THE OP AUTUMN FLOWERS. BY MRS. SOUTHEY srttf) bltion. ) i T R 0 I T: Kl.:-," DOUGHTY & LAPHAM. CONTENTS. Page. Autumn Flowers,. *. ~ My Garden,....... To little Mary, ~ ~. 16 "' Sufficient unto the Day is the Evil thereof,". 20 The Treaty,... 80 Abjuration,....... To a dying Infant,. ~ 37 Sunday Evening,. - ~ ~ ~ 43 Little Leonard's last "Good Night," 49 A fair Place and pleasant, ~ ~ 8 The Mariner's Hymn,. ~.. 54 " There is a Tongue in every Leaf," ~.. - The broken Bridge,... 59 The Mother's Lament,... n7 It is not Death," ~.. 73 On the near Prospect of leaving Home, 1888,. 7 4 CONTENTS. The Ladye's Bridalle,. Sonnet, 1818, Sonnet, 1821, Gracious Rain,. The Welcome Home, 1820,. The Night-smelling Stock, My Evening, Farewell to my Friends, The Primrose,.. Farewell to Greece, * The three Friends, ~ ~ Rangers Grave, * Pag. * 78 * * 94 * 95 * * 96 9 * 99 * * 103 107 117 * 120 * * 122 124 * * 128 AUTUIMN FLOWERS. AUTUMN FLOWERS. THOSE few pale Autumn flowers, How beautiful they are! Than all that went before, Than all the Summer store, How lovelier far! And why? They are the lastThe last! - the last! - the last! 0, by that little word How many thoughts are stirred That sister of the past! AUTUMN FLOWERS. Pale flowers! pale, perishing flowers! Ye're types of precious things; Types of those bitter moments That flit, like life's enjoyments, On rapid, rapid wings -- Last hours with parting dear ones, (That time the fastest spends,) Last tears, in silence shed, Last words, half-uttered, Last looks of dying friends Wha but would fain compress A life into a day? The last day spent with one Who, ere the morrow's sun, Must leave us, and for aye? 0, precious, precious moments! Pale flowers! ye're types of those, — The saddest, sweetest, dearest, AUTUMN FLOWERS Because, like those, the nearest Is an eternal close. Pale flowers! pale, perishing flowers t I woo your gentle breath; I leave the Summer rose, For younger, blither brows: Tell me of change and death! -4MY GARDEN. I LOVE my garden-dearly love That little spot of ground; There's not, methinks, (though I may err In partial pride,) a pleasanter In all the country round. The smooth, green turf winds gently there, With no ungraceful bend, AUTUMN FLOWERS. Round many a bed and many a border, Where, gayly grouped in sweet disorder, Young Flora's darlings blend. Spring, Summer, Autumn. Of all three, Whose reign is loveliest there? 0, is not she who paints the ground, When its frost-fetters are unbound, The fairest of the fair? I gaze upon her violet beds, Laburnums, golden-tressed, Her flower-spiked almonds, breathe perfume From lilach and seringa bloom, And cry, " I love Spring best! " But Summer comes, with all her pomp Of fragrance, beauty, bliss, And, from amidst her bowers of r2ses, I sigh, as purple evening closes, 1 What season equals this r AUTUMN FLOWERS. 9 That pageant passeth by. Comes next Brown Autumn in her turn: 0, not unwelcome cometh she; The parch6d earth luxuriously Drinks from her dewy urn. And she hath flowers, and fragrance to, Peculiarly her own; Asters of every hue; perfume Spiced rich with clematis and broom, And mignionette late blown. Then if some lingering rose I spy Reclining languidly, Or the bright laurel's glossy green, Dear Autumn, my whole heart, I ween, Leaps up for love of thee O yes! I love my garden well, And find employment there,Employment sweet for many an hour AUTUMN FLOWERS. -a tending every shrub and flower With still unwearied care. I prop the weakly, prune the rude, Scatter the various seeds, Clear out intruders, yet of those Oft sparing what the florist knows To be but gaudy weeds. But when my task - my pleasant task - Is ended for the day, - Sprinkled o'er every sun-bowed flower The artificial evening shower,Then oftentimes I stray, (Inherent is the love of change In human hearts,) far, far Beyond the garden gate, -the bound That clips my little Eden round, Chance for my leading star, AUTUMN FLOWERS. 11 Through hollow lanes or coppice paths, By hill or hawthorn fence, O'er thymy commons, clover fields, Where every step I take reveals Some charm of sight or sense The winding path brings suddenly A rustic bridge in sight; Beneath it, gushing brightly out, The rivulet, where speckled trout Leap in the circling light. Pale water-lilies float thereon, The Naiads' loveliest wreath; The adders' tongues dip down to drink The flag peers high above the brink, From her long, slender sheath. There, on the greensward, an old oak Stands singly; one, I trow, Whose mighty shadow spread as wide 12 AUTUMN FLOWERS. When they were in their prime who die A hundred years ago. A single ewe, with her twin lambs, Stands the gray trunk beside; Others lie clustering in the shade, Or down the windings of the glade Are scattered far and wide. Two mossy thorns, o'er yonder stile, A bowery archway rise; 0, what a flood of fragrance thence Breathes out! Behind that hazel fence A flowering bean-field lies. The shadowy path winds gently on That hazel fence beneath; The wild-rose and the woodbine there Shoot up, festooning high in air Their oft-entangled wreath AUTUMN FLOWERS. 13 The path winds on, on either side Walled in by hedges high; Their boughs so thickly arching over, That scarce one speck you can discoverOne speck of the blue sky. A lovely gloom! It pleaseth me And lonely Philomel. Hark! the enchantress sings; that strain Dies with a tremulous fall;-again0, what a gushing swell! Darker and darker still the road, Scarce lit by twilight glances; Darker and darker still - but see! Yonder, on that young aspen-tree, A darting sunbeam dances. Another gems the hank below With emeralds; into one They blend - unite - one emerald sea; 14 AUTUMN FLOWERS. And last, in all his majesty, Breaks through the setting.sun. And I am breathless, motionless, Mute with delight and love; My very being seems to blend With all around me-to ascend To the great Source above. I feel I am a spark struck out From an eternal flame; A part of the stupendous whole; His work who breathed a deathless soul Into this mortal frame. And they shall perish -all these things; Darkness shall quench this ball; Death-throes this solid earth shall rive Yet I-frail thing of dust!- survive The final wreck of all. AUTUMN FLCWERS 1 " Wake up, my glory! lute and harp " Be vocal every chord! Lo! all his works in concert sing, " Praise, praise to the Eternal King," The Universal Lord! 0 powerless will! 0 languid voice. Weak words! imperfect lays! Yet could his works alone inspire The feelings that attune my lyre To these faint notes of praise. Not to the charms of tasteful art That I am cold or dull; I gaze on all the graceful scene, The clustering flowers, the velvet green, And cry. " How beautiful!" But when to Nature's book I turn, — The page she spreads abroad,Wears, only to mine eyes that steak, la AUTUMN FLOWERS. Bear witness that I see and feel The mighty hand of God. TO LITTLE MARY I'm bidden, little Mary, To write verses unto thee, I'd fain obey the bidding, If it rested but with me, But the mistresses I'm bound to, (Nine ladies hard to please,) Of all their stores poetic So closely keep the keys, Tis only now and then, By good luck, as we may say, A couplet or a rhyme or two Falls fairly in my way. Fruit forced is never half so sweet As that comes quite in season; AUTUMN FLOWERS. 17 But some folks must be satisfied With rhyme, in spite of reason, So, muses, all befriend me,Albeit of help so chary,To string the pearls of poesy For loveliest little Mary. And yet, ye pagan damsels, Not over-fond am I To invoke your haughty favors - Your fount of Castaly; I've sipped a purer fountain; I've decked a holier shrine; I own a mightier mistress; O Nature, thou art mine. And only to that well-head, Sweet Mary, I'll resort, For just an artless verse or two,A simple strain, and short,Befitting well a pilgrim 18 AUTUMN FLOWERS Way-worn with care and strife,To offer thee, young traveller, In the morning track of life. There's many a one will tell thee'Tis all with roses gay; There's many a one will tell thee'Tis thorny all the way. Deceivers are they, every one, Dear child, who thus pretend: God's ways are not unequal; Make him thy trusted Friend, And many a path of pleasantness He'll clear away for thee, However dark and intricate The labyrinth may be. I need not wish thee beauty, I need not wish thee grace; Already both are budding In that infant form and face AUTUMN FLOWERS. 19 I will not wish thee grandeur, I will not wish thee wealth; But only a contented heart, Peace, competence, and health; Fond friends to love thee dearly, And honest friends to chide, And faithful ones to cleave to thee, Whatever may betide. And now, my little Mary, If better things remain Unheeded in my blindness, Unnoticed in my strain,I'll sum them up succinctly In "English undefiled,"My mother-tongue's best benison,God bless thee, precious child! 20 AUTUMN FLOWERS. "SUFFICIENT UNTO THE DAY IS THE EVIL THEREOF." O, BY that gracious rule Were we but wise to steer On the wide sea of thought, What moments, trouble-fraught, Were spared us here! But we, (perverse and blind,) As covetous of pain, Not only seek for more Yet hidden, but live o'er The past again. This life is called brief; Man on the earth but crawls His threescore years and ten,At best fourscore,- and then The ripe fruit falls. AUTUMN FLOWERS. 