THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES THE I10CKY MOUNTAINS AT SUNSET, OTHER POEMS. BY MRS. HATTIE ALMIRA REED. BOSTON : PUBLISHED BY B. B. RUSSELL, 55 CORNHILL. SAN FRANCISCO : A. L. BANCROFT & CO. I873- Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1873, BY MRS. H. A. REED, In the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington. BOSTON : RAND, AVKRY, & Co.j STERKOTYPERS AND PRINTERS. P5 MY BELOVED DAUGHTERS, JOSIE AND LILLIE, IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED BY THEIR MOTHER. 7598C2 CONTENTS. PACK. THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS AT SUNSET ........ 7 EARTH I ... 12 THE SPECTRE UAND 16 QUICKSANDS 21 DOWN IN THE VALLEY 23 A MESSAGE 24 THE DAY is BRIGHT 26 DEAD 23 THE LOST CHILDREN 33 LINES ON THE DEATH OF MRS. DE SOTO, BURNED SEPT. 3, 1872 . . 06 JEANIE 38 THE SEA .- 40 BEAUTIFUL TRESS 41 MORNING 42 A POEM 41 UNDER THE SNOW 43 PEACE 48 MEDITATION SO MY MOTHER'S GRAVE 02 To-Mouuow o-t THE AURORA BOREALIS 55 THOU ART NOT HERE 59 WAITING 61 ADDRESSED TO DEITT 64 A LAMENT 71 To LITTLE LIDA 78 A DREAM SO SOLILOQUY 86 CAST UP BY THE WAVES 88 LINES ON THE BIRTHDAY OF A FRIEND 91 DAY 93 How MANY: SILENT VOICES! . . . .96 IN EXILE ',><; THE MINE SHINES BRIGHT loo PARTED 1- LIFE AND DEATH 1'iT MIDNIGHT .... J""^ - lo'j THE SUICIDE no A 1'OKM ON THE SEA 112 SOLD lit THE OLD CHI-RCII 117 THE APACHE H9 5 6 CONTENTS. PACE. MELODY 123 MARIA 124 THE BURIAL 125 To MY BELOVED DAUGHTER LILIJE 126 COME UP HIGHER 12? ON THE SANDS 129 LYING Low 131 SUMMER ' .132 MUSINGS 133 IN DARKNESS ." 135 DOWN THE BRIGHT KIVER 136 MELANCHOLY 137 AN IDYL 138 No MORE 139 GOOD-NIGHT 140 AT KEST Ill WHAT THE MOON SAW 142 LOST 145 A DYING HYMN 146 AN AUTUMN DAY 148 RAIN 149 A FRAGMENT 150 NOWHERE TO GO 151 ON THE BANK OF THE PLATTE 153 To A STAR 155 SPIRIT or GRACE 158 THE BLOOD OF CHRIST 159 A VISION 100 DAWN 162 NORA 164 PARTED 174 DEAD 176 THE MORNING-GLORY 179 CHANGES 181 IN VAIN 183 THY WILL BE DONE 186 COME BACK Iy7 A THUNDER-STORM 188 ROSES .189 THOU DIDST FORGET 101 THE WATCH-TOWER Iu4 A MIDNIGHT DREAM 201 DECORATION-DAY 203 DECORATION-HYMN 204 THE VOICE OF NIGHT 205 IN THE LONG-AGO 20S UPON THE HEIGHTS ...' 209 THE SIERRAS 210 DOLOR 212 TO JO.SKl'HINE _ 214 THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS, OTHEE POEMS. THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS AT SUNSET. SEE how yon sky is draped with gold, With shining purple and crimson robes, Mist-like in form, that far upward stream In the track just traversed by the blazing sun, Which smiled ere he retired ! And this Must be the reflex of that smile. He dimpled the heaven's fair face Until it shone with thousand wiles ; He crowned the eternal snows with soft, roseate hues; Or, creeping over them, he left a blood-red glow On each frozen, glacial brow, which ever Smileth back to meet his parting glance. See yon gray peaks, shut in By massive folding clouds, changing and mysterious ! 8 THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS AT SUNSET. While between their billowy rifts there peep Long silver belts, all studded with sapphire rays, Fringed with amber, or the deeper glow We see reflected on the lake's unrippled bosom When at night the newly-risen moon Smiles far down in its shadowy depths. Along the lines where stretch the lower hills Blue lights quiver ; and the shadows flit Up from the hollow gray, now flooded with Prismatic light, engendered by the roll of fleecy waves Along the margin of the heavier mass. Oh ! could we but prison the changing opal's gleam ; Catch the coruscating diamond's fire ; Grasp the sunbeam, and from its gold extract The finest germ of all its beauty ; And gather from the glittering moon that looketh down One beam that could, with its transcendent glow, Outshine all others ; Pluck the green from the sounding Ocean's wave ; borrow from the stars their splendor, Mingling the essence of all brightness with A rainbow, that a token is of God's promise ; THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS AT SUNSET. Then cast them forth against the radiant sky, Might they not melt like shadowy mist away Beside the glory that o'erhangs the western gates, While, perchance, unseen spirits unbar the portals grand, Fold back the glittering drapery that enhanced The dazzling radiance of the sun, to witness His triumphant exit and his last good-night? Oh ! can heaven be fairer ? Can the golden streets, All traversed by that immortal throng, whose robes of Avhite May even now sweep down in wavy fold, And be a portion of that strange glitter ; That hang up before my vision like a veil, Dimly revealing what glory may be ours, When, divested of these earthly garments, We lie down to sleep in everlasting peace, Can radiance of that land exceed This which now dwells upon the heavens, And glimmers in its massive grandeur o'er the earth, Which might, perchance, be likened in its beauty To the jasper sea of God's eternal city, Where night never falls, nor day ? If if be fairer, will not the soul 10 - THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS AT SUNSET. Be dumb forevermore, nor dare to lift The yearning vision up beyond this pale light's glim mer ? Father ! hear thy sorrowing child, And let this scene majestic fill my soul With such thoughts of thee, thy tender love and care, That I may walk the earth as one treads a strange land, But ever sees beyond unfading shores, All girt about with that immortal light Which falls upon me now with radiance holy. 1 pause ; for slowly coming o'er the hills I perceive the twilight hour in sombre vestments clad. The clouds begin to break, and float away Into some mysterious realm ; while Darkness stealeth o'er all the earth, And from out the descending ni^ht O O Come shades which will not bear Day's garish light, and which fall upon my spirit With foreboding gloom 'mid all the viewless things That are abroad, hiding their presence in the dim night. Methinks I hear the faint rustling TIL K ROOKY MOUNTAINS AT SUNSET. It Of their snowy pinion, And catch the sound of their departing steps Through the soft wind's murmur. But I sit as one girt about with a sweet dream,' Which semblance bears to realities strange and dim, Ever haunting mo, of some far-off shore That I sailed past, and caught faint gleams Of its immortal brightness ; while, glittering In its midst, I saw a sea, broad and grand, Lying underneath a holy light engendered not By sun nor moon, nor yet of stars, But was a reflex of that glory that surrounds The great white throne. It flooded, too, The pearly gates that shut me out. Lo ! I sailed past into the shadowy world Beyond ; but, while I wander 'mid its clouds, I still behold such token of my Father's splendor, That my rapt soul will evermore retain The radiant vision, and, through And through all the years to come, will deem It but a type of that glory which no mortal eye beholds, But which awaits us on von deathless shore. 12 EARTH. EARTH. WITHIN the bosom of old Mother Earth from whence we sprung, Where Promethean heats generate, and melt The massive rocks into a molten glow Like one vast crucible, resolving the elements into form ; Upheaving mountains, from whence volcanic fires Belch forth, and pour their dreadful floods Adown the plains in one continuous stream, Sending sulphuric vapor out upon the air, And smoky clouds up to the sunlit heavens ; Whose awful voice thunders far above the ocean's roar, When tempestuous winds into fury lash the waves That coruscate and gleam with lights reflected From varied forms and hues prismatic ; In voluted caverns, whose labyrinths wind Underneath, the mountains lift and bend EARTH. lo To unknown regions, where calcareous pendants hang, Wearing shape and form no art can imitate ; And stalagmite, presenting to the eye figures Clothed with the aspect of humanity, Which ever keep a seeming watch, Like sentinels frozen into everlasting silence. Here deep, still lakes repose, unrippled, cold, and limpid, Which, perchance, are fed by crystal drops Of melted snow, that slip slowly through Creviced granite and Jurassic beds ; And the rivers underground, that swiftly sweep, Terminating in boiling caldrons, whose rumblings low We hear, like the distant thunder's mutterings ; The eternal mountains, that hang above the hills In vastness and sublimity, From which the out-cropping gold is garnered, Or carried by the ever-changing currents down Through rugged gorges, overleaping cliffs, Resting in the huge bowlder's niche, Or buried 'neath the yellow sandstones, where Deciduous leaves and earth cretaceous shall hide it, Until some exploring mind, drawn thither 14 EARTH. By magnetic power, shall disembowel it From its resting-place ; And buried 'neath the crust and mould That germinate the tiny seeds, from which Unnumbered blossoms spring to life ; And mighty forests, iiitwining their gnarled roots Round igneous rocks, reaching down through soft Beds of marl and earth erosive, feeding oif the sili- cious mass, And drawing sustenance from deposits that roll Down the mountain-side, and are formed By atmospheric influence into soil alluvial. Underneath granitic beds drops of carbon Are resolved into adamantine hardness, And repose through all the silent ages, Until Nature, as if wearied of her hidden jewel, Disgorges it in some convulsive moment, Leaving it uncovered on the gleaming sands, Over which clear, limpid waters flow, until The placer-miner plucks it from its shining bed, Barters it in traffic, when it is borne From land to land, cut and fashioned, And girt about with golden bands, which, Perchance, may deck the brow of monarch. EARTH. 