-,^ '.-..,.. -, ,- THE LIBRARY OF THE OF LOS UNIVERSITY CALIFORNIA ANGELES r ART- LIFE AND OTHER POEMS BY BENJAMIN HATHAWAY. Laurel crowns cleave to deserts, And power to him who power exerts. Hast not thy share? On winged feet, Lo ! it rushes thee to meet; And all that Nature made thy own, Floating in air or pent in stone, Will rive the hills and swim the sea, And, like thy shadow, follow thee." Ralph Waldo Emerson. CHICAGO: S. C. GRIGGS & COMPANY. 1878. All hearts the Poet fires are his : The subtle link of mind to mind The link we do not forge and bind, Most precious is ; We mine not make the golden ore, And love, like fabled fairy store, Divided, is not less but more, And true love hath no jealousies. COPYRIGHTED, 1876, BY BKNJAMIN HATHAWAY. PRESS OF DONNELLEY, LOYD & Co., CHICAGO. PS TO MY MOTHER. 759393 Thou type of noblest Womanhood! Thou who in manhood's evil day, As by the couch of infancy, Still faithful stood; Unfaltering, and with purpose strong, Rebuking all the hosts of wrong, With "Lore is more than gift of song," And " Virtue /.s the highest good." Oh would these wildicood flowers for /lice Were robed in lieanty's charm and bloom, Made rich with every rare perfume Of Poesy; With every grace of heart and mind, With Woman in all reverence shrined; In part repaying so in kind A debt as boundless as the sea. CONTENTS. PAGE ART -LIFE . 1 MISSISSIPPI ..... ... 13 VOICES FROM NATURE: SNOW- BlRD ... . . 31 PEBBLES 35 FOUEST HAUNTS . . 38 CHICKADEE 41 WHIPPOORWILI 44 SEA -SHELLS .... ... 4(5 PHEBE .51 KATYDID 54 SUNRISE BY THE SEA 57 THE HAPPY VALLEY . . .... 65 SONGS OF THE SEASONS: SPRING VOICES . . .... 89 SEED-TIME ... 91 A SONG OP MAY . . .... 92 JUNE 94 AUTUMN FLOWERS 9(i PARTING SUMMER 99 ASPHODEL 104 OCTOBER ..... ... 107 AUTUMN . . ... 108 INDIAN SUMMER 113 GARNERED SHEAVES 117 WINTER LAYS 118 BY THE FIRESIDE 128 TANNHAUSER REVISITED . vi CONTENTS. PAGE M ISCELL ANEOUS : SONGS OF THE TOILER 143 151 MINE OWN . IDLE HOURS WAITED FOR .... UNDER THE OAKS UNANSWERED LETTERS 167 COMPENSATIONS "* HOME 172 THE BEAUTIFUL ... 173 MOTHERHOOD .... 178 THE IMAGE -BREAKER , 180 Too LATE ...... -182 HOME FROM THE WAN .... . 185 BELOVED 188 WORK ... 190 CHRISTINE . 191 LITTLE LINNIE . . . . . . 194 THE TIME TO BE ..... 197 COUSIN CAROLINE 201 PARTING FRIENDS . 204 A COMPLAINT 200 HE -EMERGED 208 CENTENNIAL 211 ASPIRATION . . . ... . 216 WEDDED LOVE 218 FORTY YEARS AGO 219 To A WATKK-LILY 226 ART-LIFE. / looked on Genius when his face shone grand With fire of inspiration ; when up -caught And borne afar a being fairer wrought And nobler planned, Of purer clay, by finer instinct taught To fashion Beauty with a cunning hand To "build incarnate an undying Thought. And I so poot the partial Fates deny His larger gift did murmur and repine; Yet mine no less a heritage divine As pure and high; All are true heirs of the Inimortal Nine! I too hare wealth that gold can never buy: I love and lo! all that was his is mine. ART-LIFE. WHAT prophet wide with trumpet tongue is teaching The chained world its thought of Liberty, Till loving hearts go out in meek beseeching And wild unbosomed longing to be free? What stranger truth is new evangel preaching Of Life to be? Diviiiest Art! thou heaven of our aspiring, Wherein our being is in doing blest, And duty is at one with our desiring The radiant goal of all earth's empty quest: The sternest toiling evermore untiring The sweetest rest ! joy supreme! labor un vexed of wages! The equipoise of Good that all things wait; Care that all care, pain that all pain assuages; Bonds that are free the brotherhood of Fate: The Love unpledged that lives through all the ages Inviolate. 2 APT- LIFE. Who shall the Life so beautiful unseal us The life whose labor is a work of bliss? When shall our doing of our doing heal us? Our toiling rest us of our weariness? Thou God within us, to ourselves reveal us In perfectness! A desert -way we wander unavailing; Anear the babbling brook we fainting lie, Or on and on forevermore bewailing Each fading bright oasis seeming nigh: Lead us by living waters never failing, Oh, else we die! With maniac hands, each nobler purpose foiling, We strive to do, yet know not how or why; We come not to our own in all our toiling, We live a falsehood till we love the lie; And, strangers to ourselves, our gifts despoiling, We live and die. Might bread alone appease this deathless yearning, For bread alone to toil were meet and fit; But oh, we feel, however dimly burning Within the soul the fire celestial lit, If Love is not the wages of our earning What profits it? ART -LIFE. Ungenial toil, our meaner wants supplying, Our better life for this its birthright sells; In all our doing we are only dying With quenchless thirsting for Art's living wells: Give us the labor and the self-denying, Genius impels! Genius, that is of Virtue the fair flowering All noble aspirations, true and brave; The deathless love with life immortal dowering Alike the pencilled dream, the poet's stave, The sculptured bust, the chiselled column towering To architrave. All -conquering Genius! where is now thy dwelling? In what fair clime is reared Minerva's home? Whose proudest fanes Time's rudest hand is felling: Immortal Athens 1 beauty - sculptured dome; Thy Coliseum, of Art's triumph telling. Imperial Rome! Where lives the soul in what fair incarnation That woke of old the desert -city's smile? Palmyra, peerless in thy devastation! And hundred - gated Thebes stupendous pile, Girding the waste in awful desolation By sacred Nile! 4 ART- LIFE. Oh, still meseems more vital breath distilling From crumbling dome where alien footstep treads; A haughty glance of nobler being dwelling In stern repose of Ammon's stony lids Of morning Memnon, glory - smitten, thrilling The Pyramids! Beneath thy dust what hoary gods are sleeping Deathless heroes, drunken on lotus balm ! Around whose couch are nameless sphinxes keeping Their hallowed watches, robed in sullen calm; By many a long - forgotten shrine is weeping The desert palm. Oh, day by day, with an intenser yearning, How do we turn with still expectant eyes To greet thy rising day more fair returning, Divinest Art! than lit thy morning rise On Grecian hills, or sunset -halo burning Italia's skies! Perchance our life in light so sweetly tender Has some reflected grandeur faintly caught; To thee these weaker years still turn with wonder, Sublimer age! with inspiration fraught, When Pericles outrayed immortal splendor, And Phidias wrought. ART- LIFE. Alas! how prone the weary years are fleeing In lust of gold, or fame's unquiet quest; With heart and hand in endless disagreeing O'er miscalled duties while in every breast Lives the monition of more beauteous being, In vague unrest. The youth glad hears his better genius calling, Like far-off murmur of unquiet seas; In vain he waits more happy hours befalling Time heartless speeds apace, life's morning flees; Age seals his fiery lip some world - enthralling Demosthenes. And maiden heart, in rarest dream elysian, Would thrill all being with a love -refrain; But Nature's need, and endless improvision Of household care, or oft maternal pain, Swift breaks the spell of each too ardent vision And dreaming vain. How many a soul by world of sorrow shaded, Deep in whose wells the gems of Genius shine How many a hand with weary task o'erladed, But digs the soil or delves the darkened mine That could have wrought, by kindlier fortune aided. A work divine! 6 ART -LIFE. And who may say, whom more of strength embolden Or chance from meaner care some respite win, The happier few if throned in region golden Of radiant Art, afar from strife and din, What forms transcendent, by oblivion holden, There might have been? Oh, ever on untrodden walks ascending To drink from Inspiration's storied well, On heights of song in loftier glory bending. Free of the boundless universe to dwell! Like olden Bard, a life serenely lending To Beauty's spell! To tread with winged feet and heart imperial The hills of morn, with sparry splendors rife; A cloudless realm of loving light aerial, Unwrecked of wrong, ungloomed of pain and strife: High crowned and glorious in a world ethereal Life's dream of Life! Alas! deep thirsting for the wave enchanted No summer prime unseals those limpid springs : Far gazing on the mountain way undaunted, And glad to soar above all meaner things, The longing spirit lags, though vision - haunted, On weaned wings. ART -LIFE. And prone are thousands by the wayside lying: Crushed are their aspirations, but not dead: For some high Art, diviner being, sighing For free, true life, unsoiled of want and dread; Toiling and toiling a vain self-denying For daily bread. With longings vain, and strivings all unaided. No longer beaconed by Hope's lustrous light. In vain they mourn life's fair ideal faded; Their morning sun at noon is set in night; In vain they seek the doing undegraded A life -delight. Yet evermore new aspirations springing Like summer flowers, our winter paths adorn; And, wearing late, the glooming night is bringing Anon the better prophecy of morn; Though still we wait, through ages darkly winging An JEon born When Life shall flow like some wide -rolling river. A far, free, shining course serenely run; To brighten, deepen, broaden on forever, The days of its high destiny begun; When Love and Labor nevermore shall sever Their being one. 8 ART -LIFE. We are the lights on Life's mysterious dial, The radiant stops on Love's celestial horn; High Heaven's orchestra on untutored trial, With harps discordant, dolorous, and forlorn; Or waiting, hushed, like Egypt's stony viol, The flush of morn. Life of Art ! Thou life serene and holy Thou God -ordained balm for every woe! Up wing thy sovereign day that lightens slowly; Unchain each suffering soul that would be true; Whate'er our part, if proud it be or lowly, Give us to do! Oh, once again with medicine and healing Into our hearts on rhythmic measures float; A higher life in nobleness unsealing, Unveiling near Love's ancient heaven remote; For every evil of our flesh revealing The antidote. As mountain pine, in rugged grandeur growing, Finds Nature's fullness in that bleak abode, Or lowly blooms, its inner life outshowing. The humblest flower that decks the meadow sod: So finds the soul in Art's diviner doing Its home in God. ART -LIFE. There limpid springs the Fount of Youth eternal, That many a league our weary feet beguiles; There lie Hesperian fields serene and vernal, Whose magic shore from far receding smiles; Anchored in thee, the evergreen, supernal Enchanted Isles. Therein alone we drink Life's blest oblation; There lives the Real our Ideal brings; Therein we roam an endless recreation Untrodden paths that lie by living springs ; Therein is giving to our aspiration Unfettered wings. Thou final Good! the theme of wisest sages; Beginning, end, and goal of Liberty; The choral hymn that echoes down the ages, The inspiration of all prophecy, The golden days all Poet's song presages The TIME TO BE! Our feeble hands in thee alone are mighty, In thee our triumph in overmastering strife; We turn to thee, as to yon heavens nightly, Far seeming ever with new glories rife; For Art -Love only is the Elixir- Yitae The LIFE OF LIFE! MISSISSIPPI. If aught can lift the Soul to nobler mood From thought and feeling prone, From passion's Laser stcay, life disenthrall Full on the height* enthrone, It is to roam the verdured solitude, Alone, yet not alone; To hark the voices from the silence call, Dear as each household tone; To feel, u-itli future's ampler life i mimed, Free as the free winds bloicn, The heart fall pulsing irith the heart of all One with the Great Unknown. MISSISSIPPI. ALL HAIL ! thou mighty stretch of inland sea, Now for the first unto my sight outlying! No faintly - canvassed imagery of thee. But in thy glory and thy majesty Murmuring immortal harmonies, outvying The troubled ocean in its fitful sighing The tide - disturbing sea. Oft have I wandered in a visioned dream Through radiant summer lands of memories olden; Where rock and hill and vale and wood and stream Far glanced and brightened to the kindling beam Of fairer, sunnier climes, serene and golden ; While heart and thought in mystic band were holden In one long radiant dream. MISSISSIPPI. But peerless thy sublimity of scene: Looming immense, in stern wild grandeur sleeping, Thy hills, far glimmering in the noontide sheen. The headlong rush of eddying floods between Wave - warding cliffs, thy shores high overleaping, With many a legend strange in their dim keeping. Surpass each dream - born scene. Far as the eye can trace I see thy might Of hurrying waters in their seaward flashing; While cleaving yonder deeps of crystal light Ledge high on ledge uprears a dizzy height, Majestic frowning on thy wayward dashing, Chafing the echoing shores with ceaseless lashing And still unwearied might. Thy voiceful murmur hath a cadence deep, That Echo answers from her craggy dwelling; Waked are thy billows from their icy sleep, And madly surging as they rush and leap O'er all the embosomed valley wildly welling; Or fearful and resistless onward - swelling - Unto the waiting deep. MISSISSIPPI. 