21 Yet, betwixt birth and death, Were but the life of man By his thoughts measuael, To what an age would spread That little span! There are who're born and die,Eat, sleep, walk, rest between, Talk, act by clockwork too; So pass, in order due, Over the scene;With whom the past is past, The future, nothing yet; And so, from day to day, They breathe, till called to pay The last great debt. Their life, in truth, is brief; A speck-a point of time, Whether in good old age 22 AUTUMN FLOWERS. Ending their pilgrimage, Or in its prime But other some there are, (I call them not more wise,) In whom the restless mind Still lingereth behind, Or forward flies. With these, things pass away; But past things are not dead; In the heart's treasury, Deep-hidden, dead they lie, Unwithered. And there the soul retires From the dull things that are, To mingle, oft and long, With the time-hallowed throng Of those that were. AUTUMN FLOWERS Then into life start out The scenes long vanish6d; Then we behold again The forms that have long lain Among the dead. We seek their grasp of love, We meet their beaming eye; We speak-the vision's flown, Dissolving with its own Intensity. Years rapidly shift on, (Like clouds athwart the sky,) And lo! sad watch we keep, When in perturbed sleep The sick doth lie. We gaze on some pale face, Shown by the dim watch-light; Shuddering, we gaze, and pray, 24 AUTUMN FLOWERS. And weep, and wish away The long, long night. And yet minutest things, That mark time's tedious tread, Are on the feverish brain, With self-protracting pain, Deep minuted;The drops with trembling hand (Love-steadied) poured out; The draught replenished, The label oft re-read With nervous doubt;The watch, that ticks so loud; The winding it for one Whose hand lies powerless; And then the fearful guess, " Ere this hath run " AUTUMN FLOWERS. 25 The shutter, half unclosed As the night wears away, Ere the last stars are set, - Pale stars! that linger yet Till perfect day;The morn, so oft invoked, That bringeth no relief; From which, with sickening sight, We turn, as if its light But mocked our grief! 0, never, after dawn, For us the east shall streak, But we shall see again, With the same thoughts as then, That pale day-break! - The desolate awakening, When first we feel alone;"Dread memories " are these; 26 AUTUMN FLOWERS. Yet who for heartless ease Would exchange one? These are the soul's hid wealthRelics embalmed with tears. Or, if her curious eye Searches futurity,The depth of years,There (from the deck of youth) Enchanted land she sees; Blue skies and sun-bright bowers Reflected, and tall towers, On glassy seas. But heavy clouds collect Over that bright-blue sky, And rough winds rend the trees, And lash those glassy seas To billows high. AUTUMN FLOWERS. And then, the last thing seen By that dim light may be (With helm and rudder lost) A lone wreck, tempest-tost, On the dark sea. Thus doth the soul extend Her brief existence here Thus multiplieth she (Yea, to infinity) The short career Presumptuous and unwise. As if the present sum Were little of life's woe! Why seeketh she to know Ills yet to come? Look up, look up, my soul, To loftier mysteries! Trust in his word to thee is AUTUMN FLOWERS. Who saith, " All tears shall be Wiped from all eyes." And when thou turnest back, (0, what can chain thee here?) Seek out the isles of light On " memory's waste " yet bright; Or, if too near. To desolate plains they lie, All dark with guilt and tears, Still, still retrace the past, Till thou alight, at last, On life's first years. There not a passing cloud Obscures the sunny scene; No blight on the young tree; No thought of what may be, Or what hath been. AUTUMN FLOWERS. 29 There all is hope -not hope, For all things Ire possessed; No-bliss without alloy, And innocence and joy, In the young breast; And all-confiding love, And holy ignorance, Thrice blessed veil! soon torn From eyes foredoomed to mourn For man's offence. 0, thither, weary spirit, Flee from this world defiled. How oft, heart-sick and sore, I've wished I were once more A little child! 30 AUTUMN FLOWERS. THE TREATY. NEVER tell me of loving by measure and weight, As one's merits may lack or abound; As if love could be carried to market, like skate, And cheapened for so much a pound. If it can, - if yours can, - let them have it who care; You and I, friend, shall never agree; Pack, and to market; be off with your ware; It's a great deal too common for me. Do ye linger and laugh? I'm sincere, I declare, But belike over-hasty in thought; If it suits ye to close with my terms as they are, Well and good - but I won't bate a jot. You must love me —we'll note the chief articles now, To preclude all mistakes in our pact. AUTUMN FLOWERS. 31 And I'll pledge ye, unmasked and beforehand, my vow, To give double for al I exact. You must love me not only through "evil report," When its falsehood you know or divine, But when, upon earth, I can only resort To your heart as a voucher for mine. You must love me -not my faults, but, in spite of them, me, For the very caprices that vex ye; Nay, the more, should ye chance, as it's likely, to see'Tis my special delight to perplex ye. You must love me, albeit all the world I offend With my follies, my feelings, conceit, While assured (if you are not, all treaty must end) That I never can stoop to dsceit; - While assured, as we must be, (or there, too, we must part,) 32 AUTUMN FLOWERS. That, were all the world leagued against you, To loosen one hair of your hold on my heart Would be more than "life's labors" could do. You must love me, howe'er I may take things amiss, Whereof you in all conscience stand clear; And although, when you'd fain make it up with a kiss, Your reward be a box on the ear. You must love me not only when smiling and gay, Complying, sweet-tempered, and civil, But when moping, and frowning, and froward, orto say The thing plain out- as cross as the devil You must love me in all moods, -in seriousness, in sport, - Under all change of circumstance, too; part, or together, in crowd, or-in short, You must love me because I love you. AUTUMN FLOWERS. 33 ABJURATION. THERE was a time, -sweet time of youthful follyj - Fantastic woes I courted, feigned distress, Wooing the veiled phantoim Melancholy With passion, born, like Love, "in idleness." And, like a lover, - like a jealous lover, - I hid mine idol with a miser's art,Lest vulgar eyes her sweetness should discover,Close in the inmost chambers of mine heart. And then I sought her,-oft in secret sought her, From merry mates witlhdrawn and mirthful playiTo wear away, by sonme deep, stilly water, In greenwood haunt, the livelong summer day; Watching the flitting clouds, the fading flowers, The flying rack athwart tile wvving grass, And murmuring oft, " AlAack, this life of ours! Such are its joys! so swiftly doth it pass I " 3 34 AUTUMN FLOWERS. And then mine idle tears (ah, silly maiden!) Bedropt the liquid grass like summer rain, And sighs, as from a bosom sorrow-laden, Heaved the light heart that knew no real pain. And then I loved to haunt lone burial-places, To pace the churchyard earth with noiseless tread To pore in new-made graves for ghastly traces — Brown, crumbling bones-of the forgotten dead; To think of passing-bells, of death and dying;'Twere good, methougbt, in early youth to die; So loved! lamented! in such sweet sleep lying, The white shroud all with flowers and rosemary Stuck o'er by loving hands! But then'twould grieve me Too sore, forsooth! the scene my fancy drew; I could not bear the thought to die and leave ye; And I have lived, dear friends, to weep for you AUTUMN FLOWERS. 35 And I have lived to prove what " fading flowers," - And life's best joys, and all we love and prize,What chilling rains, succeed the summer showers! What bitter drops wrung slow from elder eyes! And I have lived to look on " death and dying," To count the sinking pulse, the shortening breath, To watch the last faint life-streak flying-flyingTo stoop, to start, to be alone with death. And I have lived to feign the smile of gladness, When all within was cheerless, dark, and cold; When all earth's joy seemed mockery and madness And life more tedious than " a tale twice told." And now,- and now,- pale, pining Melancholy I No longer veiled for me your haggard brow In pensive sweetness, such as youthful folly Fondly conceited; I abjure ye now! Away! avaunt! No longer now I call ye " Divinest Melancholy! mild, meek maid!" 36 AUTUMN FLOWERS. No longer may your siren spells inthrall me, A willing captive in your baleful shade. "Give me the voice of mirth, the sound of laughte The sparkling glance of Pleasure's roving eye; The past is past; avaunt, thou dark hereafter! Come, eat and drink; to-morrow we must die." So, in his desperate mood, the fool hath spoken,The fool, whose heart hath said " there is no God; But for the stricken soul -the spirit broken - There's balm in Gilead still. The very rod, If we but kiss it as the stroke descendeth, Distilleth oil to allay the inflicted smart; And "peace that passeth understanding" blendetWith the deep sighing of the contrite heart. Mine be that holy, humble tribulation, No longer "feigned distress, fantastic woe;" I know my griefs; but then my consolation, My trust, and my immortal hopes, I know AUTUMN FLOWERS 37 TO A DYING INFANT. SLEEP, little baby, sleep; Not in thy cradle bed, Not on thy mother's breast, Henceforth shall be thy rest, But with the quiet dead. Yes, with the quiet dead, Baby, thy rest shall be. 0, many a weary wight, Weary of life and light, Would fain lie down with thee! Flee, little tender nursling, Flee to thy grassy nest; There the first flowers shall blow, The first pure flakes of snow Shall fall upon thy breast. 