezes of winter or summer ^ Unheeded sigh over his head : Alike are the storm and the sunshine feo quietly resteth the dead f m MAYSIE. Sad we say and sigh, as the slow-movinrr fnnpr.l f • '"t X Sh ""'''■ '''-'' '°^'' -'I baits Se Is borne^the senseless clay, from which through throes The suffering saintly soul escaped all earthly ill. P; ymg the pure, sweet spiri so free from Ib''''^ "f '"' P^tyrng weary pain-racked limbs for'^ing tt' IgL. Deathjs^notsad! Rather life-life with its manifold L>fe with Us perilous pathway, its long, bleak stretches Its m^ountains of wrong, its gulfs of woe, its rocks of dire Its memories of lost Paradise, its murderer's brand of^ 60 Songs of all Seasons. Hush ! do we dream of life ? We have walked awake with woo, But the mothor-love ishuiif^ry, the mother-heart is weak ; Who can comfort the mourner, who dry the tears that flow, While we cannot hear for heart-throbs the words our friends may speak ! Peace ! Looks she not lovely ? The little lips red as life, The pure, sweet face, as slumber hath sealed the dark, brown eyes, Closed upon earthly woe, and years of ghastly pain, — Opened to see the forms of those here loved in Paradise. No, not sad, but joyful ! Upborne on glistening wing. Never to fail nor falter, never to gasp or groan ; There, 'mid the flowers of Eden, only to soar and sing, Only to lure with beckoning hand the loved ones left so lone. Steadily upward, onward ! Life is too poor and small To satisfy the souls of those whose treasures are above, Oi- still the infinite lonmng that lives in the hearts of all For the bright and beautiful Beyond, where love shall meet with love. * * But the last sad rite is over. The solemn words are said — "Ashes to ashes" (they falter). "Dust to dust'" ('tis done). And all that is left of Maysie is laid in the narrow bed. Peace ! It is well ! Pray softly for those who are left alone. Neivton Hill. 61 NEWTON HILL Tj[kuk lioth a cit}^ within my sight— A city whose towers gleam marble white, A cily whose mansions give fortli no lio-ht, Whose sti-eets are deserted and lone ; ° And the dwellers therein so quietly rest With head pillowed softly on Mother Earth's breast • And m sleep they make no moan. A quiet city is that which lies Within full sight of my aching eyes, As I watch the day fade from'^the skies, ^ While the twilight lodngly lin' ! Ah, me ! tliat days of bliss should bo so short, And nifdit of woe so lon^r ! O, that tlio flowers of love should fade and die ! O, that the weeds of hate grow rank and tall ! 0, that the lieart must feel the sting of scorn, Live and remember all ! If life could y)ass away when love shall fail ! Would death be merciful, and from us steal The last sweet breath that can but form one name, And all our woe conceal ! i Be pitiful, Dear God : Since we must live— My babe and I— and bear her Other's name- Give us stronir ]iearts to hold ourselves above The cruel, blasting shame ! Unloved ? uncared for ? Surely not, when He Who hears the ravens when they cry for food, Will care for us, His children, in our woe. Afflicting for our good ! Out of the slag the silver, glittering, shines ; Midnight is mother of the brightest stars'; And life, which holds us with a tightening clasp Of double prison bars, . w '< i\ 64 Songs of all Seasons. Will one day loose us to all fond delighfc, To loves and memories enduring, strong ; And death ope heaven's gates and give to us One grand triumphal song ! •i \ A DIRGE. Bury thy dead, faint heai-t ! Why clingest thou still to this unlovely clay ? The glory of thy love hath passed away, Why not cover it deep, Lying so calmly asleep ? Canst thou not yet with it part ? Once it was sweet, sweet heart ! Now it is cold to thee and chill, Brought it aught to thee but ill ? Think not of days now gone, Long hast been left alone. Will not its memory yet depart ? Dead love to thee, proud heart ! Warm with life now to some fair, fresher face ! Once thine was full of loveliness and grace, But hearts can change, and so Dead love must be buried low. Burv thy bosom's ache and smart ! No hope for thee, poor heart