^^, e>. * rS' IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-S) ^/. i? s-^r^ :/. 1.0 I.I IM IIIII25 132 2.2 1^ *4£ IIIIIIO 1.8 1.25 1.4 1.6 — ^ 6" — ► # w //,. ^; r!> '/ c?- /l Hiotographic Sciences Corporation s « 4^ V ^> :\ ,v \ ^\^ F. ^ o"^ T;t,^ signifie "A SUIVRE", le symbols V signifie "FIN". Les cartes, planches, tableaux, etc., peuvent dtre film6s A des taux de reduction diffirents. Lorsque le document est trop grand pour dtre reproduit en un seul clich6, il est film6 d partir de Tangle supArieur gauche, de gauche d droits, et de haut en bas, en prenant le nombre d'images nicessaire. Les diagrammes suivants illustrent la mithode. 1 2 3 1 2 3 4 5 6 POEMS BY DAVID FLEMMING LITTLE. 1 ' \ HALIFAX : NOVA SCOTIA PRINTING COMPANY. 1881. Lp"PSfvr5-i'75/^ [OULD but one life be nobler made liy aught done here, 'twere well repaid; For — grand the truth— "Of noble lives Something immortal still survives." Londonderrti, N. S., ISSl. CONTENTS. PAOK The Wanherer: Thoughts of Home 7 At Monterey 9' At Yosemite 1*1 In Los Angeles 1(> Stanzah on Onn-FELLowsHip Itf- Recollections of a Visit to Sonoma 29 Miscellaneous : To Miss B 3» To Aliss , a close student 39 Jules Tavernicr ; or, Tlie Painter 40 The Solace of Philanthropy to the Oveibunlened 41 Farewell to San Diego 42" To Miss L K 4'S C. L. Carr 44 Lines to Sister on hearing of her Death 4& My Mother 47 Thoughts of my Home in Acadia 47 To a Child at IMay 40 " On the lonely shore " 4l> Sonnet to Aliss M W 50 To a young lady friend 51 To Miss K G 5^ Burnson's Belief 5*^ The Emigrants 55 The Parting of Lovers 58 To Miss 5{> A Trouble of Lung Trouble (JO Tlie Man the more meanly degraded ot the two 61 Paying the Penalty 01 661 r)8 VI. CONTEXTS. Stanzas written on the Pacific Nova Scotia ^'^ ^^.j The Canaclian's rrouj Uo,;^ .' «4 ^^"'•« ' m Home an.I Hope ... 07 Tlmnksto Longfeiw'".' 08 Wisg J. Q To M188 T . L 69 •I0M18SK T 70 Advice about Marryine 71 I^artof an E„igtle. 70 Ti'eYear ; - J| A wish to be in Ymna.".'.' 74 KOUKDS ,X THE LaHHER oP LiPe'! ' ^0 The Kecoid... ol™«''*f''="««ei''amisaifl,,i„-„, 79 Ifature the True Teacher. 81 i>oHight.... ^ c.": . , oo Abuse of anything counted g;;,t:sii. 84 oSrT. ^^'-^''-« Higher • ''" 85 ^>n Looking to God . 8« A Prayer and Afterthoughts.' §7 PIECES IT" "'' ^"" --tting go.d.:: «« «od and my Destiny Stanzas to the once ^etrotll^d ^f'thew"; ^^ To AIiss L H- "ter j^^ Thoughts on my Life 95 A Farewell <^ Thoughts when Death se^ni^dv^iy near ••• ^^ The iMght against Death ^ '"" 99 io my sisters Laura and Kate ^^0 100 The Wanderer; OR, ^tanza0 SErittcn in California- 1876. THOUGHTS OF HOME. H£ sha^des of eve are deepeniog round mj bower. And falling night brings thoughts that make me yearn For the dear sounds of home ! This is the hour When strangers' hall is joyless : heart doth turn To heart of its own band. Who now would learn. Even from a lover's accents, sweet and low, Thoughts not of days gone by 1 If now. I bum, Tis with the love of home ; and well I know. Where'er my foot may stray, that flame will brightly glow. i THE WANDERER. How well do I remtimber every spot The hours of youth have made so deeply dear t ! I would count it now a happy lot To look upon those scenes, that rise so clear To memory's eager eye ; scenes once too drear, I thought, to feast the young, aspiring mind : But what have I found since 1 what find I here>- 'Mid friends and nature grand, will memory bind Like those bright, youthful days, left then unmoumed behind 1 How oft have I reclined beneath the trees, Beside that gently murmuring river's brisk I How often have I sat to catch the breeze Of eye upon the bank ! and I would link Thought into thought, and linger still to think : The circling sky became a narrow dome, Too small to muse within ; for I did drink Of nature's spirit cup — but now I roam ; And no thought seems so sweet, no place is like my home. At MONTEHEt 9 IL AT MONTEREY/ September wind is bi'eaking o'er the hills, And scattering clouds are flying from the sea ; The sound of waters wild my bosom thrills ; And from the deep there comes a voice, to me More genial than the noise of revelry, That now arises from the crowded hall ^ And the fair moon and starry brilliancy, Thin veiled, or glowing bright, impress the call To be with nature forth upon the ocean^s wall. I gallop seaward. Spirit of the night, With thee I love to wander ; and the sweep Of darkening clouds athwart the streaming light Of heaven, the swaying trees, the bounding leap Of the proud horse against the gale, these keep * Between the Pacific Ocean and Monterey Bay, at the head of which is Monterey, the old capital of California, there is a ridge of pine-oovered hills about two miles wide. To have a gallop over these hills in something of a gale and to come suddenly within sight of the ocean, is a treat to a lorer of the grand in nature never to he forjfotten. ]() TIIK WANDi:iiKIi. In influence with thee, while my heart is mute. As carried onward — Lo ! the mighty deep ! Waves roll and dash, the wild jets heavenward shoot — O, who could tell the glory, who the power compute ? Thoughts of majestic grandeur fill the mind — The lightning flash, the thunder rolling dread ; The mountain forest heaving in the wind — The conquering host, with proud triumphal tread, The charger's champ, the thousand baimers spread, The martial music, and the welcome home — The hush of death, the deep dirge for the dead ! — He, who has chanced 'mid grandest scenes to roam, May know the gazfr's thought beside such ocean's foam. The mighty tide, which rolls the thundering bore Of Cobequid — pride of that slope so fair From sheltering mountain southward to the shore — liooked me in youthful days ; and through the wear Of manhood's stronger years, still everywhere I stray, my thoughts seem like the waves to be, As I had drunk the waters' spirit there, Like him who sung the ocean's majesty, The bard of nature's realm, or earth, or heaven, or sea. AT MONTEREY, It ►ower compute ? Hifl song I echo now to voiceless thrills, As traveller on every ocean's brink ; In storm or calm, its finished fitness fills "With wonder at the nand whose power could link Such thoughts in words as hushed the world to think ! Even thy return to gaze upon the deep, Who from the wreck-strewn shore wor<^ wont to shrink, When they have learned the lay, aun^ to the sweep Of his majestic soul o'er seas in xdi)t^ or 8*<>e[>. Tl.u Lliild of nature loves the lofty str lin Of praises, chanted to her flashings bright On mountain peak, or stayless march on main ; Her beauties traceable by day's calm light, Or grandeurs known but in the *■ glorious night ;' And now, a wanderer on mount and shore. My heart doth draw from nature chief delight, And I rejoice with bards sublime the more, That I have learned to muse, to know, and to adore. O ! give me still the shore, the mount, the wood ; Still keep me from the cities' work of men ; For who, that oft on summit rock has stood, After a night o'er works o' mortals' pen Or after crowded life has turned agiU!\ Hi 19 THE WANDERER, To stand by ocean, has not felt the spell Of something mightier than what charmed him, when He gave his heart to science, art, or shell 1 Who turns from scenes like this, but with a forced farewell ? III. AT YOSEMITE.