15 Yet thine the music of the mountain springs The swelling song of myriad rillets blending; Each tiny fount its rippling treasure brings, That far amid the Alleghanies sings; While in the sunset -land, their tribute lending, Are serried, snow - capped, bleak Sierras, sending Their glad eternal springs. And it were joy their shining track to trace Through thousand green savannas to their sources; Fair fenceless fields in Nature's wildest grace Thy countless streams meandering interlace; Still hastening, murmuring, dallying in their courses, Through many a wild where Art's despoiling forces Have left no darkening trace. Charmed with the music of thy lullaby So softly crooning to the Hesper-even, Forgot the anguish of each sundered tie, The wrongs forgotten of the years gone by, The harsher world forgotten and forgiven How might I hear the seraph - song of Heaven In thy soft lullaby! MISSISSIPPI. Blest with some friend of sympathizing breast, Though prone to err, yet loving and forgiving, And taught of sorrow that the sweetest rest, The fullest blessing, is in making blest; That truest balm for .pain is pain - relieving ; Whose thought upreaches to the ever -living All - sympathizing breast, How sweet to dwell apart from care and strife, By grove and stream with inspiration teeming; To hail each day with some new rapture rife. To taste the true sublimity of life In some fair sylvan haunt of Eden - seeming. More beauteous than charms the poet's dreaming. Unvexed with care and strife: Where no rude sound disturbs the tranquil dream. The sacred calm on earth and azure lying; Where mellowed murmurs of each laughing stream That glances wanton in the glittering beam, The wood - bowers wakened to a soft replying. Or hushed as listening to thy farewell sighing All weave enchanted dream. MISSISSIPPI. 17 There, where the gardens of the desert shine. The housewife bee her busy craft is plying, Industrious hoarding till the day's decline From blushing wood - rose and sweet eglantine The luscious stores, her winter wants supplying: Nor rests from toil till Autumn pale is sighing. And dimmed each floweret's shine. There through the quiet of the summer days Rises the mound, the cunning gopher's mining; There undisturbed the tameless bison strays, The wary elk and moose securely graze Are lazily on mossy bank reclining; While the long hours are bright with sun and shining And breath of summer days. Unmeasured leagues, where thy glad fountains rise, The Red Man rears his rude bark -covered dwelling; His simple wants the wonted chase supplies; Nor taught to miss what partial Fate denies, His heart elate with warrior pride is swelling. Unmindful of the prophet - voices telling Of darker days' uprise. 3 MISSISSIPPI. There the young hunter with a boldness rare Roams the deep forest as the day is whiling. To trail the panther to his lonely lair Or thread the mazes of the wily bear Brave deeds alone his every thought beguiling. Such as may win the bright eyes' kindliest smiling Of forest - maiden rare. There too, as deepens the departing da}'. The dark - eyed daughter of the desert, stealing From the home - wigwam silently away. Unchidden wanders in the twilight ray To list confiding unto Love's revealing; While blissful promise, to her sight unsealing. Floods many a coming day. And who shall say if yet her lowly life, So seeming shut in want and degradation, Mid forest wilds, mid scenes of warrior -strife, Through all its changeful years of maid and wife Finds not alone in love the compensation Of every loss; heavenly constellation. Set in the lowliest life! MISSISSIPPI. 19 And thou: what wondrous voices from the Past Do babble to us in thy waves' deploring Of mightiest secrets in oblivion cast! Who shall unseal them from the slumbering vast ? Re-tune thy lyre, some olden strain outpouring, The lore of long -departed days restoring, Thou Spirit of the Past! Weave us some Idyl of the Ages flown! Help thou our reason in its weak divining, To read the record of the years unknown! The site of ancient empires overthrown, The crumbled wall the forest dimly lining, Where bows the cypress to the ivy's twining, Tell of the ages flown. These, the memorials of the days of yore, lieveal the Present to the Past related; A race, a people, that are now no more, Here reared proud temples on thy lonely shore Of strange and uiiremembered art created, To long -forgotten worship consecrated In the far days of yore. l 20 MISSISSIPPI. For thou hast looked on minaret and dome On thronging cities that the earth is hiding: Whose days were numbered ere the infant Rome Had wrought the grandeur of each palace home; Some senior Carthage in her glory priding. Some old imperial Thebes .though unabiding Arch, column, wall, and dome. Some elder Athens of the Astalan, Rites, altars, fanes, all that the worship aided Of Isis, Buddha, or an older than These hoary gods, old as the life of Man; Some ancient Tyre, august and undegraded. By the destroying hand of Time invaded. Pride of the Astalan. 2 Some rare Damascus of the elder world, Prouder than her the Syrian gardens shading; Nineveh, on thy fairer shores impearled; Some Babylon from her foundations hurled, Ere thine, Euphrates, saw her glory fading ; Silently teaching history upbraiding Thine is the elder world. MISSISSIPPI, 21 What time the bison by the gleaming maize, Or o'er the furrowed glebe the share constraining. Through all the loitering sultry summer days, Where now untamed his thousand fellows graze. Bent his strong shagged shoulder uncomplaining. The netted muzzle him alone restraining From the fair -gleaming maize. Where vale and hill and wide -expanding plain And grassy field, unshorn, uncultured lying. To beauty quickened by the sun and rain. Waved golden billowed with the ripened grain; While busy swains, the frugal sickle plying, With cheerful song to cheerful song replying. Enchanted all the plain. When as the day wore tranquil to its close. The hour of labor with the daylight ending, From sylvan homes of undisturbed repose Th- vesper hymn in thankfulness arose From loving hearts in one communion blending: A truthful life of true affection lending Light to its final close. 22 MISSISSIPPI. Long peaceful years in peasant - labor led, No bloody deeds its simple joys degrading: A guileless race in rural freedom bred. Unskilled in arts that fill the earth with dread. Its pleasant places with a fearful shading: No thirst for gain or selfish aim invading The simple life they led. All. all have vanished from the earth away. And none are left their tragic end declaring: If swiftly blotted from the face of day, Of war. of famine, pestilence the prey, If haply wrought to deeds of fearless daring They nobly bled, unconquered. undespairing, Till life had ebbed awav. The tierce and warlike Hunter -tribes arose The wandering lost of Israel's bewailing: If thickly compassed with barbaric foes, To warrior arm must warrior arm oppose; The earth -built barriers were unavailing: No tree -born race survives, its freedom failing, Where its free altars rose. MISSISSIPPI. 23 And long unnumbered centuries have flown; Arch. dome, and wall have yielded to their grading: Where on the plain the smiling cities shone A dense and rugged wilderness has grown; The altar -mound the ancient oak is shading; Each lingering trace is darkly dim and fading, And soon shall all be flown. * * * But oh. what vision of the Golden Year. As from their trance thy slumbering billows started ! To see across the solitudes austere Adventurous bark thy regal empire near A stalwart band, rude -girt yet fearless - hearted ; The kindling dawn the misty night -gloom parted Dawn of the Golden Year: When he. the knight with snowy locks, but still His fiery heart with youthful ardor burning. Sought on thy Gulf's far shores the mystic rill. The legend - promised Fount whose springs distil Perpetual Youth, its vernal bloom returning: He came he went with disappointment yearning. His white locks whiter still. 3 24 MISSISSIPPI. And he, grim seeker, further on his quest The Fount of Youth, of Eldorado dreaming, Glad hailed thee. sinking on thy banks to rest: Though life was ebbing in his aged breast, Full with exultant joy his great heart teeming "Behold, more rich than treasured Ophir gleaming. The objects of our quest!" 4 As though transported to thy farthest shore. In rarer light, his mortal vision failing. He gazed in wonder on each hidden store: On wealth immeasured of the glittering ore. These later years to outer sight unveiling : And heard the hosts of tramping miners trailing To-day thy farthest shore. But he too sought the hidden spot in vain; His comrades left him to thy billows' caring: Then mournful turning from that task of pain. With thoughts that whispered of their native Spain. Of dark eyes Aveeping, of Love's long despairing, Went sorrowing on; but saddened memories bearing Of that wild vision vain. MISSISSIPPI. 25 Wild vision vain ? that was prophetic dream : The meaner typo of man's prophetic yearning; And here by thee, De Soto's mighty stream, Shall yet the long -sought Eldorado gleam; Where all shall find, the Grolden Days returning. The truest wealth; the deeper import learning Of that wild fabled dream. Through radiant vistas of the coining time I see the glories of the Future's bringing, Fair as the promise of Creation's prime; The prophet voice of poet -seer sublime Still cheers our aspirations lowly springing: The fleeing years are through swift circles winging Unto the Better Time; When gentle deeds shall bless an ampler day; Whose rising beam, a rayless night succeeding. 1 "lushes with rosy dawn the twilight gray; When life shall kindle with serener ray, And Art and Science, in their upward leading. And Genius, on her starry pathway speeding. Shall bless the risen day. MISSISSIPPI. Though thrice a hundred leagues of Silent Lund - Or but thy voice the solitudes beguiling Stretch far away to where sublimely stand The cloud-girt snow-capped mountains lone and grand. Erelong in noontide beam of Freedom smiling Shall cities of a free - born nation's piling Fill all the Silent Land. On all is change the mystic change of life. The breath divine forever all things freeing; The world is girded for its progress - strife : The lonely desert with its voice is rife The solitary place afar is fleeing : The Form is changeful, as the Soul of Being Ascends to higher life. Though changing, still unchanged forevermoiv In thy vast cycles, boundless and unending, Still onward do thy billows ceaseless pour, While empires bloom and fade along thy shore, Till nobler dust with meaner dust is blending; From age to age thy anthem -song ascending Rings out forevermore. NOTES. 1. -This ancient race seems to have occupied nearly the whole basin oi the Mississippi and its tributaries, with the fertile plains along the Gulf, and their settlements were continued across the Uio Grande into Mexico." Baldwin'* Ancient America, p. 32. 2. "The people inhabiting the Vale of Mexico at the time the Spaniards overrun that country, were called Astecks having come from the North, from a country they called Astalan; literally, a country of much water." See Hmnboldt'g Researches in South America. 3. Juan Ponce de Leon. In the IHth century, this enthusiastic adventurer visited a portion of the continent lying on the Gulf, while in command of an expedition fitted out by himself, for discovering the Fountain of Youth, which was thought by the natives of Porto Rico to exist in one of the Lncayo Isles. Its virtues were such that all who bathed in its waters would be restored to the bloom of youth. See liuberlson'x Hiftory of Ann //'/!rlt's iloirer Are all of the Immortal Soul . 38 Thine is ;i minstrel throat That charms with song the love - delighted days. Thrilling the silence of each cave and grot: Wake, of remembered lays. One joy - inspiring note! Oh, but to enter in Thy fairer world! to see. We know not what though knowing all is fair, Whatever be, As the transcendent air Of heaven to souls that win Release from mortal ills: no tired brain O'er unsolved mysteries, no battle -din. No tears, no loved in vain, No loss, no might-have-been. What deeper sight is thine, With what a soul possessed. Thou pretty pinch of clay thou sturdy, bold Evangelist, Preacher of gospel old ! Had I the subtle, fine Ethereal blood that thrills thy radiant dust Had such unstudied art this harp of mine. Thy simple love and trust All human hearts should shrine. 34 SHOW -BIRD. Ah me! if cognizant Of all thy little needs Is One, with tender breast to pity stirred. Who loves and feeds Even thee, my lowly bird, That Winter cannot daunt: An Eye that sees, a Hand that holds and guides Thy devious flight across a continent. And evermore provides, Forecasting ever}' want: Is it less provident Of thee the care divine ? Less worthy thou of the benignant heed. heart of mine. Ln this thy human need? Love's shining battlement Leans evermore above Time's clouded strand: See in all loss, all wrong, all accident. A loving Father's hand. ' And seeing, be content. PEBBLES. ALONG the sea lies Summer's purple sheen; The drowsy waves low lapse, with fond caress. On amber sands; in fading light serene. All purposeless I wander where wide leagues of vernal green And blue seas loving kiss. Beneath my feet uncounted pebbles gride, Strewn with unstinted hand on all the shore; Some mighty Titan, rising from the tide, Them hither bore Up from earth's hidden workshop caverns wide Up from her granite floor. Sandstone and flint from many a rocky trave, Chips from the walls of dark Devonian keeps; All glomerates from caves where Ocean's wave Untroubled sleeps; Schist, schale, and limestone, from the flags that pave The old Silurian deeps. 