I Love, once dead, is dead for evermore, Its life no momentary madness can restore. The form we thought so full of grace, The beauty of the perfect face, The glimmering glory that tipped the dart 1 ( A Wedding Gift, 05 love, now lost, sad heart ! O hopes, now vanished, joys now passed and gone ! wretched waif, now doubly 'reft and lone ! Survivest thou strangely still Tl.rough crushing grief and ill, When youth, and love, and hope depart ? A WEDDING GIFT. Of old, there lay one at the Temple door Called Beautiful, and as the prophet passed He begged an alms— for he was lame and pooi', And tears fell fast. But Peter, fixing on him his bright eye, Said : " Treasures of this lower earth, Silver and gold and jewels, I have none But what I have of worth I freely give. Arise, and in His name, Go forth and sing His praise ! " So, trusting in his word, he that was lame Went happy all his days. But thou, my little friend, when friends were few, Who standest on the threshold of thy joy, And seest the long way opening up for thee,' Of bliss without alloy, What can I give to thee which thou hast not ? ^ The kind regard of friends, when friends abound ; The love, adoring, fond, of one true heart, With joys encompassed round. I I 66 Songs of all Seasons. And yet, clear girl, I dare present to thee A gift of song, a prophecy of peace That as thy wedded years grow ripe with age, And married joys increase ; Thou wilt arise, and in thy richest gifts Of womanhood, its purity and power, Make of thy home a haven of true rest, Wherein no storm can lower. A WEDDING BENEDICTION What gift or guerdon sweet, What treasure, or what sum of earthly bliss Could equal, dear, the warm and clinging kiss That crowns this hour so fleet ? So, if I offer naught But words like these, though poor and weak they tall, Know that in giving them, I give to thee Gifts greater far than all ! Treasures of gold and gems Are bought and sold, as neither rich nor rare ; Are meaningless as spoken sympathy, Though light as air. But heart's blood, coined Into a blessing, brought and offered low, In memory of the days of bliss which brought But nights of woe — Un Fait Accompli— A Wedding Wish. 67 Such gifts I bring thee ! Then, When others crowd around with merry words, And thy fond heart, fill'd with o'erflowing bliss, Is light as singing birds — Think what may blessing cost ; And that, with laughing lip and lightsome tread You reach one, stepping o'er the sheeted dead, In love's ffrave lost ! II UN FAIT ACCOMPLI. So, 'Tis un fait accompli, and the ring Is placed upon another hand than mine ; Thou'rt wedded, and life has no more to bring To me, save memories of lost love's shrine. The sweetest sleep that charms me from my pain. Will bring me dreams of our commingled lot ; The wildest woe that I can ever feel Will be to wake and find myself forgot. A WEDDING WISH. 0, BLESSED morn in early blooming May, That dawnest, blushing through thy cloudy veil, Like tD the bride, whose happy marriage day Thou usherest in with soft and balmy gale. Dost thou rejoice, thou blithely twittering bird, And amorous woo to thee thy feathered mate ? This day a maiden speaks the solemn word That leaves her father's house half desolate. mmm 68 Songs of all Seasons. See ! There they come— a lordly, lovely train Of gentlemen and ladies blooming fair. They leave the ancestral home, the church they gain, And there before the altar kneel in prayer. Aye, kneel and pray, thou loving, lovely one ! Much need hast thou of prayer and humble heart. A woman's lot is on thee, and begun This day the duty thou canst never shun While time rolls on, until Death hurls his dart. And while the solemn priest prays in set words. Send thy prayers heavenward, like beauteous birds ; That never mayest thou miss the loving tone, The kindly smile, the dark eye beaming now, That won from thee, what is no more thine own, Nor can be while the blood keeps onward flow. Ah, lady, thou art young and pure and fair. And youth and love make all things bright and sweet ; Mingle a wish in thy most fervent prayer That Sorrow's form and thine may never meet ! O, blushing morn, that bloomest in bridal white, Give to her eyes their most bewitching light ; Crimson her cheek and lip with tenderest flush, That soon must kindle with a wifely blush ; Be happy, dearest, happy as the dead 1 They stray, mid heaven's blest elysian bowers— So, like them, may thy footsteps ever tread Upon a pathway strewn with sweetest flowers. Be happy ! May thy pure life ever be As free from tempests, and as heavenly calm As the still lake that lies, a tranced mystery, While o'er it blow spring airs of balm ! Alone. 