* Turn, turn away, mine eye ; I cannot think ; Thought is all stunned at that grand, awful sight \ To stand upon the rapid river's brink Gives me a feeling of intense delight ; To see the maddened ocean in its might, Huge billow rolled 'gainst mightier boundary, * '* Either the domes or the waterfalU of the Yosemite, or any tingle one of them even, would be luflBcient in any European country to attract travellers from far and wide in all direotions. Certainly, taking the whole region of the Yosemito together, with its fire great falls, the lowest 400 feet and the highest 2,600, it must be allowed that, in this particular kind of scenery, it is without a rival in the world." — J. D. Whitmit, iitaU Otologitt of California. The highest unhroken fall, the upper part of the Yosemite, i^ 1,500 feet. AT YO SEMITE. IS A ToMmito, i^ iDspires me with a reverence as rite ; But I am more than silent here with thee, Thou holdest the l»reath of tho«ght, tbou dread Yosemite 1 Far up beside thee« thou tferaendous Fall, There is a tree, whieh twice a hundred feet Has risen from a creviced Ledge of wall : It looks no lafffi^eT there, thau from the street The plant in window high ! But who can mete Thy greatness to the soul H Here I did stand At eaJy mora, and think with words to greet Thee ; but my heart was overcome ; my hand Was not outstretched ; I stood, in speech, in thought «ifimanned. Thou river rolling itom Sierra's snows. The measure of a mountain downward leaps Thy flood to vale below I Tli« thick mists cWse Arvund tiny base, most awful fall ; whence sweeps Away the white foam of thy rage, in heaps. But far above thy clouds thou dost appear, The wonder of all continents ! He keeps No watch like this by thee, who comes not here : J^ot Eundy's mightiest waves have such aubli«nA career. V L U THE WANDERER, 0, thou magnificently mighty ! would That beaven-bom spiriti strong as thine, might break The spell in which thou boldest mine : I should Not then but feol and silent bo ; but waiker Would I tbe notes thou dost inspire, and make To thrill the heart, but which thou minglest there With awe and wonder, till they thus forsake The soul — unutterable : e'en the prayer I'd raise to other power, thou tura'st to low despair, How I have watched thee into starry night, Nor keep my vigil with less earnest eye ; Jbr now around thee, from the vale to heigbt Where thou dost take farewell of regions higb^ The mountain columns, thy companions nigh Put on a glory all unknown by day ; i And they appear the pillars of the sky f Apd thou art here among themi in thy pl(vyr Most beautiful of grandeurs 'neath yon mdlky way« And now the moon has riseik abov& the peaks ; And her fair beams seem glad to greet thy face ; The vapory cloud beneath,, ascending seeks To apreadi its- beauty neas thee^ aiad, with gnace^ AT YOSEMITE. ts I Floats on the rising wind ; now from their place A hundred outer jets to spray are blown ! glorious scenes ! He who doth joy to trace Grandeurs which art nor words can e*er make known. Let him watch here by night, devoutly and alone. It is the hour of noon on high Clouds' Rest ; And such a change of scene from yester-night ; Sierras, north, and east, and south, and west. Rise near and far to the admiring sight ! At Inspiration point, where depth and height Break on the soul at once, it bounds with praise, Then stills itself in wonder ! but the light Below this mountain edge grows dim, a haze In gorge so terrible, here brains might reel and craze. Let me draw back, and look to Lyell* — Lo ! Where nearer than the glacier, like a sea The dark pines 'neath us heave in storm, while glow The sunbeams round our watch-tower here \ Ah thee 1 love, thou lightning ! — Heavens ! that giant tree, Shivered, on fire ! and the deep thunders roll * From Cloads' Re»t the glfteier on Mooni Lyell can be seen in dear weather. 16 THE WANDERER. Along the canyons "wild \ O this to me Is life, the rapture I would not control : Now is thy day of years, thine hour of joy, my soul'! * IV. JN LOS ANQELES. 1880.t Years have departed since I wrote those lines ; But with delight I still recall the day, When down we galloped through the waving pines, And filed into the narrow, rocky way, Which great Nevada Fall greets with its spray ; A day but once lived, and a road most fit To lead from heights, where lightnings were at play Bound peak and glacier, to such vale, 'tis lit With twilight half its day — " unique, grand, awful !" writ. * Only onoe have X ha And the few sisters cheered the lot Of one by loss so sadly tried ; And children glad dispersed the gloom. That else had deepened to the tomb. Kot hers the toil in want and woe, That must go on for daily bread ; Kot hers the aching hand and head, That, half-refreshed, must rise to sew, Liist the gaunt wolf be in her fold, Or her babe stiffen with the cold. *ToCalifoi^ia. wmmm S6 STANZAS ON Not theirs to have no mother's time Deyoted to their mental life ; Not theirs to rise through want and strife, Uneducated, save in crime : A mother's work most truly great, Beared honest children for the State. i ., \ VII. Odd Fellowship, thou mighty branch Of the great parent tree of good, Of all that fruitful, fair have stood, As storms have risen to blight and blanch, Where is another growth like thine 1 Protected, pruned by hand divine ! Not that the stem which points above, Should be dishonored by my voice. Round it the millions loud rejoice, When Sabbath bells recall the love Of the All-seeing God to man, Howe'er the creeds may show his plan. But thou great branch, whose fair fruit falls All ripe and certain in this vale. Whose plenty makes the good prevail, ODD FELLOWSHIP. 27 Whose emblems beautify our halls, Of all I've seen 'ueath light and shade, My heart-felt theme hast thou been made. For Friendship, sacred and sublime. He is a son of heavenly birth. And sent to bless man's course on earth, Finds this " new ago " his gloriori , time ; * Swords into ploughshares ices he wrought,* And triumphs great, by blood unbought. And Love, the daughter of the skies, Is beautiful as morning light, While breaking on the watcher's sight, Or starry heaven to poets' eyes ; Love, holy, sweet, unselfish love, I3y thac we picture God above. And Truth, eternal as the heaven. Is destined to prevail on earth, To be the judge of word and worth, When happier days to man are given — When Friendsliip, Love and Truth combined. Have blessed the lands of all mankind. !' H RECOLLECTIONS OF A VISIT TO SONOMA. Dear Sir, — This short and poor productiwi is inscribed to yom for three reasons: You are an esteemed friend of mine, a brother -af "the Doctor," and, like mysdf, you are not blessed with a wife and children. The Dedication can do you no honor, but I hope t%e Eecollections will give yon some pleasure. Your sincere friend, DATID F. LITTLE. Stun JDiego^ Calif oruh,, I87S. so RECOLLECTIONS OF [OME darling Memory, thou trathfr.l friend, To bless my evening hour thy company lend ; My chair is set where cool airs round my feet And foliage green dispel the summer heat ; This dale will soon be hidden from the sun. Be thine the hour before th Jay is done ! Memory ! unlike delusive Hope, That still decei^'es us as we onward grope, 1 woo- thee, fo» thy strain is sweeter now Than aught besides to which mine ear can bow ; I lore thee for thy truth, and truth alone Can charm this heart which now is all its own. And of the many lays which thou canst sing — Of youthful hours and scenes of life's sweet spring. Of manhood's pleasui'es, and sere nest joys When science triumphed over all decoys. And of the friendsiiips which can only fade When life itself has passed into the " shade " — Choose once again from fair Sonoma Vale To draw the notes which can so well prevail. 