38 AUTUMN FLOWERS. Peace! peace! the little bosom Labors with shortening breath. Peace! peace! that tremulous sigh Speaks his departure nigh; Those are the damps of death. I've seen thee in thy beauty, A thing all health and glee; But never, then, wert thou So beautiful as now, Baby, thou seemest to me; Thine upturned eyes glazed over, Like harebells wet with dew, Already veiled and hid By the convulsed lid, Their pupils darkly blue; Thy little mouth half open, The soft lip quivering, As if, like summer air AUTUMN FLOWERS. 39 Ruffling the rose leaves, there Thy soul were fluttering. Mount up, immortal essence! Young spirit, hence. depart! And is this death? Dread thing! If such thy visiting, How beautiful thou art. 0, I could gaze forever Upon that waxen face, So passionless! so pure! The little shrine was sure An angel's dwelling-place. Thou weepest, childless mother! Ay, weep;'twill ease thine heart He was thy first-born son - Thy first, thine only one;'Tis hard from him to part. 40 AUTUMN FLOWERS.'Tis hard to lay thy darling Deep in the damp, cold earth; His enipty crib to see, His silent nursery, Late singing with his mirth; To meet again, in slumber, His small mouth's rosy kiss, Then-wakened with a start By thine own throbbing heartHis twining arms to miss; And then to lie and weep, And think, the livelong night, (Feeling thine own distress With accurate greediness,) Of every past delight; Of all his winning ways, his pretty, playful smiles, His joy at sight of thee, AUTUMN FLOWERS. 4' His tricks, his mimicry, And all his little wiles. 0, these are recollections Round mothers' hearts that cling! That mingle with the tears And smiles of after years, With oft awakening. But thou wilt then, fond mother, In after years, look back (Time brings such wondrous easing) With sadness and unpleasing, Even on this gloomy track. Thou'lt say, " My first-born blessing, It almost broke my heart, When thou wert forced to go; And yet, for thee. 1 know'Twas better to depart, 42 AUTUMN FLOWERS. "God took thee in his mercy, A lamb untasked, untried; He fought the fight for thee, He won the victory, And thou art sanctified. " 1 look around, and see The evil ways of men, And 0, beloved child! I'm more than reconciled To thy departure then. " The little arms that clasped me, The innocent lips that prest, Would they have been as pure Till now, as when of yore I lulled thee on my breast? "Now, like a aew-drop shrined Witnin a crystal stone, Thou'rt safe in heaven, my dove! AUTUMN FLOWERS 43 Safe with the Source of love, The everlasting One! "And when the hour arrives From flesh that sets me free, Thy spirit may await, The first at heaven's gate, To meet and welcome me." SUNDAY EVENING. I SAT, last Sunday evening, From sunset even till night, At the open casement, watching The day's departed light Such hours to me are holy,Holier than tongue can tell; They fall on my heart like dew On the parched heather-bell 44 AUTUMN FLOWERS, The sun had shone bright all day; His setting was brighter still; But there sprang up a lovely air As he dropped the western hill The fields and lanes were swarming With holyday folks in their best, Released from their six days' cares By the seventh day's peace and rest. I heard the light-hearted laugh, The trampling of many feet; I saw them go merrily by, And to me the sight was sweet. There's a sacred, soothing sweetness, A pervading spirit of bliss, Peculiar from all other times, In a Sabbath eve like this. Methinks, though I knew not the day, Nor beheld those glad faces, yet all AUTUMN FLOWERS. 45 Would tell me that Nature was keeping Some solemn festival. The steer and the steed in their pastures Lie down with a look of peace, As if they knew'twas commanded That this day their labor should cease. The lark's vesper song is more thrilling, As he mounts to bid heaven good night; The brook sings a quieter tune, The sun sets in livelier light; The grass, the green leaves, and the flowers, Are tinged with more exquisite hues; More odorous incense from out them Steams up with the evening dews. So I sat, last Sunday evening, Musing on all these things, With that quiet gladness of spirit No thought of this world brings. ~ AUTUMN FLOWERS. I watched the departing glory, Till its last red streak grew pale, And earth and heaven were woven In twilight's dusky veil. Then the lark dropped down to his mate, By her nest on the dewy ground, And the stir of human life Died away to a distant sound All sounds died away-the light laugh, The far footstep, the merry call - To such stillness, the pulse of one's heart Might have echoed a rose leaf's fall. And, ty little and little, the darkness Waved wider its sable wings, Till the nearest objects and largest Became shapeless, confus6d things. And, at last, all was dark; then I felt A cold sadness steal over my heart; AUTUMN FLOWERS. 47 And I said to myself, " Such is life! So its hopes and its pleasures depart!'And when night comes, -the dark night, - What remaineth, oeneath the sun, Of all that was lovely and loved? Of all we have learned and done? "When the eye waxeth dim, and the ear To sweet music grows dull and cold; And the fancy burns low, and the heart - O heavens! can the heart grow old? "Then what remaineth of life But the lees, with bitterness fraught? What then? "- but I checked as it rose, And rebuked, that weak, wicked though And I lifted mine eyes up, and lo! An answer was written on high, By the finger of God himself, In the depths of the dark blue sky 48 AUTUMN FLOWERS. There appeared a sign in the east; A bright, beautiful, fixed star! And I looked on its steady light, Till the evil thoughts fled afar: And the lesser lights of heaven Shone out with their pale, soft rays, Like the caln, unearthly comforts Of a good man's latter days; And there came up a sweet perfume From the unseen flowers below, Like the savor of virtuous deeds, Of deeds done long ago; Like the memory of well-spent time, Of things that were holy and dear; Of friends " departed this life In the Lord's faith and fear." So the burden of darkness was taken From my soul, and my heart felt light: AUTUMN FLOWERS. 49 And I laid me down to slumber With peaceful thoughts that night. LITTLE LEONARD'S LAST "GOOD NIGHT." GoOD night! good night! I go to sleep," * Murmured the little child; And 0, the ray of heaven that broke On the sweet lips that faintly spoke That soft "good night," and smiled! That angel smile! that loving look From the dim, closing eyes! rhe peace of that pure brow! But there - Ay, on that brow, so young, so fairAn awful shadow lies. *The real exclamation of a child, as he died. 4 50 AUTUMN FLOWERS. The gloom of evening, of the boughs That o'er yon willdow waveNay, nay, within these silent walls A deeper, darker shadow falls, The twilight of the grave - The twoilight of the grave; for still Fast comes the fluttering breath; One fading smile, one look of love, A murmur, as from brooding dove, "Good night: - and this is death! 0, who hath called thee "terrible"? Mild angel! most benign! Could mother's fondest lullaby Have laid to rest mIore blissfully That sleeping babe, than thine? Yet this is death-the doom for all Of Adam's race decreed; " But this poor lamb, this little one, AUTUMN FLOWERS. 51 What had the guiltless creature done? " Unhappy heart, take heed! Though HE is merciful as just Who hears that fond appeal, He will not break the bruised reed, He will not search the wounds that bleed; He only wounds to heal. " Let little children come to me," He cried, and to his breast Folded them tenderly; to-day He calls thine unshorn lamb away To that securest rest. 52 AUTUMN FLOWERS. A FAIR PLACE AND PLEASANT. A FAIR place and pleasant, this same world of ours. Who says there are serpents'mong all the swee flowers? Who says every blossom we pluck has its thorn? Pho! pho! laugh these musty old sayings to scorn. If you roam to the tropics for flowers rich and rare, No doubt there are serpents, and deadly ones, there If none but the rose will content ye,'tis true Ye may get sundry scratches, and ugly ones too. But pr'ythee look there; could a serpent find room In that close-woven moss, where those violet bloo,m. And reach me that woodbine, (you'll get it witq ease;) Now, wiseacre, where are the thorns, if you please. AUTUMN FLOWERS. 