36 PEBBLES. Hornblende and mica from the tidal locks Down to whose depths 110 plummet line may go; Porphyry and feldspar from earth's primal rocks Here pale and glow; Gneiss and basalt from the unquarried blocks Of her foundations low. Quartz, trap, and slate, from many a dyke and turn Deep in the cosmic mines; unsoiled of fame, Agate and jasper from each billowy urn With rocks that came Up from the vaults where ever seethe and burn Red seas of quenchless flame. God's alphabet, could we interpret it Aright, are ye ; ye are entraced as if In monograph, in bits of mountain grit And rocky cliff Creation's book, in mystic cypher writ, In Nature's hieroglyph. Could we but read its vast similitudes, The wisdom of its ancient pages con, Life's morning hymn through all its interludes Still sounding on, How might we hear see, where but darkness broods. Light of a higher sun ! PEBBT.ES. 6 ( To mighty secrets ye do hold the key; Could ye but tell by what convulsions torn, All ye have seen of change while ages flee And worlds are born, Here chafed and washed by the incessant sea, To forms of beauty worn. Oh for the gift, the lore to understand! Yet what am I ? through elemental strife Upborne as ye up from what hidden land With wonder rife? A pebble, thrown upon life's stormy strand, Broke from the Prime of Life. But ye are mute, howbeit, mute to me; Though all too long I vain your silence mourn. Hear but the homeless moaning of the sea On shores forlorn, Or vaguely dream of beauty yet to be In some untravelled bourn: Enough to know, around me not in vain The troubled tides of Being darkly press: Grief, care. want, hope deferred, love's ache and strain, The passions' stress: So grows the soul immortal, wrought through pain Into all comeliness. FOREST HAUNTS. YE OLDEN oaks, deep clad in greenness vernal, With Summer's sunlight on your rugged brows. Methinks I hear the voice of the Eternal Go out amid the swaying of your houghs. Oh, not the mythic fear -inspiring Monarch That but with dread our doubting thoughts invest. But He who bears above Wrong's throned Anarch Earth's sorrowing children on his loving breast. And oft unto your solemn shades retiring Of temple, altar, shrine, my heart to him Has poured the burden of its high aspiring In measured cadence through your cloisters dim. As wayward child, touched by some anguished arrow From the full quiver of the coming years, On mother's breast unbosoms wild its sorrow, While loving kisses dry the brimming tears; FOREST HAUNTS. 39 So turn I. yearning for your dear caressing; World - worn and weary do I come again To win some measure of maternal blessing. If but a brief forgetfulness of pain. From Life's fierce conflict, from its toil unending Awhile to rest me where no care intrudes. And feel my soul in quickened pulses blending With kindred souls that dwell in solitudes: To lowly listen to the mystic voices That through your boundless sanctuaries ring. And feel, while Nature in her heart rejoices, Some thrill of rapture in my own upspring. The mossy bank wears meek a smile of blessing; There lives a gladness in each floral bell. A spirit -healing in the mild caressing Of balm}' zephyrs in the woodland dell. And hark ! a thousand tiny throats are winging Joy's silvery songs amid the murmuring trees; happy choir! a choral anthem singing - The blended music of the birds and bees. 41) h'OKEHT HAUNTS. 'Fhese shall restore me to the pure and tender Of feelings sullied in embittered strife; Some faint ray kindle of Hope's morning splendor, That shed a halo on each dream of life. gentle Spirit that afar is hiding In unfrequented wilds of wood and glen, Couldst thou as in these tranquil haunts abiding Dwell in the homes and in the hearts of men, 1 had not need to medicine this longing With calm and quiet in }*our green retreat : Life s stony paths, with weary pilgrims thronging. Were fair and flowery to these bleeding feet. CHICKADEE. WHAT time the Oriole Through verdured haunts by spicy breezes fanned Pours his full soul, Far off in tropic land, In wildest minstrelsy, If not so glad and gay, Here in December woods, as blithe and free, 1 hear thy gleeful note the livelong day My Chickadee! Is all this storm and gloam Of Winter vain to chill thy heart of song? Dost never roam With the proud minstrel throng To climes beyond the sea? \Y hat secret dost thou hold ? Is in thy breast the wondrous alchemy, Transmuting all these leaden skies to gold My Chickadee? 42 CHICKADEE. Oh, for the subtle art To share thy life, unsoiled of strife and din; A life apart We may not enter in A realm of mystery! Yet, though we may not cross Its hidden bound, we feel it cannot be A vreary world of ill and pain and loss My Chickadee! Within thine eye so bright No shadow lies of care or want or dread: There shines a light More than of summers dead Or summers yet to be: Like to the morning glow On Eden hills serene; say, canst thou see The fairer world behind this fading show My Chickadee? Is thine the vision rare To pierce the gloom that hides the heavenly bourn Where all is fair? The hidden land we mourn Unsorrowed dost than see? CHICKADEE. 43 Then at thy cheerful stave I marvel not, indeed, nor how it be Thy tiny breast can bear a heart so brave My Chickadee! Oh, what a joyous song Above this gloom and darkness would I pour How free and strong This weary heart would soar, That Morning Land to see! Where blight and storm and frost And grief and pain and parting may not be; Where glorified do wait our loved and lost My Chickadee! Sole friend the Summer hides That does not flee when summer hours are fled ; That still abides When vernal blooms are dead O'er hill and vale and lea; Oh, when the roundelays Of rarer throats are hushed, still keep for me Some breath of song to cheer life's darker days Mv WHIPPOORWTLL. LONELY Night-bird from across the main. That oft hath soothed me with a plaintive hymn ! Once more the music of thy sad refrain Wakes the deep cloisters of the greenwood dim; From out the twilight's still repose I hear Lorn Echo answering to thy sober song, A note, though mournful, to my heart moi'e dear Than gayer numbers of the minstrel throng. Oft when the piping of thy ceaseless plaint Rings out at even from the dusky wild, Outsoaring all, time, tears, and sorrow -taint. I roam, a happy simple-hearted child; 1 lightly wander on the hills away, Or careless loiter by the meadow streams. To pluck sweet garlands from the blushing May, The hours all golden with enchanted dreams. WHIPPOOBWILL. 45 T hear once more the voices of my youth. The mystic voices that have long been hushed; I dream again the dreams of love and truth. Again am happy in all hope and trust: Oh, still as glad as in the vanished Spring My heart would tremble to some olden thrill. If tliou wouldst sing me as thou erst didst sing Thy mournful vesper by my window-sill. Why dost thou linger in the far-off land When the gay songsters of the wood are here? What leafy bowers by Spring's warm zephyrs fanned Make but a long glad Summer of thy year? Dost seek green haunts where shadows of the palm Shut ever out the noontide's fiercer reign. Mid spicy groves all prodigal of balm That breathe a fragrance on the Indian Main? Oh. could I journey with thy pinions fleet Swift wing with thee to far-off Southern Isles! From saddened memories free, what joy to greet Each scene of beauty that thy wing beguiles; There might I find hid in the wild afar Some spot untrodden by the feet of Care; Where Love miglit linger \vith no ill to mar. No grief to darken, and no wrong to bear. SEA-SHELLS. jm'ELLERS in the deeps. Up from the caves of Ocean hither borne! Like to the soul that keeps Forevermore, though in a realm forlorn. All memories Of fore-known love and joy ye sigh and mourn And wail for the unfathomable seas. I low mine ear incline: Within your convolutions sway and swash All voices of the brine; L hear on barren reefs the surges dash. The breakers roar; The homeless billows fret and foam and wash. And die far off upon an alien shore. SEA-SHELLS. 47 And ye do more complain. When angry tides with Wintry tempests toss, Of ill and wrong and pain; Like heart new sorrowed at some olden, loss, Ye moan and sigh As ye were sore a wounded albatross, Or ye would feign the stormy petrel's cry. From archipelagoes That lave the sands of Indra, and the isles Of palm, where nightly glows The sea with a translucent splendor smiles In flash and foam On shores Australian over all the miles To ve come visions of a long -lost home: Telling of all things fair Of beauty blooming in the depths below; Of coral gardens rare Where sea -bells, sea -pinks, and sea -roses blow Where twinkle fine The lamp - auricules ; where sea - pens glow, And sea - anemones and star -fish shine. 48 fiE A -SHELLS. Where to the floor of rock The limpet clings; where periwinkles hide From the rude billows' shock: Where pearly nautilus from prow of pride Strikes his frail oars, Or argonaut gay sails the tranquil tide, Or far below his painted shallop moors. Down where the diver bold Takes his lone way, all gems of ocean are: What marvels yet untold ! Cones, wattles, volutes, helmets, nerites. rare Wonders of God's Sea - world ! harps, tiaras, ear - shells fair. With all your kindred of the caverned floods. There in your home with these Again to be. ye grieve incessantly ; What deathless sympathies. Outreaching mortal pain! what subtle tie. Unsundered, though The springs that feed the briny wells go dry. And mountains flee, and suns wax pale and * SEA - SHELLS. 49 Though uninterpreted, What tongue of prophecy, what mystic tone. What voice as from the dead; What intimation of a world unknown A rarer sphere Transcending all the still uncharted zone That vain we seek, so far and yet so near! Though all things fade apace. Do fade and fall, they pass not utterly; Within your jasper vase There lingers still a tone, a mystery,-- A something hides Of glory fled, of love that cannot die: All Life that ever was somewhere abides. weary waiting soul ! Thou art not in thy loneliness alone; Wherever billows roll. Or sunlight falls, or pilgrim night -winds moan On desert sand, iSome spirit wanders, yearning for its own. And unforgotten far-off Fatherland. 50 SEA - SHELLS. exiled from the sea. That homesick wander from your kin and clime ! What am I more than ye? Like ye, Life's foregone heritage sublime I wait and weep: A polyp, fainting on the shores of Time. Vain longing for the illimitable deep. PHEBE. LAST MORN, while wrapped in dreamy doze. There came or so it seemed to me The once familiar voice and free Of one L may no longer see; Yet ere I might, as glad I rose. With greetings tit. my door unclose. Came answer from the porch, u Phe-be.' As wakes some long - forgotten word Far heard in childhood's Eden clime. Or softly pealing Sabbath - chime That makes the parted years sublime, Though but by inmost spirit heard, So canie thy note, thou lowly bird, Across the barren moors of Time. 52 PHEBE. Companion dear of Summers dead. Spring's earliest herald, winged and fleet: Though not the friend T yearned to greet, No less I give thee welcome meet, Nor mourn the fairer vision fled; For of these lesser joys is fed The hope that waits a joy complete. Thanks that my weaker care is chid; In blithesome scorn of sleet and snow [ had not thought to meet thee so, Before the April violets blow: But good and ill alike are hid: Our happiness comes all unbid. And takes unchartered wings to go. What compass guides thy airy quest Far over seas that storm and gloam ? What longings prompt thy wing to roam? What yearnings to thy bosom come To seek the dear remembered nest ? What heart is in that tiny breast. So human in its love of home-' PHERK. 63 ( )h sing, oh sing me once again Thy homely ''Phe-be v tenderly; Nor let thy note, erst warbled free. Less joyous wake, that unto me It bears an undertone of pain A vanished Winter's sad refrain Blent with the Summer's minstrels}-. Soon shall thy lays, as oft of old, Sweet lullabies in matron tongue To dewy morns be softly sung; With fragrance - laden roses hung, Thy old-time nest, now hushed and cold. Shall new love's priceless treasures hold He clamorous with thy callow young. Oh for thy free unsorrowed wing To ilee these wintry haunts of pain! Alas, it were but journeying vain: No Summers from the spicy main ..lay t:> our fainting spirits bring /he breath of unforgotten Spring Our broken households build again. KATYDID. ERE the sumachs crimson turning Or the upland maples burning Show a faintest tint of red; While the primrose still is glowing And the faded paiisies sowing Seed for other seasons 1 blowing, Wakes thy piping, Katydid. Through the dusky twilight falling Do I hear thee lonesome calling, In thy grassy covert hid; Of the minstrels of the Summer Droning, dolorous, latest comer, Autumn 's curliest herald -drummer Art thou, mournful Katydid. KATYDTD. 55 Sadly fulls thy ceaseless sighing On the heart where hope is dying, On the heart where love is dead; Like an endless wail of sorrow, Plaint of grief that may not borrow Solace from the coming morrow- Solemn - trilling Katydid. Ever till onr life be ended, With the higher life inblended, From all darkened memories hid, But to hear thy harp at even, As in days to sorrow given Shall our hearts be newly riven; Still to mind us, Katydid. Of the watching, wan and weary, Through the long hours sad and dreary. Tearful eye and sleepless lid; Watching orbs beloved, failing- Like the Star of Morning, paling, Listening dear lips' fevered wailing, And thy moaning. Katydid. 