0, now I catch thy music with delight I And clustering trees and vineyards rise in sight ; ? .3 I il A VISIT TO SONOMA. 31 Field after field with loaded vines appears, And garden after garden treasures rears : Behold the pleasant vale so fair extend, From shore to where the rugged hills ascend ! Now at the Doctor's door I touch the bell, And sounds within, which youthful pastimes tell. Fade into silence, and the opened door Shows me the eldest of the boys, " the four." Soon I am seated in an easy chair, And soon appear more youthful faces fair: The " Father is away, but he'll be back Within an hour now ;" and there is no lack Of questioning about my health and " trip," While kind remarks between the questions slip, Until the mother, from a neighbor's brought. Greets with her welcome kind ; then, as they ought. The children listen, while their mother's face Is guiding Goddess of the happy place. An hour is passed o'er topics interesting, This mutual friend and that remembered thing ; The town affairs, the Grove beside the bay. And prospects yet for dear old Monterey. And now the children tell me of their schools, Speak of the teachers' " ways " and grievous rules j I ; ii 32 RECOLLECTIONS OF One wishes I would teach them for awhile, Which all the rest approve wit i pleasant smile ; And when I tell them I shall teach no more, A sad-like wonder spreads their faces o'er ; But when I say, " perhaps I'll settle down And keep a book-store in Sonoma Town, With story books, pictures, and curious things," A chorus, quick and loud, and gladsome rings. For now the mother to the kitchen gone, I ween to have the supper not brought on Until the Doctor comes, the children all Increase their joyous noise through room and hall. blessed youth ! so free from care and strife : O happy spring-time of this human life ! Could I one hour enjoy thy health and glee And then have Heaven present the choice to me, To live again as I had lived before. Or with the flowerets die and be no more, Methinks I'd say, Heaven my choice is this, To give each loving friend a parting kiss, To say good-by, then turn once more my eyes Upon the distant hills and bluer skies. To look upon the woods, and fields and bay, Then in a flowery bed myself to lay, A VISIT TO SONOMA, 33 To close my eyes with flowers around me pressed, And breathe my spirit into endless rest ! Bnt wherefore muse I ? periods mark the race, Which is one journey to a destined place, And if some happier are than others given, Let me be glad and thank th« grace of heaven ; Eejoice o'er every good that greets my soul, But when an ill intrudes think of the whole. While youth was mine I revelled in its joys, Nor felt the weight of care which now annoys ; But oft o'er childish griefs I sadly dwelt, And thought all sorrows great to youth were dealt. Tis thus the boy does long for manhood's ways, And man, forgetting, turns to boyhood's days, Thinks how supremely blest his lot was then. And hates the cares which still encumber men. While could we see the scales the difference try Between the good and ill of years gone by, Perchance we'd find the balance much the same Through youth and age, obscurity and fame. But hark ! I hear the Doctor in the hall, And " papa's home," the younger voices call ; Now in he comes, the gentlemanly friend. And quick a hearty welcome doth extend ; S4 RECOLLECTIONS OF ti ■ ' Regrets the visit was not sooner made, And more the sickness causing it delayed. And now into the dining room we walk, Are seated, pause a moment in the talk. While the good Doctor turns our thoughts to heaven In thankfulness for all the blessings given. In prayer that we be guided in the right. By influence of the Holy spirit's light. — Blest is the board like this where'er it be, i Where southern clime gives rich variety. Or where the scanty north or mountain height Provides for strength, not caters for delight. — The mother makes some slight apology, As matron will however nice things be ; And thus the conversation turns on food. And I applaud, for everything is good ; But my good friends depreciate their store, The time for earlier fruits now being o'er — For peaches, berries, great variety — But grapes supply the world of fruits to me. And cheerfulness is shown in every glance. For well the dining room can mirth enhance ; The doctor tells a funny annecdote. Which sets the sounds of laughter all afloat, A VISIT TO SONOMA, 85 iven And conversation, wit, and Liber's cheer Allow no entrance to a trouble here j All, from the grandma pleasant still in age, With helping hand and few remarks but sage, To little Alice rosy, sweetly fair, All pleased and pleasing seem without a care. O earth ! if thou couldst yet such joy afford, O could I yet be seated at my board, With wife and children happy circling round, The chief of all life's good were surely found ! But in the sitting-room assembled now. Fortune does greater pleasures still allow ; " St. Nicholas — for Girls and Boys " is here, And for a while affords us lively cheer ; Its pictures, puzzles, illustrations apt, O'er which all laugh and little hands are clapped. With humorous remarks and fitting tales Bepel all cares, and mirth alone prevails. Thus time wings on across the evening hours. Till nine displays the drowsy god's calm powers ; The children therefore say their kind good nights, And alow retire. And mine are the delights Of hearing parents speak their children's praise, And tell their progress in the Book-taught ways, ! I S6 RECOLLECTIONS OF Of joining in a talk o'er days gone by, Forgetful how the hours of this one fly, Till all the evening gone and low the fire, I recollect myself and pleased retire. Now, high abovp the hills the morning sun. The pleasures of a surve)"" are begun ; Our carriage slowly wheels along a street, "Where orchard groves still groves of orchard meet j Where stately trees afford deligl'tful shade To game-laid lawn and half-hid cottage glade ; Or where the vine-clad fields for miles extend. And scattering oaks their grander beauty lend. And now alighting where a garden lies In semi-tropical profusion's dyes. We pass in wondering thought from flower to flower, Admire the walks and rest us in the bower. Thus hours are spent in driving, seeing, talk, The last not least on road or garden walk ; For converitation to the human race Can heighten joy in almost every place, Except where nature stills, as by the sea, Or scenes like those of grand Yosemite. A VISIT TO SONOMA. 37 I pass o'er three glad weeks. 'Tis now the day, When I must force m3^self " farewell " to say. The girls, excused from school, dear, bvely friends, Move me by kindness as my visit ends ; The best of dinners tliey are having made. The choicest fruits upon the board are laid ; While kind as blest the mother cheers us all. Till sounds the last good-bye within the hall I Thus from the home I part, the Doctor last, And wheeled away a parting look I cast ! Farewell, friends so kind ! my heart is weak As I look back ; and words can never speak The thoughts 1 feel ; for friendship such as yours Warm through the soul a flood of feeling pours ; And deep my spirit sighs that earth has few So kind and good, so lovable as you. Muse of the Past, good night ! — the lamp is lit !