LIBRARY ^^ 
 University of 
 California 
 Irvine
 
 LAND OF OUR DREAMS 
 
 AND OTHER VERSE 
 
 BY 
 J. A. PEEHL 
 
 BOSTON 
 
 SHERMAN, FRENCH & COMPANY 
 1912
 
 V 
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1912 
 SHERMAK, FRENCH 6" COMPANY
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 LAND OF OUR DREAMS 1 
 
 THE CROSS 2 
 
 EVENING THOUGHTS 4 
 
 EDGE OF THE FOREST 5 
 
 THE MOUNTAIN LAKE 1 
 
 ON EAGLE S WINGS 9 
 
 TO THE WORLD 12 
 
 THE STORM . 14 
 
 NIGHT 17 
 
 MORNING 19 
 
 COURAGE 21 
 
 GLOOM 22 
 
 THE OCEAN 24 
 
 FROM THE BALTIC 25 
 
 THE PAINTER 27 
 
 THE SIGHT OF LAND 29 
 
 DAWN 30 
 
 ADVENT HYMN 32 
 
 SPRING 34 
 
 WHEN? 35 
 
 THE ISLAND OF BORNHOLM ...... 37 
 
 IN AFFLICTION 38 
 
 MEDITATION 39 
 
 MY SPARROW 40 
 
 TWILIGHT .41 
 
 WHAT IS BEYOND? 43 
 
 FROM THE DANISH 45 
 
 THEN 46
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 THE TRAMP 47 
 
 OX THE BALTIC 49 
 
 EVENING ON THE OCEAN 53 
 
 CONSIDER THE LILIES OF THE FIELD . . 54 
 
 TO A POND LILY 56 
 
 THOUGHTS SUGGESTED IN THE GEOLOGY 
 
 CLASS 57 
 
 REFUGE 60 
 
 PRAYER OF THE DYING 61 
 
 REST 62 
 
 AFTER SUNSET 63 
 
 THE HOUR OF PRAYER 64 
 
 BORNHOLM 66 
 
 I SAW HIM . 68 
 
 WE LINGER A MOMENT 70 
 
 WELL OF LIVING WATER ~2 
 
 BY THE RAILROAD 74 
 
 BY THE OCEAN 76 
 
 IMPATIENCE 87 
 
 TO THE TWENTIETH CENTURY 88 
 
 FAITH 90 
 
 TO MY FELLOW WORKMEN 91 
 
 ALWAYS JOYFUL ON THE WAY .... 92 
 
 LOST IN THE WOODS ........ 93 
 
 TO MY BIRD . 95
 
 LAND OF OUR DREAMS 
 AND OTHER VERSE
 
 LAND OF OUR DREAMS 
 
 (From the Danish) 
 
 BIRDIES their eyes are closing, 
 Perching with peace and rest; 
 
 Dream while the wind is tossing 
 Spray round their lofty nest. 
 
 Flowers with heads low bending, 
 
 Gently to mother earth 
 Dream while the waves are sending 
 
 Foam from the rocky firth. 
 
 Tired is your eyelid? Close it 
 
 Safe as the birds in nest. 
 Is aching your head? Then drop it 
 
 As gently the flowers rest. 
 
 Storm winds, though they be frightful ; 
 
 Billows, though white they bleach, 
 Land of our dreams delightful 
 
 Surely they shall never reach. 
 
 [1]
 
 THE CROSS 
 
 I PLAYED with creation when life was beginning 
 
 To dawn like the morning; I knew not of sin 
 ning; 
 
 I knew not the weal or the woes of existence. 
 
 The cross was yet hid in the gloom of the dis 
 tance. 
 
 I feared when the pleasures of childhood were 
 
 waning; 
 
 I reasoned on life, but knew not its meaning; 
 I groped in the darkness till life reached its 
 
 middle ; 
 The cross was enwrapped in redemption s deep 
 
 riddle. 
 
 At last when in doubt and in darkness I 
 trembled, 
 
 To meet where all slumbering souls have as 
 sembled, 
 
 I found as the theme of the sacred old story 
 
 The cross and its meaning, its gloom and its 
 glory. 
 
 I saw it more clearly unveiled in its beauty 
 When meekness was nature and peace was a 
 
 duty; 
 
 Then felt I the charm of its power divine. 
 I longed to unravel its deepest design.
 
 Sometimes when my heart shall grow faint, and 
 its beating 
 
 Shall cease and the glow of mine eyes shall be 
 fleeting, 
 
 I fear not, nor dread I, for sealed is my par 
 don: 
 
 The cross stands unveiled in the Paradise Gar 
 den. 
 
 [3]
 
 EVENING THOUGHTS 
 
 Now am I tired; the dew of slumber 
 
 Is gently falling on my eye. 
 Now shades of darkness deep as umber 
 
 Surround my couch, and round me lie. 
 
 Bid angel servants, ever brooding 
 
 O er Thy frail image stamped in clay, 
 
 To sooth my heart, my pillow smoothing, 
 And by my side through darkness stay. 
 
 Thy everlasting arms are round me; 
 
 Soft whisper now my quivering lip ; 
 My eyes from earth are turned towards Thee, 
 
 And worldly scenes from memory slip. 
 
 [4]
 
 EDGE OF THE FOREST 
 
 I SAT in the edge of the forest, 
 And watched the departure of day ; 
 The dimness was crowding around me, 
 And daylight was fleeing away. 
 
 The western horizon was burnished 
 With red and with yellow and green ; 
 Its mountains of crimson and purple 
 Had crossbars of ultra marine. 
 
 And over the sky at the zenith 
 The cirrus was fading away ; 
 Their fleecy immaculate whiteness 
 Was changing to gossamer gray. 
 
 The moon looked so pale and so lonesome 
 So slowly it came into view; 
 It probably never had cherished 
 The course it was doomed to pursue. 
 
 And I too sat lone and despondent ; 
 And weary with the work of the day, 
 While conscious that powers eternal 
 Were withering and wasting away. 
 
 [5]
 
 I lingered, and all things grew dimmer, 
 And masses in umber and blue 
 Were grouping around me and heaven 
 Had lost all its color and glow. 
 
 I sat in the edge of the forest 
 Till evening had changed into night, 
 And nature s own mantle of vapor 
 Had hid all its details from sight. 
 
 [6]
 
 THE MOUNTAIN LAKE 
 
 AMIDST the ravage of a mountain scene 
 
 There lingers couched below the hills a lake, 
 
 Its surface shining and its depth serene, 
 
 Where sunbeams sparkle, glow and gently 
 break. 
 
 The headlands fade along the circling shore 
 Until their dismal blue is only seen; 
 
 The glaring sun seems lingering to pour 
 Its wealth of gold upon its glassy sheen. 
 
 The waves that ripple on its rocky breast 
 So softly chant their fairest melody, 
 
 And lull the wildest mountain scene to rest, 
 And charm the heart of nature and of me. 
 
 The pines that grace the margin of the deep 
 Are mirrored in the glassy chasm below; 
 
 And thousands trembling leaflets daily peep 
 To see how fast and charmingly they grow. 
 
 Thou notest every rush and broken reed ; 
 
 Each stunted flower in thy clefted rock 
 Is mirrored in thy bosom, and their need 
 
 Is written in the pages of thy book.
 
 Lake, thou canst capture heaven s azure blue 
 And hold the twinkling stars in thy embrace, 
 
 And charm the flitting scuds that come and go 
 And veil with clouds the brightness of thy 
 face. 
 
 Whene er I walk the mountains, vale and hill 
 And see the broken, scarred and wounded 
 earth, 
 
 I tremble for a moment, for I feel 
 
 The mighty forces laboring at its birth. 
 
 Then bursts upon my weary tiresome eye 
 Thou, lake, so deep, so still below my feet, 
 
 And noticed only by the watchful sky 
 
 That bathes beneath thy blue transparent 
 sheet. 
 
 O lake, couched in this rugged mountain scene 
 Of titled masses torn by nature s hand, 
 
 Thy waves so blue, thy stillness so serene, 
 A soul within a desolate land. 
 
 [8]
 
 ON EAGLE S WINGS 
 
 ON eagle s wings I fain would rise 
 Above this spinning orb of clay 
 
 To some still nook within the sky, 
 And linger for a brief delay; 
 
 Far from the constant din and roar 
 That greets upon my wakeful ears, 
 
 Far from the faces of the poor 
 
 Furrowed by want and bleached by 
 tears. 
 
 Nor would I there be j agged and torn 
 By thousands who my course pursue 
 
 Nor be the constant theme of scorn 
 By those who differ from my view. 
 
 There would I see the noisy earth 
 As Him, who sits upon the throne, 
 
 With lofty mountain ranges girt, 
 
 And wrapped in never changing zones. 
 