15 O Earth ! thou dost bear within thy bosom Secrets which no eye can penetrate, No mind can comprehend. What beauty Rests beneath thy fertile soil, Whose blossoming flowers perfume the air, Whose surface teems with life and joy ! What sublimity ! what power ! The hand That rolls back from the ancient mountain's brow Its enshrouding mysteries, and bids The leaping water carry on its breast Each herald of its greatness, upheaving From old Ocean's bed the sounding shells ; And gives power to the coral insect, power To rear its palace within the watery caves ; And keeps the sun to its appointed course, And the stars in the vast illimitable dome above us, None can comprehend its workings, until, perchance, Death shall draw aside the veil, and the spirit, Purified from earthly dross and pain, Heaven's nearer glories shall behold. 16 THE SPECTRE HAND. THE SPECTRE HAND. SEE this lily pale, this lily fair, All girt about with beauties rare I I plucked it from yon vale, just where, Beneath the shade, the winding stream Reflects in its depths a stray moonbeam ; And glitters there, too, a starry gleam. On this gemmed couch the lily lay, So fair and sweet, it seemed to say, " I bloom for night, and not for day." Embossed with gold, embossed with green, Oh ! never fairer sight was seen Than this lily asleep in its velvet sheen. On swept the waves with musical plaint Past the spot, where, like some sweet saint, It lay inwrapped with odors faint. THE SPECTRE HAND. 17 Slow sailed the moon far above ; Yet it seemed to look down with eyes of love, Veiled in clouds like a white-winged dove. Thou wert like a ghost, O lily pale ! Rising from out the fragrant vale Where the waves keep up a plaintive wail. For when over the moon there drifted a cloud, Misty and white like a spotless shroud, And the wind found voice to shriek aloud, O'er thy waxen petals there hovered a hand, On shadowy finger there circled a band, A golden hoop on the shadowy hand. On a dimpled finger that ring I placed In years agone, while I fondly traced The blush that mantled thy modest face. A jewel it bore of rarest mould, Like a lily fashioned in bed of gold. Encircled all with opaline fold. 18 THE SPECTRE HAND. Above this lily there gleamed to-night On the spectre hand so wan and white That jewel rare in its glistening light. "What dost thou here, O spirit pale ? Why hauntest thou this fragrant vale Where the waves sweep by in plaintive wail ? I left thee asleep where the daisies bloom, To wander afar in despair and gloom : Why comest thou up from thy lowly tomb ? Where spring the fragrant grasses ; Where the river flows ; Where, in shining masses, Blooms the pale primrose ; And the purple dasies Are nodding in the breeze ; And the freckled lilies Droop their emerald leaves In the limpid water ; And the bindweed weaves Around the wooded altar, And to the willow cleaves ; THE SPECTRE HAND. 19 While the clouds of gold, Flushing all the heavens, Hang down in massive fold Before the gates of even, Barring from our view The pearly streets, the jasper, The city ever new, Flying ever faster Across the bending blue, Until the solemn Night Cometh down the mountain, And with her shadowy light Veileth tree and fountain. Art come from city whose walls are bound With jasper and pearl, and girt around With immortal light, and glory crowned ? Ah, sweet soul ! come not here. I saw thee lie on thy sable bier, Cold and dead, yet shed no tear : For I pictured thy soul in its upward flight ; And the gates that shut thee from my sight Oped, methought, into worlds of light, 20 THE SPECTRE BAUD. Where lies a silver sea, Placid, broad, and grand, Begirt by emerald shore, Begirt by emerald strand, A city with twelve gates : The gates are wrought around With sapphire and with pearl, With amethyst all crowned. Why comest thou from that world of bliss, In spectre form,, to the shades of this ? Findest thou aught up there amiss ? See ! the moon is hid in cloudy white : Oh ! plume thy pinions for backward flight ; Retire, sweet shade, to yon realms of light. For loud moans the wave ; The wind moans aloud : Across the moon's disk There lieth a white cloud. I have plucked the pale lily : . To me it is a token Of the hand that bound us, Death left unbroken ; QUICKSANDS. 21 For, reaching far from heaven, I discern a spirit-hand Through the gates of even, The invisible band That will our souls unite In yonder deathless land. QUICKSANDS. JUST where the surf foams on the pebbly shore When the surging tide rolls in ; And through a chasm by tempests rent, Where it beats with unceasing din 'Gainst rocky sides, all hollowed out With the whirlpool's rush and eddying rout, Here the treacherous quicksands sleep Like shining grains of yellow gold ; And bars of white sunshine all softly creep Across the gray and lonely wold That is swept by winds and tidal-waves, Which come, perchance, from ocean-caves. 22 QUICKSANDS. And these glittering sands slowly ingulf, Their treacherous beauty 'neath, The unwary footsteps that venture on, And mercilessly round them wreathe ; Drawing them down in their pitiless deeps, Creeping o'er them in pitiless heaps. And thus in life. I one day roamed 'Neath summer suns and summer skies, That aspect wore almost as fair As the golden streets of paradise : And the quicksands of life so smiling lay, All robed with glamour that happy day, That with faltering step I ventured nigh, Lured by the evanescent light Which beamed on me, as stars that shine On the ocean's bed at night ; But all that was prized the most by me They slowly ingulfed with mocking glee. DOWN IN THE VALLEY. 23 DOWN IN THE VALLEY. DOWN in the valley where the swift waters flow ; Down in the valley where the wild roses blow ; Where the moon is rising like a fair young queen, Flecking all the woodland with her silvery sheen ; Down in the valley, where the night-winds at play Rustle all the fern-leaves, like fairy-feet astray ; Where the singing water leapeth all the night O'er the yellow sands, a band of liquid light, Ellen lies asleep : around her form of grace A snowy shroud inwrappeth ; around her marble face A rosebud- wreath intwineth ; on her pulseless breast The folded hands are lying in one unbroken rest. Upon the heavens I gaze. One blazing star Shoots from its orbit into unbroken space afar ; A cloud veils the moon ; the brightness of the night Wan shades ingulf ; but a belt of starry light 24 A MESSAGE. Crowns all the heavens. Methinks Ellen dwells Behind that radiant splendor that nightly swells Into floods of glory up in. worlds of light, Placid, grand, serene, beyond mortal sight. A MESSAGE. ON snowy pinions, sweet dove, Fly afar for me The swelling tide above Of yonder restless sea. Float not near the cloud That crimson hangeth down, Flaunting its banner proud, Wreathed with purple crown. 'T would robe thee in its fold, O bird of snowy wing ! Soaring through the misty gold That round the sunbeams cling. A MKSSMtE. . 25 Fly, swift, sweet clove, oil ! fly To yonder sunny land. Around thy tiny throat I'll tie A sheeny silken band : Amid its folds shall lie Of hair a yellow strand. This token bear, sweet dove, Swift as the morning star Dims in the heavens above : Oh, fly thou afar Unto a summer land, O bird ! Girt by tropic blooms, Where pale shades and weird Sleep in the cavern's gloom. Pause not in the midnight hour Beneath the glimmering moon, Pale with mysterious power : But thy white pinions plume For the ancient land, the golden, Bound by the silver tide; While the happy hours, the olden, Softly forth do glide 26 THE DAY IS BRIGHT. From a chamber silent and dim, From deathless memory's hall, Like harmonies creeping in That on my spirit fall. Then away, sweet bird ! fly away Where one awaiteth me, In the mystic glamour' of a day, Over the restless sea. THE DAY IS BRIGHT. THE day is bright. I'll gang to the hills ; I'll gang to the mossy glen, Where saft and sweet the dancin' rills Are singin' a song I ken. The loch is shiuin' lik' yellow gold ; The hedges are bright and gay ; The purple heather shines on the wold, The sun on the fields o' May. THE DAY IS BRIGHT. 