69 May all thy ships full-freighted to thee come, Laden with love and joy and hope for thee ; May all good angels guard thy giilhood's home, And love make bright the one that waiteth thee ! ALONE. She sits alone in the fireside glow, While the dancing shadows come and go ; And the flickering firelight's fitful oleam Seems like the ghost of a vanished dream. What a dream was that, her pure, sweet soul Saw in the light of the glowing coal Once, so long ago, of a perfect life And a happiness rare, to be his wife ! She had bowed her head with a maiden shame. As she thought how sweet to be called by his name ; To be sheltered for aye in his heart's strong love. Was a joy only second to heaven above. What a picture of bliss her fancy made. While the gleaming firelight dancing, played O'er her broad, high brow, and plain brown hair, As she wondered how he had found her fair. Not beautiful sho, nor wise, nor good. With a dash of temper, a fitful mood, (Born of her dreamy poet's heart) — No matter, he loved her, — they could not part. I'' « I ' m 70 Songs of all Seasons. They would meet life's shadows, side by side; And the ir .n was fair that made her his bride ; But the clouds came fast, and the old wives said 'Twould be better for her if she had not wed. That was almost two years ago ; And to-night she sits in the gleam and glow Of her hearth alone, and sighs with regret For the sound of a footstep that comes not yet. Her husband is absent night after night ; She has failed to make his hearthstone bright. Is marriage a failure ? she feels, alas ! Only a loss of love could bring it to pass. ill GREETING TO CLEVELAND. A NEW State in the Union ! Let me see ! An annexation, that means anarchy, For when a man is married, he's in doubt Whether he's master in the house or out ; And when a woman weds she's just as sure That she must hold the reins firm and secure. You'll find more trouble, Cleveland, and dismay, Than if you had annexed fair Canada, With the Dominion Government thrown in, And C. P. R., with loads of debt and sin ; With Costigan and Blake full of Home Rule, O'Donohue, of whom they made a tool To get the Catholic vote ; and heaps of people With pride (not power), like a church steeple. But annexation and home rule to the fore, With Goldwin Smith, and — Respectfully, Maude Moore. I! 'I He Comes not Yet — Rosemary. 71 HE COMES NOT YET. Is that his step upon the gravel walk ? Is it his shadow which the bright moon throws Across the dew-bright grass ? Is it his breath That greets me, or the perfume of the rose ? Alas ! he comes not yet ! Did he not call me ? surely his soft voice Sounded with love's own accent in my ear, As oft before it came upon my heart, Soothing alarm, and banishing vain fear ; Ah ! no, he comes not yet. My heart will hear him ere my sluggish sense Can sift the meaning of its quickened beat. My heart will bud and blossom as the rose, Though every fibre falter 'neath his feet. But oh ! he comes not yet ! ROSEMARY. " There's roseiiiary. That's for remembiajice.' I GIVE thee a leaf 'Tis a simple thing, But it may, perchance, to your memory bring A thought of the happy days gone by, When care had not clouded your sunny eye. Keep it ! When friends prove false and cold, When life is withered and time grown old, Still may this leaf be unto thee A type of unfading constancy. ji^^ 72 Songs of all Seasons. Green and fresh may it ever remain, The same as now newly washed by rain ; So may tlie memory of seem Like the lingering light of a witching dream. 