56 KATYDID. Watching by the darkened river, Slowly ebbing, ebbing ever, Through the midnight dim and dread, Feet of loved ones, fair as fleeting, From the shores of Time retreating, Harkening to our own heart -beating, And thy joyless "Katydid." Weary, woful, prayerful, tearful, Waiting sad the moment fearful Knowing our beloved dead; In Death's awful shadow lying, Reft, despairing, anguished, dying, Oh, how cheerless conies thy sighing To the love-lorn, Katydid! Me alas ! the song ye sing me Doth such mournful memories bring me Of the days to sorrow wed, Olden loss doth new bereave me, Olden griefs new deeply grieve me; Hush thy requiem -chant, and leave me Unto Silence, Katydid. To GREET the rising day The waiting sea puts all her glory on: The slow departing shadows, dim and gray, More pale and wan, Far to their gloomy caverns hurrying flee; As thousand tongues in voiceless melody Sing "Hail thou morning sun!' 1 Porphyry, amethyst. Jasper and ruby in one brightness blent. Gay banners paint for Nature's royalest Hierophant; The weary winds a little space do rest, While faint and far pulses the billows' breast- Throbbing in deep content. SUNKISE BY THE SKA. Out of the shining wave, Slo\v mounting thence, robed in empurpled gold, Comes forth the King of Day lingers to lave That brow so old And yet so young, in the translucent tide; Lingers like bridegroom by the willing bride, When loving arms enfold. Yet why so late to flee? Some message for the loved ones far below-' Some parting kiss for one we niH} r not see? Bright rising, lo! Up from the deep, robed in immortal charms, A rarer orb, clasped in thy mighty arms, As loth to let thee go. Forgetting love's disguise In love's entrance, lord of Potentates ! Low 011 the tide that peerless crescent lies: Than on thee waits A fairer queen and consort may not be. Fairer than Venus rising from the sea. Parting the pearly gates. SUNR1SK HY THE SEA. 59 "One moment more !" and still "One moment more, oh yet my love delay! I hear, or so meseems: oh for the thrill. The rapture aye The full impassioned madness of that hlitss That never, far - uprising, shalt thou miss, Climbing the hills of Day! *' One moment more ! " ah me ! How vain to paint love's pare ecstatic glow Supern, that only the immortals see That mortals know As the lorn beggar riches; as lost soul Knows heavenly peace, that hears despairing toll "Down to the depths below!" " Oh, still one moment more!" Yet while I list, loosed are the arms that twine; The vision fades, as through some open door A face divine Looks on us and is gone; the sun straightway Climbs high the regal heavens, and leads the day With a serener shine. 60 SUNRISE BY THE SEA. And higher still, and higher; Still unto heights all meaner heights above, Let evermore thy kindling feet aspire, Thou mighty Jove! A mightier than he of mythic fame, Swift bearing wide the torch and oriflamme Of an undying love. Down in the purple deep How unto one the long liours lightly wing, Who there for thee love's tryst doth nightly keep; Oh, who may bring Up thence some hint of her transcendent bliss, As brooding glad that last embrace and kiss Of thee, her lord and king?- Thou that dost make the day, If at love's threshold dear thou stoop st to claim One parting kiss, though long thy steps delay, I may not blame; Nor will I doubt thy fires eternal burn, Now that my eyes have seen the hidden urn Of all their quenchless flame. SUNRISE BY THE SEA. 61 Still onward speed apace ! I may not marvel more, mighty sun, Thou never tir'st -.wading the deeps of space Till day is done; Remembering so the fairer orb that waits To greet thee at the bright Hesperian Gates, When thy far race is run. NOTE. The preceding poem was suggested by a phenomenon as rare as it is remarkable witnessed by the writer in 1871, upon the shore of Lake Michigan; when by some mirage or optical illusion, the- sun, as it rose from the lake, appeared attended by a consort or duplicate orb. THE H^PPY VALLEY. The World we behold is the Shadow of Life; All things are of Being the outirard impress; ,sV/x a Sphinx Ity each path that ire tread ; If Ufa a true Sibyl one riddle //< f/m-xx, Still erer within, with the Infinite rife, Ift there hidden n KIT ret unread. t And meaning the inmost the truest mat/ lie To the mind and the heart if outirardly n-rougtn Is of Truth hut a sjtcctrr mid n-raith ; The type can hut symbol the in/io/riin/ fixing lit ; Each soul, as it needs, to Its oini finds thr /,v // And true Lore is the key to fnif Faith. THE HAPPY VALLEY. AN ALLEGORY. EEEWHILE when these hills that slope gentle and fail- Were mountains so high they seemed lightly to bear The sky in their rocky embrace; When all the year long in its beaut}' unrolled The meadow its green, wore the harvest its gold, The Summer its glory and grace; Then eyes they were clear, for the world it was new, And ever the marvellous stories were true That cannot be wholly forgot; Then silver and gold, though they never were found In treasures uncounted were hid in the ground, And dragons watched over the spot. In river and wood dwelt sylphs, naiads, and fays, Were everywhere seen in those wonderful days Though tied is the Faery race; And who in this world is so spotless and good To blame the sweet tenants of river and wood For hiding: each beautiful face? fit) T1IK HAPPY VALLEY. At eve, all the far- lapsing billows along The mermaiden sang, and so charmed a song That hushed was each murmuring wave; And who harkened that dangerous minstrelsy Went with her, alas! to her home in the sea To her home in a coral cave. Then every maid Avas a shepherdess bold, Yet gentle as was gentlest. lamb in her fold; So learned in Love's magical art She could marry a prince whenever she would. With a boundless estate, and noble and good. And reign a proud queen of the heart. In those marvellous days that all wonder enfold. Bright days that illumine each legend of old As sundown the westering main. Far on the blue seas loomed with wave -warded strand A mountain - girt, summer- clad, love- guarded land. [Tndarkened of discord and pain. Though where may be hidden the Beautiful Vale Where care is unknown, where no sorrows assail, If isled on wide oceans afar, i know not ; perchance it lies under the sea Twice ten thousand fathoms: though still it may be Where gates of the Morning unbar. THE HAI'I'Y VALLHY. 67 Howbeit though shut from the wide world apart. There prodigal Nature with kindliest art Her gifts in such affluence poured. That looking auear on each scene of delight You had thought it an Eden unsorrowed of blight Or to its lost beauty restored. The hillside was gay with the citron and clove, The olive tree grew with the fig in the grove, The orange o'erburdened with scent; The evening -born zephyr winged faint with perfume, The orchard boughs reddened, adight with new bloom, As low with ripe fruitage they bent. By emerald sands, amid islands of calm. Its shimmering track overshadowed with palm, A river meandering went; Went limpid and clear through the meadows along, Went dallying, singing a lullaby song A murmur and song of content. Free wandered the flocks, with their fleeces of snow As white as the storm -girded Winter might show Aloft in his silvery tent, To new -springing pastures so luscious and green, Or gaily anon might be frolicking seen As on to the mountains they went. 68 THE HAPPY VA.LLEY. Thence sweetly their bleating like music would tall. As homeward they came at each shepherdess' call. When twilight its shadows had cast; Where yielding their milk - bearing udders, they lent The joy -waiting cottager's home of content The evening's delicious repast. Where hearts all untainted of passion and strife Grrew guilelessly up in love's summering life. That brightened from portal to roof Each sylvan - wrought home, unadorned and plain. From pleasures that leave in the bosom a stain And vainer illusions aloof. Whence forth at the morn, ever joyous and gay, Went maidens and youths to the harvest away Where golden it gleamed in the sun; Or charmed the glad twilight with love -breathing lutt Or lingered to dance to the tymbal and flute. When the day with its labors was done. May love so illumine the homeliest cot, So charmed with content be the lowliest lot. That sorrow may never assail? And was the true secret of happiness known Lost secret, alas! to that people alone Who dwelt in the Beautiful Vale? THE HAPPY VALLEY. 69 I know not: Lost Land, on far tropical sea Haply shining serene, if only in thee, Still lit with affections unchanged, Are thresholds so bright that no shadows may cross. Are hearthstones undarkened with anguish and loss Where lovers are never estranged. And well you had doubted, one home to have seen, Where joy ever wore its perennial green, If Heaven has happier ones; So rich without pride, without envy or blame. So rich in the truest wealth woman may claim The treasure of beautiful sons. Nor alone in the sunlight of motherly eyes: For maidens, though hooded in maiden disguise, Looked on them with partialest joy; On Jehan the husbandman valiant and bold, On Clarence the dreamer, that tended the fold. And Reuben the studious boy. So tranquil the skies were that over them bent. They nigh unto manhood had journeyed content. Nor tasted of pleasures unmeet; Still slumbered desire in each peace .-tented breast Desire that might waken the wish and unrest To stray from that charmed retreat. 70 THE HAPPY V ALLEY. That world all unknown was it sombre and dread, That wide from that rock - builded barrier spread. Or sunny and mossy and green, With mountains and valleys, and peopled with men? None ever had passed, thence returning again, To tell of each wonderful scene. A perilous way to him journeying there; For lo ! by the path that his footsteps must dare, A cleft where a mountain had stood, A fiery Dragon, by night and by day, A fiery Dragon stood guarding the way Stood belching a fiery flood. And he that would venture that Valley beyond Must a talisman bear a magical wand The truly wise only ma} T gain; While he that would pass, said a prophet of old. Unlearned in the secret, though fearless and bold. Would sure by that Dragon be slain. And why should there come to the dream-haunted heart The wish from that beautiful home to depart. Untroubled of sorrow or care? And where in the wide world without and unknown Were youths that to manlier stature had grown. Or maidens more gentle and fair? THE HAPPY VALLEY. 71 Yet had we the wings that could cleave the broad blue, The pinions of Morning, and though it were true We dwelt in an Eden of bliss, How swift would we climb the bright ether afar. If only to see if yon tiniest star A world is, and fairer than this. For deep in the soul the aspiring abides To question each secret in Nature that hides Forever for knowledge athirst. Not Heaven alone would it fearless explore, But dauntless would tread the Plutonian Shore And map the dark regions accursed. Nor wonder the youth, on some star -guided trail Far wandering alone in that Beautiful Vale, Might dream of that magical wand; And question if Cynthia, just hidden from sight By high - beetling mountains, the peerless, might light A fairer world lying beyond. Nor alone in the light that so silvery shone, That far world grew fairer that far world unknown. To Jehan, the longer he dreamed; Till beauty anear had no beauty for him: Noon s radiant sunshine with shadows was dim; The horizon narrower seemed. 72 THE HAPPY VALLEY. No longer he led in the dance of delight.- No longer his lute charmed the listening night, Nor songs cheered the lingering day; Still brooded that shadow when toiling afield; More darkly it deepened when midnight revealed That Dragon dread guarding the way. Still dreaming, and leaving his labor undone, Chance guided, or led by the westering sun, . Or lured by that fatuous ray That vision of beauty fatal unrest! With quickening footsteps he eagerly pressed The path to the mountain away. The loftiest peak that far dazzled and shone, High lifted alluring its snow -mantled cone O'er valley and river and wood; Still toiling aloft on each intricate trail, While dim and more dim shone the Beautiful Vale, Upon the tall summit he stood. When lo! from that airy empyrean height. What realm of enchantment arose on his sight! Elysian fields glimmer and gleam, Enshrouding in gloom evermore to his eye That Valley, close shut by the mountains so high;- And this was the land of his dream ! THE HAPPY VALLEY. 73 There seeming to reach unto limitless day, A new world, that broadened unbounded away. Unto his rapt vision unrolled; Where palaces shone, of all pleasures the shrine, And gardens and fountains and statues divine Gray glittered with crystal and gold. Enrapt with the splendor and glory he saw, He lingered, still gazing in wonder and awe Till night -mists enshrouded the scene; Then downward again through the darkness and gloam Returning, he passed to his once happy home Alas, now how homely and mean! The mother who saw, with a motherly care, Beneath the disguises that sorrow would wear. Her joy -loving Jehan was sad, Besought him, if ill had befallen to know If ill or misfortune had burdened with woe The heart ever wont to be glad. Said Jehan, ''Our home is a prison; its ward That Fiery Dragon, accursed and abhorred; On cottage and meadow and lea Forever the gloom and the shadows do lie, Foreboding and dark, of the mountains so high; And long have I yearned to be free. 10 74 THE HAPPY VALLEY. "I climbed to their cloud - mantled summit to -day More fair than I dreamed is that far world away ; There lie, with gold -glittering strand, The Isles of Delight, with all splendors aglow; The home of all pleasures ; to - morrow [ go To dwell in that beautiful land. ''A holiday life, a perpetual joy, No toiling to trouble, no want to annoy; Such plenty this poverty mocks; Such pleasures and riches we never may guess Who only the fruits of our orchards possess The fleeces and milk of our flocks." () fatalest vision of beauty! his sight. If only it were in a dream of the night, Beyond the horizon had flown; Already his footsteps were wandering free: Ere long, and a palace of crystal should be His home in that new world unknown. The mother but sighed, "All illusive and vain;" Yet felt in her heart the foreboding of pain That ever some .sorrow betides; Nor hastily chiding his purpose unwise, Bent tenderly on him love's pitying eyes. Whose lid the tear tremblingly hides; THE HAPPY VALLEY. 