27 Oh ! sair is my heart ; mine eyne are dim Wi' weepin' in the nicht, When the mime is pale 'round her golden rim, And the stars in the heavens, sae bricht, Twinkle and twinkle. Oh, my hive is dead! And saft the nicht- winds blow ; The wild rose scatters its blooms o' red, The hawthorn its blooms o' snow. But I'll dry mine eyne ; for the day is bright, And the sun shines sweet and fair : I'll take my way alang fields sae light, Though my heart wi' grief is sair. Alang the lane where the buds o' spring Are breakin' into bloom, Alang the lane where the mavis sings All in the golden noon, 111 gither from the hedges the blooms sae bright, White as the driftin' snow : I'll scatter them saft, I'll scatter them licht, Where my luve is lyin' low. 28 DEAD. DEAD. I'VE been dead these many years : Over me go the wheels In wild discordant peals ; The clanging bells ring out ; And the noisy children shout Merrily across the fields. Round and round the raven flies, Dashing up to the bending skies ; Then, flapping his wings, away he floats, Croaking forth his dismal notes. Over my head, by the mossy stone, The seeds expand by the wayside sown, And bud and break into curious bloom ; While up I reach from my mouldy tomb With icy hand, their roots to twine Around this marble brow o' mine. Over me go the wheels ; And through the sunny fields DEAD. 29 The speckled humming-bird Dreamily floateth, unheard By all but me in my mouldy bed ; While harsh and discordant over my head The wild and* clanging bell Pealeth forth a dismal knell. In years agone I shut my eyes To dream an hour away Until the drowsy Day Should don her nightly robe, And all upon the globe Be wrapped in blessed sleep ; While the stars above, that keep Their evening lamps a-trim, Faintly burned, and dim. I awake beneath this mould : Round and round in icy fold Death inwraps rne ; and the wheels Crunching go over the fields. The gold of my hair intwines my feet : No lady in her bower, Dreaming by the hour, Hath such silken sheen In her locks, I ween. 30 DEAD. Seeming I lie asleep ; But I wake, and weep That over me go the wheels, And the clanging peals, And the dismal knell Of a discordant bell. They bound me with a silken shroud, And folded o'er my breast My hands in quiet rest. With the lilies waxen white, And roses rare and bright, They int wined my brow, Resolved to ashes now, All but one tiny pearl Left in my golden curl : My bridal veil, like a misty cloud, Hath melted as cloud away Afar in the field of day. Over me go the wheels ; And through the summer fields The raven circles round ; While dismalty doth sound The flapping of his wings, And the bell that rings. DEAD. 31 There are footsteps overhead Passing with their heavy tread ; There are voices faint and sweet Mingled with the sounding feet. Oh ! pass light, pass slow ; And let your music flow Like the voice of saint away In the realms of endless day. There's one I left in years agone, When I closed my eyes to dream : Oh ! he doth weep, I ween, That round and round the mould Creepeth like a fold Over my feet and hands ; Over the shining strands, The silken gold, o' my hair ; Around the robe I wear. Between us lies a yawning gulf Spanned by icy bridge, Begirt by icy hedge : Its waves are cold and dark ; And the fainting traveller marks Their chilling, awful swell As he glanceth back to tell 32 DEAD. Where the breakers loom ahead, Sweeping round their rocky bed ; But all go down in the whirling tide, Down in the deep, and there abide. Dead, dead, these many years ! Over me go the wheels, Harrowing all the fields. Hark I the bells ring out ; Merrily the children shout ; With heavy tread and slow, Over me come and go The grating sounds of many feet, Mingled with the voices sweet. One step falters in its tread As it passes nigh my bed. There's a rattling sound ; a grave yawns wide; A coffin's lowered close by my side. Now over us go the wheels ; The tolling bell in mournful peals Floats far above the withered fields. THE LOST CHILDREN. 33 THE LOST CHILDREN. THE warld was still ; the mune hung low All 'gainst the western walls ; And swift the f ashin' waters flowed Abune the windy falls, Where lay the snaw so white and braw, Lik' a spotless windin'-sheet ; And gleamin' it lay wi'out a flaw Upon the mountains steep, Abune the cot where twa infants lay Lik' lambkins fast asleep, Or lik' twin rosebuds that in May Abune the hedges peep, "VVT folded hands and folded feet, Wi' ringlets lik' the gold That in the mountain-daisies sleep, Or 'mong the lilies fold. 34 THE LOST CHILDREN. The nicht was cauld ; the winds blew on ; The stars they blinked sae bricht ! The mune, that shone the hills upon, Now bade the waiid good-night. The babes slept on, nae circlin' arm Of mither foldin' round The limbs o' grace ; yet each cherub face Wi' cherub smile was bound. The lips were white, the lips were cauld, And ne'er would babble more Beside the waves that slush and fauld Around Loch Lomond's shore. The morn woke up ; the sun rose high ; The warld was on its feet ; The cauld winds blew, and whistled nigh The infants in their sleep, But waked them nae. Oh ! sweet the twa Must slumber in the cot : * For father's call they answer nae Nor mither's croon sae saft ; DEATH OF MRS. DE SOTO. 35 For a' in the nicht the angels bricht, That dwell abune the skies, Gaed softly by in robes o' white, And closed the babies' eyes. And when the mune gaed quickly down On ither warlds to shine, And the stars that blinked sae braw upon The snaws of winter-time, All in the dark their sinless souls Crossed to the ither side ; And the angels bright in robes o' white Carried them over the tide. LINES ON THE DEATH OF MRS. DE SOTO, BURNED SEPT. 3, 1872. TOLL, bells ! a soul has passed away ; Pray, priest, in stole of gray, Above the casket where the roses lay, 36 DEATH OF MRS. DE SOTO. Above their waxen white. Lift not the lid ; for mortal sight Will start aghast in pale affright At the headless trunk which therein lies, Charred and blackened, with awful guise : 'Tis all that will greet the tear-dimmed eyes. There's no sikefi hair to softly fold Back from the brow in rippling gold, Or bind or braid, as in days of old, With a rose that's white, or rose that's red, And pearl that's rare from the ocean's bed, Or violets sweet by dewdrops fed ; No feet to fold ; no hands to lay O'er her pulseless breast, and softly say, " She seems asleep this sunny day." Oh, nought but this ! The roses pale Lie light upon her, a fragrant veil, That stilleth never the sobbing wail DEATH OF MRS. DE SOTO. o7 Heard in the chancel, heard in the aisle, Where sweet music stealeth all the while, As if angels sang in that sunbeam's smile That lieth on casket, that lieth on pall, And on her grave will evermore fall With the tender grace that gladdens all. O souls that grieve for this one gone ! See ye not her 'midst the shining throng, 'Mid ranks that sing one endless song ? Hear ye not through the clouds the sound Of angel-harps that echo round The gates of gold with jasper crowned ? Know ye not now on golden shore Her feet will falter, ah ! never more, That oft were weary, and bruised sore, As they pressed the flower, or pressed the thorn, Or meekly waited for the day to dawn Which ushered in one endless morn ? 38 JEAN IE. JEANIE. O HITHER ! me heart is verra sair ; But I'll don me bravest gown, I'll snood me silken hair, And gae to yonder town. Snaw-white and braw shall be the rose I'll gither by the way ; Snaw-white and braw the lily blows Where the yorlin croons his lay. The mavis is singin' in the glen Where Jeanie used to sing, Jeanie, that died o' grief, ye ken, Alang the blooms o' spring, Jeanie that was like the lilies' snaw, Wi' a rose o' red on ither cheek, Jeanie, that stately was, and braw, But meek as vi'lets meek. JEAN IE. 39 Jeanie lo'ed : but Jamie was fause, Fause as the fickle wind ; Cauld winter's blast, and winter's frost, Ne'er showin' so unkind. So Jeanie wilted as flowerets wilt Alang the emerant lane : She ca'ed for her kirtle, she ca'ed for her kilt ; And Jeanie's soul was gane. Now, mither, ye ken why me heart is sair; But I'll don me bravest gown, Wi' silken snood I'll bind me hair, And gae to yonder town. Snaw-white and braw shall be the rose I'll gither in the lane, Since snaw-white and braw the lily blows Where Jeanie's soul is gane. 40 THE SEA. THE SEA. THE sea, the. never-resting, solemn sea, That rolls in majesty away, While over countless treasures of untold wealth Its foam-crested billows play ! Against rock-bound coast and sandy shore The sullen tide rolls in and out ; And the wild winds sing an anthem too, As they restlessly roam about. When night descends with gentle grace Over earth and sea and sky, And soft stars glitter and shine, And the round full moon sails by, Then the sea is decked in its fairest robes, And its waves opalescent flow, And gleam with hues of sapphire and gold And the moonlight's radiant glow. KEAU'llFUL IREbS. 