- I thank thee, and I would thy lay were writ. Thus thought I as I left my shaded seat. And toward the cottage slowly turned my feet ; And I resolved, by love of friendship moved, To tell what my Sonoma friends had proved. A VISIT TO SONOMA. But feeble now my hand and weak my mind, I do not justice to the good and kind, But only show how much my heart loves yet To dwell o'er scenes it never can forget, How memory recalls that visit sweet. And friendship bids it oft the lay repeat M MISCELLANEOUS. TO MISS 8 HE flower by inspiration of the light Becomes a beauty light is proud to see ; Then might not I be beauteous in thy sight Could I but ever get insjnring light from thee 1 1876. TO MISS A OLOSE STUDENT. Y friend, you may call me " the gay Mr. L.," Quote " a whispering tale in a fair lady's ear ;" But my mind had been clinging to study too well ; I'm no stranger to books, uor religious career. 1876. 40 MISCELLANEOUS. JULES TRAVERNIER; OR, THE PAINTER. [NTO a kingdom of his own The painter turns with a smile ; And his loyal subjects build him a throne. As rich as the fairies' isle. Their beauty is inexpressible, Those wonders around his seat ; And gold and gems are but good euough To lie about his feet ! The marshals that around him throng Are Nature's guardian host ; And they bring the beauties of every zone, The glories of every coast. And O what a picture they paint him there ! Till his heart bows down in love — In the homage of a cultured soid To nature's God above. M MISCELLANEOUS. 4i THE SOLACE OF PHILANTHROPY TO THE OVERBURDENED. ".Breakf break, break. On thy cold gray stones O se ! And I would that my tongue could utter The thoughts that arise in me." Tknntsok. « iREAK, break, break, On the rocks of life, oh heart ! I would to God I could still The murmurs that in thee start ! Thy billows, rolling sea, A heaving, heartless band. Can smooth the crags o*er which they dash, And flow on glittering, sand. But oh ! the surging of my mind Wears but its st»"ongth away ; And the same rough rocks it beats upon, But weaker thaii yesterday. Break, break, break. On the crags of life, oh heart ! 'Tis well if thy surging can only smooth The path of some sadder one's part. MISCELLANEOUS. FAREWELL TO SAN DIEQO. (LBAVIMO ON STEAMER, JUNE, 1878.) TAREWELL to San Diego friendsy To hearts ao kind and true ; While'er 1 feel the throb of life My thoughts will turn to yoU. To brothers of the mighty " links/' And of the " mystic tie," Farewell to meet in that Grand Lodge Which has been called on high. Where but the faithful are prepared^ And God himself presides ) Where goodness is the one degree^ And naught admits besides* Farewell both friends and pleasant scenes Beside the peerless bay^ In memory still I'll cling to you Though far my feet may stray. 1 MISCELLANEOUS. 4S TO MISS L- H- (IN AKSMTES.) fORGET theef Not while worth I see, Or memory claims a pleasure ; "When turned from toil to think of thee Will be my dearest leisure. Thine image in my heart enshrined, So fair, so bright, so cheering. In sweetest mood shall keep my mind, Thyself the more endearing. Foi^et thee ! Not while thought I know. Though wide our paths may .sunder, And darker waters o'er me flow Than suffering keeps me under. I'll think of thee while earth I roam, And if to me 'tis given To f^oach ere thou the Blessed Home, I'll long for thee in hearen ! Hi u 3fISGELLANE0VS, : I O. L. OARR. (in MSafORY.) ''ITH quivenng lip and tear-dimmed eye. His fate is read by many a friend ; But this wo trust i» not the end, There is a part V^'t rsnnot die. Then put the sad ; v^Hincement by ; " In nridst of life we are in death ;^ But from the flesh-destroying breath The spirit wings its flight on high. To all there comes tlie great decree, That dooms the living to the dead ; For all the shroud of ** past " is spread^ Who feel our frail huniianity : But * honored, wept, and sung * is he, The man, the patriot, the friend. Whose voice and band did erer tenci To fellow-man's felicity. The gentle hearty the cultured mind. That loved with favorite bard to dwell. That felt the sympathetic spell Of classic avkthos stiong to* bind ;, MISCELLANEOUS. 45 That with the social few refined In sacred home held converse sweet, These still with kindred ones will meet, And still eternal pleasures find. oy^Aj^ LINES TO A BI»TfiR ON HEARING OF HER DEATH. 'he tears that from an aching heart Unbidden rise and silent flow, Oh ! what are these to pay the part A brother for thy love doth owe 1 My sister ! could an angel's pen Convey the thoughts that rise in me. Thy worth and loveliness might then Be sung in fitting melody. That spirits saintly sweet as thine Are found among our sinful race, Proclaims our primal source divine. And bids u« seek that better place. 40 MISCELLANEOUS. But o'er the souls that held thee dear. How is the robe of sorrow drawn ! Forevei from this gloomy sphere, Thou art forever from us gone. Ah ! sad must be the dear home now. Thy bright and cheering smile hath fled ; Love's last wreath has adorned thy brow ; Oh ! can it be that thou art dead ? The May-groen fields, the orchard flowers, Looked they the same that mournful day. As when in cloudless, youthful hours We roamed and danced the time away \ The scenes along the river banks, The wild-flowers, birds' nests as of yore. The trees in nature's own free ranks, — They still are there, but thou no more ( Farewell ! for brighter worlds designed, Thou image fair of truth and love. Since thou art gone my troubled mind Turns longing to the home above. MISCELLANEOUS. V MY MOTHER. (on biciivimo mamt teabs after her death a lock 0? her hair in a letter fboh home.) fY Mother ! how dear to me The memory of those days long past, When I could ever turn to thee Nor know such pleasure would not last ! But I have learned in gloomy shade The dearest friend may shortest stay, The dearest hope most quickly fade : Kought blooms that blooms not to decay. THOUGHTS OF MY HOME IN ACADIA. CALIFORNIA, 1876. W home ! and have I still in that dear land A home % And is there still a chair for me. Which will be vacant till the mystic hand Of fate will lead me back 1 could they see Mine eye turned thither, sad and longingly, And read the thoughts of them I feel to-night, The stranger's thoughts of home, how quick would be The tear-drop shed, the prayer put up — the rite Of sister's love, and life " by faith and not by sight.'* 48 MISCELLANEOUS. Perhaps they're kneeling now, and turn to pray For those who bow the knee no longer there ; And when they think of one, so far away From them and all the rest held dear, the prayer Will be more deep and earnest, that the care Of heaven's kind hand may with him still abide, To lead aright, to shield from wily snaw, To be the sure, the constant, cheering guide Of him who long did join, but now is sundered wide. O blessed was that home, where sage-given light, O'er all the joys and griefs of our abode. Shone like the lamps of heaven by day and night. Diffusing peace and lessening every load : The parents walking in the " narrow road,'* And solemn in devotion, strict in rule. Still gladly cheered where youthfnl faces glowed With merry play, o'er shop or garden tool, O'er labors of the farm or task of tillage school. : f MISCELLANEOUS. 