53 say there are angels in every spot,'hough our dim, earthly vision discerneth them not;'hat they're guardians, assigned to the least of us all:y Him who takes note if a sparrow but fall;'hat they're aye flitting near us, around us, above, On missions of kindness, compassion, and love;'hat they're glad when we're happy, disturbed at our tears, Distressed at our weaknesses, failings, and fears; %hat they care for the least of our innocent joys,'hough we're cozened, like children, with trifles and toys; ind can lead us to bloom-beds, and lovely ones too, Vhere snake never harbored, and thorn never grew & 4UTUMN FLOWERS. THE MARINER'S HYMN. LAUNCH thy bark, mariner! Christian, God speed thee! Let loose the rudder-bands; Good angels lead thee! Set thy sails warily, Tempests will come; Steer thy course steadily, Christian, steer home! Look to the weather-bow, Breakers are round thee; Let fall the plummet now, Shallows may ground thee. Reef in the foresail, there! Hold the helm fast! So; let the vessel wear; There swept the blast. AUTUMN FLOWERS. 55 "What of the night, watchman? What of the night?" "Cloudy; all quiet; No land yet; all's right." Be wakeful, be vigilant; Danger may be At an hour when all seemeth Securest to thee. How! gains the leak so fast? Clear out the hold; Hoist up thy merchandise, Heave out thy gold. There! let the ingots go; Now the ship rights, Hurra! the harbor's near! Lo, the red lights! Slacken not sail yet At inlet or island; Straight for the beacon steer, 56 AUTUMN FLOWERS. Straight for the high land; Crowd all tliy canvass on, Cut through the foam; Christian! cast anchor now, Heaven is thy home! THERE IS A TONGUE IN EVERY LEAF." THERE is a tongue in every leaf, A voice in every rill; A voice that speaketh every where, - In flood and fire, through earth and air,A tongue that's never still.'Tis the great Spirit, wide diffused Through every thing we see, That with our spirits communeth Of things mysterious -life and death, Time and eternity. AUTUMN FLOWERS. 57 I see him in the blazing sun; And in the thunder-cloud; I hear him in the mighty roar That rushes through the forest hoar When winds are piping loud. I see him, hear him, every where; In all things, - darkness, light, Silence, and sound; but, most of all, When slumber's dusky curtains fall, At the dead hour of night. Ifeel him in the silent dews By grateful earth betrayed; Ifeel him in the gentle showers, The soft south wind, the breath of flowers, The sunshine and the shade. And yet-ungrateful that I am!I've turned in sullen mood From all these things, whereof He said, 58 AUTUMN FLOWERS. When the great work was finished, That they were "very good "! My sadness on the fairest things Fell like unwholesome dew; The darkness that encompassed me, The gloom I felt so palpably, Mine own dark spirit threw. Yet He was patient, slow to wrath, Though every day provoked By selfish, pining discontent, Acceptance cold, or negligent, And promises revoked. And still the same rich feast was spread For my insensate heart. - Not always so; I woke again, To join creation's rapturous strain; <"0 Lord! how good'hou art " AUTUMN FLOWERS. 5 The clouds drew up, the shadows fled, The glorious sun broke out; And love, and hope, and gratitude, Dispelled that miserable mood Of darkness and of doubt. THE BROKEN BRIDGE. IT was a lovely autumn morn, So indistinctly bright, So many-hued, so misty, clear, So blent the glittering atmosphere, A web of opal light! The morning mist, from the hill top, Sailed off, (a silvery flake,) But still in the under-vale it lay, Where the trees peered out like islands gray, Seen dimly, at the dawn of day, On a waveless, pearly lake 60 AUTUMN FLOWERS. And again, when we reached the woody rise That Boldre church doth crown, The filmy shroud was wafted by, And, rejoicing in his victory, The dazzling sun looked down. We reached the church, a two-mile walk, Just as the bell begun; Only the clerk was stationed there, And one old man with silver hair, Who warmed him in the sun. A gravestone for his seat, one hand On his old staff leaned he; The other fondly dallied With the bright curls of a young head That nestled on his knee The child looked up in the old man's face, Looked up and laughed the while. Methought'twas a beautiful sight to see AUTUMN FLOWERS. 61 The reflected light of its innocent glee, (Like a sunbeam on a withered tree,) In the old man's quiet smile.'hat simple group well harmonized With the surrounding scene;'[he old gray church, with its shadows deep, Where the dead seemed hushed in sounder sleep; And all beyond, where the sun shone bright, Touching the tombstones with golden light, And the graves with emerald green. And a redbreast from the elms hard by His joyous matins sung;'[hat music wild contrasted well With the measured sound of the old church-bell, In the low, square tower that swung.. looked, and listened, and listened still, But word spake never a one; And I started like one awakened 62 AUTUMN FLOWERS. From a trance, when my young companion t "Let's walk till the bell has done." So we turned away by the shady path That winds down the pleasant hill; Leaving the churchyard to the right High up, it brought us soon in sight Of the clear spring, so sparkling bright, That turns old Hayward mill A lovely scene! but not therefore Young Edmund's choice, I doubt; No; rather that with barbed snare, For sport, he oft inveigled there The perch and speckled trout. Stopped was the busy mill-wheel now, Snareless the rippling brook; And up the finny people leaped, As if they knew that danger slept; And Edmund! he had well-nigh wept For lack of line and hook. AUTUMN FLOWERS. 63 c" Look, what a fish! the same, I'll swear, That I hooked yesterday: He's a foot long from head to tail; The fellow tugged like any whale, And broke my line: it's very true, Though you laugh, miss! you always do At every thing 1 say." "Nay, gentle coz! I did but smile; But-was he a foot long?" "Ay, more, a foot and half- near two There, there, there's no convincing you; One might as well to an old shoe Go whistle an old song." "Gramercy, coz! I only asked, In admiration strong." " Ay, but you look at one so queer; 0, that I had my tackle here, You should soon see; well, never fear, I'll have him vet ere long." 64 AUTUMN FLOWERS. "Ay, doubtless; but, dear Edmund! now Be murderous thoughts far hence. This is a day of peace and rest, And should diffuse in every breast Its holy influence." Such desultory chat we held, Still idly sauntering on Towards the old crazy bridge, that led Across the stream by the mill-head; " Heyday!" said I, "'tis gone!" And gone it was; but planks and piles Lay there, a fresh-brought load; And, till a better bridge was made, Flat stones across the brook were laid, So one might pass dryshod. One with firm foot and steady eye, Dryshod might pass the brook; But now, upon the farther side, AUTUMN FLOWERS. 65 A woman and a child we spied, And those slippery stones the woman eyed With vexed and angry look. And the child stood there - a pretty boy; Some seven years old looked he; Limber and lithe as a little fawn; And I marveled Imuch that he sprang not on With a boy's activity. But his head hung down like a dew-bent flowre, And he stood there helplessly; And the woman (an old ill-favored crone) Scowled at him, and said, in a sharp, cross tone "You're always a plague to me!" " What ails you, my little man?" said I; "Such a light, free thing as you Should bound away, like a nimble deer, From stone to stone, and be over here Before one could well count two." 5 O6 AUTUMN FLOWERS. The child looked up. To my dying day, That look will haunt my mind. The woman looked, too, and she tuned her throat. As she answered me, to a softer note, And says she, " The poor thing's blind. HIis father (who's dead) was my sister's son; Last week his mother died, too. He's but a weakly thing, you see; Yet the parish has put him upon me, Who am but ill to do. " And his mother made him more helpless still Than else he might have been; For she nursed him up like a little lamb That in winter's time had lost its dam: Such love was never seen! " To be sure, he was her only one; A helpless thing, you see; So she toiled and toiled to get him bread, AUTUMN FLOWERS. 67 And to keep him neat:'twas her pride, she said. Well,'tis a hard thing, now she's dead, To have him thrown on me. "And now we shall be too late for church, For he can't get over, not he; I thought the old bridge did well enough, But they're always at some altering stuff, Hindering poor folks, like we." I looked about, but from my side Edmund was gone already; And, with the child clasped carefully, Across the stream back bounded he, With firm foot, light and steady. And the woman," said I, " won't you help her too Look, there she waits the while." "Hang her, old cat! if I do," quoth he, " To souse her into the midst'twill be!" For my life I could not but smile. ~8 AAUTUMN FLOWERS. So we left her to cross as best she might, And I turned to the sightless child Ils old white hat was wound about With a rusty crape, and fair curls waved out On a brow divinely mild. And the tears still swam in his large blue eyes, And hung on his sickly cheek Those eyes, with their clouded vacancy, That looked toward, bit not at me, Yet spoke to imy heart more touchingly Than the brightest could ever speak. I took his little hand in mine, ('Twas a delicate, small hand,) And the poor thing soon crept close to me, With a timid familiarity No heart could e'er withstand. By this time the woman had hobbled up; " Ah, Goody! what, safe ashore " AUTUMN FLOWERS. 