 The scenes below my feet would change, 
 As sea and land would heave to view ; 
 
 And here and there a mountain range 
 Would pierce the canopy of dew. 
 
 [9]
 
 The rivers in meandering course 
 That curve among the many hills 
 
 Are seen to bring to distant shores 
 The waters from a thousand rills. 
 
 The velvet depth of forest green 
 
 With meadows emerald would blend ; 
 
 The ocean with its sunlit sheen 
 Its wealth of golden glory lend. 
 
 But here and there a spot is seen 
 Like ant hills on the grassy lawn, 
 
 As if some gophers there had been 
 
 At work, to dig and heap their mounds. 
 
 Such seem the cities built by man 
 
 To one who views them from the sky : 
 
 Mere heaps of stone and brick and sand 
 That scattered on earth s surface lie. 
 
 Then would I with dismay behold 
 Man s devastation on the ground 
 
 How in his mad ning search for gold 
 He tears the very mountain down. 
 
 And when I saw the earth revolve 
 As if to show its ghastly wounds, 
 
 Then I would make a quick resolve 
 To leave again for lower zones. 
 
 [10]
 
 There would I mingle in the throng 
 
 That work and sleep and come and go, 
 
 And look upon their deeds ere long 
 As deeds of man are seen below. 
 
 [11]
 
 TO THE WORLD 
 
 CAN the pomp of earth bereave me 
 
 Of my sweetest morning dream ; 
 Can all earthly powers save me 
 
 If I lose this priceless gem? 
 Can the mighty men of science 
 
 Change the tide wave in its course ; 
 Can they in their blind reliance 
 
 Rob the windstorm of its force? 
 
 No, till death s cold hand has caught me, 
 
 And my heart has ceased to beat: 
 And my guardian angel brought me 
 
 To the solemn mercy seat; 
 Shall my somber thoughts remind me 
 
 Of a newborn Christian s love, 
 And each silent hour will find me 
 
 Longing like a mourning dove. 
 
 Let a thousand critics cavil 
 
 At the meaning of a word ; 
 Better can the saints unravel 
 
 All the secrets of the Lord ; 
 Trust when storms are o er them breaking, 
 
 And their faltering leaders gone; 
 Build, where earth itself is quaking, 
 
 On a sure foundation stone. 
 
 [12]
 
 Storm and stillness have their season, 
 
 Rain and sunshine have their day. 
 Sometimes in the realms of reason 
 
 All our faith is swept away; 
 But a star of hope will beckon 
 
 To us from a far off coast, 
 And within our hearts awaken 
 
 Longings for the faith we lost. 
 
 [13]
 
 THE STORM 
 
 DIMNESS has shrouded the vaults of the heaven 
 
 Within its veil; 
 
 Storm-clouds like patches of bunting are 
 driven 
 
 Before the gale ; 
 Soon shall be shattered the ominous stillness, 
 
 Calm of a threatening storm ; 
 Nature is waiting expectant, and chillness 
 
 Marks her in motion and form. 
 
 Out on the ocean the billows are raging 
 
 Without abate; 
 
 Forced by the winds they are helplessly wag 
 ing 
 
 War with their fate; 
 Stirred is the depth to its lowest foundation : 
 
 Neptune has marshalled his host ; 
 Tramped under foot are the laws of creation ; 
 
 Hopeless and vain is their boast. 
 
 ,1 
 
 Heaved on the billows a vessel is battered, 
 
 Reeling and tossed ; 
 Torn is the rigging by windstorm and tattered, 
 
 Helpless and lost. 
 See, she is caught in the gurgling eddy: 
 
 Swept by the surges her deck ; 
 Cleaving to cordage, the sailors are ready 
 
 Quickly to part with the wreck. 
 
 [14]
 
 Glorious brig, shall the elements power 
 
 Vanquish thy pride? 
 White crested surges defiantly tower 
 
 High o er thy side? 
 Or shall this ocean avalanche bury 
 
 Deep in oblivion s grave, 
 Stout-hearted sailors we lately saw hurry 
 
 Over the glittering wave? 
 
 No, she has conquered; though frightfully 
 riven, 
 
 Flutters the sail; 
 Lifting the tottering masts toward heaven, 
 
 She braves the gale ; 
 
 True to the helmsman she veers to the wind 
 ward, 
 
 Splitting the scalloping main, 
 Floating her colors and hastening onward; 
 
 Neptune is raging in vain. 
 
 Vanquished and calmed is the wind and the 
 ocean : 
 
 Wasted their force ; 
 Proudly the brig with a steadier motion 
 
 Resumes her course. 
 See how the frolicsome waters are tilted, 
 
 Furrowed and tossed by her breast, 
 Only again to be mingled and melted, 
 
 Never to slumber or rest. 
 
 [15]
 
 Changed has the tempest to radiant splendor 
 
 Its cruel scene; 
 Soft on the wavelet the sun rays now tender 
 
 Their golden sheen. 
 Fleet fleeing daylight a host shall awaken r 
 
 Lighting the night with their sport ; 
 Brightly the Pole star shall twinkle and beckon, 
 
 Guiding the vessel to port. 
 
 [16]
 
 NIGHT 
 
 GOD S peace rests over land and town ; 
 
 His spirit with the blest. 
 From heaven s dome the moon looks down 
 
 To share the earthly rest. 
 
 The glassy river in its flow 
 
 Reflects the distant sky ; 
 The twinkling stars in holy blue 
 
 Beneath the waters lie. 
 
 A cloak of darkness softly shrouds 
 
 The forests and the hills ; 
 A whitening veil of dewdrops clouds 
 
 The meadows and the rills. 
 
 There is a calmness brooding o er 
 The landscape far and near. 
 
 It is within the midnight hour ; 
 All nature joins in prayer. 
 
 And while her majesty at rest 
 
 Is spreading o er the sod, 
 There comes a feeling in our breast 
 
 Of nearness to a God.
 
 The fox can slumber in his hole ; 
 
 The bird can build a nest. 
 O Father, mark each erring soul 
 
 Who has no place to rest; 
 
 And let the stillness of the night 
 Give sweet refreshing sleep ; 
 
 And let the power of thy might 
 Our hearts forever keep. 
 
 [18]
 
 MORNING 
 
 FAINT light of dawn creeps slowly o er 
 
 The prairies and the rills, 
 And beams of light will sometimes pour 
 
 Its glory on the hills. 
 
 All earth seems wrapped in solitude ; 
 
 All nature s fast asleep; 
 By one eternal law subdued 
 
 To sacred order keep. 
 
 A gossamer cloud of morning mist 
 
 Half veils each scattered farm, 
 And gives the scene a dreamy rest 
 
 And certain mystic charm. 
 
 No breezes sweep across the field, 
 
 Nor stir the rows of corn 
 Which, armed with helmet, spear and shield, 
 
 Wait for the coming morn. 
 
 The birds are slumbering in their nests ; 
 
 No rising carol s heard; 
 For all enjoy a morning rest: 
 
 Both man and beast and bird. 
 
 [19]
 
 How welcome is the nightly truce 
 
 The darkened hours decree 
 To sooth: restore a day s abuse 
 
 To nature and to me. 
 
 Now breaks the sun the bars of night 
 
 Far off in dreamy east, 
 And pours a radiant stream of light 
 
 O er the defenseless mist. 
 
 How quick the change from night to day 
 From sleep to restless force. 
 
 No hitch nor tampering nor delay 
 In nature s onward course ; 
 
 And night flees off to her retreat 
 
 And vanished are the stars. 
 But men and beasts awake repeat 
 
 Their savagery and wars. 
 
 [20]
 
 COURAGE 
 
 ONWARD, every day and hour; 
 
 Onward, ever onward heed, 
 Will a foe thee overpower? 
 
 Onward, then, with double speed. 
 
 Bid each coming foe defiance, 
 
 Never fear a human face ; 
 Buckle on thy self reliance 
 
 Though thou art in death s embrace. 
 
 Onward ; never stay to reason, 
 
 About current, depth, or breeze; 
 
 Only cowards, fit for treason, 
 Set their sails to fear and ease. 
 
 When deep sorrows overtake you, 
 And like arrows pierce thy soul, 
 
 When the nearest friends forsake you 
 Onward, onward, to the goal. 
 
 At the cradle leave thy folly ; 
 
 At the tomb thy form of clay; 
 But, O soul, keep pure and holy, 
 
 Onward, to the realms of day. 
 
 [21]
 
 GLOOM 
 
 WHEN fate has spent its wrath in vain, 
 When strife is past and anger gone, 
 
 The shafts have pricked, the lances stained, 
 The heart that bore its pain alone; 
 
 When pride condemns life s only love 
 
 And seeks from agony relief, 
 The vaulted sky grows cold above 
 
 The heart stung with remorseless grief. 
 
 The one who sees far from the earth 
 The outline of an unknown shore 
 
 His friends and foes alike desert, 
 And he is lonelier than before. 
 