4^ TO A CHILD AT PLAY. fHY ringing notes of childish glee, ?^ That speak a mind yet free from care, Thou little knowest how sweet to mo Is every echo on the aif : Thou call'st me back to days long past, The sunny days of mirth and play. Before my sky was overcast. And smooth and flowery was my way. Qy"W!iy& ON THE LONELY SHORE. [HE sad sea seems to answer what I think ; And I half stoop to catch its kind reply ! It seems so strange that there must be a brink O'er which I cannot pass to mingle my Existence with the waves ! Or low or high, Their song is all my music no\v : the notes Of other powers have sometimes filled mine eye ; But from the eternal sea an anthem floats, That fills and lifts the soul ! — keep hence artistic rotes. 60 MISCELLANEOUS. SONNET TO MISS M — W MBOWERED, where the zephyrs of a clime, Kich in its floral loveliness, do play Their summer gambols at the close of day, Thou sittest, thinking, and it is the time When thought grows spiritual and sublime- Before the mellowing and lessening ray Of the beloved twilight hour gives way To later eve — while still the sounds do chime, When heard, with nature's whisperings; and thine eye Eeveals the inspiration of a heart That catches wisdom's notes with impulse high ! 0! lady, thus inspired, thine is a part Of the expression of our God anigh : A form of the adorable thou art. MISCELLANEOUS. 61 TO A YOUNG LADV FRIEND. (llf HER ABSENCE ONE EVENINO FROM OUR BOARDINQ-HOUSE.) [Y heart turns back to other days^ And cons their pleasures over ; And leaves its sighs in all the ways I've trod, a reckless rover ; Sweet were the hours of love and song, And gay as fond the lover ; Nor thought as time flew swift along, The dark clouds soon would hover. But while I've life still let me hope, Let weakness cease repining ; The wisest men through darkness grope. And who knows God's refining % Let thoughts of friends alone me cheer, For mine could be no kinder ; And I can say of one most dear, She threw a klea behind her. 5.e MISCELLANEOUS. TO MISS K Q , S heaven, that through tlie gloom of night Its starry radiance streams, So, love, art thou, thy dark eyes' light Subduing, charming beams. Alas ! that thou should'st have the power To move and fascinate, V/hile I must live Irom hour to hour, The wretched child of fate. The chance of knowing health again 1^0 more appears to me ; And oh ! the thought — how weak ray pen — Is hell since knowing thee. BURNSON'S BELIEF. (thi commbnts of an invalid on sbbinq a poor, or.D DOO FOBMEBLT KNOWN AS A FINE, NOBLB ANIMAL.) fY noble friend so strong and brave, That scornedst alike the foe and wave, Hast thou too reached where nought can sav*5 From lowly lying ] Ay ! soon they'll put thee in the grave. Beyond that sighing. MISCELLANEOUS. 53 )0O av^ 'Twas truly grand thy fearless dart At duty's call to do thy part ; But ah I too feeble now thou art For any mission ; It almost makes the tear-drop start, Thy sad condition. But should it be as I've been taught, Perhaps I'll learn to bless the lot Of those like theo that go to nought, (Av I expect it,) Instead of getting it " red hot " For disinfectant. Though that is not just what they preach, Eternal burning's what they teach, To gnash the teeth and wail and screech, Each son and daughter, But never get within the reach Of a drop of water. To scorch and bake and roast and broil. And still live on — such flesh won't spoil — Or hold one foot up from the soil All brimstone burning. Till he gets tired of such damned toil And goes to mourning. mm Si MISCELLANEOUS, Yet fear I not such fate will iall To any creature on this ball ; Sure the Creator of us all Is not so cruel, That he would damn us great and small For useless fuel ! Ah that harsh wind — I'll have to say Good-bye, ray friend, and haste away, Or V\\ be coughing all the day — Thous't not that bother- Though well I might prolong my stay With such a brother* ^»i0M0i>^ i MISCELLANEOUS, 55 THE EMIGRANTS. (These line* W«r« written to form a part of StaDjas on Odd Fellowship ; but the form of that piece wt-i^ cfaanged and these lines excluded). ""^WAS when the summer days welt) long, When yet the gmin was growing gteen, When yet the wild flowers fair were seen, In Scandanavia, by a throng That from a deck looked back to land) Silent two men were seen to stand. Th'?y gazed upon the fields and hills> Where they had roamed in youthful days, Content wilk boyish aims and plays. When scarce they knew this life has ills. — He, who to foreign lands has t\imed. May know the thoughts that in them burned. From Sweden, bottnd ths waters o'er; They sailed, two nobly good y «uig men ; Their hearts were strong and cheerful then With vlsiotos of the New World's shore ; Nor KHjcked they of the ocean broad Between it und their native sod. 6G MISCELLANEOUS. Each was the other's dearest friend ; Together they had wrought and read, The same had been their room and bed ; And thus they wished, till heaven would send A day oi happier fortune still, And they their spheres in homes should fill. But oh ! of all we plan on earth, How little do we realize ! Of all the aims our glad hearts prize, How few survive their year of birth ! Of all the slippery hopes we grasp, How few are kept within our olasp ! man, a wonder to thyself ! A being blind in plan and deed, In gathering gain or curing need, In doing good or hoarding pelf ; And oft while hurrying on thy track, Retreating then most swiftly back ! Thy hopes are like the dews of morn. And evanescent in their hour. As is the moisture on the flower. When summer windj are o'er it borne : Oh ! brother man, short-sighted, vain, Is most we do for good or gain ! II MISCELLANEOUS, 57 In mill ocean the cry was heard, " The ship's on fiie !" " the ship's on fire T O God \ of all the tidings dire, That ever rose by human word, Protect me from that awful sound, When helpless hundreds crowd around ! Another eve, and from the end Of other ship, one Swede looked 4e F^ARTIIsiQ OF LOVERS. (some LiNES FOUim €^ A MISLilli LBAf' OF A DBSTBOTECf POElf.) jE, ^lio would kno\t lio\^ lovers part, Must pre8» the lovo«l oi\q to hia heart ) 'Arttl feel wliiit ne'er can be expressed, liow throbs the i;>!irting lover's breast, While turning froni the one nirrst deaf, More than all else he knows of here j lu whom are fixed his llctiics for life. Conic weal or \voe, conic i^eace or strife ; 111 pbabo enotigh she to be nigh, tu \^ar hei^ name to forlifv. l^hoy parted. ! how lovers part, "Who love with all (inselHsh heart, Esteeming each the other more Than sfelfi or fame, or >vealth, or lore, To be fdr months, perhaps for years, Apart in suffering, danger, fears ! Sweet had been all his wonis, but vain For more than merely lessening pain, Such as was sickening her heart, So sad to her the thought, we part I i) MISCELLANEOUS, & They who h.ive sat at eventitle, Beneath the arbor side by side, Each to the other duubly dear, Alas ! the parting moment near ; And felt the last embrace and kiss — O were it not the last, what bliss — Then from the clasp of fondest love, Turned in the bitter pangs of parting. May know , p , f ■ org^^^ TO MISS '•m-riarf niJOWN like change moonbeams on a patk Through gloomy woods and wild, TIas been sweet pleasure round my heart. When thou hast only smiled. Oh how I hate the bitter thought, That we must part forever ; For though I ne'er may see thee mora, J (can iorgejb tliee navjur. 