69 Quoth Edmund, "I knew without help from me You'd paddle across." Askance looked she, But spake not a word; so in comilpany We moved on to church all four But I felt the child's hand, still held in mine, With a shrinking dread compressed; "Do you Jove to go to church? " I said; "Yes," and he hung tdown his little head, "But I love the churchyard best." "The churchyard, my pretty hoy? And why Come, tell ne why, and how." "Because - because "- and the poor thing Sobbed out the words, half whispering, "'Cause mammy is there now." Feelings too deep for utterance Thrilled me a moment's space At last, " My little friend," said 1, "She's gone to live with God on high, In heaven, his dwelling-place. 70 AUTUMN FLOWERS. "And if you're good, and pray to him, And tell the truth alway, And bear all hardships patiently, You'll go there too." " But when? " said ne " Shall I go there to-day?" "Nay, you must wait till God is pleased To call you to his rest." "When will that be? " he asked again. "Perhaps not yet, my child." "0, then I love the churchyard best." And to the churchyard we were come, And close to the church door; And the little hand I held in mine, Still held, loatlr was I to resign; And, from that iiour, the face so mild, And the soft voice of that orphan child, Have launted me evermore. AUTUMN FLOWERS. 71 THE MOTHER'S LAMENT MY child was beautiful and brave - An opening flower of spring! He moulders in a distant grave - A cold, forgotten thing. Forgotten! Ay, by all but me, As e'en the best beloved must be Farewell, farewell, my dearest Methinks't had been a comfort now To have caught his parting breath; Had I been near, from his damp brow To wipe the dews of death; With one long, lingering kiss, to close His eyelids for the last repose. Farewell, farewell, my dearest! I little thought such wish to prove, When, cradled on my breast, 72 AUTUMN FLOWERS. With all a mother's cautious love His sleeping lids I pressed. Alas! alas! his dying head Was pillowed on a colder bed. Farewell, farewell, my dearest! They told me victory's laurels wreathed His youthful temples round; That " victory " from his lips was breathed, The last exulting sound: Cold comfort to a mother's ear, That longed his living voice to hear. Farewell, farewell, my dearest! E'en so thy gallant father died, When thou, poor orphan child! A helpless prattler at my side, My widowed grief beguiled. But now, bereaved of all in thee, What earthly voice shall comfort me? Farewell, farewell, my dearest! AUTUMN FLOWERS. 73 "IT IS NOT DEATII" IT is not Death - it is not Death, From which I shrink with coward fear; It is that I must leave behind All I love here. It is not Wealth- it is not Wealth, That I am loath to leave behind; Small store to me (yet all I crave) Hath fate assigned. It is not Fame -it is not Fame, From which it will le pain to part; Obscure my lot; but mine was still An humble heart. It is not Health- it is not Health, That makes mle fain to linger here For I have languished on in pain This many a year. ~74 AUTUMN FLOWERS. It is not Hope - it is not Hope, From which I cannot turn away; 0, earthly Hope has cheated me This many a day! But there are Friends-but there are Friends, To whom I could not say " Farewell," Without a pang more hard to bear Than tongue can telL But there's a thought -but there's a thought Will arm me with that pang to cope; Thank God! we shall not part like those Who have no hope. And some are gone-and some are goneMethinks they chide ny long delayWith whom, it seemed, my very life Went half away. But we shall meet -but we shall meetWhere parting tears shall never flow; AUTUMN FLOWERS. 75 And, when I think thereon, almost I long to go. The Savior wept- the Savior wept O'er him he loved - corrupting clay! But then He spake the word, and Death Gave up his prey! A little while -a little whileAnd the dark Grave shall yield its trust; Yea, render every atom up Of human dust. What matters then- what matters then - Who earliest lays him down to rest? Nay, "to depart, and be with Christ,' Is surely best. 76 AUTUMN FLOWERS. ON THE NEAR PROSPECT OF LEAVING HOME. 1838. FAREWELL, farewell, beloved home! Haven of rest! a long farewell; Where'er my weary footsteps roam, With thee shall faithful memory dwell. They tell me other bowers will rise As fair, in fancy's future view; They little think what tender ties, Dear home! attach my heart to you! Their happy childhood has not played, Like mine, beneath thy sheltering roof; Thou hast not fostered, in thy shade, Their after years of happier youth. They cannot know, they have not proved, The sympathies that make thee dear; AUTUMN FLOWERS. 77 They have not'ere possessed and loved: They have not lost and sorrowed here. In all around, they cannot see Relics of hopes, and joys o'ercast; They have not learned to live, like me, On recollections of the past. To watch (as misers watch their gold) Tree, shrub, or flower, (frail, precious trust!) Planted and reared in days of old, By hands now mnouldering in the dust; To sanctify peculiar places, Associated in memory's glaos, With circlumstanc, tes, tes and faces, That like a dream before nme pass. These are the feelings, this the hand, Dear Ihome! that knlits mIy heart to thee No heart lmbt mine can Inmldrstamld How strong that secret sympathy 78 AUTUMN FLOWERS. THE LADYE'S BRYDALLE. " COME hither, come hither, my little foot-page! And beare to my gaye Ladye This ringe of the good red gowde, and be sure Rede well what she tellethe to thee. "And take tent, little Page, if my Ladye's cheeke Be with watchinge and weepinge pale; If her locks are unkempt, and her bonnie eyes redde And come backe and telle me thye tale. "And marke, little Page, when thou showest the ringe, If she snatchethe it hastelye, If the red blude mount up her slendere throate To her forehedde of ivorye. "And take good heede if, for gladness or griefe, It chaungethe my Ladye's cheere; AUTUMN FLOWERS. 79 You shalle know by her eyes; if their lichte laugh oute Through the miste of a startlinge teare, C (Like the Summer sunne thro' a morninge cloude,) There needethe no furthere tokenne, That mye Ladye brighte, to her owne true Knighte, Hath keepit her faithe unbrokenne. "Now ride, little Page, for the sunne peeres oute Owre the rimme of the eastern heavenne, And backe thou must bee, with thy tidinges, to mee, Ere the shadow falles far at evenne." Awaye, and awaye! and he's farre on his waye, The little foot-page alreddye; For he's backed on his Lordes own gallante graye, That steede so swift and steddye. But the Knighte stands there like a charmedde manne, 80 AUTUMN FLOWERS. Watchinge, with eare and eye, The clatteringe speede of his noble steede, That swifte as the wiindes doth flye. But the windes and the lichtninges are loitererres alle To the glauice of a luver's mynde; And Sir Alwynne, I trow, had thocht Bonnybelle slowe, Had her fleetnesse outstrippit the winde. Beseemed to him, that the sunne once more Had stayedde his course tlat daye; Never sicke maInne longed for morninge licht As Sir Alwynne for eveninge graye. But the longeste daye must ende at taste, And the lbrigliteste sunne nllst sette; Where stayde Sir Alwynne at peepe of dawns, There at even he stayethe him yette. AUTUMIN FLOWERS. 81 And he spyethe at laste-": Not soe, not soe'Tis a small graye cloude, Sir Knighte, That risethe up, like a courser's hedde, On that borderre of gowden lichte." " Bot harke! bot harke! for I heare it nowe;'Tis the comynge of Bonnybelle! " "Not soe, Sir Knighte; from that rockye height'Twas a clatteringe stone that felle."'That slotlfulle boye but I'll think no more Of him and that lagginge jade to-daye." Righte, righte, Sir Knighte!" " Nay, now, by this lichte, Here cometh my Page and my gallante graye! *Howe nowe, little Page! ere thou lichtest downe, Speake but one worde out hastylye;.Little Page, haste thou seen mye Ladye luve? tRathe mye Ladye keepit her faithe with me " 6 82 AUTUMN FLOWERS. " I've seene thye Ladye luve, Sir Knighte, And welle hathe she keepit her faithe with thee." "Lichte downe, lichte downe, mye trustye Page! A berrye browne barbe shall thy guerdon be. "Telle on, telle on; was mye Ladye's cheeke Pale as the lilye, or rosye redde? Did she put the ringe on her finger smalle? And what was the very firste worde she sedde? Pale was thye Ladye's cheeke, Sir Knighte, Blent with no streake of the rosye redde; I put the ringe on her finger smalle, But there is no voice amongste the dedde." * * * * * There are torches hurryinge to and froe In Raeburne Towerre to-nighte; And the chapelle dothe glowe with lampes alsoe, As if for a brydalle ryte. AUTUMN FLOWERS 83 But where is the Bryde. and the Brydegro'.ime where? And where is the holye Prieste? And where are the guestes that shoulde biddennebe, To partake of the marriage feast? The Bryde from her chamberre descendethe slowe, And the Brydegroome her hand hath ta'en; And the guestes are mette, and the holy Prieste Precedethe the marriage traine. The Bryde is the fayre Mande Winstanlye, And Dethe her stern Brydegroome; And her father followes his onlye childe To her mothere's yawninge tombe. An agedde manne! and a wofulle manne! And a heavye noane makes lie; "Mye chille! mye chile! mine onlye childe! Would God 1 had dyedde for thee! " 84 AUTUMN FLOWERS. An agedde manne, those white haires telle, And that bendeldde back and knee; Yette a stalwart Knighte, at Tewkesburye fighte, Was Sir Archibalde Winstanlye!'Tis a movinge thinge to see the teares Wrunge oute frae an agedde eye, Seldonie and slowve, like the scantye droppes Of a fountaine that's neere a drye.'Tis a sorrye sighte to see graye haires Brocht downe to the grave with sorrowe! Youth lukes thro' the cloide of the presente daye For a goldonne gleame to-morrowe. But the palsyedde hedde, and the feeble knees, Berefte of earthlye staye!. God help thee nowe, old W'instanlye! Gude Christians for thee praye! Bot manye a voice in that burialle traine Breathes gloomily aparte, AUTUMN FLOWERS. 