'Twas a wild, sweet dream that once swayed onr hearts, The remembrance of which not soon departs ; But we severed each tie and the dream is gone, Though the lio:ht it once shed still shineth on. liir MY BOY FROM THE BANKS OF ANNAN. Of all the lads in east or west. For blessin' or for bannin', I dearly lo'e my Jam the best, — My boy from the banks of Annan. Sae sloe- black is his wavy hair, Sae saft his e'en o' gray, Sae douce and bonnie a' his air, He's stown my heart away. Yet oh, he is an unco' chiel, For spite of all my airt. There's aye anither has the fiel', Anither lass his heart. Yet oft he swore he dearly lo'ed Nane but his bonnie Bess, Sae, though some say he's fause to me, I'll lo'e him nane the less. %M ^_ Album Verses. Sae, Jeanie, cease your flirting ways ; I'll gie ye inuckle tlianks, Gin ye will cease his flame to raise, My boy from Annan's banks. Ye may ha'e all the bonnie e'en That flash frae honour's ranks, Clin ye gif o'er my humble clerk, ' My boy from Annan's banks. 73 ALBUM VERSES. TO ALICE. Sweet Alice, in life's dewy morn, When hearts are young, and love is warm, Poets may sing in melting lays Of youth, and love, and joyous days. There^s naught so fair as young love's dream, There s naught so swift as life's gay stream, 1 here s naught so sweet as wedded bliss There's naught so pure as love's first kiss. And yet, dear girl, in after years. When sadly fall slow-dropping tears, We mourn the youth now fled and gone And fear old age that's creeping on. Our hearts are warm, though blood is slow Eyes briaht, though cheeks have lost their dow And hearts are young though locks are irrav ' And lite is sweet, though past its May. ' It WW 74 Songs of all Seasons. We've learned the lesson tau^^ht by years, That skies, thoui^^li hriglit, may yet shed tears, Thouf(h truth, and love, and hoi)e be given, There's nothinj\\ mountains, white With everlastin'4 snow and ,L;'litterin<^ ice, h]inl»](ini of ])ure and spotless fame, I saw The llamu-emhhizonod scroll ; and writ thereon, Among the pioud and lofty names of those Who have made briu^ht and better all the earth, In that they livx'd theiein, and toiled, and sung ; And, pictured there, in proud ])re-eminence, My name among the foremost ones of earth, My form among the noblest of earth's sons. My longing eyes looked vainly on tlie crowd Of upturned faces, my companions there, Something about the picture Vjroke the charm ; 1 turned away from the bright scene, and sighed. "Wilt thou have Fame ?" the Ang(d gently asked. And slowly, tearfully, I answered, " No ! " And then there broke on my enraptured sight A picture sweet, of such supj-eme delight I A quiet lane bordered with gnarled old trees, Which led up to a quaint old garden, where. Sitting so carelessly content, upon The threshhold of an ivy-hung old house, Two figures, side by side, the picture showed — Two rosy children sported at their feet ; The peaceful cows grazed in the field near by, The sheep with snowy fieece lay on the slope ; The hum of murmurous insects filled the air, And bright-hued birds flitted among the trees, Filling with sweetest eong the sunnner sky. From the barnyard crowed chanticleer in joy The mother-hen marshalled her fluffy chicks Before her, with sedate and stately step. A Winter Niyld. Hooked upon tlie fij;u,o.s ii, tin, porch Une was my own, and, toucliod will, suddoti thoii.d.t n ''. "o'-^ P'aycd i, show mo but the fjifo Compan.on to n,y own ! " " Do«t tl,o„ no kX ' " I looke,l, I cried : " I will take only love ' " ' J lie face wa.s tl,me I I woke ! the dream was o'er. So though the New Year hold for me nor wealth Nor fame, the Lrilliant n.eteor of a dav I know that thou wilt love me, aye foi kye And with that knowledge, I defy all else ' 89 A WINTER NIGHT. Over all the winter, starlight icily is fallimr ■ wErfi 'n '"T' ^ ^'''"^ T'"'^ '^'""'^ "'softly lying . arrcallln.'