60 MISCELLANEOUS. A TROUBLE OF LUNQ T;?DU3LE. (to a brother invalid.) 'HEN" tired and warm, To keep you from harm, Minii the virtues of lemon and birley ; "Puiiua * stick/ And drink it down quick," And leave a ten-cent piece with Charley. But I slwMild not conno bore To test "Charley's" cheer, "Were I able to reach our hotel, sir > I abhor a saloon, And would count that a boon, Which would, banish them all otf to bell, sir. i I j^^ MISCELLANEOUS, 61 THE MAN THE MORE MEANLY DEGRADED OF THE TWO. (on hearing op the SEDDCTION 0? A PRETTY 80HOOLMATB.) HE wretch of whom it can be said, ** He led one so she fell," Has sunken to as foul a depth As any e'er called hell. But he who mends that monster crime By marriage, love and care, In greater part atones for it. And saves the erring fain (a/7?ArQ PAYING THE PENALTY. (a TOUNO man's LAUBNT BETURNBr> TO HIM IN VIR8B. [0 !iira who turns in memory back To youth and ^ ,ve's beginning, While tortuied now on suffering's rack, How dire v.he cobt of sinning .' m MISCELLANEOUS, Like fruit from Sodom's cursed soil Have been my pleasure's flashes ; With eager lips I aeized the spoil. But now I taste the ashes ! Q/TP^l/^ STANZAS (WBITTBN OK THE PACTFIC, OFF SOOTHBRN CALIFORNIA, BUT NOT IN SIGHT OF LAND.) WIDE expanse of waters ! not a saii To break the iiely, mild monotony Of the Pacific ! Those who can regale Themselves with its refreshing breeze, and see Beauty in ocean ever, hero may be Content in sooth, and not without delight ; The very motion brings a kind of glee, In keeping with the sky and wavelets bright ; And pleasure still is found through feeling and through sight But to the eastward is a land so dear, I reck but that we leave it far behind ! There have I oft been glad in friendly cheer ; And found such pleasure oft with bright^ refined^ i i JOT ' MISCELLANEOUS, 63 Profusely nature-gifted, charming mind, I can but gaze, though the hoiizon bounds Show not the shore. Its memories are twined Around my heart. Upon its varied grounds I've mused with nature oft, and joyed in social sounds. Ballcna is not rich as many a spot In Southern California, where the palm Can flourish and all fruits abound ; 'tis not Bedecked so much with beauty ; but the balm Of its pure atmosphere inspires a calm Through weary, troubled mind ; its water-springs Are limpid ; its nights cool : a very psalm Of peace is taught one by the toilless things, Which its secluded life gently around him biings. But I am journeying homeward ! and the thought Of those so loving and beloved ; the home Of hopeful boyhood ; and the holy plot Of our departed, whither from the douje Of life and love, the scene of toil and tome. The mother and two sisters have been borne — One kissed me weeping ere I turned to roam — This thoiight succeeds the grief that I have torn Myself from much so dear, and I no longer mourn. 64 MISCELLANEOUS. " Sail ho ! to windward of the starboard bow I Come out on deck ; that writing gear belay !" Ay, ay ! my hearty friend, I'm with you now ; Where is your steamer 1 right beside us, eh 1 " The Panama Mail Steamship too, they say." We pass the naval compliments ; the sea And night-full close the view ; each goes his way ; * Men meet, and greet, and part eternally ' — But now the Southern Cross a brighter theme shall bo. NOVA SOOTIA. (on BBACHINO nova SCOTIA AFTER AN ABSBNCB OF SEVEN TEARS.) Y native land ! my native land ! Once more I stej) upon thy sod, Once ir.ore beneath that flag I stand. Still held so dear through years abroad. My native land ! my own dear home ! Blest bo the souls that drew me here ; True, I have loved afar to roam. But O I find thee doubly dear ! i / MISCELLANEOUS, 65 50. i i.) ]My quickened heart its homage pays ; Would that my words its warmtli might toll I Who holds the harp tliat sounds thy praise ? Fain would I once its numbers swell ! My own dear land of rolling hills, And leafy woods on mount and plain, And flowery banks by pleasant rills, And fair slopes stretching toward the main. What though within thy stem-rock bounds I see no palm nor mango wave, Nor hear from spicy lx)wer the sounds Of southlands where thy waters lave. Thine are the sons of honest toil And sweet contentment crowns their lot ! O may thy patriots guai\i their soil, Thy sons can find no happier spot. : ee MISCELLANEOUS. THE OANADIAN'8 PROUD MOPE. WE, fifiy years more will have come, hurrah ! We shall joy o'er a nation's birth ; We shall be the Republic of Canada, Fit to join with the greatest of earth ! Our parents far over the ocean we love, But we 'cannot brook trammels like theirs ; Wo must choose our own rulers, a king is for serf*i, And by lorddom no patriot swears. Our longitude also between the great seas, Even should king and lorddom go down, Unfits us for joining our senate with tla-irs ; And their vote would be worse than the crown. MtSCELLANKOtlS, 67 k TRURO. (cnt VIBWINQ TUB TOWN PROM ONtfbOW.) fllERK nt t!>e head of Cobequid Stands Truro, quiet town and fair ; Green woods and pleasant fields around, And folk within unprcssed with caro. The hurrying of the busy mart, The crowded thoroughfare at eve, They have not such to jostle through j Nor riot hordes o'er which to grieve. And though the great may still be thence \ A Tyndall nor a Dickens come, A Booth, a Beecher, never heard, There is no torturing city hum. But manly strength and enterprise And talent there are not unknown, While beauty in a galaxy, And modest worth are e^er shown. Truro, when I first beheld Thy curling smoke, and towers, and "size," How was my youthful spirit moved. How eager were my youthful eyes ! 68 MISCELLANEOUS, And now the tortures and the charms Of city life all un forgot, Now shall I praise and bl'ime thee more For what thou art o : still art not ? oy^^iij^ HOME AND HOPE. 18C5. " IN THE LEAFY MONTH OP JUNE.'* I UK homestead with its pleasant scenes, Extends along the river's side, Whose banks the stately evergreens, High towering o'er their moss cloak, hide. cheerful is the li^ht that beams Through foliage on the water's face ! And blissful is the hope that gleams For earnest hearts in life's great race. (S MhSCELLANKOUS. 60 THANKS TO LONGFELLOW. Longfellow, thou who hast sung us Evangeline, ^ Singing so sweetly and teaching so wisely, Ever interpreting Nature so charmingly, Here in the Acadie thou hast exalted, Here would I, though not descended frc^ni king- MTonged, Ancient Acadians, (still not inheriting Lands they were driven from,) fain would I thank thee. Acadie's self for thy lay has grown clearer ; Patience, and woman's devotion seem grander, Hope more effective, and earth more delightful. e/iyjb^ MISS J- G- 'WEET is the flower of early spring, That blooms the first to greet the eye ; Sweet is the bird that comes to sing His morning song my window by. But sweeter far than flower or bird Is she whom I have met to-day. Sweeter than can be told by word A bonnie lassie, kind and gay. 70 MtSGELLANEOtlS. TO MISS T- lEAK coz. : Why is thy pretty voice So seldom heard within our dwelling 1 Tliy presence makes my heart rejoice — But sure thy charms 'twere useless telling. Yet, though so clear to others' eyes, Perhaps thy modesty prevents thee From seeing worth they highly prize ; Or is it, * power unused contents thee V Oh ! why arc gifted friends so rare ; And voices sweet so often wanting ] Nature shines richly everywhere, But man, how poor, with all his vaunting ! 