85 " Thou hadst not been childeless nowe, olde manne, BuI for thine owne harde hearte! " And many a mayde, who strewethe floweres Alore the Ladye's biere, Weepes oute, " Thou lhdut not ~4,eae sweet Maude If Alwynne had beene heere!" * * * * * * What solemne chaunte ascendethe slowe What voices peale the straine? The Monkes of St. Switlholn's Abbaye n,.ae Have mette the funeralle traine They hold their landes, full manye a loode, From the Knightes of Raelhtrne Towerre; And everre when Dethe doth claime his preyo From within that lordlye bowerre, Then come the holye Fatheris forthe, The shrowdedde carrse to ineete 86 AUTUMN FLOWERS And see.t laide i;n -. f".'?-.s -,c With requiem sadde and swcete. And nowe they turne, and leade the waye To that laste home so nigh, Where alle the race of Winstanlye In dust and darkness lye. The holye altarre blazethe brighte With waxen taperres high; Elsewhere, in dirnlne and doubtfulle lichte Dothe alle the chapelle lye. Iuge, undefinedde shadowes falle From pillare and from tombe; And manye a grimme olde monuments Lookes ghastelye through the gloome. And many a rustye shirt of maile The eye maye scantlye trace; And crestedde helmette, blacke and barred, That grinnes with sterne grimace. AUTUMN FLOWERS. Bannerre and scutcheon from the walles Wave in the cald nighte aire; Gleames oute their gorgeous heraldrye In the entering torches' glare. For nowe the mourninge companye Beneathe that archedde doore, Beare in the lovelye, lifelesse claye, Shall passe thereoute no moreAnd up the sounlinge aisle ye stile Their solemne chaunte may heare, Tille'neath that blazonned catafalque They gentlye reste the biere. Then ceasethe everye sounde of life; So deepe that awfulle hushe, Ye heare from yon freshe-opennedde -aulte The hollowe deathe-winde rushe. Backe from the biere the mournerres all Retire a little space; 88 AUTUMN FLOWERS. Alle hot that olde bereavedde mannle Who takethe there his place Beside the dedde: but none may see The workinges of his mynde; So lowe upon that sunkenne breste Is that graye hedde declinede. The masse is saide; they raise the dedde; The palle is flunge aside; And soone that coffinned lovelyenesse The darksome pit shalle hide. It gapeth close at hande. Deep downe Ye may the coffinnes see (By the lampe's dull glare, freshe kindledde Of many a Winstanlye. And the gildedde nails on one looke brighte, And the velvette of cramoisie, AUTUMN FLOWERS. 89 She hathe not laine there a calenderre yeere, The laste Dame Winstanlye. "There's roome for thee heere, 0 daughter deere! Methinkes I heare her saye; "There's roome for thee, Maude Winstanlye; Come downe, make no delaye." And, from the vaulte, two grimlye armes Upraised, demaunde the dedde!.. Hark! hark!'tis the tramp of a rushinge steede'Tis the clanke of an armedde tredde! There's an armedde hedde at the chapelle doore; And, in armoure all hedighte, In coal-blacke steele, fron hedde to heele, In steppes an armedde Knighte! And uppe the aisle, with heavy tredde, Alone advauncethe he; To barre his waye dothe none essaye Of the fun'ralle companye. 30 AUTUMN FLOWERS. And never a voice amongst them alle Doth aske who he mote be; Nor why his armedde steppe disturbes That sadde solemnitye. Yette manye an eye, with fixedge stare, Dothe sternelye on him frowne; Bot none may trace the stranger's faceHe weares his vizorre downe. He speakes no worde, hot waves his hande, And straighte theye alle obeye; And ev'rye soule that standethe there Falles backe to make him waye. He passethe on; no hande dothe stirre; His steppe the onlye sounde; He passethe on, and signes them sette The coffinne on the grounde. A momente gazinge downe thereonne, With foldedde armes dothe staye; AUTUMN FLOWERS. 91 Then stooppinge, with one mightye wrench He teares the lidde awaye. Then risethe a confusedde sounde, And some half forwarde starte, And murmurre, "Sacriledge!" And some Bear hastilye aparte The agedde Knighte, at that straunge sighte Whose consciousnesse hathe fledde; Bot signe nor sounde disturbethe him Who gazethe on the dedde. And seemethe sune, as that faire face Dothe alle exposedde lye, As if its holye calme o'erspredde The frowninge faces bye. And nowe, beside the virginne corse Downe kneeles the straunger Knighte, And backe his vizorrede helne he throwes, Bot not in openne sighte; 92 AUTUMN FLOWERS. For to the pale, colde, clammy face, His owne he stoopethe lowe; And kissethe firste the bludelesse cheeke, And then the marble browe. Then, to the dedde lippes gluede, so long The livinge lippes do stay, As if in that sadde silente kisse The soule had paste awaye. Bot suddenne, from that mortal trance, As with a desp'rate straine, Up! up! he springes-his armoure ringesHis vizorre's downe againe. With many a flourre, her weepinge maydes The Ladye's shroude have dressed; And one white rose is in the faulde That veiles her whiterre breste. One gowden ringlette on her browe (Escapedde forthe) dothe straye; AUTUMN FLOWERS. 93 So on a wreathe of driftedde snowe The wintrye sunbeames playe. The mailedde hande hath ta'en the rose From offe that breste so fayre; The faulchion's edge, from that pale hedde, Hath shorne that gowden haire. One heavye sigh! -the first and lastOne deepe and stifleddle groane! A few longe strides, a clange of hoofes, And the armedde stranger's gone t 94 AUTUMN fLOWERS SONNET. 18i8. DARK rolling clouds in wild confusion driven, Obscure the full-orbed moon. In all the heaven, One only star (the appointed evening light) Beams mildly forth; like friendly Pharo bright, That, kindled on some towering summit, streams Wide o'er the ocean-paths. Its far-off beams First seen by him who on the silent deck Paces his lonely watch,-a glimmering speck Doubtful in distance. But his homeward eye Is keen the faithful beacon to descry; And mine, like his, impatient to explore (With friends and kindred thronged) the distant shore, Is fixed on that lone star, whose lovely ray Points to a happier home the heavenward way. AUTUMN FLOWERS 95 SONNET. 1821. STAY, flaming chariot! fiery coursers, stay; Soft gleams of setting sunshine, that doth cast A lustrous line along the dark, wide waste! 0, wherefore must ye fade so swift away? Wherefore, 0 wherefore, at the close of day Shine out so glorious, when night's sable pall Will drop around so soon, and cover all? Beautiful beam! bright traveller! stay, 0, stay And let my spirit on your parting ray Glide from this world of error, doubt, distress, (0, I am weary of its emptiness,) To happier worlds, where there is peace for aye Peace! less abiding here than Noah's dove; When we shall never part from those we love. 96 AUTUMN FLOWERS. GRACIOUS RAIN. THE east wind had whistled for many a day, Sere and wintry, o'er Summer's domain; And the sun, muffled up in a dull robe of gray, Looked sullenly down on the plain. The butterfly folded her wings as if dead, Or awaked ere the full-destined time; Every flower shrank inward, or hung down its head Like a young heart frost-nipped in its prime. I, too, shrank and shivered, and eyed the cold earth, The cold heaven, with comfortless looks; And I listened in vain for the summer bird's mirth, And the music of rain-plenished brooks. But, lo! while I listened, down heavily dropped A few tears from a low-sailing cloud; AUTUMN FLOWERS. 97 Large and few they descended, then thickened, then stopped, Then poured down abundant and loud. O the rapture of beauty, of sweetness, of sound, That succeeded that soft, gracious rain! With laughter and singing tile valleys rang round, And the little hills shouted again. The wind sank away like a sleeping child's breath, The pavilion of cloudswas uwpfurled; And the sun, like a spirit triumiplhant o'er death, Smiled out on this beautiful world. On this "beautiful world'$ such a change had been wrought By these few blessed drops. 