75 To soon overflow with its anguish and pain For treasure the years may not render again For loss Time may never requite; For oh ! at the dawn, he, her J.ehan, would tread The perilous way past that barrier dread. To dwell in the Land of Delight. So luring the vision that beckoned away. Unheeded the tears that besought him to stay The mother's low -murmuring sigh: "Oh. why should I live but this day to behold? Ah me! that the Siren of Pleasure or Gold Should sever Love's beautiful tie! " Yet barken and know, if my counsels are vain: None ever may pass till that Dragon be slain; Say. have you that talisman won ? None ever may venture the Valley beyond But he whose hand beareth that magical wand Remember, my son. () my son!" No answer he gave; but the earliest dawn Looked down on that cottage, and .Jehan was gone; At sunrise, more fierce than before. That Dragon, mad -glaring and bloody the same. Wide vomited torrents of sulphurous flame, And Jehan was heard of no more. 76 THE HAPPY VALLEY. When Time with soft healing a solace had lent, The Mother glad smiled in her home of content. As one that no sorrow had crossed: Yet oft when the day on the mountain was dim. Her eye thence turned tearful: her thought was of him Her first-born of Jehan. the lost. Albeit the heart, every burden resigned, For pain and bereavement the sorest, shall find A balm in the medicined years; Yet oh, if for grief but this comfort accrue. The swift - winging moments still open anew Forever the fountain of tears. And woe to the widowed! one grief overpassed Is only of sorrows one nearer the last; New stricken with anguish untold, Her Clarence she saw by the hearth's paling light Sit brooding that vision, illusive as bright. That lost her her Jehan of old. A joy in his labor no longer he found. ** But more, as the days wore monotonous round. He pensive and silent became; Like Jehan, he climbed to that cloud - mantled height Like Jehan, he gazed on that Land of Delight, With yearnings and longings the same. THE HAPPY VALLEY. 11 He saw the world broaden so boundless away. Where moved the vast throng in their brilliant array. The horizon looming immense. With billowy seas to his wondering view. With lands still beyond in the limitless blue. Far shining more luminous thence. The sunset had left all the mountain aflame. As down to the night - glooming Valley he came: How mean seemed the life he had led! How rude and unsightly that cottage, his home His home now no longer, for he too would roam, That land of enchantment would tread. The Mother, Avhose heart bore the prescient pain Of sorrow -foreboding, besought him in vain: "What good can my darling desire? Oh, what has befallen my Clarence to -day So wont to be cheerful and tuneful and gay? Why slumber his songs and his lyre?" "Pur Valley is small, 1 ' said the youth in reply; " The horizon narrow, the mountains so high The shadows lie darkly below; That far world away oh how peerless and grand ! My feet will not rest from that beautiful land; To-morrow, to-morrow I go!'' 78 THE HAPPY VALLEY. Love answered him weeping: " What more do you know Than he that was lost in the days long ago My first - born, my beautiful son '! Oh, why will you venture the mountain to pass. Again to o'erwhelm me with sorrow alas! Say. have you that talisman won?" "Yea. Mother, for mine is a worthier quest." Said Clarence: "this burning desire in my breast No thought of mere pleasure has fanned; I go for no purpose ignoble and vain: I bear, in the wish and the longing to gain All knowledge, that magical wand." Low bent, as thrice widowed, the Mother again Sat weeping till Midnight looked in at the pane. Sad harkened her sorrowing wail; For knew she how false, how deceitful the charm Of knowledge that knowledge might never disarm That guardian fierce of the Vale. The eyes of the Morning, all tearful and red, Bent mournful on Reuben, as lonely he led His flocks to their pastures so green: More fierce and mad - glaring^ftiM bloody the same. That Dragon stood belching wide torrents of flame: Arid Clarence he never was seen. THK HAPPY VALLEY. 79 And in the glad Summers that beautiful wore. His name in that Valley was spoken no more; Or only, her loss to bemoan, To Reuben, the Mother's now only delight. Was whispered, and softly, as sadly at night They mused by the fireside alone. heart of the Mother! forever to bear Its infinite sorrow of love and despair! Howbeit, but darkly we know: Vet ever some truth in Tradition is found. And many, alas! by that Dragon lie bound Uound fast in a region of woe. And oft when the Midnight shone angry and red, Came sounds from afar, as of anguish and dread. Lamenting and sorrowing vain: While ever anon, fearful borne on the air. Came tumult of battle, the wail of despair, The moaning of spirits in pain. * * * The earth mantles green that the earthquake has rent; The hills shine new-verdured when Winter is spent; New bourgeons with sweetness the grove; So kindles anew in the d^Jolate years The day-star of Hope, quenched in anguish and tears, Re -lit with the sunshine of Love. 80 THE HAPPY VALLEY. The Mother erelong, not to sorrow in vain. Took up all her love -bearing burdens again Though widowed, not wholly bereft; Though, telling of griefs for the loves she had lost, Her brow wore a circlet of silver and frost, More joyed she in one that was left. And patient at evening, at morning, and noon, Her spindle she plied, with its musical tune Beguiling the care in her breast; Yet oft, when the twilight fell sober and pale, Would tears, with sad memories burdened, unveil Unbidden, the sorrowful guest. And is there an ever unmedicined woe? Howbeit we know not; this only we know: When breaks on the desolate years Some loss that Time never may lighten again, How dull seems the smart of a sorrow whose pain May yield to the solace of tears! And what unto her, the thrice -widowed, was lefty Alas! to that bosom so sorely bereft The sorrow of sorrows had come; The last of her treasures her staff and her joy Her Reuben, her comfort, her studious boy, Sat joyless and dreaming and dumb. THE HAPPY YM.LK\. 91 () eyes of the Mother! what pleading and prayer! () heart of the Mother, unbroken to bear Of love the remembered caress! What bodings of ill all the future bethrong, Well knowing, dream - haunted, his footsteps ere long That path of enchantment would press. What marvel to him would the morrow unveil? At dawn he had passed on the mountain -led trail With light -speeding footsteps and bold; On him the bright world of immensity smiled, Whose glories illusive so fatal beguiled Lost Jehan and Clarence of old. Fair broadened the same to his wondering sight The boundless horizon; the Land of Delight In limitless splendor unrolled; Where threshold and portal and pillar and dome Of many a palace, of pleasure the home, Gay glittered with crystal and gold. Rapt in wonder and awe a moment he stood, Nor questioned the pageant if evil or good, Allured with its shimmer and sheen; But gazing intent, with his sight clearer grown, In a world that to others so beautiful shone He saw but a sorrowful scene. u 82 THE HAPPY VALLEY, He saw in that new world so seemirigty fair No brow but was dark with the shadow of care, Though dwelling mid splendors untold; Each phantom delight that evanishing rose Was but the delirious frenzy of those Whose gods are but pleasure and gold. Palace, pillar, and dome, with their glitter and glow. All things he beheld, were but treacherous show; The gardens of beauty and bloom Bore only the fruit that is bitter to taste; The blossoms if blossoms there brightened the waste. Were poppies of deadly perfume. An innermost life with true being is wed : As this, so the outward is, living or dead, The living alone shall remain; Whatever of Truth or of Beauty there hides In the soul, in the world is in which it abides; All else is illusive and vain. His footsteps delayed on the rock-builded height. Till loftier purpose that sorrowing sight Awoke in his pitying breast : And he too would go every danger would dare, Might he the true secret of happiness bear Afar to that people imblest. THK HAPPY VALLEY. 83 Grew stronger and deeper that worthier aiui, As downward he passed to the cottage he came. To dream of that magical wand; If only by him might the Dragon be slain ! Still deeply he pondered that vision of pain That charmed but illusory land. The Mother, low bowed in new terror and dread. Bent on him, as silent we look on the dead; For well, without question, she guessed That he too, her Reuben, that border would pass His footsteps the path to the mountain, alas! That path of enchantment had pressed. Nor more did she weep, for the fountain of tears Within her was dry with the sorrow of years; Nor minded the pitying Dawn, Though all the long night of her anguish was spent Low moaning, as o'er the dead embers she bent, "Oh he, my last treasure, is gone!" Rain torrents of flame on his venturous head ! Make fiery the pathway he fearless must tread, Who passes that Valley beyond ! Weave, evil -taught demons, your sorcerous thrall! Yet him, midst all perils, no ill shall befall, If bearing that magical wand. 84 THE HAPPY VALLEY. When tardy the Morning, and mournful, at last Looked down o,n the Valley, thence Reuben had passed. Had passed at the earliest sheen ; But lo! when the D;iy on the mountain was bright- Had drowned all the sombering shadows with light. That Dragon no longer was seen. Dim rising afar on her tear - darkened view. What wonder is there ? could her vision be true ? The Mother rejoices again : That Dragon, that ever by night and by day Stood barring the path to that far world away. That Dragon her Reuben had slain ! And still as she gazed, lo! what marvels unfold? What splendors break fair over woodland and Avoid? More bright, with a lovelier bloom. Earth, thrilling ecstatic, quick mantles and glows; Arrayed in new beauty, each flower that blows Is sweet with a rarer perfume. More golden the harvest that billows the plain, With sound of the sickle blends happier strain That joyous the reapers prolong: The groves stand enrapt, with new blossoms adight. More tremulous thrill with a sense of delight Are vocal with happier song. THE HAPPY r ALLEY. 85 All Nature, endowed with a tenderer grace, Like angel of mercy, that seeks to erase All record of error and blame. Glad kindles and quickens with beaut}', until Field, meadow, and woodland, and valley, and hill. The triumph of Virtue proclaim. Not he that icould be of all Riches possessed, Nor he that would pass of all Knowledge in quest, Might venture that Valley beyond; He only that xpell of enchantment withstood Who sought not his own, but of others the yood: Lore Lore icax that Magical Wand- SONGS OF THE SEASONS. \ Though all things irith the changeful Seasons flee, A garland glorioiis in its odorous shine A feu* fleet sunny Summer hours may twine, To fade, then sjjriiiy at/a in In sun and shine Tlic myriad lowly blooms on hill and plain ; While evermore the changeful Seasons flee Forever onirard flee. The thoughts that light the temple of the Soul, Tin' Jiff t/tnf bunts IIJIOH />* inner xJifiiif, 'The lore and faith that from Its deptJut outshine, That Khali not all di'jtinl. But bloom and ticine In Winters as in Sit miner* of the heart; These mark the yearn unto the lirini/ Soul The ever -living Soul. SPRING VOICES. ROSE, whose tiiiy buds enfold The promise of a perfect flower; Tulip, that a precious dower Of beauty in thy heart dost hold; Lily, that a robe of gold Art weaving for thy bridal hour; Ye Hyacinths, whose petals show More than the blue of Summer skies; Ye Paiisies that so fair arise And smile 011 April's sleet and snow; Ye Violets that bashful show The heaven that is in loving eyes; And all ye waiting blooms that sleep The sleep by rarest dreams beguiled; Ye children of the wood and wild That watch, but do not watch and \veep; Oh for the simple trust ye keep! Your saintly faith, undeh'led! 90 SPRING VOICES. Though fierce the stormy tempest rage, Ye only hear the murmuring Of Summer, like the dreams that bring The vision of Love's golden age; And thrill to rapture's dim presage, The pulse and prophecy of Spring. Oh for your patient " All is well;'' Though shrouded deep in gloom and night, Of radiant hours of dear delight Your dimly - folded petals tell, As wing, dark brooding in the shell, Foreshows a free aerial flight. heart of mine! and art thou less Than flower the kindly soil inurns? The faithful sun to it returns Thy proper good thou shalt not miss; More than a paradise of bliss Lives in the soul that loves and yearns. SEED-TIME. OH, THIS the Toiler's happy fate: He shall not toil in vain; So, toiling early, toiling late, Till well the gleby plain; Cast in the fruitful seed and wait The sunshine, dew, and rain; Though many a morn shall come and go, And night succeed the day, Full -eared the ripened sheaf shall glow In Autumn's halcyon ray. Nor less, with labor made sublime By purpose true and strong, Sow all the fallow fields of Time With Thought and Deed and Song; And trust, from farthest land and clime, The waiting heart erelong Shall gather in its harvest hoard .Of precious corn and oil, And wine of love, to brim the board Make glad the after -toil. A SONG OF MAY. THEEE'S a harp in the boughs of the lindens again. Like the voices my infancy knew; There are tiny throats trilling a joyous refrain To the morning beje welled with dew; And the dear baby -buds that all beauty enfold, Softly peep from their covert to-day; Lo! the Hyacinth's purple and Daffodil's gold Are unveiling the glory of May. There are Cowslips bestarring the moor -meadow