14 ■x\l\\\!///// MISCELLANEOUS. 71 S- TO MISS B — T FRIEND of mine, so truly dear ! Oft I look back to thy sweet land ; And know I none, or there or here, Who can like thee my heart command. From some remote, divine retreat An angel must have brought to thee That nameless charm, but charm so sweet. Which makes thee what thou art to me. Thy loved ones are a favored few — And do they truly know thy worth t in my dreams 'tis thou I view ! And think thy land the blest of earth. The words " I like," though in my speech Kot as in theirs who but pretend, Can never here my feeling teach : Ah ! yo te amOf darling friend. ,i: 1'f 7^ MISCELLANEOUS, ADVICE ABOUT MARRYING. TO MISS . [E who can love you with a strong, true love, Possesses power to conceal his grief That you refused him ; ay ! to make you cease To grieve for either, parting as if lief. Then be not moved by a persistent one Against your heart and sense to give your hand. Match not but where both love and reason urg'e : Take that for ground, and firmly keep your stand. PART OF AN EPISTLE TO CLEMENT t. LITTLE AND ROSS MCLEAN. ;RIENDS of my youth, companions of the days When life could gather joys a thousand ways, When hope would paint, in hues divinely fair, The scenes to come as if there vf'^re no care. While with me now an hour in looking back, Kor mourn though we can ti-acc no shining track. MISCELLANEOUS. 73 le dd. Ay ! though the years have brought no wealth nor fame, But that which makes us scarce ourselves the same — A change in daily thoughts, beliefs, and tast«es, As 'mid life*s varied scenes our being wastes — Still must ye Ir to muse o'er some hours fled, Some scenes recall througli which our youth was led, Still love to think of fields, and banks, and streams, Which each with its own thousand memories teems. With reverence first the school-house let us view : I passed it yesterday and thought of you ; And others too of our age in the van Along the restless race from child to man, Of Dunk and Charley, Perley, Lee and Lou, And many others less of whom we knew. And fairer forms before my mind arose, And faces flushed from "Copenhagen's" close — A game I hate, though cherry lips I love, I would their sweets in private only prove — But ah ! though these so fair, so sportive those, IIow many now within the tomb repose ! The teachers too who labored for our good. How Moore and Creelman plain before me stood ! 7Jt MISCELLANEOUS, I ! t I I can appreciate now their aid and cheer, Since I have learned the teachers' hard career. Yet sighed I lor their work j for it did fill My heart with grief, to see that o'er the hill That house was pushed, outcrowded by a church- God of good, in which should be the birch % THE YEAR. (part of a reverie on the last day of tub tear, 1880.) L 'IME has brought the last leaf of a volume to day, A volume of history, comment, and song ; And ray heart grows pensive, as I turn The last of the leaves v/hich therein belong. O memory, ne'er lead me back through all ! There is sorrow enough in the present page ; When thou pointest my mind to the changeless past. May it be to a joy or a word from the sage. IL And why does Time look s« stern to-day ? Through the frost on the window he first looked in. And he bade good morning with no sweet note, Lut he rattled the stove with fearful din. MISCELLANEaUS. 75 He sits by the fire, and melts the ice From his long, gray beard, so matted and curled ; He talks of his work, nor sighs o*er the way He has swept his terrible scythe through the world. 180.) day, «'> m, IIL O ! look not on him ; but turn thee to me, The memory from which thou hast prayed ne'er to part; I will hold thee the book he has made thee this year ; Head : 'twill moisten thine eye, but 'twill not wring thy heart. IV. In arid ani wild Arizona, I ween, There were faces which I have been happy to see ; There were voices which I have been joyful to hear ; And the winter days there were not all dull to me. V. O Southern California ! How sweet the May morn When I came o'er its flowery plains and rich vales ; How soothing tlie streams to my thirsty eyes. As they rippled away from the fern-covered dalea. 76 MISCELLANEOUS. Fair land of the orangR, and citron, aud olive ! The viue, and the inyrtie, and laurel are there ; And oft do the notes of some maiden's guitar From her lovod garden-bower float out on the air. How oft in the summer beneath the dense fig-t^ee, I have mused on great Nature with poet sublime ; Or followed the tale of some fond lover's wooing, Fanned by zephyrs so sweet, that are breathed in that clime. QJ^tiJ^ A WISH TO BE IN YUMA, ARIZONA, FOR THE WINTER. % S (to j. e. hurford, esc?.) ■ '" " "' ^'M ^ ♦'^ * f-' ''riH' fptnt this s^now ;, \\ iiinds which are not pained at such The spirit of beauty of pity. HI I "^ 34 ROUNDS IN THE [Behold, where farmers have straight roads, And white-washed barns and fences, And fields adorned with lines of trees ! How pleasing to the senses ! 'Tie not enough to have some trees In clumps about the dwelling ; But beautify the country all, Life's stores of pleasure swelling. Q^ngji^re) f DO RIGHT. jO right ! Never try to keep in the fashion If the fashion is not right ; The fools on 'ihe watch for every new style Have smali views but by physical sight. Do right ! No matter what others may say, 'Tis the nobler part to do right ! Salt your book etiquette with good sense ; and work : You will win, trusting but your own might. LADDER OF LIFE. 85 ABUSE OF ANYTHING COUNTED GREAT SINi ^^Y the gifts and the goods we possess, By the courses and work we can choose, We may rise to higher and purer life : To do otherwise is to misuse. And how can we sin against God In any way that will reach Him, so high, As when we abuse His handiworks — Ourselves, or aught else 'neath the sky ] Disease is a form of sin ; 'Tis a wrong development : Men trample on nature's laws, and the effect They say the " Lord's will " has sent. Let us pause ere we speak of God's will. Lest we call our errors His way ; Let *' The gentld mother of us all " direct : Who slight her go meanly astray. Two men went into their barns To lead their horses to drink ; One said, " ha damn you, my pretty sleek Bess ;" He cursed but he did not think. The other's horse shied at the door ; He was one who never did curse, r»ut he whipped the horse; he was hurl and afraid ; Now wliieh of the men sinned worse] a $ 86 ROUNDS IN THE WE WANT SOMETHING HIGHER. 'LEEP comes not to my soul to-night, And I look forth upon the stars ; But I would more than planet light, No influence now hath glowing Mars. Asia hath taught and Europe tried Lore which they claim was brought from heaven; System with system long has vied. And sect with sect to spread its leaven. The bards of Israel have sung, And sweetly told celestial hopes ; Great words from learned lands have rung ; But still the race in darkness gropes. 