0! the same On some cold, stony heart might be worked, too methouglht, Sunk in guilt, but not senseless of shame~ 7 98 AUTUMN FLOWERS. If a few virtuous tears, by the merciful shed, Touched its hardness, perhaps the good grain That was sown there and rooted, though long seeming dead, Might shoot up and flourish again. And the smile of the virtuous, like sunshine from heaven, Might chase the dark clouds of despair; And remorse, when the rock's flinty surface was riven, Might gush out and soften all there. O! to work such a change- by God's grace to recall A poor soul from the death sleep! to this, - To this joy, that the angels partake, - what were all That the worldly and sensual call bliss? AUTUMN FLOWERS. THE WELCOME HOME. 1820. HARK, hark, they're come! those merry bells, That peal their joyous welcome swells; And many hearts are swelling high With more than joy - with ecstasy! And many an eye is straining now Toward that good ship, that sails so slow; And many a look toward the land They cast, upon that deck who stand. Flow, flow, ye tides! ye languid gales, Rise, rise, and fill their flagging sails! Ye tedious moments, fly, begone, And speed the blissful meeting on. Impatient watchers! happy ye, Whose hope shall soon be certainty; Happy, thrice happy! soon to strain Fond hearts to kindred hearts again. 10b AUTUMN FLOWERS. Brot:hers and sisters, children, motherAll, all restored to one another! All, dll returned; and are there none To te restored, returned? Not one. Far other meeting mine must be With friends long lost; far other sea Than thou, 0 restless ocean! flows Between us -one that never knows Ebb-tide or flood; a stagnant sea; Time's gulf; its shore, eternity! No voyager from that shadowy bourn With chart or sounding may return. There, there they stand - the loved! the aot! They beckon from that awful coast! They cannot thence return to me, But I shall go to them. I see E'en now, methinks, those forms so Iear. Bend smiling to invite me there. AUTUMN FLOWERS. 101 O best beloved! a little while, And I obey that beckoning smile.'Tis all my comfort, now, to know In God's good time it shall he so; And yet, in that sweet hope's despite, Sad thoughts oppress my heart to-night. And doth the sight of others' gladness Oppress this selfish heart with sadness? Now Heaven forbid! but tears will rise, Unbidden tears, into mine eyes, When busy thought contrasts with theirs My fate, my feelings. Four brief years Have winged their flight, since where they stand I stood, and watched that parting band, (Then parting hence;) and one, methought, (0 human foresight! set at nought 102 AUTUMN FLOWERS. By God's unfathomed will!) was borne From England, never to return. With saddened heart, I turned to seek Mine own belov6d home; to speak With her who shared it of the fears She also shared in.. It appears But yesterday that thus we spoke; And I can see the very look With which she said, " I do believe Mine eyes have ta'en their last, long leave Of her who has gone hence to-day!" Five months succeeding slipped away; And, on the sixth, a deep-toned bell Swung slow, of recent death to tell. It tolled for her with whom, so late, I reasoned of impending fate; To me those solemn words who spoke So late, with that remembered look I AUTUMN FLOWERS. 103 And now, from that same steeple, swells A joyous peal of merry bells, Her welcome, whose applroaching doom We blindly thought -a foreign tomb THE NIGHT-SMELLING STOCK. COME, look at this plant, with its narrow, pale leaves, And its tall, slim, delicate stem, Thinly studded with flowers! Yes, with flowers! There they are! Don't you see at each joint there's a little brown star? But, in truth, there's no beauty in them. So you ask why I keep it - the little, mean thing; Why I stick it up here, just il sight;'Tis a fancy of mine. "A strange tancy!" you say 104 AUTUMIN FLOWERS. "No accounting for tastes " In this instance you may; For the flower.... But I'll tell you to-night. Some six hours hence, when the lady moon Looks down on that bastioned wall, When the twinkling stars dance silently On the rippling surface of the sea, And the heavy night-dews fall, Then meet me again in this casement niche, On the spot where we're standing now. hay, question not wherefore. Perhaps, with me, To look on the night, and the broad, bright sea, And to hear its majestic flow!. * * * * * Well, we're met here again; and the moonlight sleeps On the sea, and the bastioned wall; AUTUMN FLOWERS. 105 And the flowers there below; how the night-wind brings Their delicious breath on its dewy wings' "But there's one," say you, " sweeter than all! " "Which is it? The myrtle, or jessamine, Or their sovereign lady, the rose? Or the heliotrope? or the virgin's bower?What! neither?" 0, no,'tis some other flower, Far sweeter than either of those. Far sweeter! And where, think you, groweth the plant That exhaleth such perfumes rare? Look about, up and down, but take care! or you'll break, With your elbow, that poor little thing, that's so weak,.... "Why,'tis that smells so sweet, I declare!' Ah ha! is it that? Have you found out, now, Why I cherish that odd little fright? 106 AUTUMN FLOWERS. " All is not gold that glitters," you know; And it is not all worth makes the greatest show In the glare of the strongest light. There are human flowers full many, I trow, As unlovely as that by your side, That a common observer passeth by With a scornful lip, and a careless eye, In the heyday of pleasure and pride. But move one of those to some quiet spot, From the mid-day sun's broad glare, Where domestic peace broods with dove-like wing; And try if the homely, despis6d thing May not yield sweet fragrance there. Or wait till the days of trial come - The dark days of trouble and woe; When they shirk, and shut up, late so bright in the sun; ,AUTUMN FLOWERS. 107 Then turn to the little despis6d one, And see if'twill serve you so. And judge not again at a single glance, Nor pass sentence hastily; There are many good things in this world of ours; Many sweet things and rare! weeds that prove precious flowers Little dreamed of by you or me. MY EVENING FAREWELL, bright sun! mine eyes have watched Thine hour of waning light; And tender twilight! fare thee well; And welcome, star-crowned night! Pale! serious! silent! with deep spell Lulling the heart to rest, 108 AUTUMN FLOWERS. As lulls the mother's low, sweet song, The infant on her breast Mine own beloved hour! -mine own! Sacred to quiet thought, To sacred memories, to calm joys With no false lustre fraught! Mine own beloved hour! for now, Methinks, with gairish day, I shut the world out, and with those Long lost, or far away, The dead, the absent, once again My soul lolds converse free; To such illusions, life! how dull Thy best reality! The vernal nights are chilly yet, And cheerily and bright The hearth still blazes, flashing round Its ruddy, flickering light. AUTUMN FLOWERS. 109 "Bring in the lamp -so - set it there, Just sllow its veiled ray, (Leaving all else in shadowy tone,) Fall on my book- and -stay"Leave my work by me " -Well I love The needle's useful art;'iN unambitious, wormanly, Ana mine's a woman's heart. Not that I ply with sempstress rage, As if for life, or bread; No, sooth to say, unconsciously Slackening the half-drawn thread, From fingers that (as spell-bound) stop, Pointing the needle wrong, Mine eyes toward the open book Itray oft, and tarry long. * Stop, stop! Leave open the glass door Into that winter bower; " 110 AUTUIMN FLOWERS. For soon therein th' uprisen moon Will pour hes silvery shower; Will glitter on those glossy leaves; On that white pavement shine; And dally with her eastern love, That wreathing jessamine. " Thanks, Lizzy! No; there's nothing more Thy loving zeal can do; Only - 0 yes! -that gypsy flower,* Set that beside me too." "That Ethiop, in the China vase? " " Ay; set it here; that's right. Shut the door after you."'Tis done; I'm settled for the night. Settled and snug; and first, as if The fact to ascertain, * The night-smelling *tok. AUTUMN FLOWERS. 