 If you have seen new truths and try 
 For faults and errors to atone, 
 
 And seek them with a longing eye: 
 Remember you must walk alone. 
 
 When weights of doubt are sinking fast, 
 The faithless, helpless form below, 
 
 When petty spirits first and last 
 Our only anchor overthrow; 
 
 [22]
 
 When we are forced by subtle mind 
 
 To climb life s straight and pathless slope; 
 
 We leave then faith and love behind, 
 But keep in store eternal hope. 
 
 [23]
 
 THE OCEAN 
 
 LOVELY indeed is the whiff from the ocean, 
 Deep and inspiring to me ; 
 Strong and majestic the sweep of its motion, 
 Frolicsome, reckless and free. 
 
 There is no boundary line to repel us 
 Upon the scalloping main ; 
 There is no milestone or signboard to tell us 
 Compass and highway and lane. 
 
 Wave after wave without rest or cessation 
 Rolls on the wave beaten sand, 
 Showing the sign of a mighty creation 
 Curbed by invisible hand. 
 
 [24]
 
 FROM THE BALTIC 
 
 FAINT and feeble now the isle is fading 
 In the maze of gently rolling waves ; 
 
 In the firmament a star is sinking, 
 
 Smiling on a lonely craft and linking 
 
 Heaven with the deepest Baltic caves. 
 
 Far away the Swedish coast is lifting 
 
 A lone and dismal storm begotten steep; 
 
 And among the clouds the moon is soaring, 
 Looking down upon the sea, and pouring 
 
 Out its gold upon the restless deep. 
 
 We are speechless in the gloom of evening; 
 
 Somber thoughts have vanquished every 
 
 boast. 
 In the distance where the clouds are seeming 
 
 To depart a feeble light is gleaming 
 From a lighthouse on the Danish coast. 
 
 Searchlights on the vessel s stem are pouring 
 Streams of light out o er this solemn scene ; 
 
 Flickering lanterns from the yards are send 
 ing 
 Ghostlike shadows to the deck and blending 
 
 Phantoms with the undulating sheen. 
 
 [25]
 
 Out upon these calm and gentle waters 
 When the angry billows go to rest, 
 
 In the holy hush of midnight hour 
 
 Nature shows her majesty of power, 
 
 Calls forth adoration from our breast. 
 
 Pole star, be a lighthouse in the heaven ; 
 
 Magnet, show a path across the deep ; 
 While we to an unknown port are driven 
 
 By the winds, to their mercy given, 
 Let us softly on our anchor sleep. 
 
 [26]
 
 THE PAINTER 
 
 HE spread the canvas quickly o er with azure 
 
 blue 
 And tinged the fleeting clouds above with golden 
 
 glow ; 
 Then drew the mountains bluish-green, that 
 
 background make 
 For noble and inspiring scenes beside the lake. 
 
 An artist drew upon this ground the forest 
 
 trees 
 That wave their high and noble crowns before 
 
 the breeze ; 
 And tried his skill as best he might upon the 
 
 beach, 
 That lined the distant curving bay with colors 
 
 rich. 
 
 i 
 
 And as he thus pursued his art, the evening 
 
 fell 
 And bade him from his labors part at vesper 
 
 bell; 
 He dropped his palette and his brush and 
 
 sighed relief, 
 And gave the sun in evening blush a parting 
 
 brief. 
 
 [27]
 
 There lingered he ; before his gaze were scenes 
 
 of rest ; 
 
 A gentle smile upon his face said he was blest. 
 A vision of his found ideal had passed his 
 
 eyes ; 
 He went to seek the true and real beyond the 
 
 skies. 
 
 [28]
 
 THE SIGHT OF LAND 
 
 ALL hail the outline in the west! 
 Traced on horizon s somber gray, 
 So dreamlike in the dawn of day, 
 
 New England s coasts appear. 
 
 The vaulted sky descends to meet 
 The ocean crouching at thy feet. 
 
 The Pilgrims landed here. 
 
 While we our westward course pursue 
 The rising sun is lifting now 
 The wreaths of vapor from the brow 
 
 Of our New England hills. 
 
 Behold that scene so wondrous fair, 
 The land, the sea, the morning air, 
 
 So deep our conscience thrills ! 
 
 As into Boston Bay we glide, 
 
 The roaring sea begins to chime ; 
 
 The throbbing engine beats the time; 
 It is their first good day. 
 
 Our souls from solitude set free 
 
 Are joining in the melody 
 Of our America. 
 
 [29]
 
 DAWN 
 
 WAKE up, O earth, put off the slumber 
 
 That charmed thee in the dead of night ; 
 
 The stars of heaven without number 
 Are fading for the coming light. 
 
 But first thee speed a gentle greeting 
 Unto the blushing rays of morn, 
 
 And where these ruling lights are meeting 
 There dies the night ; there day is born. 
 
 Soon flits away the gloomy shadows 
 And darkness from its nightly haunts ; 
 
 While wreaths of vapors from the meadows 
 Are lingering round the distant mount. 
 
 The glow that tints the eastern heaven 
 
 Is gaining on the dusky west; 
 And birds to nightly slumber given 
 
 With morning praises leave their rest. 
 
 The dawn is wrapped in morning glory; 
 
 The foliage tinged with golden red ; 
 But man awakes to work and worry, 
 
 To daily toil for daily bread. 
 
 [30]
 
 Father, wake not Thou our sorrow; 
 
 Each day has enough of pain and strife. 
 Help us begin on each to-morrow 
 
 A nobler and a better life. 
 
 And let each morning sunrise quicken 
 Thy image in this form of clay ; 
 
 No passing cloud forever weaken 
 Our faith in Thee, we humbly pray. 
 
 [31]
 
 ADVENT HYMN 
 
 O HERO, how soon shall the weight of thy glory 
 Astonish the nations from pole unto pole ; 
 How long shall all people discredit the story 
 Of peace upon earth, as the angels have told. 
 All nations shall see what has never been told 
 
 them: 
 The Prince in his beauty that conquers the 
 
 day; 
 
 All nations in concert so humbly adore him: 
 Delivered from bondage ; His glory display. 
 
 O Thou, who hath spoken and laid earth s 
 foundation 
 
 And fashioned and formed all its hills and its 
 plains, 
 
 And marked off a limit for tribe and for nation 
 
 And planted the forest, the flowers and grain, 
 
 How long shall the garden be poor and neg 
 lected ; 
 
 How long shall the thorns and the thistle out 
 grow. 
 
 Oh, break Thou the silence ; come down and 
 protect it. 
 
 Let darkness be vanquished by morning sun s 
 glow. 
 
 [3*]
 
 "Oh, come," is the voice of the spirit now 
 
 pleading 
 
 With groans that forever unuttered must be; 
 "Come quickly," the cry of the saints who are 
 
 heeding 
 The signs of the time and are longing for 
 
 Thee. 
 The storms and the billows grow fiercer and 
 
 rougher ; 
 
 Each sound is so sad and so tinted with pain. 
 Shall the beast and the birds live only to 
 
 suffer ; 
 All nature forever in bondage remain? 
 
 O Zion, arise and go forth in thy beauty; 
 Blow loud in the trumpet the day is at hand; 
 Let each one who heareth do bravely his duty. 
 Resound it aloud, over sea, over land. 
 He cometh! The armies of heaven surround 
 
 Him. 
 He cometh! The Prince who is faithful and 
 
 true. 
 Now hushed are all nations ; they cannot 
 
 ignore Him. 
 He comes with His Kingdom the earth to 
 
 renew. 
 
 [33]
 
 SPRING 
 
 Now spring with its gentle whisper 
 
 Is waking the slumbering earth, 
 And a thousand young voices whisper 
 
 Their thanks for their life and birth ; 
 And restless the little river 
 
 Its stream through the meadows pour, 
 Because it is young; it never 
 
 Was running this way before. 
 
 Now flows so freely the fountain 
 
 Once fettered by ice and snow, 
 And yonder the snow-capped mountain 
 
 Is changing to purple blue; 
 And all that was chained and stagnant 
 
 By winter s deadly cold hand 
 Is buoyant with life, and fragrant; 
 
 Charming on sea and land. 
 
 And leaflets so soft and tender 
 
 Unfold in the balmy breeze ; 
 And tendrils so fresh and slender 
 
 Give grace to the sturdy trees ; 
 And flowers are daily springing 
 
 To sight with their lovely hue; 
 Above them the birds are singing 
 
 God s mercy is always new.
 