^ ""'''"'"' "'""'' "^« ''"'^« and^flo'we?s' "^"""Sin'" '""^ ^'"'''^ P'""^ ''''' ^'^'^ '^'"^'^^ ^-d arc The ;ea^-s' boughs of forest trees sway tossing in its ^''' "Taiiff ""' °" window-ledge in huge, mis-shapen And Ms Jh'e glittering starlight over all the solemn F 3 1' i t! IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 I.I 1.25 ■" IIIIIM IIIIM IS IM i^ I" 1^ MO nil 2.0 .8 1.4 IIIIII.6 V] <^ /a 'W.. -i'j 1 '/ ^^q .V J ^%'<^^ #^. W^\ ^1? ;\ L^< i^- I iP^ I 90 Songs of all Seasons. Midwinter nights in moonless skies and northern scenes are cheerless, ^ , . , -i a- Though beauty bend from every flashing star its radi- ance briiicht ; . -, , . i The moon must walk in inRJesty and might, the queen, the peerless, . , , Else give me the glowing fire in place of northern night. The glowing fire, the sparkling fire, flying up the flue broad-throated, , i p • ^ While my trusty dog lies at my feet, my trusted friend sits near ; ^ ^,, ^ , , And I envy not the sleigh-rider, fur-muftied a.id great- Thou'^gh winter be the carnival of all the glorious year. Home joys are sweetest. 0, ye maids and bachelorsj^ow Homelias,* home loves are dearer than all other joys Let the stars shine down on happy hearts, and on the pure snow glisten, While I sit beside my happy hearth, no want nor woe betide 1 A VALENTINE. I WALKF.D along the street one day. Not many weeks ago, And met a glance from two blue eyes That set my cheeks aglow. And since that time, by day or night, My heart was robbed of rest, Nor lay secure as heretofore Within its peaceful nest. A Valentine,. Those eyes have haunted all my dreams- in dreams that mou.stached lip Is pressed a^rainst my own, as bees r rom flowers honey sip ; In dreams those arms have clasped me close iiiat voice has whispered "Mine !" ' oo that I cannot rest until I pray St. Valentine. " ^; Soot^ and kindly saint, to whom All woful maidens pray Unbend the heart of this proud man • Lrive him no rest by day No sleep by night, no loving arms, JNo loving heart's repose, 111! ne shall see that with but me Must all his wooings close ! My all liis wandering thoughts depart, Ail dreams of others flee, So that his blue eyes see but one And may that one be m.e ! Do this, good saint, and evermore Upon thy votive shrine, 1 11 lay the tribute of my verse 0, good St. Valentine ! And, if he read this simple rhyme As he so surely may, He'll know at once who wrote it And come to me and say : ' This is the day made sacred To love and all its charms And so I come to you, my dear, lo quiet your alarms. 91 ■'"Tt 5g3n23jg^gHgjjjgM^^ 92 Songs of all Seasons. You'll know by this, my first love-kiss, There is no surer sign, That for all time I pledge myself Your faithful Valentine ! ' " STANDING IN THE SNOW. Tarry awhile, my lady, 'Tis a cold, cold winter's night. Look abroad on the starry sky. And the dead earth robed in white. Go back to the fire, my lady ! Shutters and curtains close. Sit 'neath the glare of your brilliant light, Fresh as the heart of a rose. Think of the poor, my lady, The beggars that pass your gate. See where they stand with outstretched hand- Stand at your door and wait. Though you may care, my lady, I hope you may never know How the cold chills to the heart of those Who stand with their feet in the snow. Humanity poor, my lady ! Made in the image of God, Whether they sleep in downy beds, Or on the snow-covered sod. Promise. Do not forget, my lady, Kiches may take to them wings ! But a free lieart and a generous hand Much joy to tlie giver brings. Sit by the fire, my lady, And bask in its ruddy glow ! But do not forget tlie many tliac wait And, shu^ering, stand in the snow ! 93 PROMISE. SWKEP softly, Spring! On balmy wing, with gentle streamlets murmuring ; With dreamful eyes I watch the skies, And breathe the airs of Paradise. The light winds sigh. And through the sky llie light, white clouds skim softly bv ; I watch them sail Borne by the gale, i^ai', far away, till sight they fail. From upland, lea, And maple tree. The gleam of green comes glowingly, And through the wood Blossom and bud Start forth afresh from wintry shroud. »■; mm \i ' 94 Songs of all Seasons. ! soft spring air, A message bear To lier, tlie fairest of the fair ; In love-tones low, Then whisper how On Hope's fair tree the blossomed bough Hangs low ; and soon, 'Neath