11I I glance around, and stir the fire, And trim the lamp again. Then, dusky flower! I stoop t' inhale Thy fragrance. Thou art one That wooeth not the vulgar eye, Nor the broad staring sun: Therefore 1 love thee! (selfish love Such preference may be;) That thou reservest all thy sweets, Coy thing! for night and me. What sound was that? Ah, madam puss! I know that tender mew, That meek white face, those sea-green eyes, Those whiskers, wet with dew, To the gold glass -the greenhouse glass - Pressed closely from without; Well, thou art heard; I'll let thee in, Though skulking home, no doubt 112 AUTUMN FLOWERS. From lawless prowl. Ah, ruthless cat What evil hast thou done? What deeds of rapine, the broad eye Of open day that shun? What! not a feather plucked to-night? Is that what thou wouldst tell With that soft purr, those twinkling eyes, And waving tail? - Well, well, Ikcnow thee,friend! But get thee in; By Ranger stretch and doze; Nay, never growl, old man! her tail Just whisked across thy nose; But'twas no act premeditate, Thy greatness to molest: Then, with that long, luxurious sigh, Sink down again to rest; But not before one loving look Towards me, with that long sigh, AUTU'MN rLOWVt S. 113 Says, "Mistress mine, all's right, all's we.l! Thou'rt there, and here am I!" That point at rest, we're still again; I on my work intent; At least, with poring eyes, thereon In seeming earnest bent; And fingers, nimble at their task, Mechanically true; Tho' Heaven knows where, what scenes, the while My thoughts are travelling to Now far from earth, now over earth, Traversing lands and seas; Now stringing, in a sing-song mood, Such idle rhymes as these; Now dwelling on departed daysAh! that's no lightsome mood; On those to come, no longer now Through hope's bright focus viewed; 8 114 AUTUMN FLOWERS. On that which is-ay, there I pause No more in young delight; But patient, grateful, well assured "Whatever is is right! " And all to be is in His hands; 0, who would take it thence? Give me not up to nine own will, Merciful Providence! Such thoughts, when other thoughts, may be Are darkening into gloom, Come to me like the angel shape, That, standing by the tomb, Cheered those who came to sorrow there; And then I see and bless Iis love in all that he withholds, And all I still possess. So varied,- now with book, or work, Or pensive reverie, AUTUMN FLOWERS. 115 Or waking dreams, or fancy flights, Or scribbling vein, may be, Or eke the pencil's cunning craft, Or lowly-murmured lay To the according viola,Calm evening slips away. The felt-shod hours move swiftly on, Until the stroke of ten (The accustomed signal) summons round My little household. Then, The door unclosing, enters first That aged, faithful friend, Whose prayer is, with her master's child Her blameless days to end. The younger pair come close behind, But her dear hand alone (Her dear old hand! now tremulous;With palsying weakness grown) 116 AUTUMN FLOWERS. Must reverently before me place The sacred book.'Tis there; And all our voices, all our hearts, Unite in solemn prayer; In praise and thanksgiving, for all The blessings of the light; In prayer, that he would keep us through The watches of the night. A simple rite! and soon performed; Leaving, in every breast, A heart mnore fittingly prepared For sweet, untroubled rest. And so we part; but not before, Dear nurse! a kiss from thee Imprints my brow, thy fond good-night To God commending me! Amen! and may his angels keep Their watch around thy bed, AUTUMN FLOWERS. 117 And guard from every hurtful thing Thy venerable head! FAREWELL TO MY FRIENDS. O WEAR no mourning weeds for me, When I am laid i' the ground! 0, shed no tears for one whose sleep Will then be sweet and sound! Only, my friends! do this for me: Pluck many a pale primrose, And strew them on mly shroud, before The coffin-lid they close; And lay the heart's-ease on my breast, (Meet emblem there'twill he,) And gently place in my cold hand A sprig of rosemary; 118 AUTUMN FLOWERS. And by the buried bones of those When living I loved best, See me, at last, laid quietly, Then leave me to my rest; And when the church-bell tolls for me Its last, long, hollow knell, As the deep murmur dies away, Bid me a kind farewell. And, stay; methinks there's something yet I'd fain request of ye; Something I'd bid ye comfort, keep, Or love, for love of me. My nurse! 0, she will only wait Till I am fast asleep, Then close beside me, stealthily, To her own pillow creep. My dog! Poor fellow! Let him not Know hunger, hardship, wrong; AUTUMN FLOWERS. 119 But he is old and feeble too; He will not Imiss me long. My dwelling! That will pass away To those, when I am gone, Will raze the lowly edifice To its foundation-stone. My flowers, that in deep lonelines Have been as friends to me! My garden, that, let run to waste, A common field will be! My picture! That's already yoursResemblance true, ye say: 0, true indeed!-a thing of dust, That vanisheth away! My harp! But that's a fairy gift I can bequeath to none; Unearthly hands will take it back When the last strain is done 120 AUTLUMN FLOWERS. So, then, I've nothing more to ask, And little left to give; And yet I know in your kind hearts My memory will live. And so farewell, my dear good friends And farewell, world, to thee! I part with some in love with all In peace and charity. TIHE PRIMROSE. oAW it in my evening walk, A little lonely flower! Under a hollow bank it grew, Deep in a mossy bower. An oak's gnarled root, to roof the cave WVith G(othic fretwork, sprung, Whence jewe!led fern, and arum leaves, And ivy garlands, hung. AUTUMN FLOWERS. 121 And from beneath came sparkling out, From a fallen tree's old shell, A little rill, that clipped about The lady in her cell. And there, methought, with bashful pride, She seemed to sit, and look On her own maiden loveliness, Pale imaged in the brook No other flower-no rival grew Beside my pensive maid; She dwelt alone, a cloistered nun, In solitude and shade. No sunbeam on that fairy well Darted its dazzling light; Only, methought, some clear, cold star Might tremble there at night. No ruffling wind could reach her there No eye, methought but mine, 122 AUTUMN FLOWERS. Or the young lambs' that came to drink, Had spied her secret shrine. And there was pleasantness to me In such belief. Cold eyes, That slight dear Nature's lowliness, Profane her mysteries. Long time I looked and lingered there, Absorbed in still delight; My spirit drank deep quietness In with that quiet sight. FAREWELL TO GREECE. FAREWELL forever, classic land Of tyrants and of slaves! My homeward path lies far away Over the dark-blue waves; AUTUMN FLOWERS. 123 Whither I go, no marble fanes From myrtle steeps arise, Nor shineth there such fervid suns From such unclouded skies. But yet, the earth of that dear land Is holier earth to me Than thine, immortal Marathon! Or thine, Thermopyle! For there my fathers' ashes rest, And living hearts there be - Warm, living hearts, and loving ones.That still remember me. And 0! the land that welcometh To one such bosom-shrine, Though all beside were ruined, lost, That land would still be mine. Ay, mine! albeit the breath of life Not there I breathed first; 124 AUTUMN FLOWERS. Ay, mine! albeit with barrenness And polar darkness cursed. The bird that wanders all day long, At sunset seeks her nest: I've wandered long; my native land! Now take me to thy rest. THE THREE FRIENDS. STANZAS ACCOMPANYING A PICTURE. WE three were loving friends! A lowly life Of humble peace, obscure content, we led; Stealing away, withouten noise or strife, Like some small streamlet in its mossy bed. We had our joys in common; wisdom, wit, And learned lore, had little share in those: Thus, by the winter fire we used to sit, Or in the summer evening's warm repose, AUTUMN FLOWERS. 125 At our sweet bowery window, opening down To the green grass, beneath the flowering lime, When the deep curfew from the distant town Came mellowed, like tle voice of olden time; And our grave neighbor, from the barn hard by, The great gray owl, sailed out on soundless wings, And the pale stars, like beanls of memory, Brightened as twilight veiled all earthly things.'Twas then we used to sit, as pictured thusMy pillow, as in childhood, still the same, Those venerable knees; and close to us, Old Ranger, pressing oft his jealous claim. And then I loved to feel that gentle hand Laid like a blessing on my head, to hear The " auld warld " stories, ever at command, By all but her forgotten many a year And then we talked together of the days We both remembered; and of those who slept; 126 AUTUMN FLOWERS. And the old dog looked up with wistful gaze, As if he, too, that faithful record kept. We three were loving friends! Now one is gone, And one, poor feeble thing! declineth fast; And well I wot, the days are drawing on Will find me here, the lonely and the last; But not to tarry long; and when I go, The stranger's hand will have dominion here, And lay thy walls, my peaceful dwelling! low As my last lodging in the churchyard near. RANGER'S GRAVE. HE's dead and gone! he's dead and gone! And the lime-tree branches wave, And the daisy blows, And the green grass grows, Upon his grave. AUTUMN FLOWERS. 127 He's dead and gone! he's dead and gone! And he sleeps by tle flowering lime, Where he loved to lie, When the sun was high, In summer time. We've laid him there, for I could not bear His poor old bones to hide In some dark hole, Where rat and mole And blind worms bide. We've laid him there, where the blessed air Disports with the lovely light, And raineth showers Of those sweet flowers So silver white; Where the blackbird sings, and the wild bee's wings Make music all day long. 128 AUTUMN FLOWERS. And the cricket at night (A dusky sprite!) Takes up the song. He loved to lie where his wakeful e]: Could keep me still in sight; Whence a word or a sign, Or a look of mine, Brought him like light. Nor a word nor sign, nor look of mins, From under the lime-tree bough, With bark and bound, And frolic round, Shall bring him now. But he taketh his rest where he love&i best In the days of his life to be, And that place will not Be a coimiimorn spot Of earth to me.