 WHEN 
 
 (A Song) 
 
 WHEN morning is breaking at dawn of the day, 
 
 When birdies awake in their nests mongst the 
 spray, 
 
 When plants of all orders with leaflets out 
 spread, 
 
 Give thanks for the dew drops that baptize 
 their head; 
 
 Then comes there a voice from the unknown 
 above 
 
 And whispers so gently : "Our Father is love." 
 
 i 
 
 When storm winds have swept o er the land and 
 the main, 
 
 When foliage is studded with drops of the 
 rain, 
 
 When sunbeams are bursting with luster un 
 told 
 
 And changing the rain drops to diamonds and 
 gold, 
 
 We see through the rain-bow encircling our 
 view 
 
 Our Father above, who is faithful and true! 
 
 [35]
 
 When dimness is veiling all nature for rest, 
 The blush of the evening is tinting the W r est, 
 When darkness is breathing the calmness of 
 
 night, 
 
 And shadows are chasing the sun in his flight; 
 Then whispers a voice: "All is fleeting and vain 
 On earth, but the mansions above shall re 
 main." 
 
 [36]
 
 THE ISLAND OF BORNHOLM 
 
 THERE lingers an island far out in the sea; 
 
 The Baltic is rolling around it; 
 Its hills and its meadows are precious to me ; 
 
 By reefs and by rocks it is bounded. 
 
 There is rustling a river and purling a brook; 
 
 Above them bend gently the willows. 
 The roar of the waves when they strike 
 gainst the rock, 
 
 The chime of the frolicsome billows. 
 
 There memories linger that never can die, 
 Nor fade from my mind forever. 
 
 Oh, cradle, oh, cottage, oh, hamlet so nigh, 
 The banks of the warbling river. 
 
 [37]
 
 IN AFFLICTION 
 
 BY sorrows and trials our spirit grows tender ; 
 They spread o er our nature a mellowing 
 
 rest ; 
 They deepen and widen our feelings and 
 
 render 
 A warmth that can thaw the frost in our 
 
 breast. 
 They warn us, restrain us, and show us a 
 
 limit 
 
 To what our intrepid ambition can gain ; 
 
 They ripen and season our life and redeem it 
 
 From all that is wild and foolish and vain. 
 
 Sorrows and trials have therefore a mission 
 
 Unto the thoughtful not hard to define; 
 Could we but spell out the future fruition ; 
 
 Read in the spectrum they cast on our 
 
 minds. 
 Sorrows and trials, how gladly we flee them ; 
 
 Flee from their presence both early and 
 
 late, 
 Until we rise to a height where we see them ; 
 
 See what is now but apparent to faith. 
 
 [38]
 
 MEDITATION 
 
 How feeble is often the faith we confess ; 
 How flickering, uncertain the hope we possess ; 
 How oft we implore Thee when trouble comes 
 
 on, 
 How seldom adore Thee for what Thou hast 
 
 done. 
 
 How cold is the love that should ever abide; 
 How quickly the fervent endeavors subside ; 
 Yet graceful endurance revealed from above 
 Gives joyful assurance of infinite love. 
 
 So trust we Thy promise and lean on Thine 
 
 arm ; 
 
 In sunshine or storm we will not take alarm. 
 For to whosoever for grace shall apply 
 Thy mercy forever Thou will not deny. 
 
 [39]
 
 MY SPARROW 
 
 O SPARROW, thou hast twittered long 
 Thy chirping ditty to thy mate ; 
 Please change this ancient ragtime song 
 To something new and up to date; 
 
 Or wing thy flight away to where 
 The meadow joins the woodland slope ; 
 There feed upon the balmy air 
 And mingle with the feathered troop ; 
 
 And learn from woodthrush, lark and jay, 
 Or whatsoever clan it be, 
 Some new and joyful note that may 
 Bid welcome thy return to me. 
 
 [40]
 
 TWILIGHT 
 
 THE sun is gently sinking down 
 Behind the woody mountain ; 
 The herdsmen slowly gather round 
 The ever flowing fountain. 
 
 The corn is tilting in the breeze, 
 Dancing o er the meadows ; 
 Drowsy nod the maple trees 
 To the weeping willows. 
 
 Restless waves the smaller grain, 
 Heavy with its treasure; 
 Like the depth of ocean s main 
 Rolls the harvest measure. 
 
 Louder murmurs now the brook ; 
 Song birds faintly twitter. 
 In the ripples long the rocks 
 Sparkling diamonds glitter. 
 
 It is evening. In God s hand 
 We are safely resting. 
 Chilly breezes lull the land, 
 Rock the sleeping nestling. 
 
 [41]
 
 Wreaths of vapor rise and spread 
 Over town and prairie. 
 Life is slumbering; light is fled 
 Like a charming fairy.
 
 WHAT IS BEYOND? 
 
 WHAT is beyond the hazy brim 
 That lines the heaven s fiery hue 
 
 Where sky and water mingle in 
 A very dreary dismal blue? 
 
 My tireless eyes have watched in vain 
 To see the distant dimness riven, 
 
 And pierce this dim horizon veil 
 
 Like curtains hung from eaves of heaven. 
 
 The stork, when autumn s chilly wind 
 Sweeps o er this lonesome Baltic isle, 
 
 Flies far away and stays within 
 The sunny countries of the Nile. 
 
 The swallow, too, can wing her flight 
 Far from these haunts of ice and snow, 
 
 And on the classic fields alight 
 Where balmy breezes ever blow. 
 
 But I, a shepherd, poor and born 
 
 To tend the flocks from morn till late, 
 
 Now feel of all the world forlorn, 
 Chained here by a relentless fate. 
 
 [43]
 
 How common are these childhood haunts ; 
 
 These mossy stones from day to day 
 Unchanged surround these graveyard mounds 
 
 Of fathers long time passed away. 
 
 I ve drawn these never changing lines 
 Of hills that bound my native view, 
 
 And reasoned on their deep design 
 Till, sick of heart, I long for new. 
 
 I will not stay ; I can not rest 
 
 Upon this lonely island spot. 
 Deep passions in my soul protest 
 
 Against such God forsaken lot. 
 
 The die is cast; a fierce resolve 
 To know what is beyond the sea 
 
 Has seized my being and I revolve 
 What fate has yet in store for me. 
 
 [44]
 
 FROM THE DANISH 
 
 SUNLIGHT, with its golden glow 
 Which across the sky is gleaming, 
 
 Darkness, with its starry blue 
 Of the infinite is dreaming; 
 
 Both are servants of the Lord: 
 Both created by His word. 
 
 Lightning flashes in the night 
 
 When the thunder clouds are shifting; 
 Eagles from their lofty flight 
 
 Proud and bold their wings are lifting; 
 Ocean billows, storm and still, 
 
 All are servants of His will. 
 
 Are you sighing night and noon? 
 
 Shows the world the only anger? 
 Are you silent and alone 
 
 With a desert wanderer s languor? 
 Lift thine eyes to heaven s blue ; 
 
 There thy sorrows shall forego. 
 
 He who hears the crying deer 
 
 That has wandered from the fountain, 
 
 He thy longing soul will hear: 
 
 Seek the lost one on the mountain. 
 
 Hear His call, thy wandering cease ; 
 He will meet thee with His grace. 
 
 [45]
 
 THEN 
 
 WHEN life is blighted day by day, 
 
 And patience almost gone ; 
 When we sow curses by the way, 
 
 And reap what we have sown ; 
 
 When we are beat by friend and foe 
 
 In toil for daily bread ; 
 When we have found that nettles grow 
 
 Within the flower bed ; 
 
 When we have learned the brightest skies 
 
 Contain a thunderstorm, 
 And seen the passions in the eyes 
 
 Of the most noble form ; 
 
 Then, life is but a present jest, 
 
 A momentary ill, 
 Which death can silence and arrest ; 
 
 The grave its mission fill. 
 
 [46]
 
 HE was a tramp unknown and feared, 
 Without a home or place to stay, 
 
 The door was slammed when he was heard ; 
 It meant that he must go away. 
 
 On him no human face had smiled, 
 
 No ray of light had reached his soul; 
 
 From day to day he was reviled, 
 Was called a rascal and a fool. 
 
 He roamed about from place to place; 
 
 A fugitive upon the earth, 
 Abused and menaced by his race, 
 
 Till he forgot his human worth. 
 
 His word was rough, his fist was hard; 
 
 He only gave what he received; 
 In him God s image was so marred 
 
 That Heaven s angels all were grieved. 
 
 He slept where fragrant flowers spring, 
 And richly fume the morning air; 
 
 Above his head the birdies sing, 
 
 Around him voices chant their prayer. 
 
 [47]
 
 But he was blind and deaf and dumb 
 To all that charms in human life ; 
 
 Within his heart was only gloom, 
 Around him only pain and strife. 
 
 A bud forever locked and sealed; 
 
 A flower dead before it burst 
 The calyx and its charms revealed, 
 
 Whom nature s law had never nursed. 
 
 Oh, woe to him whom fate has signed 
 To bear the straggler s bitter lot, 
 
 Who never heard a word so kind 
 As woman s sweet "forget me not." 
 