reddening noon, And coming summer's softened croon, With fruitage rife Will glow with life, And crown thee, darling, happy wife ! O 1 joy to be, That comes to thee So dreamfully and tenderly ! Break into bowers Of bridal flowers, And bring the best of happy hours ! DETHRONED. O ! GRIM ice-king, dethroned at last ! Too long thou reigned'st o'er the earth, With rudest storm and chilliest blast, Destroying all our joy and mirth. Thou stand's t at bay, an uncrowned king,- Thy throne an ice-berg toppling down, Thy sceptre but a worthless thing, And on thy head a melting crown. r Dethroned, • Thou seest thine earthly glories fade, As many a king before has done, — With flashing eye and icy beard. Thou seest thy race is almost run. Dost see thy rival ? fair and young, With gentle eye and modest mien; Trailing her virgin robes along. She Cometh, clad in ffleamino- careen. Looks she a formidable foe ? Thou laugh 'st in scorn, though lying low. One single blast of thy rude breath Would crush her neath a whirl of snow. But thou, oh King, hast yet to learn That not in strength lieth greatest guile, That many a brow, though thunder-clothed. May brighten 'neath a woman's smile. m hat many an arm though hard and stron«y, • And heart, though stoutest in the land, "^^ Groweth pliant as a leathern thong Beneath a woman's wielding hand. It is no shame to thee to know Thy throne usurped by such a one, Though on her royal head she wears A rosy, not an icy crown. Yield up thy frost-gemmed sceptre, king ! Put off thy robe of ermine white ! Our Queen a flower- wreathed wand doth bring, Her face is fairer to our sitrht. 06 Sovgs of all Seasovs. Lie low, expire without a groan, Tears come amiss in time of mirth ; Queen Spring, a maiden fair and young, Reigneth triumphant o'er tlie eartli. AN P]ASTER OFFERING. An Eustor offering ? Nay, friend of mine, What gift can liouor Him who gav^e me thee, For whom all else of earth I would resign ? Thus, having gold, who would wish dross to see ? But 'tis thy dear request ; and as thy will In all things worketh to the mastery, Even to commanding all my heart and brain, And, as it now is, evermore must be. * * 'Twas night in old Judea, long ago. And darkness, deep and heavy, hovered o'er The earth, bowed down by weight of infamy, And at Christ's crucifixion stricken Pore With heavy presages, thick hung the air, Stiired sluggishly as by a mourner's sigh ; But soon a balmy southern breeze upsprang And freed from cloud and gloom the briijfht'nino' skv, As dawned the new-born day with ecstacy Of babbling stream fresh loosed from wintry thrall. And late-dropped devv- on leaf and blade of grass, And early waking bird with timid call. And then uprose the royal king of day, An Easter Offering. 97 And, from bis thion^d sphere, cast golden ravs In myriad eyes reflected brilliantly, Ghnting the i^arments sad of Mary 'Mao-dalon Hastmcr with heavy heart once more tcyo-aze ' On the dead features of the Kin^r of men! Ah, what sad thc^ night ! good night 1 the stars in heaven are shining, Tue wind sighs fitfully about the eaves ; The summer roses on the wall once climbing, jDrop to the earth their sere and dying leaves. We meet in joy, though all around are saying That summer's glory crowns rich autumn's head ; The flowers she planted with such care and tended, Are changed to fruit and woven with leaflets red. Her toil is o'er ! another cl? ms her treasure, Enjoys, and leaves the dregs to be sipped up By winter's withered lip, and woful pleasure. Drank from the old man's care-embittered cup. Even so with life ; in morning hours we labor For that which we cannot enjoy or keep, Laying up wealth which afterwards may vex us, But will not satisfy our longings deep. But there are riches which the heart may gather, Which comfort us in age as well as youth ; Treasures and toils that will reward us ever — 'Tis the pursuit of temperance and truth. The incense of good deeds '. 