'I O that such wisdom might be taught As would us lead in paths of bliss ! Heavens, with what earnestness I sought 1 And thence my spirit dictates this : — "We want the creed that sweetens life. The creed of conscience, love, and peace ; We want the end of bigots' strife, "VVe want sectarian walls to cease. aama LADDER OF LIFE. ! we want something higher taught, " Than God as jealous, burning fire : !Fhe pulpit scold uplifts us not ; The wise man points to something higher. 87 % t{\ »; ON LOOKING to GOD, fN looking to the glorious God, What ! bow myself down to the dust, Like serf beneath a nabob's rod % O let me never dread, but trust ! Can the Creatoi? joy to see The minds that should be rising higher, Bowed, as in fear, obsequiously 1 'll'would more, methinks, provoke his ire. ''•I^NlpC^ 1 i G 8S BOUNDS IN THE ■ ( II i A PRAYER, AND AFTERTHOUGHTS. IE Sovereign Powers who rule this human race t So wonderful and fair our dwelling-place, My heart is turned to you in joyful thought, As rise the pleasures of my daily lot ; And, still expanding in its happy state. It seeks the greatest joys in human late : To few or many known, whate'er they he, let your richest blessings fall on me ! And ii 'tis sin, this prayer for more unknown, Forgive, ye Powers, is it not frailty's moan ? Is Hope of you ? 'Tis pleasing Hope doth speak In whispers to my soul, and bid it seek ; . Still seek the good supreme, still onward press, Still further trust this beauteous life to bless — To sail the ocean of sweet pleasures here. In odorous zephyrs from a blissful sphere ; To find ambrosia and the life refine. And catch the music of a realm divine ! * * % ♦ % Though often thus my pmyer in earnest hope, 'Twas not in vain, my soul, that thou didst grope ; The prayer of hope— all hope for good is prayer — Is never breathed in vain upon the air ; LADDER OF LIFE. 89 If unto Powers Divine extend it not, It blesses us in showers of genial thought ; As clouds rise heavenward but descend in rain, And waken beauties on the earthly plain. And if 'tis true, that prayer to gods defined Is but the action of perverted mind, The thought of some one great pervades the whole, And thought of great, good friends uplifts the soul. And all that Conscience, Reason, Nature, teach. Should guide us toward the heights our souls would reach. That liberal to all and sworn to fight, Our course be true to the celestial height. Where man may breathe an atmosphere of peuc©, And still the pleasures of his life increase ! Love, fairest of the Powers, favors mankind ; And ha? our noblest thought as " love " defined ! Love is ihe cream of prayer ; the gratitude Alone, which serves to please the Powers of Good : They may come in and sup, if love the feast. And who gives most have most his love increased : Their ways are all mysterious to man. But Love controls and beautifies their plan. 90 ROUNDS IN THE LADDER OF LIFE, DO SOMETHING. AND I90METHING GOOD. 'ITHOUT the blessed power of wealth, What can we do when not in health ] Though 'tis not given to all mankind To live in health, and pleasure find In rearing offspring trained for good. Or stand as teachers true have stood. Supplying minds with garnered lore, ' True wealth in this age as of yore — Those offices as truly great As any known to mortal state — Though one of millions leads the force That stops the tyrant in his course, Kepels the wrong, and helps the right, And brings the imprisoned forth to light, Or gives the genius-builded plan For helping fast-progressing man ; Yet few are they who cannot find Some good employment for the mind : Kind words may by us all be given And acts oi love make earth a heaven 1 / *- PIECES "tVRITTKN IN Prospect of Death THOUGHTS OF GOD AND MY DESTINY. 1878. HERE is a God, the primsil source Of light, and life, and love ; Who is eternally enthroned Creations £il above ! When He commanded it should foria. The world began its course, And felt from the creative will Preserving, guiding lor^ s^ PIECES WRITTEN IN Wlhelda were decked with flo-.er,, F..^ swa„,,d the water, and the bird, >V.th music filled earth's bawe«. " And man became a living soni '- The chief o'er all beside, Although the loveliest of God's works f - VVas she given for his bride f « Th^ir race is spread o'er every land, ^eath chill and balmy sky • And of the thousand thousandl now • 0»e, a frarl om,, an, I. ' I walk beneath umbrageons trees, I look on fruit and flower • 1 loiter in the orange grove, ' Or sit in spicy bower. I hum the words of lover's song Or liuths of sage recall • I think of friends, o'er nature m„^. ■Wit sorrow flavors alL PROSPECT OF DEATH 93 Ah, weak in body, sad at heart. Soon earth no more I'll sec With mortal eyes, but not hereon My life shall goah'd be. E'en now I feel a gentle cord Unseen, mysterious, That draws me to the (fod of all, • Jehovah glorious] The centre of that Paradise, Eternally outspread From infinite to infinite. The centre and the Head. Thence whither spirits take their llight, Thither my course can be ; And choosing flight sublime, or rest, In joy eternally. mm IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 I.I I" 1^ 2.5 2.2 ii 1^ ^ ^ 1^ IIIIM 1.8 1 1.25 1.4 III ''^ 4 6" - ► V] <^ /2 7 V # Photographic Sdences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, NY. 14580 (716) 873-4503 7, In e end the joy aud strife? PROSPECT OF DEATH, or ray 06 Do I not well that I calmly smile 1 Can I knowr what seeds I have sown f Should I curso what I cannot understand h The great faults were my own. I am not willing to die so young With life-work planned but unwrought : Yet it is some joy that at fate so he '1 Impatience can more me not. And it is not nothing, nor can I laugh. That ' I have no child to keep My name in remembrance ;* but my soul Is as calm as the angel of sleep. A FAREWELL. (MONTSRBT, 1880. AT DAVID JACKS*S, THB WBITER^S SECOND HOMIC) ND I am ready for the sea once more ! And I shall stand upon the deck at eve To ^Ake a last farewell of this loved shore ! And stilli though bounding homeward. I shall grieve w ''rSOES WRITTEN lif Anis circle vnn x»u ^arew^ell for evermore. PROSPECT OF DEATH. 99 THOUGHTS WHEN DEATH SEEMED VERY NEAR. 1881. HEN our beloved friends depart, We take a bright, poetic yiew ; But when we near that death ourselves, We seek to feel but what is true. A plant, an animal, a worid Becomes an individual thing,- Pursues its course, matures, decays, And is returned whence it did spring. Nothing material is lost, But individuality Is known to-day, to-morrow gone— Such is the fate of such as we. XOO Pli:OEs WRITTSN IN THE OQHT AGAINST DEATH ACE to face I have fought the foe '■ .D^-^-S over, foot of «„„„,. r "^ ^'^^"« ^"«A AHO MTE That follows ehan, a„d deep dist„«, Xr?'"^ '■'•-'' «'^« 'he c When I have found the pilWedeaae iiappy moments; and in these /"'mkof,o«r«,rk,„otm,o.n. PROSPECT OF DEATH. 201 How you have blessed me many a day ! Devoted, helpful, loving care ! Through years when I was far away, Your kindness followed everywhere. And must I die without the power To recompence you ought for all ? You have my love and thanks each hour, But they, in world so bright, how small ! O yes, this life is beautiful ! In youthful, healthful, hopeful day, Like children sweet and dutiful, The varied seasons round us pla}'. No day without its joys is found. While we have mind unclouded still : Hearen is within us and around. And each may brighten his at will. ( THE END.