green, Budding Buttercups pale with surprise; Sunny Dandelions couched in their velvety screen Are outlooking with wondering eyes; While the sweet - bringing bee in the orchard a -hum Vagrant loiters the noon -tide away, Till the drone of his piping with sweetness is dumb In the bountiful blossoms of May. A SOXG OF MAY. 93 There are Violets dear that have been with us long Spring's first darlings from under the snow; And the frailer Anemones haply prolong Vanished April's ephemeral show; Far the Dogwood is showering its snow in the dells, And the Hazel with tassels is gay; Softly rings the Azalia its silvery bells To the rivulet's murmur of May. And the Tulip I see, in the pride of her bloom. She has put on her gaudiest suit For the Lilac, outbreathing a luscious perfume To the Strawberry's promise of fruit; High the Iris is bearing his helmet and spear Fair unfolding his azuringray; While the sigh of the slumbering Roses [ hear. All impatient of lingering May. Yet how vain is the charm of each murmurous lute. Vain the dower of all beauty, to him Who must mourn the sweet music of lips that arc mute And the sunshine of eyes that are dim; hi each flowering bell, through each chorister's throat. Sings the Summer a sorrowing lay To the heart that still misses Love's rapturing note From the merriest anthems of Mav. JUNE. MONTH of Flora! month of roses! Bring again the gifts divine: Autumn's gold thy heart encloses; In the garlands thou dost twine Hides the heaping Horn of Plenty brims the vintage - glowing wine. When the dewy dawn is breaking Unto morn serene and grand. Hark! exultant anthem waking Of the wildwood's warbling band, Like a wind-swept harp ^Eolian, joyful thrilling all the land. High the Thrush his song is swelling Where no meaner voice intrudes; Par the Wood -dove's note is telling Love's soft matin through the woods, While a home of beauty building mid the leafy solitudes. JUNE. 95 Mad with Joy's delirium panting, Nearer sings the Oriole; Loud the Bobolink is chanting " Bob -o -link," with fiery soul, Till through all the woodland arches wide the music billows roll. Lowly minstrels ! long above ye Gently wave the budding sprays; Never will I cease to love ye; Let your choral roundelays Waken still Love's wild aspirings, yearnings for harmo nious days. Though the Seasons swiftly leave us, Each some precious boon shall bring; Nor shall ever Hope deceive us Waiting for the coming Spring Waiting for the promised Summer, with its light and blossoming. AUTUMN FLOWERS. THOUGH but a memory is the flowery reign Of gentle Spring, out of the days before; And Summer, journeying over hill and plain, By sea and shore, Jewelled and crowned, leading a joyous train. And gorgeous, is no more; Still unto Autumn suns is beauty born: One Artist - hand paints every flower that Hows; The garlands that October's brow adorn Are dear as those By lovely June in all her glory worn. Crowned with the royal Rose. The garden boasts the Dahlia's regal show; The many-hued Verbenas glint and shine: Uplifts the Feverfew its brow of snow : Still climb and twine The Morning-glories; Portulacas glow Flame like a ruby - mine. AUTUMN FLOWERS. 97 And all the common flowers a lowly race Their bloom prolong: the Zinnias bright unfold: The ( 'ockscomb proud flaunts high each gaudy grace ; The Marigold, Though rude and homely, wears the cheerful face It wore in days of old. The Primrose frail, like her the Summer knew, Hides from the ardor and the glare of noon; Bears to the stars, as erst she poured unto The Harvest - moon, The fervor of a passionate heart and true Though paling all too soon. In borders wide the Asters radiant bloom For beauty's lofty guerdon vie and cope; The wind that murmurs by the Violet's tomb Of vanished hope. Comes laden with the Mignonette's perfume And breath of Heliotrope. Still keeps the Amaranth, nor overworn, The loveliness that saw the Summer come: And one shall glad the Christmas hour adorn Chrysanthemum, Made dearer for the kisses latest -born Of lips now cold and dumb. 98 AUTUMN FLOWERS. In shady nooks the gentle Pansies show A smile as tender as the buds that blew Buds born too soon amid the April snow; I wander through The tranquil woods with Golden Rod aglow, And Speedwell's sapphire -hue. Nor these alone illume the waning hour: Along the moor with fierce intensity Kindles and burns the scarlet Cardinal Flower: And hosts there be The miscalled weeds, that, dowered with beauty's dower. Gleam like a golden sea. And oh, if chance the tempest's ruder kiss Leave all the flowers of Spring untimely sere, Or drouth lay waste the Summer's loveliness, Thrice doubly dear Are ye, Autumnal blooms! that charm and bless The slowly - passing year. And best beloved, long -sought, late -found, mine More than this blossomed sweetness, Friend of Fate ! Though on life's hills the hues of Autumn shine. All seasons wait Alike the Rose of Love the flower divine, * That never blooms too late. PARTING SUMMER. THERE is a moaning on the breath of morn. A solemn cadence in the rillet's chime, A voice foreboding on the night -winds borne The first low breathing of the wintry time. The while meek Summer over all things broods And pensive ponders on each lessening day, There comes a glory on the ripened woods The sure precursor of a swift decay. The corn is bending to the zephyrs free, Its thick ears waving with a flush of gold; The fruit is ripening on each orchard tree, The nut is browning on the hazel -wold; But she, the Beauteous, who had hardly known One tearful trouble, in her sorrow lies; Her song is saddened in its every tone, And dimmed the shining of her lustrous eyes. 100 PARTING SUMMER. And when her sceptre from her swaying falls. Oh. who would chide her for the brimming tear, While to our hearts for sympathy she calls. Through all the voices of the failing year? As thrills our being with a sudden pain. When fall the shadows of life's closing day. To find its promise of fruition vain, So freely trusted all the coming way : As stirs the spirit with a dread unrest And trails its pinion in the very dust, As bowed with anguish is the aching breast Ere Hope is anchored in a higher trust, So is she stricken with the sorest grief: And oh, what wonder she should make such moan. To leave the treasures of a life so brief. And all things lovely that are still her own ? Erewhile I marked her as she musing strayed Through paths oft trodden in the vanished time When gaily wandering as the vernal maid. Or glad and joyous in her matron prime: Soft charms still kindled in those features fair. Quick feeling trembled in her troubled eye; Her cheek still mantled through its lines of care. Her lip low murmured througji each stifled sigh: PARTING SUMMER. 101 %k How have I nurtured ye with light and dew. Ye woods, far waving with your glossy spray: Each leaf now fading where it fluttering grew Shall soon be wafted by the winds away. And heaped and moulding in the lonely vale With every semblance of its greenness gone. Or trod by truant on the upland trail. Or rustle fearful to the startled fawn. " And you. ye songsters of the airy wing. [ well with plenty have your wants supplied; And still contented could I hear ye sing. Nor dream of aught of recompense beside: But now the voices of the grove are mute, Save few more venturous that may still prolong Joy's dying anthems with a lonely flute And these are singing too their parting song. " And yon bright lakelets shall I see no more, With white waves flashing in the Summer's pride ? Will ye not sadden to the saddened shore, With storm-clouds mirrored in your glassy tide? And you, ye rillets of the silver chime, That gleam and sparkle like a love -lit eye. Will ye not miss me in the coming time, And dim and darken to the darkened sky '? 102 PARTING SUMMER. " And must I leave you in your beauty all, Ye haunts so cherished, of field, wood, and glade, And know ye shrouded in a gloom and pall, A dearth all darkly on your brightness laid ? The earth was starry with my tiny flowers, Now lost, or sweetly unto fruitage grown; That soon, when ripened in the golden hours. Shall Autumn garner as if all his own. " Still would I tarry if I might with these, If but in pleasures of the Past to dwell; I may not rest me but beyond the seas, My reign is ended, and I go: Farewell." But still she lingered, as if loth to part From scene and vision with her being twined; And how can woman, with a woman's heart, Forget each idol that it once hath shrined? And still she lingered; and I could but mourn To see her grieving, and so soon to go; But hark! she listens to the sounding horn Of Autumn, winding in the vale below: Startled, she gazes on a stranger crest (She hardly knew him for her tear -dimmed sight); Then swift reclining on his manly breast, Re -gave his greeting with a heart - delight. PARTING SUMMER. 103 And many a day a long bright sunny time These twain have tarried, and ye could not know If this were Summer's in her sober prime, Or that were Autumn's in his genial glow; But late I marked him with a ruffled brow, A look of sternness in his troubled eyes; A frown is shrouding their effulgence now, And clouds are flying through the startled skies. Like sparks outpouring from some furnace fire, The woods are showering off their crimson locks; The winds blow boisterous in their fitful ire The first up -gathering of the Equinox. And she, the Beauteous, with a brow serene, As if the calm of heavenly hope it wore. Gave one look fondly at each olden scene, One smile of parting, and was seen no more. ASPHODEL. SAD September winds are sAvelling Through the dreary Autumn wood; As some haunting shade were telling Through that regal solitude Of the Past's untimely perished. The beloved of gayer hours, Early lost, too deeply cherished. Blighted hopes and faded flowers. Once what time the bee was drunken On the orchard -bough's perfume. In the Cowslip's calyx sunken, Or the Lilac's purple bloom, By my path a flower was blowing, With the Snow -drops, fair and frail; A more living beauty growing Than the pride of Sharon's Vale. ASPHODEL. 105 Ever from its morning natal Did my heart all lovingly Watch each tiny folded petal Slow unveil its mystery; Though, the hours with brightness winging, Wheresoe'er the sunlight fell Were a thousand blooms upbringing, None so fair as Asphodel. But the Mignonette is faded, Dimmed the Tulip's gaudy dyes, And the light of pity shaded In the Violet's brimming eyes: No ambrosia sweetly lingers In the Rose's nectar -wells, And no sound of fairy fingers In the faded Lily -bells. Lone the wood -haunts sleep uiigladdened With the Speedwell's sapphire blue, Prone the Clematis lies saddened With a love -forsaken hue; Darkly quenched the frail aspiring Of the Jasmine's slender stem; Thick the clustered Vine is firing With the Autumn's diadem; 106 ASPHODEL. Summer's troubled cheek is paling; And my heart, bereft and sore, With the widowed hours is wailing For the Beautiful no more ; All the garden walks are lonely, Waking to no little tread; All things wore a beauty only In the love that now is dead. Grief, alas! my grief to heighten, In my loss is other known ; All earth's fairest gifts do brighten With a radiance not their own ; All things beauteous and tender Summer blooms and sunset skies- Wear alone their Eden splendor In the light of loving eyes. OCTOBER. OH HOW I love ye, pensive Autumn days, With suns so meek, so beautiful and brief; When grove and tree shed down the crimson leaf, And Summer birds have sung their parting lays; When lowly lies each haunt by vale and hill In mellow brightness of the hazy skies; When, as in thought, all Nature hushed and still In sober, dreamy melancholy lies. Why do ye win me so oh, who may tell? As yields the doting heart the deepest trust, As bows the stubborn will to Beauty's spell, So do I pour an homage full and free, Because I would, but more because I must, Unto the days the loveliest that be. AUTUMN. WITH radiant brow, though deeply furrowed o'er With lines of toil, old Autumn, hale appearing, As if content with plenty, seeks no more; Leans on his staff and eyes his treasured store. The woe -worn wizard Want no longer fearing; Broods o'er the Past each tender thought endearing His young loves, now no more. And who the story of his days may tell, Each deed and purpose of his heart divining? These, like his sheaves, are ripe and garnered All safely locked in Memory's deepest cell ; Now, like a bough, no golden fruit inclining. Or leafless tree where no brown nut is shining, When all are hoarded well. AUTUMN. 