 Oh, shame to you who preach and pray 
 
 About the value of a soul, 
 Yet have not one kind word to say 
 
 To one whose life is without goal. 
 
 Oh, blot of shame to land and town 
 Whose cursed greed has made it so 
 
 That thousand helpless men are found 
 Who have no home or place to go. 
 
 Oh, tell me not of human right! 
 
 I cannot bear your faith, hope, love, 
 When spread before my very sight 
 
 A world of human suffering moves. 
 
 [48]
 
 ON THE BALTIC 
 
 I SAT upon the Baltic beach 
 
 When I was very little ; 
 I had a jack-knife and a stick, 
 
 For I had learned to whittle. 
 
 I whittled out a cow and frog, 
 And gave it to my neighbor; 
 
 I carved a herring and a dog 
 With very little labor. 
 
 I traced upon the Baltic beach 
 Some lovely mermaids dancing, 
 
 And while I drew the form of each 
 The surf kept on advancing. 
 
 It flowed around me where I lay 
 And blotted out my tracing, 
 
 And when I rose to go away 
 A mermaid I was facing. 
 
 "What are you doing, little boy," 
 She said, and fondly caught me; 
 
 "You can my fancy well imply 
 
 And therefore I have sought thee. 
 
 [49]
 
 "You gave me just a splendid chance 
 To help you with my teaching; 
 
 I saw you almost in a trance 
 Intent upon your etching. 
 
 "I tell you, boy, your aim in life 
 
 Can only but dismay thee; 
 Twill only bring you toil and strife 
 
 Unless you now obey me. 
 
 "I tell you, boy, take life with ease; 
 
 Choose happiness and leisure; 
 Spread out your sail before the breeze 
 
 And it will give you pleasure. 
 
 "Oh, let not now thy tender heart 
 Be swayed by moral teaching, 
 
 And take not thou the slightest part 
 In all this foolish preaching. 
 
 "We live but once, and then we die, 
 That s all we know for certain; 
 
 Live while you live and do not try 
 To lift fate s solemn curtain. 
 
 "Feel how the lovely breezes blow, 
 And watch the rolling billows ; 
 
 Note how the ripples come and go, 
 So limpid and so mellow. 
 
 [50]
 
 "There is a charm about the sea 
 Inspires to great adventure; 
 
 If you would choose to go with me, 
 You never would it censure." 
 
 She stood and held me on the beach, 
 
 For I was very little; 
 I had a jack-knife and a stick, 
 
 For I had learned to whittle. 
 
 And thus she spoke in glowing terms 
 
 About her royal splendor. 
 She almost charmed me with her form, 
 
 For I was young and tender. 
 
 How many tempting pictures rose 
 
 Before my childish vision; 
 But duty bid me not to choose 
 
 But quietly to listen. 
 
 I said, "Fair maiden, I perceive 
 Your home is one of beauty, 
 
 But I must have my mother s leave ; 
 You know it is my duty. 
 
 "I must bring home this kindling wood 
 
 I gathered by the water ; 
 And when I bring a brimming load 
 
 She gives me bread and butter. 
 
 [51]
 
 "And if she gives me leave to go, 
 I gladly follow with you ; 
 
 But if she should refuse me, so 
 My last good-by I bid you." 
 
 I never saw the maid again 
 
 Beside the Baltic water, 
 But oft I thought I heard her when 
 
 The waters softly mutter. 
 
 When I am worried and dismayed, 
 And thousand things confound me, 
 
 My thoughts go to the Baltic maid, 
 Who threw her arms around me. 
 
 [52]
 
 EVENING ON THE OCEAN 
 
 North latitude 40 degrees 30 minutes. 
 West longitude 64 degrees 56 minutes. 
 
 NIGHT is falling on the ocean, 
 And its solemn message bears ; 
 Billows murmuring in their motion 
 Call each human soul to prayers. 
 
 While the ship ploughs through the darkness 
 
 We can safe in slumber fall, 
 
 For we know that in its stanchness 
 
 Is the safety of us all. 
 
 And we dream sweet dreams of beauty 
 While night s chilly breezes blow, 
 For we know we do our duty; 
 God the father planned it so. 
 
 [53]
 
 CONSIDER THE LILIES OF THE FIELD 
 
 FAIR are the flowers growing in our garden, 
 Fair the perfume and incense they yield ; 
 
 How many sick and weary hearts they 
 
 gladden. 
 "Consider now the lilies of the field." 
 
 They toil not, spin not, care not for to-morrow, 
 Yet fairer robed than all the sons of men ; 
 
 King Solomon himself could never borrow 
 A robe so beautiful as one of them. 
 
 They have not known the cares of cultivation, 
 Nor trust their lives into a gardener s 
 hands ; 
 
 And therefore is their habit and their station 
 So humble that they grow on desert lands. 
 
 When burned by sunshine day by day till 
 
 faded, 
 They droop their shriveled heads to mother 
 
 earth, 
 They rise again when morning s dew has 
 
 bathed 
 Their tender forms in new and nobler birth. 
 
 [54]
 
 How faithful, persevering is their nature 
 Is seen when they are trodden under foot ; 
 
 They grow again, sprout out with color richer: 
 Unmindful of such insult, they take root. 
 
 Think of the many pleasures they have brought 
 
 us; 
 The thoughts, the many lessons they may 
 
 yield 
 Were known to Him from Galilee who taught 
 
 us, 
 "Consider ye the lilies of the field." 
 
 [55]
 
 TO A POND LILY 
 
 SLEEPING in the winter season 
 In the bosom of the deep; 
 
 Bursting all the bars of prison 
 
 When the spring disturbs its sleep ; 
 
 Floating snow white, pure and dainty, 
 On the surface of the pond ; 
 
 How immaculate and saintly 
 
 Are the colors thou hast donned. 
 
 Lily, thou hast often trembled 
 
 Like some strange unwelcome guest, 
 
 When the stormswept pond resembled 
 Passions raging in my breast. 
 
 Lily, if I should transplant thee, 
 Would thou promise to unfold, 
 
 On my bosom, where I want thee 
 As an emblem of my soul. 
 
 [56]
 
 THOUGHTS SUGGESTED IN THE 
 GEOLOGY CLASS 
 
 ROLL, on in space unending, thou light-encir 
 cled earth, 
 
 Enwrapped in shrouds of secrets who labored 
 at thy birth. 
 
 The pulse beat of all nature is throbbing in 
 thy breast, 
 
 Until at last fruition shall give eternal rest. 
 
 The humble corals toiling midst plaintive 
 ocean s moan, 
 
 So patiently are building the earth s founda 
 tion stone ; 
 
 And when above the billows their crested tombs 
 arise 
 
 An unseen hand is planting the trees of Para 
 dise. 
 
 ? 
 
 The spirit yet is brooding above the trembling 
 
 sphere, 
 And little creatures answer his rollcall, "We 
 
 are here"; 
 And upward they are toiling, so cheerful in 
 
 the strife, 
 To see the unknown spirit that called them 
 
 into life. 
 
 [57]
 
 Both heat and cold are changing; each has 
 
 alternate day, 
 And life and death are meeting each other on 
 
 the way. 
 To fossils and to living are given different 
 
 names, 
 For form is always changing, but life itself 
 
 the same. 
 
 The mountain rock is crumbling and smold 
 ering into sand, 
 
 And with the river flowing to build another 
 land; 
 
 The smallest grain of matter on wildest ocean 
 tossed 
 
 Eternal law has labeled that nothing shall be 
 lost. 
 
 ( 
 
 And where our feet are resting there perished 
 
 in the strife 
 A thousand smaller creatures to give us greater 
 
 life. 
 
 In endless evolution the breath of life reveals 
 The infinite creator, whom form alone conceals. 
 
 [58]
 
 My Soul, toil cheerful onward; dismiss thy 
 
 anxious fret, 
 For as thou art immortal so is there no more 
 
 death. 
 Though are there no fruitions, yet toil we 
 
 gladly on 
 Until we see the unknown in other worlds 
 
 beyond. 
 
 [59]
 
 REFUGE 
 
 To the heart that is wounded and tender, 
 To the soul that is conscious of grief, 
 
 Only perfect assurance can render 
 An efficient and speedy relief. 
 
 All the fancies of witty invention, 
 
 All the follies the world may possess, 
 
 Are not worthy the slightest attention 
 To the one who has tested God s grace. 
 
 Was the wing of the morning me given ; 
 
 Could I flee to the uttermost sea; 
 Could I search out the secret of heaven ; 
 
 I should refuge find only in Thee. 
 
 [60]
 
 PRAYER OF THE DYING 
 
 TARRY angels while I linger 
 Yet few moments here below ; 
 
 Touch me gently with thy finger : 
 Thy real presence cheers me so. 
 
 Loom before me now the portals 
 
 To the infinite unseen, 
 Never trod by human mortals, 
 
 Never open to our ken. 
 