'twill rise to heaven When prayers and tears are counted no avail When God's Archangel listens to the pleading Of widowed wife or mournful orphan's wail. g> TJte Red Ribbon Tie. The weak to strengthen, to uphold the erring, To guide the soul aright in virtue's way, To cast away the bu)'ning cup of pleasure, And loose the inebriate from rum's dark sv;ay. To uphold our principles and Order over ! Be not ashamed of our God-given work, Join hand in hand, and heart from heart ne'er sever, These are our duties, and we never shirk. We've called you here, my friends, to give us courage, To help us in the task we've undertaken, To show you that our influence still is striving, Our faith in temperance principles unshaken. God bless you all ! we ask jom kindest wishes, To help I in the path of truth and right ; We thank you for the kind attention shown us, And bid yon each and all a kind good nicrht! Ill THE RED RIBBON Tlbl. ' The First " Ribbon" movement in Mi chigan was a Red Ribb on. You may sing of the witchery that lies In the roguish gleam of a pair of bright eyes: Of the beauty that blooms on the maiden's cheek, Of the loving thoughts that no tongue may speak; But none of these can e'er compare, Though boasting beauty rich and rare, With the deep and lasting charms that lie In the magical link of the Red Ribbon Tie. ¥ \''\ 112 Songs of all Seasons. A mother may sigh o'er a wayward son, Whose feet so swiftly to ruin run, As he sips of the cursed cup that's tilled With a drop of " damnation doubly distilled." Till the head grows mad and the brain is dazed. And the eyes once bright are dull and glazed, — No charm can arrest his downward career, Till a Red Ribbon Tie in his coat doth appear. A wife may wail o'er a husband lost, Of a hearth left lone, of a love oft crossed ; A sweetheart may plead, with a pretty pout, That a lover on sprees too oft goes out ; A lather may scold, a brother may talk Of that son and brother's unsteady walk ; There's not half the persuasion that can lie In the magical charm of the Red Ribbon Tie ! 0, emblem blest, unpretending plain ! When a man his manhood would regain, When he talks up the walk of life anew, With a happy resolve his best to do ; With the help of God and his brother man, He may rise to the level of virtue again. If he only place in his buttonhole there A Red Ribbon Tie, so fresh and fair ! Success to the badge ! Success to the band ! Keep firm of heart, stand hand in hand ! Some day you'll triumph o'er ruin and rum ! Some day, indeed, shall the good time come. When your flag shall float over valley and hill. Over licensed hotel and illicit still. And the monster drink shall bow his head Through fear and shame of the Ribbon Red I Misconception. 113 MISCONCEPTION. Is time unkind, And memory but a jewel-liiltcd sword That plucks my heart out with a tender word ? And thoughts of yesterday, a time of tears And hopes long vanished with the vanished years, I he years now old and gray ? And fancies, loves, and memories to-day Troop in like ghosts, and stare from vacant eves And laugh with fieshless lips, in mocking guise Of those I loved and lost, and seek to bind Iheir lives though lost to me ? Unkind, unkind ! If you could come. And holding both my hands in both your own Look in my eyes and say : " Time has not flown ' lis only we who have grown old and changed • Our hearts which have become cold and estranged • Time still is young and gay ; "^ ' lis but imagination makes you say : We once did lov/, we once were dearest friends lis but the glamour, youth and memory lends ' lo distant by-gone days, when fancy twined Wreaths of forget-me-nots. Time still is kind !" Perhaps 'tis true ! In those old days, when love was new and sweet And every night but crowned the day complete •' And skies were sunnier, and flowers more fair ' Because my eyes but saw your image there ; ' And faith was firm and strono- • 114 Songs of all Seasons. A. And neither night nor day was e'er too long ; For hope and happiness made all so bright That meniorv of each was dear deliixht ; Then you swore love to me, but now you rue ! Time still is kind — You only are untrue ! ii .