41 And the sea ever remorselessly rolls O'er the dead in their silent sleep, And ever will roll, and remorslessly roll, And around them softly creep, Till the trump of God shall call them up From all the earth and lonely sea, And bid them rise, where from death and sea The longing soul is forever free. BEAUTIFUL TRESS. BEAUTIFUL tress, that shines like gold ! Beautiful tress ! The head you deck, The marbled neck That your glittering sheen infolds, The brow you kiss With soft caress, Each yellow mesh That downward floats like silken strands Where folded rest the dimpled hands, 42 MORNING. Beautiful tress on brow of snow ! Beautiful tress! When sorrow comes, Will you whiten then In time's silent ebb and silent flow ? As the years flit by, Will their echoing sigh Reverberating die In Memory's untenanted halls, Soundless, save when the spirit calls ? MORNING. MORN creeps o'er the world with silent step, Trailing her robes of glittering white O'er these ancient hills and ancient plains ; While the mountains gleam with purple light, And grandly tower to the glowing skies, And stretch away in power and might Each awful chain and dark ravine, MORNING. 43 Where the foaming waters madly leap, And ever rush on with sullen roar Through rocky caves, where the echoes sleep, "Winding and creeping, with forces spent, To the lake below, so dark and deep, O'er whose slumberous waves and soundless shore No glorious sunlight will softly creep. But the snow-white pigeon, that- rears its young On the mountain's loftiest peak, Sees mirrored down in its quiet depths Its own spotted wing and crimson beak. When the noonday sun gilds all the earth With its radiant golden glow ; And snow- crystals melt 'neath its burning gaze, And softly glide down to the vales below, Leaving behind them such marvellous blooms As spring to life by the glittering snow, Then, down in the deep and shadowy lake, Wild, rocky cliffs reflected gleam, And lifting clouds float lightly o'er ; While all the glory and glint and sheen That infolds the earth, and infolds the sky, A soft grace lends to the gorgeous scene. And, through all the dim ages yet to come, 44 A POEM. These hoary mountains will ever rise. Till time into eternity shall sweep All that here gather, the old and wise, All mourning souls, and 'those that yearn For the pearly streets of paradise. A POEM. THE poor actor on the stage of life Frets out his feeble existence in an hour, And passes on beyond the gates of death, Where all the rich, the gay, the honored, The old, the young, have laid down in silent rest. But the soul, that germ of immortality, God-given, a part of God himself, Where, or in what silent shades, does it repose ? In this fevered life it ever groped in darkness ; Ever with unsatisfied longings upward gazed, Looking to the light that shines from Calvary's cross. Oh ! could we but peer beyond those realms Where dwell in holy peace countless numbers A POEM. 45 Of souls redeemed, no backward gaze, No thought of death or pain or parting, Could mar the spirit's calm : For on the vision then would burst the light From golden streets and sapphire walls ; And on the ear would fall the sweetest music From angel-harps and angel- voices, ever tuned To praise around the great white throne, And by the jasper sea of God's eternal city. O fair, green earth, with radiant beauty robed ! O still firmament, where yonder stars Glitter and shine, and where the white moon Sails on 'mid cloud all silver-tipped and fleecy ! mountains, that rear your snow-capped crests To kiss the clouds ! 6 mighty ocean, Freighted with costly ships and precious lives ! Ye all, all, will pass away, and from your ruins Rise heavens new, and a bright, new earth. But the little child who smiles and weeps, And is so frail that a rude blast May quench its feeble life, possesses that immortal germ Over which death hath no power. 1 pause in silent awe, and ponder 46 UNDER THE SNOW. O'er this great plan. All fame, all pleasure, so little seem, So brief, so insignificant, That I wonder why we weep and moan O'er such little pains and little griefs. But turn our vision to the blessed light Which at every toilsome step may brighter gleam Into the darkened soul ; and, as Death approaches With cold and clammy touch to crush out the life Of those who walk with us this earthly vale, It may go with us even down to the dark tomb, Which ever yawning stands with open arms, Ready to receive our mortal part. UNDER THE SNOW. UNDER the snow she lies asleep, Under the snow : The wild winds blow, And around her creep, And around her sweep, As they come and go. UNDER THE SNOW. 47 Her folded hands lie still Over pulseless breast Forever at rest, And meekly folded, and meekly crossed ; While I weep for all that I have lost, All I loved best. Under the snow my darling lies cold, Never to know How I weep in my woe That the dampness and mould Her grace doth infold Under the snow ; And the stars shine soft and clear In the azure depths above Like harbingers of love ; And the pale moon sails on, While a cloud has come and gone Like a white-winged dove. But, if under the snow her form lies cold, Under the snow, Her soul, I know, Is dazed by the splendor that greets her sight With its glimmer and glory and shining light, And radiant glow. 48 PEACE. PEACE. ONE day I idly wandered forth : My soul was wrapped in mournful gloom ; And all the fair, sweet earth and sky, And all its blush and all its bloom, Seemed to exhale a melancholy light, Faint and dim as shadowy night. Yet summer airs around me played, Summer flowers around me bloomed, And sunshine gilded all the earth : But it seemed to me like the yawning tomb That mercilessly swept from my yearning gaze The cherished friend of other days ; And I said, " O glad earth and radiant sky ! O summer winds, that sweep Through waving trees and forests old, Rippling the lakelets deep ! O blossoming flowers in odorous vales, And sunshine that leaves a brightening trail, p;-;.i h!!EX*F.lt JO DEITY. Upon its own unrippled bosom. On sandy plain remote, one Awful peak uprises ; and from its hollow depths come sounds As if ten thousand cannons had belched forth terrific fires, and Ten thousand groans issued from ten thousand hearts in agony ; And down its heated sides there rolls in one con tinuous mass Molten lava, which the sickened earth ejects. In cavern too, unlit by sun, her curious hand has wrought such Curious veil wherewith to hide her mysteries ! Some she hedges in "With marble walls, and paves the pathway to boiling caldron With soft, calcareous earth, and illumines her vast domes With pendants white and glittering ; while uprise in gloomy Labyrinths statues weird, all girt about with strange device, Monks in ashen cowl and flowing gown kneel at the altar, ADDRESSED TO DEITY. G7 And nuns in faded garments too, with rosary and beads Counted never, yet looking as if death had overtaken Them there, and chilled them into this great repose. When we with sacrilegious foot would penetrate her inner sanctuary, She unfolds her attendant ranks arrayed in rigid silence To our gaze, so life-like, yet so pale, that one might think That yestereve they walked and skipped about, And shouted to each other, making the caverns dim Resound with their wild melodies ; while from each shining pendant There falls a drop, which, perchance, is a tear shed by Mother Nature For all her children who in secret weep. Only the inconstant wind is a witness to her sighs, as it Invades her realms. O Father, how grand thy works ! the majestic sea, that Sweeps in one broad belt from tropic shores crowned by Summer suns and verdurous blooms, far out to frozen region G8 ADDRESSED TO DEITY. Girt by eternal snows, while its waves surge on past icy domes And gleaming towers cold with the awful breath of a sunless winter, But which sails by like a mighty moving palace in armament Of glittering spears, yet unlike. For never a light shines On moat or glacial battlement, each sentinel keeping watch With hoary head, and eyelids fringed with frost-work, Moveless and grim ; nor sound of voice falls on the ear : Only with awful crash the icy bodies meet like ships in Battle, each concussion reverberating sounds through out Region lone, as if worlds had tumbled into chaotic mass together, Deepening as it rolls away ; while to its echoes the affrighted polar bear Gives answer back, deeming it the distressful cry of mate Upon a distant mountain. Ah ! what is man, that he should cavil SVKn 7O DEITY 69 In his feeble power, and strive to rear his palace on the plains, Or gather from the bosom of thy vast earth her treas ures, Or bestride the mighty sea with mighty ships and Lesser craft ? To-day his purple garments wrap him round : Perchance they drip with blood wrung from widow's heart And orphan's too. What matters it their royal tex ture speaks of Royal wealth, and all behold it? Ere the morrow's sun shall Go down, his costly trapping laid aside, a shroud inwraps him, And a sable pall : while among the heavenly hosts there rises not A song of welcome ; but a wail is heard in other realms, where dwell The lost in everlasting darkness. Oh ! why not seek to wrap the soul Around with those sinless robes donated by a sinless Christ? Why cry against the fallen, ".Unclean, unclean ! " 70 ADDREWKD TO DEITY, When the chamber that inshrines our souls is foul with malice, And rank, evil thoughts, engendered by deceit and deadly envy, which. Spitteth forth its venom till all the air around is laden With loathsome fungus taking root in other minds like rank weeds In some fair garden, blighting all the flowers ? It Chaseth out sweet Charity, until that angel takes her flight forever : Then we turn back aghast, veil our eyes, and rend our hearts With continuous cry for her return. Father, thus thy world moves on. But from Western wilds, from desert plains, and from many a fair green field, From cities vast, is heard humanity's feeble wail, as its millions toil in gloom, In sorrow toil, with grovelling souls that behold not thee on shining heights, O O ' But, untiring, seek amid the world's rush and din to find the jewel thou Holdest in thy grasp. Some souls look up as they pass the boundary-line A L.l.MKXT. 71 That divides life and death, and, with cold, stiffening lips, seek To relate the glorious vision. But to the faithful at last shall Come joy, peace, and rest. So be brave, poor heart ! nor cast a backward glance, Bat far upward raise thy vision to that Land beyond the parting clouds that do but veil its Brightness. A LAMENT. MORN breaks o'er the world how fair and sweet ! While, from the east uprising, The golden sun announces day, The tiny birds surprising That were asleep 'mong the forest-trees In nests all curtained by emerald leaves. The hills wear a crown of sapphire mist ; And the mountains grand and old Above them hang, each brow inhvincd With purple clouds and gold : From the ancient plains that shvlrli away The shadows glide-, so dull and grav. 72 A LAMENT. The dew-drops glitter on the grassy blades In the heart of the opening flowers ; The breeze steals up from the mossy glades Through all the still, bright hours, Wafting to me a fragrance sweet From the budding blue-bells that ope to meet The sun's bright glow, while it lightly unfolds The poppies in their sleep. But the earth that smiles, the flowers that bloom, And the softly murmuring breeze, And the hills that sleep in sapphire mists, And "birds that pipe in ancient trees, Bring no joy to my heart, no joy to my life ; No sunshine's gold can gild its strife. Cold, cold, its beams fall on my soul ; Cold, cold, the glancing rivers roll Sounds in mine ear ; the wild bird's song A requiem is ; while memories throng Of olden days, and my buried dead, Who silently come, and on my head Place a spectral hand, then vanish away Like shadows dim from the light of day. A LA. VI-: XT. 73 No more shall I pause by the restless sea, And list to its wail and moan ; No more shall I wander o'er the sandy lea That girt my childhood home, Or gather from its rocks the lichens gray, Or breathe the fragrance^ of its new-mown hay, Or gather the rosebud from its shining tree, Or pluck the lily's waxen bells, Or chase the butterfly over the lea And down through the woody dells, Or gather the sea-weed when the tide rolls out, Or the ocean shells from the sands about. Here the tempest may beat, or the sun may shine, The flowers may wither, or the flowers may bloom, The birds may pipe 'mong the ancient trees, And the mountains uprise in light or gloom. Oh ! my love lies dead by the sounding sea ; While the waves creep up o'er the sandy lea, And wildly beat, and foam at his feet, Shrouding his grave like a winding-sheet. Once I paused by the ancient sea : The red moon hung on high ; 74 A LAMENT. A blazing star shone red on me From out the midnight sky ; The sluggish tide it crept like blood Beating in wild monotones, "Whelming beneath its sickening flood The lichens that clung to the gray stones. How it curled at my feet, And restlessly beat ! Now whirling back in mad retreat, Then leaping and creeping, Then wailing and weeping Unto the moon, red vigils keeping Unto the stars in the amber sky, Unto the sea in weird tones repeating The echoes that woke on the hills anigh. Wearied I sank upon the fallow lea, And thus addressed the lamenting sea : " O sea ! were yon moon a globe of blood Hung up in yonder sky, And I could cast it in thy flood, And all the stars anigh, O restless sea ! O moaning sea ! What wouldst thou then restore to me?" A LAMENT. 75 But unanswering whirled its mocking tide All over the sea-walls far and wide. Then a song I sang to the sounding sea, Weary reclining on the fallow lea, While the moon shone red on the gory stones, And the waves beat up in wild monotones, And long arms flung like blood-red bands Around and across the yellow sands. I sang, " O sea ! under thy fretful tides One lieth asleep, With the gold o' noon in her silken hair ; And unto her frozen feet The garnered wealth of many years Is piled in glittering heap ; And a coral palace stretcheth wide, And coral caverns deep. " O cruel sea, O lamenting sea, Winding past the fallow lea ! Thy crested billows' swell Soundeth like a funeral-knell ; And thy pink and tiny shells 76 A LAMENT. Seem like drops of blood Under the blood-red moon, Hurled by thy boiling flood Up from her soundless tomb." But the sea, that answered me not, Whirled lamenting by ; "While the stars grew pale and soft Up in the amber sky ; And the moon's red light Resolved to paly gold Its electric flood ; the waning night Drew round in glittering fold ; While the fretful tide o'er the yellow sands, Gleaming, shot like silver bands. And voices chanted on the purple hills ; The voice of bird and bee Mingled with the wind's low trills Unto the remorseless sea ; Across the sky a gold banner hung, Parted by crimson bands ; And sheets of flame far upward flung, Upheld by unseen hands. A LAMENT. 77 While methought from the glory there sprung, Far down to the ocean sands, A presence so sweet, that the tide at my feet Drew back in pale affright : All the sounding sea, all the fallow lea, Quick caught its holy light. And the ocean that rolled o'er curls o' gold, O'er a form o' grace asleep, And the waves that coil in icy fold Unto her frozen feet, Enchain not her soul, now on other shore, Walking the pearly street, With a dazzled vision that discerns evermore The glory at her feet. And up I rose from the fallow lea, Singing no more to the petulant sea That defiantly moaned back to me, But gazed afar, where the rising sun Proclaimed to me a day begun, And all the sea it shone upon ; While green rolled its waves over the stones, Benting about in low monotones. 78 TO LITTLE LID A. TO LITTLE LIDA. O LITTLE hands forever folded ! O little feet at rest ! O soft blue eyes that ope not ! O brow I oft have pressed ! O glossy, silken tresses Lying beneath the mould, Under the ferns and grasses, Under the daisy's gold ! How much of sin and sorrow, How much of pain or bliss, How many a sad to-morrow, Thy baby heart has missed ! O voice whose plaintive music Is hushed forevermore ! O parted lips, and pallid ! My heart is grievdd sore TO LITTLE LI DA. 79 That all the blight and mildew Of death hath folded round ; That all thy grace and comeliness Is mouldering in the ground. But up among the angels Thy spirit wanders free 'Mid the golden streets, the jasper, And by the silver sea. Thy snowy raiment floateth Like a blaze of glory down; On thine angel brow there resteth A radiant golden crown. O hearts on earth that mourneth ! Look up to worlds of light Where angel Lida dwelleth, Hid from your yearning sight. 80 A DREAM. A DREAM. DREAD darkness fell upon my senses, and my Inward vision wandered far out to unknown realms. Before me stretched a plain of inky blackness, Where no flower blossomed, no dews fell ; But swept by one continuous "wind, whose Clammy breath ever bore the slimy essence That may come forth from charnel-house, Or yawning grave where human bones Lie rotting. Through all the plains there rolled A sluggish stream, whose waves slow hissed, And bubbled up o'er rocks that lay like Mountains in their midst ; and lakes like Cesspools lay, deep and black, which the Clammy winds disturbed not ; "Whose banks shot up devoid of living thing, Of shrub or tree devoid, and far out Into blank space retiring. Trembling I stood ; For dreadful thunders rolled, shaking the A DREAM. 