 And I know no way to wander 
 
 When my soul from earth is fret 
 
 To my Father s mansion yonder 
 Ye must safely carry me. 
 
 [61]
 
 REST 
 
 THERE is within the realms of thought 
 A safe retreat from earth s alarm, 
 A sheltered glen where all things charm 
 
 A pacifying temple. 
 Far from the noise of daily mart 
 
 There finds the soul its fond ideal 
 In unity of mind and heart ; 
 
 A gentle voice to soothe and rest, 
 
 While in the land of dreams we nest, 
 Till storms have past, 
 And we at last 
 
 Are quiet with the blest. 
 
 He who smiles when life is waning 
 Him has heaven smiled upon ; 
 
 Like the sunset, glory gaining, 
 He life s victory has won. 
 
 Round his head with age made hoary, 
 
 Burns the evening purple glory. 
 
 [62]
 
 AFTER SUNSET 
 
 EVENING shadows are blending 
 Now with the meadows low; 
 
 Heaven s gray is descending; 
 Lost is its sacred blue. 
 
 Calmness is brooding over 
 Weary exhausted earth; 
 
 Lost is the homeless rover; 
 Lost is creation s mirth. 
 
 Grant us while we are sleeping 
 Rest of the Holy One; 
 
 And when the dawn is peeping, 
 Smiles of the rising sun. 
 
 [63]
 
 THE HOUR OF PRAYER 
 
 SACRED, solemn, deep and soothing 
 Is the evening hour of prayer, 
 
 When the calm of night is brooding 
 O er the landscape far and near. 
 
 Town and prairie share the stillness: 
 
 Sin alone the only illness. 
 
 As the hen her wings is spreading 
 O er her brood and gath ring them, 
 
 So our God is daily leading 
 Us to feel our need of him. 
 
 Deep and silent as a river 
 
 Flows his mercy to us ever. 
 
 Lights are on the altar burning 
 Throwing halos o er the sea, 
 
 There is something in me yearning, 
 Yearning for a word from thee: 
 
 Words to cheer the inner sorrow, 
 
 Words to lead me on to-morrow. 
 
 Through the church s nave are ringing 
 
 Melodies to wonder at ; 
 All the members join in singing 
 
 Mary s sweet Magnificat 
 Deep and restless as the ocean, 
 Prompting us to real devotion. 
 
 [64]
 
 Out upon the wildest prairie, 
 In the crowded business mart, 
 
 There is something like a fairy 
 That has lodged within my heart, 
 
 Filling it with sacred pleasure, 
 
 Earnest of a boundless treasure. 
 
 When the glory streaks have faded 
 From the somber bars in west, 
 
 And the throbbing life is shaded 
 By the tender veils of rest, 
 
 Pleads a voice in accents tender 
 
 For a day s account to render. 
 
 [65]
 
 BORNHOLM 
 
 O ISLAND, where my fathers rest, 
 So bold thou standst with rocky breast. 
 Thy mountain crest like Greeks of old 
 In phalanx firm, though arrow torn, 
 Has faced the north wind s stormy gale, 
 And split the snowstorm s "whitening veil." 
 When morning breaks its gate by force, 
 With blushing face in westward course 
 Has bridged the Baltic Sea with glare, 
 And reached thee, Island wondrous fair, 
 It dyes thy brow with fiery hue 
 By granite crags in purple blue, 
 And sparkles round with deep effect 
 The castles of the "Ryter Knight." 
 
 Hark ! Baltic waves, in murmur deep 
 Yet couched in awe around thy feet, 
 Have tried in vain thy base of rocks 
 To tear away by thunder strokes ; 
 As angry clouds forever tempt, 
 And glory of the sun prevent, 
 
 So does the storm tossed sea by day 
 And night thee, Island, hide in spray. 
 The endless boom of waves that roll 
 And ponderous strike the walls of stone 
 In music from yon fairyland. 
 
 [66]
 
 The waves in "Neptune s Naiad Dance," 
 
 Recoiling, crouched, and fiercely torn 
 
 By rocks and reefs as pickets strown, 
 
 Continue still their warlike play 
 
 And slowly wear the rocks away. 
 
 In thee are precious relics found; 
 Thy very soil historic ground, 
 
 The grave mounds where thy chieftains 
 sleep 
 
 Their prehistoric secrets keep 
 And many heroes moldering bones 
 Beneath thy moss-grown Bouta stones 
 
 Shall never sing their Runic lays 
 
 Again in Viking haunted days. 
 And (Valhals) gods in armor bright 
 Shall no more on thy shores alight. 
 
 O Island, far beyond the sea, 
 
 My thoughts and hopes are still with thee. 
 
 [67]
 
 I SAW HIM 
 
 I SAW him in youth with the glow on his fea 
 tures 
 
 The halo like glory of childhood undimmed; 
 I saw him inquiring of Israel s teachers 
 
 The way of Jehovah intrusted to them. 
 
 i 
 
 I saw him again when in earnest he entered 
 The mission that he was ordained to begin. 
 
 At Jordan the eyes of the multitude centered 
 On him, whom Jehovah acknowledged his 
 son. 
 
 I saw him more clearly when Golgotha trem 
 bled; 
 The power of darkness seemed gaining the 
 
 day. 
 
 O, tell me, ye heavens, whatever resembled 
 This conquering hero that passeth away. 
 
 I saw him at last when from earth he ascended 
 Outstretching his hands o er the faithful and 
 
 few; 
 The cloud of his glory enclosed him and 
 
 blended 
 His train with the depth of the infinite blue. 
 
 [68]
 
 Once more I shall see him go forth in his glory, 
 The prince that is treading the winepress 
 alone. 
 
 Repeat to me often this singular story 
 
 But tell me not when ; let me wonder how 
 
 soon.
 
 WE linger a while in devotion 
 
 To Him who has thought to pray ; 
 Then join we again the commotion, 
 
 The business affairs of to-day. 
 We halt but a moment to bury 
 
 A friend and to honor his name, 
 And back to our business, we hurry, 
 
 To life s ever changeable game. 
 
 As time and as seasons are changing, 
 
 And seedtime and harvest revolve, 
 We always are busy arranging 
 
 A problem we never could solve. 
 We offer our noblest endeavor 
 
 In hope of a cherished return, 
 But only to learn that we never 
 
 Are reaping the harvest we earn. 
 
 Is life then forever a failure? 
 
 Shall the soul which we honor the most 
 Be fated to die as a sailor, 
 
 Who sinks within sight of the coast? 
 Shall all that we hope for and cherish 
 
 Be only delusion, a dream? 
 Shall noble endeavors thus perish, 
 
 And life be a chance and a game? 
 
 [70]
 
 Or is there beyond all these fleeting 
 
 And changeable fortunes us brought, 
 A realm where our cravings are meeting 
 
 A state we so earnestly sought ; 
 A realm where each noble ambition 
 
 Is nourished by kindness and truth 
 In environs with perfect condition 
 
 For life in perpetual youth? 
 
 [71]
 
 WELL OF LIVING WATER 
 
 WELL OF HOLY WRIT 
 
 well of living waters free, 
 
 How often have I drawn from thee? 
 When blazing heat of noonday sun 
 So fiercely on my head has shone, 
 
 1 to thy living fountain sought 
 
 And lingered by thy cooling draught. 
 
 WELL OF NATURE 
 
 There is a well that ever flows ; 
 All flora blossoms where it goes. 
 Though couched in never ending forms, 
 In summer rills and winter storms, 
 It quickens every living thing 
 By the return of every spring. 
 
 WELL OF ETERNAL LIFE 
 
 But far above all earthly strife, 
 
 The fountain of eternal life 
 
 Is pouring forth its streams of bliss 
 
 To comfort him who drinks of this ; 
 
 And be to him a well of hope 
 
 To sweeten every bitter cup. 
 
 [72]
 
 WELL OF PRAISE 
 
 O fountain dear, to thee I long; 
 By thee I sing my sweetest song; 
 By thee life s sweetest dreams I see 
 Unfolded to reality; 
 By thee each stunted bud will ope 
 To flowers of eternal hope. 
 
 [73]
 
 BY THE RAILROAD 
 
 I SAT by the railway watching; 
 
 The flowers were growing around. 
 They elbowed themselves through the pebbles 
 
 The builders had left on the ground. 
 
 The violets blue as the heavens 
 
 A winter night after snow, 
 And daisies as white as the cirrus, 
 
 That floats on the vaults of blue; 
 
 The buttercups also were present, 
 
 They grew on the upper grade: 
 Their glorious bright golden yellow 
 
 A complimentary shade. 
 
 Some reds of the dog rose and mallow 
 
 Completed the color scheme 
 Of a simultaneous contrast; 
 
 You pardon a technical name. 
 