109 And much of gladness, though in life's decline. Yet warms his breast, in every feature glowing: He quaffs a bumper of the choicest wine, Still fresh from vintage where the clusters shine ; His full hand freely unto Want bestowing O'erjoyed to see the cup of all, high flowing With oil and corn and wine. Yet have I marked him when in pensive mood Hard by my way on mossy bank reclining; But on his rest I never dared intrude, His tearful eye forbade obtrusion rude; Such snowy locks his kingly forehead twining, With such a presence all around him shining, I never dared intrude. Though oft when passing with a lingering tread I could but think the old man's heart was breaking; His lips were calling on the loved and dead, And free the flowing of the tears he shed; Now to his sight the Past new beauty taking, While every thought, unconscious sigh awaking, Was of the loved and dead. 110 AUTUMN. And thus he mused: " How long since low we laid Your faded forms, loved ones buried lying ! How many well - endeared doth cypress shade! And beauteous Flora her, the gentlest maid 11 (My own eyes moistened at his tears and sighing) ' Her of the early wed and early dying Her too doth cypress shade. "My toil -got gold oh what a bootless gain! And this the end of all my striving, praying: My loves, my hopes, my aspirations vain, Outliving all of life itself but pain The sense the deepest and the latest staying: No pitying hand its keenest pang allaying Hopes, aspirations, vain." While yet his tear -wet eye and heaving breast Betokened still his grief found no beguiling, A lovely form, with grace celestial blest, Came softly nigh, and sought his place of rest; I knew sweet Summer by her kindly smiling, That oft erewhile, a darkened moment whiling, My own lone heart had blest. AUTUMN. HI She had come back yes, had come back again. To olden scenes, serene and calm outlying; To linger yet awhile on hill and plain Where erst she wandered with a joyous train. Ere earth's soft music knew a tone of sighing, Ere bright things saddened at the thought of dying. O'er hill or vale or plain. But not to mourn her youthful visions o'er One glorious faith from out their wreck retrieving: Though grief at frost and blight were deep and sore, That all of Love will live forevermore, That fadeless wreath eternity is weaving; But oh ! to find her friend so deeply grieving. It pained her sad and sore. That meeting who may paint? my pen is weak: The deep, deep pulsing of the heart's revealing Is language truer than the tongue can speak, Though on expression every power it wreak; The long, long, warm embrace its fount unsealing The ebb and flowing of the tide of feeling Leave naught for lips to speak. 112 AUTUMN. And may not love have home yea, love refined [11 chastened breast with holiest passion swelling? Such are the magnet sympathies that bind In deeper, closer unity of mind, The kin of thought of life whose spirit dwelling Is in the One Great Heart, whose love outwelling For aye doth all things bind. Nor strange that gladness should resume her reign, As with all Hope -charmed words her lips were showing The stern though dread necessity of pain How early loss may be our later gain; While every soothing sympathy bestowing, Such as alone from woman's heart outflowing May loose the bond of pain. And I have seen, through many a shining day, O'er hill and plain these twain together straying, While in their eyes gleams such a heavenly ray I can but deem their bliss is full alway; But still I fear me for their transient staying; Yet would I long, the last farewell delaying, Joy in that rapturing ray. INDIAN SUMMER. LIKE bannered host, with helmet, plume and spear Far borne elate, from thousand battles gory, The flaming woodlands glow ; these, year by year, Are Nature's palimpsest, whereon, austere In Winter gloom, or gay in Summer glory, Is writ with magic pen the wondrous story Of all the circling year. How thrills my bosom to thy tempered rays, More fair than radiant smiles in beauty's keeping Through all the quiet of thy golden days Lie all things mantled in a dreamy haze Like wearied bosom in its tranquil sleeping, Like gentle calm that cometh after weeping: Thine are the loveliest days. 15 114 INDIAN SUMMER. They tell us of a far-off sunuy clime With noontide sheen on tropic splendors lying, Where all the year is one long blooming -time Where song of Flora, in her joy and prime. Wakes minstrel Echo with a joy replying From morning's dawning until vesper's sighing. Through all the charmed time. Thy light, o'erlying all the azure wall, So softly mellowed in its peerless shining; Thy sober -kindling sunshine over all, That lingers even where the shadows fall; Thy frosted wreath, the vernal season's twining; Thy faded scrolls, thine own fond first love's lining These do surpass them all. See yonder up what goodly altitudes! Supremer heights, more tranquil airs, unveiling, Along the hills a purple glory broods; In all the silence of the Autumn woods A royal robe of tinted splendor trailing O'er shrub and tree, unto rare beauty paling A subtle spirit broods, IX 1)1 AX SUMMEK. 115 Like smile that trembles in Love's sorrowing tear; Like fond regret some tender thought suffusing; Like heart high throbbing with a wealth of cheer. Though known of grief, no.r stranger unto fear, Though lone and saddened, yet in hopeful musing. When some high faith hath recompensed its losing 'With well -enduring cheer. Though stilled the chorus of the choral throng, More red than mountain peaks that sunset umbers Lies all the grove, late clamorous with song; A sacred calm these forest aisles along, A holy hush, a Sabbath quiet slumbers; A silent music breathes in mystic numbers, Sweeter than any song. I lowly listen to each Dryad rune, Through lonely woodland haunts ecstatic straying, While all day long is one long afternoon; Had Eden fairer sublunary boon Than Nature ever at this height delaying ? Such rainbow -tinted sundowns her arraying, Gorgeous, at highest noon. 116 INDIAN SUMMER. Brief are thy halcyon days, and fleeting fast, Though yet October's milder reign imposing, As though thy hour most beauteous were last; Like faithful spirit, when its strife is passed, I n bosom of a deathless hope reposing : So may my days, when hastening to their closing, Grow brighter till the last. GARNERED SHEAVES. WHEN passed life's Summer clays of heat and toil, As musing lone I sit with frosted locks, When passed the Passions' stormy equinox And vain Ambition's labor and turmoil, May I. Autumn, bound with withered leaves And faded flowers that failed of ripened seeds, Like thee, like thee count o'er my wealth of sheaves And harvest -hoard^ the fruit of noble deeds. Serene as falls thy light on amber slope, And woodlands far aflame like set of sun, My failing days be beautiful with Hope; And bear, like thine, my heart's wild yearnings stilled. The blest fruition of a labor done The glory of a destiny fulfilled. WINTER LAYS. THE bristling woods are tipped with gold, As dusky twilight shadows fall; I hear again the shepherd's call. The sheep -bell tinkling to the fold; The hearth -fire crackles to the cold, And faintly flickers 011 the wall. lit 1 -pile the grate, and spread the board. With little store, or plenty, blest; Still from thy birder bring the best; Unlock the orchard's harvest hoard Whatever good tl\v hand hath stored: Then hid thy friend a welcome guest. And while the slowly kindling blaze Leaps sparkling from the crackling fire. Bring forth the harp, attune the lyre. And wake the songs of other days; Love's olden long -forgotten lays. That win the soul to new desire. WTNTER LAYS. 119 And heart to heart, as eye to eye, Charm the slow-winging hours away With tales of many a vanished day And severed link and sundered tie; Of loved ones dead, that never die, And other near ones, far away. Or join awhile the joyous train, And feel the pulses dance and leap Where merry feet in mazes sweep Unto the viol's mellow strain: While moonlight silvers o'er the plain, And starry eyes their watches keep. LOOK where yon ice-bound river winds Afar the cragged hills between : See high above its snowy sheen The glimmer of a thousand pines. That all the dim horizon binds A massy belt of living green. Deep rooted in the soilless earth See heavenward rear their giant forms, Though scarce the glow of Summer warms Those serried steeps of frost and dearth; Mid rocks and barrenness their birth. High cradled by the eddying storms. 120 WINTER LAYS. And so the soul, in soil of care, On glaring glacier peaks of woe, Shall like yon pines amid the snow A fadeless wreath of beauty wear Be brighter for the frosty air, And stronger for the winds that blow. THE night -winds sigh along the sedge; While on the orient's silver crest The thickly somberiiig shadows rest; High, pile on pile, a beetling ledge Seems toppling on the horizon's edge, Of clouds upgathering in the west. Where Autumn shed his sober light. O'er shining fields of golden grain, Whence blended in one glad refrain Came harvest songs of home delight, We see, alas! but dearth and blight, And hear the storm shriek out amain. The sable gloom the morning wears Chill o'er the orient's misty bar, The clouded noon, so dim^nd far, But type the heart my bosom bears; O'ershadowed by a thousand cares, And ray less of each heavenly star. WIXTER LAYS. 121 Yet soon the onward rolling } r ear Shall bring again each vanished day- Spring shed a warm and joyous ray Adown the vale now lone and drear; New leaf in green the forest sere, And robe the hills in bloom of May. So may our souls, though all unblest. And bowed in sorrow overlong, With olden Summer glories throng; And feeling's most divine unrest Full flood again the empty breast, And brim the crystal wells of song. THE cones that pierce yon purple light Have seen a hundred winters flee, And other hundred years shall see; Ere, yielding to the tempest's might. * They topple from their dizzy height, My simple harp will cease to be. Yet will I tune my wintry lyre. Though it may Avake no note of fame. To nobler purpose, higher aim, To feel each winged thought aspire; While brighter glows the kindling fire, And still more bright the social flame. 122 WINTER LAYS. So will I cheer the hour with song; Nor doubt along life's darkened ways There swells some echo of my lays In hearts where mystic murmurs throng; More sweet, if love the strain prolong. Than hollow trumpet -tongue of praise ALL day the forest oaks have swayed Their branches with a restless sweep; The winds their stormy revels keep Through wooded wilds, in field and glade: While round the cotter's hut delayed Still higher piles the drifting heap. All day upon my heart has lain The shadow of a nameless fear; I stay the overbrimming tear, And still my bosom's throb of pain; But its disquiet comes again, And deepens as the glooms appear. No vain regret for loved ones dead Lives in this strangely - aching smart; Nor careless hand with ruthless dart Anew some olden wound hath bled; Nor know I whence the sorrow dread That casts its shadow on my heart. WINTER LAYS. 123 And is there by the soul possessed A chord that feels prophetic thrill, Presaging grief erewhile to fill The coming time with sore unrest? A horoscope within the breast, And this its dark portent of ill? Some Stormy Petrel's warning cry On Life's lone seas? the haunting wraith Of yet uncoffined love and faith? The twanging of a sundered tie? The kiss of lips that soon shall lie Mute in the miracle of Death ? Ah well ! of Truth the rarest seeds Are sorrow -sown; from out the dust Our tears have wet the wreck and rust Of perished hopes and buried creeds, Spring harvests new qf nobler deeds Of purer love and higher trust. FULL many a day the biting snow Has cumbered wide the saddened plain: Still higher heaps the drifting lane, Still bleak the storm - winged tempests blow: We seek the sun's serener glow From out the burdened skies in vain. 124 WINTER LAYS. The fleecy tenants of the fold Still mourn the meadow's grassy boon: The kine, the heathy copse to prune. Lone wander on the dreary wold And look, while shivering with the cold. For pity to the clouded moon. Like yeanlings reft of mother's breast, That Summer's sunlight sadly miss. Or, bowed in wintry loneliness, Like yonder kine, with hunger pressed, I wander on Life's weary waste, Amid the blighted boughs of bliss. O'ER leagues of snow-emmantled earth The Christmas bells are ringing clear; Thrice - welcome hour, though bleak mid drear. And harbinger of storm and dearth: In loving smiles and glowing hearth Thou bringest more than Christmas cheer. hallowed day! to thee allied Is all that most this life endears Of faith and hope of doubt and tears, And love of One for love that died. Yet lives again, and glorified In thee, through twice a thousand years! WINTER LAYS. 125 To-day shall Absence and Regret Their iron sceptre yield to you; For friends to old affection true Across the stormy years have met, And eyes with joy's suffusion wet Drink light from kindred eyes anew. To-day the sire that feebly bows Shall flush with seeming youth the while; And careless girlhood's happy smile Re -light its glow on matron brows; While blissful dreams and loving vows Shall many a maiden care beguile. To-day shall grief, in anguish prone, From pain a respite gladly win; And he who owns no bosom -kin, Who threads Time's wintry maze alone. Shall start at oft -endearing tone Brief murmur from the life within: And musing sad, his heart shall lean To olden memories, hope -embossed; The latest loved, the early lost, Perchance are with him, all unseen, From Paradise of summer -green, To soothe his spirit, tempest -tossed; t> WINTER LA VS. Or on his deeply visioned eye Rise fairest forms we may not sec Loom other landscapes, blooming free; As. with a trust that may not die. He ponders long each sundered tie, Or bond more beautiful to be. THE mist lies heavy on the hills, And shrouds in gloom each rocky steep; The dusky clouds above them sleep. Whence slow the trickling rain distils. Like some o'erburdened lid that fills With gathering tears it can but weep. The fleecy snow and glistening rime Are melting from the earth away; I look upon her mantle gray, And think me of the blooming - time, And mark the day -god slowly climb Still higher up the walks of day. And glad to know each vanished storm Will go to grace the Summer hour, And add new beauty to the bower That drinks the sunshine glad and warm, And give each fairy floral form A greener leaf and gayer flower. WINTER I. A VS. 12 So oft the troubled heart must know The binding of ;m icy chain: Yet dewy tears, like Summer rain, Shall bid the frigid fountain flow Life wear anew its vernal glow, And feeling's pulses leap again. Some long -forgotten voice may wake The murmur of an early song; Or secret echo, silent long, A well -remembered music make; And oh! the aching heart must break. Or tears dissolve each icy thong. So shall we win from all things here A trust for good in everything. And hear Hope's bright - winged songsters sing Behind the wintry clouds of fear: And know, when watered by a tear, Love wears anew the flush of Spring. BY THE FIRESIDE. DEEP in the forest brown and bare I hear the Genius of the Storm; [ see the outline of his form Dark pictured on the frosty air; And mid the tall oaks waving there, The swaying of his mighty arm. Though bleak the bitter winds that blow, And darkens on a dreary night, The wide hearth beckons warm and bright; In converse sweet, in genial glow Of Summers buried long ago, Is more than Summer's lost delight. Awhile beside the cheerful blaze, Some story of the vanished time, And sweeter than the vesper -chime. Come read me, dear; or lowly lays From out the old heroic days, Of love through sorrow made sublime. BY THE FIRESIDE. 