81 Vast plain on its foundations. Great chasms Opened wide their jaws ; flames leaped up, As if the fire's of hell had burst their Confines ; and the very smoke into forms Resolved, and shapes strange and hideous, That mocked me with their fiery eye, And strove with fiery feet to climb The leaping flames. Now the river rose To beat it down, and flung its sluggish Tides amid the raging heats that higher, Higher rose, and shrieked and raved, Drowning the reverberating thunder's voice. A lake, that heretofore had stood still, Arose, and its slimy contents poured O'er all the raging flames, until the fiery, Horrid shapes shot out in frenzied madness ; And the fire-tongued monsters wild beat it Down. Each in awful merriment held up A flaming hand, as from the emptied Lake there issued groans and shrieks of Horrid laughter. A bell began to toll : A thousand brazen bells ne'er clanged so Loud, so slow, so deep. One tone I heard : It might have been oceans raging in 82 A DREAM. Their maddest fur} 7 ", or worlds crushed out, Or meteors whirling by. Another tone : it Might have been the groan of ten Thousand damned souls mingled into One. But deeper still upon mine ear Did fall another, mournful at first, then Breaking into a wail, as if God's judgment- Day had come ; and from out the Sea the risen dead called unto the mountains And unto the unrelenting rocks to hide Them from his wrath. Then louder pealed Its brazen tongue o'er all the plain ; the fiery Monsters hid ; the leaping flames retired Aghast ; the shrinking river its hiss And bubble ceased; but blew the Slimy winds continuously with the breath Of charnel-house and open grave. Heated was all the plain ; and, lo ! In its midst a mountain towering rose, Girdled around with awful grandeur. No living thing was seen ; no verdurous robes Encrowned its sides ; no tree spread its Branches o'er the stones ; no babbling Stream flowed downward to the plains : A DREAM. 83 But blistered lava-rocks blistered the Smoking earth, which, in return, seemed The slimy air to blister ; till in one Great convulsion all the chasms closed, And the sluggish river, scorched into Dryness, sank amid the sands. Now night Came on ; and such a night ! Uprose the Moon like one red globe of blood. The stars glittered like sharp rays of Steel, and seemed to dart in madness O'er the sky. High hung a* cloud above The massive mount ; until, in sudden anger, from Its cracked jaws there burst huge jets of flame, That shot forth with dreadful hiss, boiling And sputtering like a mighty caldron Fed by the very fires of hell, thundering Forth with one continuous sound, drowning The clamorous-pealing bell ; and the thick, Sulphurous smoke rolled, and, beaten By the slimy winds, hid in Its awful folds the blood-red moon : But still the stars, emitting their steely Fires, glimmered through the darkness. Nought else was seen save the lurid 84 A DREAM. Fires, which might be kindled Down where damned spirits hold Their revels ; and, half hid by coils Of smoke, looked hellish. But while the darkened moon struggbd feebly 'mid The fiery flood ; while volcanoes Burst, drowning the thunder's voice, Shaking the plains, and seemed To throttle all the staring stars, I trembling stood, striving to Blind my vision to the gaping lava Sea, and shutting from my senses All this warring strife. And, lo ! upon Mine ear there stole a whisper ; so Faint at first, that I comprehended not Its import. Then it grew sweet and Loud, until it swelled into one grand Anthem, so like the songs chanted by the angels On the blessed hills, and which reached Far down, and broke Clear and sweet above the plains Where watched the shepherds. My Inthralled senses stood still. The Moon stood still ; all her fierce A DREA^f. 85 Red beams resolved into a soft, Silver radiance. Sudden, as if a Magic wand had swept the plains, Trees uprose, and budding flowers ; While methought I caught the faintest Echoes of a rippling stream, and the Soft dash of limpid waves against A moss-lined shore. I heard the wind Swell plaintive on the hills, and Felt its balmy breath cooling my Heated brow ; while, lo ! upon My entranced vision burst a Reflex of such glory, only the reflex, That all my soul grew dumb. Methought 'twas morn. The risen Sun stood still, draped with banners Wrought with gold, and canopied With purple mists which Half hid its wondrous brightness ; When suddenly there burst a blaze Of glory from its midst. The Parting clouds fled on. The amazed Earth quivered with delight. The King Of kings sat on his throne ; and 86 A SOLILOQUY. By bis side was One who looked On me with such tender grace, That my whole soul arose, clad, Methought, in those spotless robes Washed white in his own precious blood. SOLILOQUY. WHO says life " is a fevered dream ; " The world a dull stage, Whereon poor actors take a part, Fretting their souls in feeble rage Till Death with stony grasp Fastens them unto eternal slumber, Wherein no dream uncloses the frozen lids, No trembling breath awakes the sleeper, No voice of love calling from afar Can break upon the ear ? Alas ! who knows ? The spark That fed the fires of immortality Which so feebly glimmered up ainid A SOLILOQUY. 87 The shadows its exit from this Cold lump of clay none witnessed : Its destination where, oh ! where ? In what mysterious shape it took its flight ? How fled ? Did other spirits bear it Up to worlds of light ? or did it sink In everlasting darkness ? Here lies the form of one I loved, So changed, cold, and mysterious ! At all my eager questionings The frozen lips unclose not ; The eye, wont to smile back on me, Answers now with fixed, unmeaning stare ; The fires" lit beneath it have gone Out : but where, oh ! where, The hand that idled not amid the day ? It's folded o'er the frozen heart. Only The silken tresses lie unchanged. The rose, whose fragrant breath Might wake the heaviest slumberer, Lies light upon the brow, Whose marble fixedness might Put to shame the fairest image e'er Called into being by the hand of man. 88 CAST UP BY THE WAVES. Cold, cold, unmeaning silence, Whose mysteries I cannot penetrate, And so forbear. Leaving ye, I go back -to life, which is not life Without thee. Yet one blessed thought strikes me, That, when this frozen mantle falls on Me, thou canst not weep As I am weeping. CAST UP BY THE WAVES. DEAD ! Upon her upturned face The pale moonlight lingered ; Upon her unbound hair, whose Long, dark waves, matted with dank Weeds and ocean-shreds, clung round The marble neck and brow as It tangled lay Upon the rocks ; while ever and anon The cruel waves crept up, and stirred Its silken folds, as oft upon a summer Day it stirs a rose-leaf. CAST UP BY THE WAVES. 89 Swift the marshalling clouds swept O'er the sky ; swift the ocean-tides Rolled on ; loud and deep, in Clamorous tones, the breakers thundered O'er the rocks, and, like a deep bassoon, Called out and shrieked and raved, Till on the angry ocean's lips stood Great flecks of foam, which lightly Danced far out upon the shore until They bore the look of tiny seas afloat, Whose framework might be blood. Dead, and alone ! The winds Might beat ; the angry sea cast Up its flecking form ; the moon Peer down upon the ghastly scenes, And shed its melancholy flood Upon the marble pallor of the Brow, and lips just parted with A smile ; Voices from over the sea might Call, and that great sea repeat the Call in vain : for in such dreamless Slumber hath it wrapped her round, Though it shrieked out in remorseful 90 CAST UP BY THE WAVES. Cries until it rent the very skies, Yet would no answer Come from the pallid lips ; No motion as if the pale feet might Seek to wander by the shore. Cast up by the waves, And lying on the cold Gray rocks, with rounded limbs In attitude of grace composed ; one Dimpled arm across her breast ; and Yet her tiny feet are folded With that awful fixedness which To death alone belongs. O cruel sea ! O cruel tide ! ye had No mercy on the fragile child, but beat And beat, and chilled the life-blood In her tender veins ; But in the dreadful night, when, Above the blackness, angels watched For her pure soul's exit, methinks They bore it in calmness up to God. LINES ON THE BIRTHDAY OF A FRIEND. 