 I picked of the red and the yellow 
 
 And added the violet bright, 
 As alphabetical symbols 
 
 Of primary colors of light. 
 
 [74]
 
 And train after train came puffing 
 And thundering along the rail; 
 
 Mere products of witty inventions 
 Forever offered for sale. 
 
 And earth is so torn and so wounded 
 On prairie, valley and mounds ; 
 
 But flowers are ever growing 
 To heal up her ghastly wounds. 
 
 [75]
 
 BY THE OCEAN 
 
 WHEN your life is lone and dreary 
 Go and sit beside the ocean ; 
 Mark the water s restless motion ; 
 See it angry in commotion ; 
 Note its swell when sad and weary. 
 All thy languor then shall vanish, 
 And to thee a new born vision 
 Linger while you all things banish 
 That have kept your soul in prison 
 And been weariness to thee. 
 Flee shall learning with its reason 
 And thy mind to dreams be free. 
 
 Have you walked along the coast, 
 Listened to the plaintive waters, 
 Wondering at the speech they utter, 
 As they roll and crease the beach? 
 Has the deep and distant roar 
 With alluring awe impressed you 
 And for sympathy addressed you 
 Till you could contain no more? 
 Or perhaps a mermaid caught you 
 In her lurid net and brought you 
 Far away from pier and shore. 
 Once out on the brimming water, 
 Far away from town and trash, 
 From the petty fads and fashions, 
 You will not again be rash. 
 
 [76]
 
 Here in nature s solemn mood, 
 
 With the somber colors shaded 
 
 Subject only to a code 
 
 And the infinite who made it, 
 
 You can feel the force of nature ; 
 
 Listen to her as a teacher, 
 
 Till you feel yourself forlorn, 
 
 Helpless, hopeless in creation, 
 
 Wondering why you should be born ; 
 
 Mocked by endless visitation 
 
 Of an all controlling force, 
 
 Force no mortal skill could fetter 
 
 And no human law control. 
 
 Then throw off the spell that bound you ; 
 
 Set imagination free. 
 
 Watch the firmament around you ; 
 
 Feed upon its majesty. 
 
 See the vaulted sky above you 
 
 Curve to meet the depth below 
 
 Till at last they meet each other 
 
 In a rim of distant blue. 
 
 And one sudden thought must enter 
 
 In your mind with solemn force, 
 
 That you are yourself the center 
 
 Of a mighty universe. 
 
 Have you guessed the pain and sorrow? 
 Have you heard the ocean groaning, 
 Listened to its plaintive moaning 
 Funeral dirge so sad and grewsome 
 
 [77]
 
 For the buried in its bosom. 
 Note the billows angry struggle 
 As they wrestle with each other, 
 Children of a heartless mother 
 Whipped to frenzy by their father: 
 Is there any picture sadder? 
 
 Deeply yet thy mind shall wonder 
 When you listen to its thunder 
 Doomed to flow for endless ages 
 Like a fugitive accursed. 
 Come and listen while you tarry ; 
 Learn the language it is speaking, 
 The redemption it is seeking. 
 Cursed like Cain unforgiven, 
 Always tossed and always driven, 
 Fated to an endless motion : 
 That s the language of the ocean. 
 Deep and strange and sad and lonesome, 
 Thousand spirits in its bosom 
 Seem for freedom to be pleading; 
 And from ebb and tide to rest, 
 Vainly pleading for exemption: 
 Nature s longing for redemption 
 In her palpitating breast. 
 
 Have you wondered at creation, 
 Seen God s majesty revealed 
 In the peaceful correlation, 
 In the elements concealed? 
 Have you felt a solemn peace 
 
 [78]
 
 Brooding in a sunset splendor 
 
 Over nature calm and tender, 
 
 When you coast before a breeze 
 
 O er the softly rolling billows 
 
 And the ocean s rage has ceased, 
 
 And it slumbers calm and mellow; 
 
 When horizon in the distance 
 
 Drops without the least resistance 
 
 Its unfathomable blue ; 
 
 When the deep indented mountain 
 
 Merged below the glittering fountain 
 
 Slowly from the waters grew ; 
 
 When the sun in setting renders 
 
 All things wrapped in golden splendors ; 
 
 Bridged the ocean with its sheen? 
 
 It is time, O soul, to linger 
 
 With a prayer to God whose finger 
 
 Drew this awe inspiring scene. 
 
 Evening conquers with its stillness ; 
 
 Softly vapors with their dullness 
 
 Fanned the billows into sleep. 
 
 It has rested from its cumber; 
 
 Wake not the ocean from its slumber. 
 
 Have you rocked upon the ocean ; 
 Watched the awful depths below ; 
 Seen the maze of mingled colors 
 In their bright transparent glow; 
 Marked the peace that lingers under 
 All this mass of trembling foam ; 
 
 [79]
 
 Felt its mystic power, with wonder 
 Whence these strange attractions come ; 
 Felt the deep appear oppressive 
 If you make a longer stay ; 
 Felt its silence so distressive 
 That you wished you were away? 
 But the spirit of the ocean 
 Has but cold reserve and scorn ; 
 And you linger on its surface 
 Helpless, hopelessly forlorn, 
 Till a sea gull breaks the silence ; 
 Wakes your strange enchanting sleep 
 And in horrid shrieks thus warns you 
 To beware and shun the deep ; 
 Lest some mermaid should allure you 
 To her ultramarine strand, 
 And in tender words assure you 
 That it is a fairy land. 
 
 Have you stood upon a headland; 
 Watched the storm tossed sea below; 
 Seen the surge and resurge weltering 
 In their ceaseless ebb and flow; 
 Hurled and lashed to frenzy driven, 
 Torn to shreds and patches riven, 
 Tossed with wild gigantic force 
 Gainst defiant rock bound shores ; 
 Falling back, impotent, dying, 
 Spray of foam like white wings flying, 
 Only to renew the struggle? 
 
 [80]
 
 Ever more the struggle s on 
 Tween the water and the land. 
 Granite bound the coast line stands ; 
 Bids defiance to the waters, 
 Heedless of the curses uttered; 
 Like a fortress in creation 
 Built by the most high eternal 
 Gainst the lawless and infernal 
 Forces of the nether world. 
 Doomed to chaos unlamented, 
 Curbed by barriers resented; 
 Left to caprice unrepented. 
 
 Stroke by stroke the billows hurl 
 Gainst the rocks their avalanches, 
 Crushed by impact split and curled 
 In a haze of spraying branches ; 
 Wreaths of misty haze like foam, 
 Light of beauty, shade of gloom, 
 Floating on this heaving texture, 
 Feared by many, loved by some, 
 Is this storm begotten mixture. 
 Lift your eyes, enlarge your vision ; 
 Note the breakers in the distance 
 Where a submerged reef s resistance 
 To their wild career is causing 
 All this fierce and wild commotion; 
 Breaks the current of the ocean. 
 Bars of sand and walls of rock 
 Dare this raging tempest block; 
 
 [81]
 
 Which of these shall last the longest? 
 It s the one that is the strongest. 
 Food for logical professors, 
 Crumbs for scientific guessers, 
 Let them tabulate creation. 
 We will leave their speculation 
 And return unto the waters, 
 No uncertain sound they utter. 
 Nature s secret we can cipher 
 In her many mystic caper ; 
 In the falling spray and current, 
 In the wildly rushing torrent 
 We can see her rainbow color. 
 Tis the seal of God s approval 
 Of the covenant he made 
 When the earth was young and tender, 
 Just emerging from the deluge ; 
 Full assurance do they render 
 That the great and boundless fountains 
 Of the deep be no more broken 
 Up and overflow the mountains. 
 A beauty and a joy forever 
 Is the colored bow of promise 
 In the vapor clouds of surges, 
 In the tempest ridden ocean. 
 
 Stroke by stroke the waves are pounding; 
 Granite frame of earth resounding; 
 Music of a brute creation: 
 
 [82]
 
 Forces present and primeval 
 Subject to and in relation 
 To the ever moving spirit. 
 Full of sadness, full of sorrow, 
 Roar to-day and moan to-morrow: 
 Low in note and slow in motion 
 Is the music of the ocean. 
 
 I have heard it ; heard it often, 
 Heard it in my tender years, 
 When I slumbered in the cradle 
 Baptized by my mother s tears ; 
 Heard it when I, wrapped in wonder, 
 Listened to the sailors tales 
 Of their long heroic struggle 
 In the grip of Baltic gales ; 
 Heard it when my mother taught me 
 To be good and go to sleep 
 And beware of charming mermaids 
 That are haunting o er the deep, 
 And the nursery tales of sirens 
 Living long the Danish coast 
 In the memory of my childhood 
 Were the things that charmed me most. 
 