•Si I TEMPERANCE TOPICS. Written in ISVO. Mania a potu. There was a youth, a bright-ey».d glorious boy, A favourite in the village where he dwelt, A high-souled, genial, frank, engaging lad, Whom everybody loved. The young obeyed, The elders petted and caressed, and gave A glass of wine or sherr}^ for he loved Dearly the juice of the warm-glowing grape. He grew to man's estate, and ever made A leader in the circle where he moved. He took himself a wife, the brightest there ; But she, who often proffered wine, with smiles, Soon learned to dread the goblet as her death. Her noble husband often drained the bowl, Yea, filled and drained again, and oft again ! Till sense and reason fled, and he lay stretched, A loathsome object at her dainty feet. Yet this was but a vice occasional. " A glass of wine hurts no man," he would say ; " A social glass or two with merry friends, Makes time pass pleasantly ; " and so again, The next feast found him ready as before. Tem2)erance Topics. Pass twenty years and see him once ar^ain Ue lies upon a wretched bed of pain, "^ ' Goblins and ghou.s, and serpents haunt his rest And everytliing a maddened brain can see Is gloating over him with hellish glee. Hear his mad voice and learn a lesson then— Where he is, all may be, who slum not that Which makes a brute of proud Immanity. " They have chained me here to my bed ! They have circled my bursti ig head With an iron band so strong ! They have pinioned my hand?, my feet, And my heart has ceased to beat, I have lain here so lone " They think that I am dead. They think that from me are fled Reason, and sense, and life ; They've bereft me of all I prize,— The light of my children's eyes,' The sunny face of my wife. " The sunny face, did I say ? I saw the smile fade each day. The shadow deepen and darken. Could I once more hear her voice That so oft made my heart rejoice, For my life I would hear and hearken. " They tell me I did not know, That I caused her tears to flow, With my speech and ways insane ; But I knew ere it came to this, ' ' I had robbed her life of bliss, I had made it a barren bane. 115 n^'^ 11(5 Songs of all Seasons. " 'Twas the poisonous fire that flowt^d Through my veins, till my heart's blood glowed In my puffed and swollen cheek ; 'Twas damnation doubly distilled, That my pulses and being filled, Till my tongue refused to speak ! " It should have been dumb with sighs, For it dimmed Mary's beautiful eyes, And drove the smiles from her mouth ; I saw her grow old with pain, But the poison that filled my bram Was a mighty and terrible drouth, " That dried up the springs of my love, That drove me from things above To grovelling in the mire ; That threw o'er my spirit a spell. That gave me such visions of hell, And devils dancing in fire. " Just this moment I saw one stand, Clutching a knife in one hand, The other outstretched to me ; In vain do I writhe and cry ; What fires flash from his eye,— There ! see him turn and flee ! «' I am not mad, but sick With the sulphurous smoke, so thick That it fills up the air of the room. open some window or door ! See the serpents that crawl o'er the floor ! See the flashes that light up the gloom ! i 1 4 n. Is; i • r Temperance Topics, 117 " Will not someone give me a knife ? I must even defend my life, — Nay, indeed, I am not mad ! Who piays with such solemn grace ? Ah, that is my mother's face, So holy, so sweet, so sad ! " 0, mother, go back to your grave ! But why did not the rich mon crave For brandy, or even beer ? 'Twould be easier sent to hell Than water, — and tastes as well, Nay, better than it does here ! " Give me a drop to drink ! — I will not take it, I think, You have poison f)ut in the cup ! Maddening fire without, within ! Ah, what horrid howling and din Those fiends are keeping up ! " He ceased, and suddenly an ashen hue Crept over his worn cheek ; the light grew dim, Flickered, and flared, and altogether died From his once glorious eyes. He lies with those Whose lamps have been in utter darkness quenched. 0, men of mighty minds, arise ! stand forth ! Stretch out strong hands, and drive this cruel curse, And all the want and misery it entails, Oflffrom the face of God's most glorious land !