91 LINES ON THE BIRTHDAY OF A FRIEND. SOFTLY the sun of this fair morning Conies up from the ancient hills ; And its white beams lend a gentle grace To barren plain and frozen rills. In the distance the mountains tower, Sublime, mysterious, and -old; While light, fleecy clouds are floating above, Mingled with purple and gold ; And the cool west-wind is murmuring An anthem low and sweet, All idly roving, and softly lingering Where plain and mountain meet. My friend, I pause, on this fair morning That ushers in thy natal day, To breathe a prayer of glad thanksgiving To my Father in heaven away, 92 LINES ON THE BIRTHDAY OF A FRIEND. That lie in his goodness hath lent thee To grace this fair, sweet earth : My heart in its joy reverently wonders If angels rejoiced at its birth. Noble soul ! with the redeemed may you stand, Crowned with everlasting life, On that day when Death claims you for his own, And ends all mortal strife ! And if, in the dim, uncertain future, Your faltering feet may tread Life's thorny way in bitterness, remember our Sa viour Had not where to lay his head. And lift your eyes beyond the hills, Where the golden gates of morning For your entrance will be opened wide Into life's eternal dawning. DA Y. 93 DAY. CREEPING o'er the mountain With all her rosy train ; Flushing field and fountain ; Flooding all the main With purple lights, the golden ; Wreathing a glittering chain Around the mountain olden, Around the ancient plain ; Brightening all the river ; Changing the old gray stones Into molten silver, Gleaming like liquid domes, Round eternal snows a mantle Of luminous, glowing red She inwrappeth, soft and gentle As roses round the dead. 94 DA Y. The clouds up in the heavens Might be the gates that fold. And shut from our yearning vision The streets of pearly gold ; So strange is all their beauty, So lustrous and so bright : Oh ! is that wondrous city Hidden from mortal sight ? Oh ! is that sea that shineth, Oh ! is that waveless sea That midst the city lieth In golden, placid splendor, Is it fairer than yon sky, Hung o'er with radiance tender, With glory from on high ? O unseen spirits that wander Earthward with message of love ! Oh ! speak of the land up yonder, The land that shines above ; The sun that breaketh in glory Over the dull gray world ; The clouds, marshalling all slowly, Like rainbow banner unfurled ; HOW MAXY SILENT VOICES. 95 And tell me if heaven be fairer Than gold and amber skies : The light that falls oh ! is it rarer Than morning in this guise ? HOW MANY SILENT VOICES! How many silent voices Hath the silent night ! In the wind that tosses The leaves all alight ; In the voice .of stars ablaze Up in the measureless sky ; In the voice of waning moon Majestic sailing by ; And the dwellers in the sea ; The sea-flower pale below ; The wave of voiceless tree ; The rose like drift of snow. 96 IN EXILE. List ! I hear them all, As through the solemn night Soft and sweet they call, Like viewless things of light. Oh ! the angels are abroad, And in the dimness sweep A misty radiance round my head, A glory at my feet. IN EXILE. DAY wanes ; and stealthy night inwraps Its sombre shadows round the busy human tide Which all day have surged through the crowded ways, Remorselessly beating 'gainst the feeble waifs Cast wrecked and worn upon the shores of Time, Their semblance of humanity crushed out, As obstacles that rise in the way of its advancement, Perilled and bartered souls, who can date Their downfall to this fair-seeming day, Lured by some treacherous, shining wave IX EXILE. 97 Which bore upon its bosom the' richest garniture of years, And that priceless jewel, Honor, Which, once relinquished, no tidal wave In the dim, receding years upheaves. But, alas ! beneath its surge and roll Long belts of cold gray rock And treacherous quicksands lay, 'Mong which a whirlpool circled, Eddying round, opening its jaws rapacious, Seeking to ingulf 'neath the sounding waves A soul, leaving the casket tenantless. And now the shadows deepen. Until the stately look dim ; While just beyond rise the towering summits Of the Rocky range, crowned with eternal snows, That whitely gleam, and mingle With the parting clouds, until my vision fails to scan Where mountains end, and clouds begin ; While above, like a tiny jewel set in Night's Regal diadem, one glimmering star peeps forth, Hanging low upon the mountain's brow In mystery and sublimity. My soul delights in all this beauty, and yet 7 98 IN EXILE. Is chilled with the plaintive, melancholy sound Of the wind that comes from the distant Heights, bearing on its wings odors from Unnumbered blossoms and vinous shrubs, Faint and delicious, wrapping the senses round Like subtle perfume borne from Eastern land. Each bird has sought its leafy couch, Some among the whispering pines ; while the Chaffinch and oriole are Lulled into repose in the swaying, Ancient poplars. I hear the river Rush all along the gleaming sands, And see its waters wandering far down The plain, till, lost in the interminable stretch, It rolls away, commingling with its sister-streams* A faint glow o'erspreads the eastern hills, Semblance bearing to the rosy hues of morn ; While I see the crescent Moon rise up in all Her glory, and walk the heavens a queen. My spell-bound vision no longer ranges, But dwells with lingering gaze Upon the radial lights that shoot Across the heavens, scattering the clouds, And piercing through mists that IN EXILE. 99 Settled o'er the valley ; glancing on The lake's unrippled surface ; Flecking with long, shining bars its margin, All adorned with creeping vines, And roses wild just bursting into bloom. Ah ! sweet Night, thou trailest thy shadowy Vestments over land and restless sea ; Drawing thy mighty veil athwart the vision ; Hiding Day's brighter glories, yet revealing Dimly its beauties, mellowed and Toned down, until each object bearing Animate life seems lulled into repose, And a sadness deep steals o'er me As the solemn hours flit by ; And olden memories come as shadows in the sky Of the royal land that gave me birth, its Shaded vales and streams, Where the blossoming hillside caught Its rosy, purplish gleams From the sun's red glow, that kissed The opening flowers, And beams on them with steadfast ray Throughout the summer-hours. And I wander an exile evermore. No land 100 77,1 MUNE SHINES HRIGHT. Can seem so fair ; No other sunshine gleam on me with Such a radiance rare ; No other friend give greeting so tender And so. kind ; No other token seem so sweet As this token that I find Within memory's deep, still chambers, Where, sleeping never more, Its tenants wait for signal From yonder deathless shore. THE MUNE SHINES BRIGHT. . OH ! saft and sweet the new mune shines Abune the cauld, gray plains ; Oh ! saft and sweet the wind's low chimes Brak' into sad refrains. The mountains rise wi' crest o' snow To meet the bendin' skies ; Far in the west a bricht star glows, And blinks wi' shinin' eyes THE MUNE SHINES BRIGHT. 101 Upo' the warld, the dreary warld, That brak' my heart long sin' ; While yon gret cloud unco furled Round the mune a silver rim. Wi' shinin' eyes a' the lesser stars Gang down the milky-way, And smilin' back on bluidy Mars Lik' tiny warlds at play. O luvly mune ! O luvly nicht ! O blinkin', blinkin' star, Ashimn' up in the heavens sae bricht Abune the hills afar ! Will ye nae gie my sorry heart A robe as pure as the lilies' snow, Sae, when angels ca' me in the dark, Their voices I sure shall know ? And in sinless garments I lay me down, While the sweet young mune may shine, And cast on my grave a wilderin' crown, And my lowly bed inshriue 102 PARTED. Wi' a halo o' glory sae pure and bright, That footsteps passin' nigh Sha' tread sae saftly, sha' tread sae licht, Nor unco weep nor sigh ; But, as they gither a rose wi' luvin' hand From out its sister fold, They'll think o' me 'mid the shinin' band That wa'k the streets o' gold. PARTED. SOUNDS of laughter, sounds of music, Mingled with the voices' hum ; Gleam of jewel, flash of gaslight, As "the thronging memories come. Oh ! the halls are wide in my palace fair ; But heavy my heart with dole and care. Within yon room are dancing feet Keeping time with music sweet ; PARTED. 103 And the voices flow and hum As the thronging memories come. Oh ! my palace-halls are wide and fair ; But heavy my heart with dole and care. Once I paused 'neath the maples' glow, -In the olden time, in the long-ago : Crimson and gold the leaves Lay at my feet ; the yellow sheaves The reapers bound in the fields away ; The purple mists o'er the valley lay ; And the forest-aisles, with garlands gay, Were all aflame this autumn-day. I said, " Farewell ! " the skies grew dim ; " Farewell ! " echoed the fields ; The daisies paled round their purple rim As the sound died away in mournful peals ; The wind sobbed low ; the sob of the pine In harmony blent like the mystic chime. There was a clasp of hands that nevermore Shall clasp in meeting on earth's dim shore ; Footsteps paused 'neath the maples' glow In that olden time, that long-ago, 104 PARTED. When the skies were bright, and then grew dim, And the pines sobbed aloud, while the winds crept in; Around the circling sun a cloud Inwrapped its white mantle like a shroud. Over the seas one sailed away, Robbing the day of its gold, Sailed away where tropic bay Placid waves in silver fold. Oh ! my palace-halls are wide and fair ; But heavy my spirit with dole and care. I stand beneath the star-gemmed sky, While the round white moon sails slowly by ; And I hear the music's swell ; And the dancing feet To its melody do beat ; And like a solemn knell The sound of that farewell, And one who sailed away O'er silver sea to tropic bay, The maples' glow, the yellow sheaves, The crimson and gold of autumn-leaves. PARTED. 