 Have you been upon the ocean ; 
 Stood and watched the dawn of day, 
 Seen the first bright lightning lances 
 Slowly o er the ocean stray; 
 Seen the early flush of morning 
 
 [83]
 
 Deepen to a rosy dawn ; 
 Seen the rising orbit burning 
 Through the slumber bars of gray; 
 Seen the undulating surface 
 Change to an immense mosaic: 
 A display of chromic splendor, 
 When its fiery flashes render 
 Sky and water incandescent, 
 While their heaving, tossing surges 
 Bear aloft their snow white crescents, 
 Only to be plunged and buried 
 In the cavernous recesses? 
 
 Has the pomp of earth bereaved you : 
 Left you lonely and forsaken? 
 Go and tarry by the ocean ; 
 With its spirit you may reckon. 
 It will tone you to adventure. 
 It can hush the woes of mortals 
 By its deep and sullen moanings ; 
 It will lap the beach around you. 
 It is frolicsome, erratic, 
 Independent, democratic, 
 In its hurlyburly fashion. 
 It is lulled into submission 
 When the word of peace is spoken 
 And the windstorm s force is broken. 
 It will spur you to decision 
 By its far extended vision. 
 
 When the flocks of sea gulls gather, 
 
 [84]
 
 One can see against horizon 
 Glints of swiftly paddling pinions. 
 They are wild and wanton prophets 
 Stormbegotten without license; 
 Harsh and threatening is their minion 
 When the storm is on the ocean. 
 
 Have you lingered by the ocean, 
 Watched the tide waves ebb and flow? 
 Have they brought a lesson to you 
 As they ever come and go? 
 Can you sit and see the surges 
 Rising from the mystic deep, 
 Without growing sad and thinking 
 Of the sacred law they keep? 
 Then the waves have lost their mission, 
 Pointing to a shore beyond, 
 And the heart has lost its vision 
 Of another fairy land. 
 
 Often dreamed I by the Baltic, 
 Listening to its sad lament, 
 Till some spirit of adventure 
 Would my idle dreaming censure, 
 Though it never could prevent. 
 But upon the great Atlantic 
 With its heaving so romantic 
 
 [85]
 
 I had only one intent: 
 Soon to be across the ocean, 
 And to view the restless motion 
 In the far off Occident. 
 
 [86]
 
 IMPATIENCE 
 
 i 
 
 How long shall I wander so mournful and sad 
 In search of the pathway I lost? 
 
 How long shall I patiently cry unto God 
 For that which I long for the most? 
 
 Forgive me, O Father, if sometimes I err, 
 Some clay may be harder to mold. 
 
 When Thou hast obstructed the path I prefer 
 My soul grows so helpless and cold. 
 
 O Thou who hast purpose in training us here, 
 
 In teaching us patient to wait, 
 Uphold me if sometimes I almost despair 
 
 To trust Thee both early and late. 
 
 [87]
 
 TO THE TWENTIETH CENTURY 
 
 SEE, a streak of light is beaming 
 
 Just beyond horizon s brim ; 
 Heaven s arch is dismal seeming, 
 
 Moon so darkened, stars so dim. 
 Oh, I wonder, is it twilight ; 
 
 Is this glowy streak a frown 
 From the sun forever setting; 
 
 Or, please tell me, is it dawn? 
 
 Faith hangs low above the meadow; 
 
 Hope is fluttering round the hills ; 
 Birds are flocking to the willow 
 
 Weeping o er the drying rills. 
 Men are seeking for employment ; 
 
 Rich men storing up their gold. 
 Lord, before the storm shall strike us 
 
 Gather us within thy fold. 
 
 Tell me, leaders of the masses, 
 
 Molders of the thoughts of men, 
 Does this unrest mong all classes 
 
 Still more favored times portend? 
 Or is this distress foreboding 
 
 Of a coming chaos wreck 
 Of our boasted institutions, 
 
 Just for blinded leaders sakes? 
 
 [88]
 
 Yonder where the crested mountain 
 
 Lifts above the clouds its dome, 
 Breaks the light beams from a fountain 
 
 Of all ages yet to come. 
 Oh, ye sons of toil, be cheerful 
 
 To the cause of freedom true ; 
 For it is the glow of morning 
 
 That is beckoning to you. 
 
 [89]
 
 FAITH 
 
 THE hand of the Lord is on me ; 
 
 The sign of the cross I bear; 
 The power of truth has won me, 
 
 I look toward the blissful shore. 
 
 To live is my soul s ambition 
 As worthy the place I hold. 
 
 How strange is a saint s condition 
 Alone in a sinful world! 
 
 I look to the heights of heaven, 
 And down to the depths of crime ; 
 
 A freedom is to me given 
 
 To choose for an endless time. 
 
 Where er I on earth may travel, 
 
 In every clime or state, 
 My conduct shall there unravel 
 
 The strength of my Christian faith. 
 
 [90]
 
 TO MY FELLOW WORKMEN 
 
 WORK, fellow, work, while the sunlight is round 
 
 thee; 
 
 Soon comes the evening with rest ; 
 Heed not the idler that seeks to confound thee : 
 Make him an unwelcome guest. 
 All things most precious to human existence 
 Come by the efforts employed; 
 They are but hid in the gloom of the distance 
 Some day to be fully enjoyed. 
 
 Work, fellow, work, there is blessing in labor ; 
 
 Brings out the noblest in man ; 
 
 It is a duty we owe to our neighbor; 
 
 Help him whenever you can. 
 
 All things are mastered by human endeavor, 
 
 Wisely directed, discreet; 
 
 Let not thy folly and idleness ever 
 
 Rob thee of birthright so great. 
 
 Work, fellow, work, for the day of fruition 
 
 Comes with its joy and relief, 
 
 And the assurance of fulfilled commission 
 
 Makes all thy struggles seem brief. 
 
 Lose not thy birthright of freedom, but rather 
 
 Make it most sacred of all, 
 
 Lest you should fall and thy end would be 
 
 sadder, 
 Sadder than serfdom withal. 
 
 [91]
 
 ALWAYS JOYFUL ON THE WAY 
 
 (From the Danish) 
 
 ALWAYS joyful on thy way, 
 
 That is upward tending; 
 Even first the goal you may 
 
 Reach when life is ending. 
 
 Powers of darkness never fear; 
 
 Stars thy path will lighten; 
 Mindful of thy Savior s prayer, 
 
 They shall never frighten. 
 
 Fight for all that thou hast, dear; 
 
 Die if it is wanting; 
 Then to live is pleasant here, 
 
 Death itself enchanting. 
 
 [92]
 
 LOST IN THE WOODS 
 
 SHOW me the path, for it is getting late; 
 Darkness like Goblins crouched beside each 
 
 tree; 
 
 The lonely bird calls to her distant mate; 
 But I am lonely, no one called me. 
 
 I feared not once, for I was counted strong 
 In self sufficiency and foolish pride ; 
 I loved to boast and place myself among 
 Those who the object of all fears descried. 
 
 My strength is weakness now I ve stooped to 
 
 learn ; 
 
 My days are numbered too, I know full well ; 
 And doubts beset me everywhere I turn; 
 So right from wrong I scarcely now can tell. 
 
 How small I feel myself left here among 
 The giant pines, girt with enduring strength, 
 They domiciled on earth when it was young, 
 And know its compass, marked its breadth and 
 length. 
 
 But I m of yesterday and scarcely know 
 Which way shall lead me on to my abode ; 
 The stars alone seem fervently to glow 
 Above my head and stir my passive mood. 
 
 [93]
 
 Straight is the way to heaven, as we gaze 
 On stars that stud the vaulted firmament ; 
 But here on earth a labyririthal maze 
 Impedes our steps and distant views prevent. 
 
 We fumble on in darkness and remorse ; 
 We clutch at every straw that blows our way ; 
 And leave the straight and narrow path because 
 The pride of life is leading us astray. 
 
 Lead me again to where my feet are safe ; 
 Embrace me once and I shall feel secure ; 
 This favor my bewildered fancies crave. 
 O soul of nature, do not thou demur. 
 
 [94]
 
 TO MY BIRD 
 
 FLY, birdie, fly from the snare of the fowler; 
 
 Fly, birdie, fly, for the hunter is seen; 
 Be not deceived by his thousand devices. 
 
 Birdie, be wary and keen. 
 
 Watch, birdie, watch on the prairie and 
 
 meadow ; 
 Trust not the things that seem harmless to 
 
 thee; 
 
 Think of the nestlings far off in the hedges 
 Twittering their first A. B. C. 
 
 Haste, birdie, haste to the side of thy cradle ; 
 
 There you can warble thy nursery song, 
 There you can rock in the soft waving breezes ; 
 
 Grown are thy young ones ere long. 
 
 Then you can sweep over prairie and wood 
 lands ; 
 
 Speed on the breezes thy sweet melody. 
 Birdie, when will you return to the hedges? 
 
 Birdie, return unto me. 
 
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