129 Bring for our darling ones' delight Arabia's fairy wonder -tome, Or with the world -wide Pilgrim roam: Tilt with the mad Castilian Knight; Or look with Crusoe's yearning sight On seas that gird his Island Home. Turn to the Ploughman - Poet dear: Let "Twa Dogs" wise their converse keep; With '' Halloween" our pulses leap; Bend o'er the " Mountain Daisy's " bier; Sing "Bonny Doon;" one tender tear With him for Highland Mary weep. Read of the Oak that lightly flung Abroad such wealth of songful lore To lovers dear; or. turning o'er, Of Alice, and the Bard that sung Albeit his heart with sorrow wrung " That loss but made us love the more. 1 ' Of her whose breath passed in the sigh " Sweet is true love, though given in vain;'' Or her that, pierced with pity's pain. Alone " clothed on with chastity," Rode at high noon through Coventry Unrobed, yet without blame or stain. 130 BY THE FIRES TDK. Of him that with his Hermia strayed, Slept a true lover and true knight; On whom before the morning light The Elfin's wizard charm was laid, So, waking, lie mistook the maid, And broke, and lightly proffered, plight. Is theirs alone the woe in weal? Alas! such lovers all are we; Where grows the herb whose potency May, counter -charmed, our eyes unseal'-' And each to each in truth reveal, And this confusion cease to be? Of her Wyoming darkly mourned The maiden beautiful, that fell By the red hand of war; ah, well! Precious the bliss her heart inurned That said: '"Tis Waldegrave's self," returned Again "of Waldegrave come to tell." Of her that bore too long the smart Of love delayed, yet keeping green Love's lilies for the one unseen. Counselling but her woman's heart. Chose in all ways life's better part; - Arcadian Evangeline. BY THE FIRESIDE. 131 Or. in the changeful Seasons, fly With Damon to the sylvan shade: Look on the foam -emman tied maid Behold love's sacred mystery! Oh, for the lover's chastened eye To see all beauty, disarrayed! Or roam Palemoii's Harvest -land: There with the lowly damsel glean, And dream that Virtue's garments mean Are Virtue's still; Love's sacred band Is more than gold; that Beauty's wand Still, chastened, holds its sway serene. Weep buried in Lavinia's grave For wedded loves in simple ways Of Nature, crowned with length of days, And fairest treasures Hymen gave: When " numerous offspring," sturdy, brave, And "lovely like themselves," was praise. * * * Or turning, read in lowly tales And waifs of old idyllic song, Of weary hearts that suffered long, Yet firm in trust that never fails; For much their triumph us avails To make our faith in Virtue strong. 132 BY THE FIRESIDE. Of him that, far years gazing through, Looked on his Annie's face beside An alien hearth; then, sorely tried, With yearning heart so tender -true. Back into sheltering darkness drew, And held his purpose till he died. Of him, the Chief of Table Round, That bore the matchless cimeter The mystic brand Excalibur; Great Arthur! he the Blameless crowned: That in such pitying grief profound Bent o'er his erring Gruinevere. And is there other sorrow care So infinite, supremely great As theirs, alas ! who yearning wait Prone by a darkened hearth, and bear To Love an agonizing prayer For love that, wandering, lingers late ? Of him, the pride of Ithaca: The greatest his of names that throng Heroic annals; brave and strong Mighty for noble deeds! may we, Like him, the Island Charmer flee, Nor harken to the Sirens' Song. BY THE FIRESIDE. 133 Of him who, Lethe's waters passed, In Hades journeyed far below Dark mapped the nether realms of woe: Thence rising to Elysian rest. Saw all the legions of the blest Whose garments are as drifting snow. But turn the visioned tome with awe; For who so pure to taste the bliss Of Dante and of Beatrice'? Yet owning still the primal law. All hearts do inspiration draw, Woman, from thy loveliness! * * * Lo, Midnight lingers at the gate! Still wide the lettered page unrolls Where Fame heroic deeds enscrolls: And oft returning shall we wait Around the hearthstone, conning late These chronicles of noble souls. And though the world do doubt their sooth, And sceptic's scoff be on him cast Who counts such legends of the Past More than a fabled dream of youth, Yet will we trust their very truth Or strive to make them true at last. Ever the Moon the Sea draws on apace ; Earth trembles, swaying unto orb afar; No star but turning unto answering str, Kindles find burns unto remotest space; Orion's flaming car Draws all the Hosts of heaven a shining train ; So in thy wider realm, O world of Mind! A fine electric tic lore's mystic chain Doth kindred Spirits bhid. SONGS OF THE TOILER. THE Seasons as they come and go Spring's gentle sunshine warm, The Summer's heat, the Autumn's glow, The Winter's cloud and storm; The flowers that drink the dews of morn The earth - bescreening sod, The myriad forms of beauty born In the wide realms of God: The rivers as they seaward wend. The sea -waves' wild turmoil, The winds the sturdy forest bend. Are the High Priests of Toil. 18 138 SONGS OF THK TOILER. They who in lettered lore untaught, Yet deeper visioned be. Who read, in Sibyl -cipher wrought, In earth and air and sea The good Beneficence intends. In sun and dew and rain See Nature working to vast ends Through all her fair domain, Shall feel their life at one with these, Nor from their task recoil. But leave the languid paths of Ease For the broad fields of Toil. JOY to the Toiler! him that tills The fields with Plenty crowned; Him with the woodman's axe that thrill The wilderness profound; Him that all day doth sweating bend In the fierce furnace heat; And her whose cunning fingers tend On loom and spindle fieet! A prayer more than the prayer of saint, A faith no fate can foil, Lives in the heart that shall not faint In time-lon<2: task of Toil. SONGS OF THE TOILER. 139 A bliss the sluggard never knows Deep in his heart shall spring. Whose life flows as the tide -wave flows Creation's antheming! Whom ceaseless din of labor charms Like new-world's primal song; As grow his swart and sinewy arms. His soul grows free and strong; Till over all a glory springs On mine and mill and soil, And the stern destiny that brings A heritage of Toil. PEACE to the troubled years agone ! Their darkest day is set, Though round the ages' rosy dawn The shadows linger yet; Full many a wondrous work is wrought, More wondrous yet to be Than flashing of undying Thought Across the unfathomed sea: And lo! the mystery that sleeps In Magian Serpent's coil The lightnings in the vasty deeps Chained to the car of Toil! 140 SONGff OF THE TOILKti. Still endless weave the subtle band O'er ocean, vale, and hill, Till far to one electric hand Shall million pulses thrill! God, this old world never knew Such prophecy of Peace! More faith and love our wrongs subdue, With light our hopes increase; Revealing near, like morning sun, Above the Past's turmoil, Our hearts' wild dream Utopian A Brotherhood of Toil! What time the noble Worker -band The true, the free, the bold, With swarthy brow and bony hand. Like warrior host of old, From where the Southern sunlight shines, Or Mississippi glides, Lone ceaseless sing our Northern pines, Wild break Atlantic tides, From many a land afar shall come, And not to feud arid broil : But to the festive Harvest -home And Carnival of Toil. SONGS Or THE TOILER. Roll up the full -orbed Freedom -star To light Earth's desert fields; Affright the solitudes afar With sound of rolling wheels, Thou fiery steed whose fearful neigh Wakes wide our. sovereign Land! Thou mighty triumph of To-day From Labor's cunning hand! Thy argosies no storms betide, No tempest's wrath may spoil; For all unheeding wind or tide, Thou tread'st thy path of Toil. THE Giant Slave, that may not tire. But work the long day through With thews of steel and lungs of fire, Has other task to do Than delve the mine or rive the hill Or wind the furnace - glow. Or drive the plane, the forge, the mill.- To plough and reap and sow! Till none shall walk with aching feet, With weary trudge and droil, But kingly proud, as seemeth meet The royal sons of Toil. 142 SOXGS OF THE TOILER. The mighty sinew - powers that wait In earth and sea and air, Shall tireless early toil and late Our menial burdens bear; Their iron feet still fleeter flee Our errands speed apace, Till only Art and Science be The Helots of the Race! The Toiler's glorious destiny No more to drudge and moil; His labor loving labor be Serene, untiring Toil. Joy to the Toiler everywhere! Still let his hand be plied; Wide plant the rose to blossom fair In many a desert wide; A richer blessing year by year Win from old mother Earth; A. purer household altar rear By the endearing hearth; Let wiser Thought to Labor given Redeem lost Eden's soil ; Then fair shall bloom the Flowers of Heaven In the sweet Homes of Toil. TANNHAUSER. ALL our modern skies are clouded with a sceptic gloom and haze With the dust of vanished years; Though the paling stars are shining, they have lost their mystic chime, Singing to our duller ears; So the ancient myths and legends, stories of the Olden Time, That the fading Past endears, Only to the eye that reads them by the light of other days, Are instinct with Truth sublime. TANNHAU8EB. Yet to-day by cottage firesides still, by mountain, moor. and fell, As in far-off Aryan times. Lives the Folk -Lore of the Ages; are by wrinkled grandames told All the nursery tales and rhymes; Faithful John and Cinderella, he the Master Thief and bold- Stories of all lands and climes; Famous sleepers, wondrous pipers, matchless archers; and they tell This among the legends old: In a mountain of Thuringia. where the storms their revels keep, Hidden in its heart of rock, Is the dwelling of Fran Holda. where her worshippers resort, Is the famous Horselloch; Whence is heard the cry of anguish and the laugh of demon sport Frenzied tongues that jeer and mock Blent with sound of angry billows in some dread abys mal deep. Cave where Venus holds her court. TANNHAVSER. 145 Only simple souls and lowly have the gift of clearer sight Have that rarer vision won; To the lone belated peasant, as he weary homeward strode, Plodding slow at set of sun, Oft that terror-haunted Venusberg a sudden Avonder showed; Brightening all the shadows dun, Saw he shining forms of maidens dancing in the spec tral light Dwellers in that weird abode. And the valiant knight, Tannhauser, he, the troubadour renowned, To all bold adventures led. With his great heart sole companioned, journeying late but unafraid By that cavern yawning dread, Saw uprising thence resplendent in the twilight's falling shade One of queenly form and tread; And she beckoned to him smiling, with her cestus-zone unbound, In all loveliness arrayed. 19 14:6 TANNHAUSER. As with kindling eye and eager feet he climbed that perilled way, Lo! before him watching late Rose an old man, Faithful Eckhardt there with white staff doomed to stand. Warn and ward from evil fate; The fore -herald when at midnight ride the Wild Hosts through the land; And he looked with pity great On that gallant minnesinger, lured by beauty's phantom ray, And he waved a warning hand. But in vain: Tannhauser gazing on that unveiled glory near, In its wizard charm and thrall, Saw not him, the faithful warden, nor the hand high waved in air; Honor, fame, gold, comrades all Were but foregone things forgotten; saw he but that vision fair. Heard he but that Siren -call; Music more than harp of Orpheus to his enchanted ear, Drowned that omen-tongued " Beware!" TANNHAU8ER. 147 On his good steed, on the outer world one longing look he fed To that Goddess turned, and lo ! Far she drew him to her palace, lit and garnished gor geously, In the mountain far below; And the hours went by unheeded, from all thought but pleasure free, And the wine -cups overflow; Wild delights and bacchanalian, to all lustful pleasures wed, Rioting and revelry. Nymphs with floating tresses shining like the gold in sunset sky. Waked the love - enchanted lyre; And each hot erratic passion in his fiery soul intense Kindled into fierce desire; All delights that beauty wanton, clasped in rapt delirious dance, And the foaming bowl inspire. Freely quaffed he until seven years had fled unheeded by; All the ravished joys of sense. 148 TANNHAU8ER, But ere long the soul that slumbers with remorse shall stricken be Must each sin its sorrow bear; And Tannhauser. again longing for the sunshine's clearer ray. For a breath of purer air. Cried unto the Virgin Mother, though with lips unused to pray. In his anguish and despair: She. with tender heart of pity, set his erring footsteps free In the light of upper day. More than jewelled halls and joy of wine and ribald jest and song In the caverns underground. Was to him the sun new-risen, was the