105 I see the sheen of my bridal robes ; And the orange-flowers infold The misty veil that floateth down Like web of transparent gold ; The form of stately grace I see ; The look of love that's bent on me ; Words I hear, tender and sweet, Crushing the lilies 'neath my feet, Scattered by one who loved me well Ere I spoke that last farewell. Oh ! my palace-halls are wide and fair ; But heavy my heart with dole and care. My hair is black as the raven's wing ; But blacker the shadows in my soul, As it peers through the darkness, shutting in Its sorrow and its dole : While high above the melody there swell The echoes of that sad farewell ; And the dancing feet, And the laughter gay, And the music sweet, In the halls away, Hath a mocking tone, Like a moan or groan ; 106 PARTED. And a spectre haunteth me Of one who sailed away O'er silver sea to tropic bay. Oh ! my palace-halls are grand and fair ; But heavy my soul with dole and care. O silver sea ! O tropic bay ! Waft to the flower-girt shore One memory of that autumn-day That cometh back no more. Is the stately head bent low, Or lifted in love and light, Soft o'er the heart will steal, I know, Memories fair and bright Of a bride at the altar ; the autumn-leaves, And the reapers binding the yellow sheaves, And the trees aflame in the forest-aisle ; Of the heart that loved without a guile ; Of the farewell spoken 'neath the glow Of the bending maples long ago. LIFE AND DEATH. 107 LIFE AND DEATH. stood just within Night's portals, And gently forth did peep, As if afraid of rousing Earth's mortals Up from their quiet sleep : But her pale beams lit all the valley And the lone mountain's steep ; And the wind began to sigh mournfully, Rippling the lakelets deep, Music making through the rocky chasm ; Waking the violets meek, Shaking the dew-drop from their velvet petals ; Sweeping odors from the silver-maples ; Stooping to kiss the opening rose ; Wandering where the buttercup blows. And luminous was all the sky With a pale amber light, And wore her radiant, fleecy robes With a grace so bright ! 108 LIFE AND DEATH. The glorious sun tipped tree and flower And emerald vales ; The lark's song rose high, and blended with The melodious nightingale's. This morning ushers in Death and Life, Each warring with the other In melancholy strife. Side by side, hand in hand, Pause they not on Earth's dim strand, Each possessed with mystic wand, One tipped with life, the other manned With that ghastly thing called Death ; And from its nostrils one icy breath Forever freezes and forever chills The eye that sparkles, the heart that thrills But the soul looks up o'er the battle's din To the glory beyond that it's sure to win. MIDNIQI1T. 109 MIDNIGHT. THE hush of midnight rests in solemn gloom O'er all the world asleep ; While, slowly sailing on, the majestic moon Out from the ragged clouds doth peep, Leaving long belts of mellow light, Silvering the solemn plain, Piercing through the shades of night, And moving in her train Of stars that glitter and softly glow With lesser light on the earth below. Dimly in the distance the mountains I trace ; While to their hoary crests The moonlight lends a glamour and grace As it lightly on them rests. There is a charm in this midnight-hour That speaks to all my soul ; A peaceful calm, a sacred power, Through all its portals roll ; 110 THE SUICIDE. And I see in the moon, I see in the clouds, I see in each glimmering star, And plains that sleep in shadow-like shrouds And stretch in the distance afar, The great Architect's power, the mighty hand, The voice that speaks in tones so grand, Yet so small and still, that while I list, And my spirit keeps its lonely tryst, The hours have fled, the midnight's gone, And gray light heralds the coming morn. THE SUICIDE. DESPAIRING arid homeless, she fled Out in the cheerless night : No pitying angel her footsteps stayed In their mad, reckless flight. Yet the stars shone on as they ever shine ; And shone the crescent moon ; Its silver light fell on each nook and dell Fragrant with summer bloom. THE SUICIDE. Ill All through night's silence came the sound Of the sullen, restless sea, As it ever rolled on with quiver and moan Like a lost soul in agony. 'Neath its blue waves she sought repose : How softly they closed around, And quickly enshrouded her fair, frail form, With so many graces crowned ! The tide rolled in, the tide rolled out ; On the yellow sands she lay ; Dank seaweed twined in her golden hair ; And in her blue eyes death's stony glare : But a smile dwelt on lip and face so fair, As angels had left their* impress there, And flown with her soul away. 112 A POEM ON THE A POEM OX THE SEA. I paused in the evening tide On the majestic ocean's shore : The clouds across the heavens did ride ; And the moon began to pour A luminous flood on the restless waves, As they beat with sullen roar O'er the yellow sands, the shifting sands, And beat and beat evermore. Afar and away rose the stately hills, Crowned with soft gray light ; While shining rifts of moonshine crept, Like clouds of silvery white, Across the marsh and across the brake, That seemed asleep this solemn night. A POEM OJT TOE SEA. 1 " I And my vision soared where a million stats Twinkled, and glimmering shone With radiance soft, while following afar In the wake of the glittering moon ; And the cold winds swept the salt seaweed That dank and lifeless lay Where the treacherous tide that morn had lured It up from the sunken bay. And the solemn beauty that grandly robed The majestic earth and sky Surged through my brain and wandering soul Like echoing strains that never die ; That cliff repeat, and answering care, U:.:il their last and faintest sigh Seems among the clouds and among the And the zephyrs sweet4hat wander by. 114 SOLD. SOLD. THESE jewels flash and gleam to-night, Mocking my soul's agony, Wreathing, twining, clasping so tight, While the hours laggingly Pass on Time's dull and tedious wings, That back on my heart silently flings Memories that Lethe's mystical wave, Though all its drowsy waters should lave This secret sanctuary, Could never lull into unbroken sleep The Past's dim cadence that o'er me sweeps ; And I had garnered and kept with jealous care, In a rich repository, A clustered gem, so sweet and fair, With glamour laden, and so rare, That my dazed soul took only in The paler shine of its golden rim. SOLD. 115 One day I lost it in the whirl and rush, In the battle's din*- In vain I seek, my heart to hush, My jewel back to win. To-night I sit in my halls of mirth, Feeling within a melancholy dearth ; Seeking ever for that inner light Which gave to my soul a new birthright : So these jewels, that flash and gleam On my brow mockingly, Ever point, through the years that chime In the halls of memory, To that far past, wherein my soul, Unsoiled, sought the shining goal That lured me on with illusive show, And beckoned me with its illusive glow. Corroding care sits at the springs Of my life sullenly, Heeding not what bitterness it brings, Nor what melancholy: A phantom it sits at every feast, Seemingly counting each bidden guest. When merriment noisily creepeth in, It ever looks on with ghastly grin ; 116 SOLD. Its ghoul-like eyes emitting a light Which falls on my heart with terrible blight. Its reflection I see in the emerald's gleam That mingles shiningly With the diamond's glimmering sheen, And gold wrought cunningly, Interlaced and woven with curious skill. This bracelet I clasp with undefined thrill, As if fearing the touch of a cold, dead hand 'Twixt that of mine and this fettering band. The world, envying my glitter and gold, Looks on smilingly, Heeding not the heart's wealth sold, Like a miser, grudgingly ; While I see in its hollow praise, 'Neath all its false and delusive ways, This spectre pale who mocketh all, Shrouding my heart like a funeral-pall. THE OLD CHURCH. 117 THE OLD CHURCH. IT was a day in spring-time. Earth smiled, And donned her flowing robes with such royal grace As might befit a queen. On this day, within the por tals Of a time-worn church, I idly wandered ; While through its dim aisles phantoms of the fair, sweet past Yet lingered like the echoes of a pleasant melody. Through its windows, ivy-wreathed and stained, A sunbeam glanced, and on the sacred altar rested, Where nevermore should sound The voice of praise or prayer, lending A gentle radiance to its decay, and dispelling The shadowy twilight that lingered there. Through ihe ancient portals and open door The fresh winds softly came, all laden With the wild flowers' fragrance. Outside, the mourn ful pine 118 THE OLD CHURCH. That, even on the brightest summer's day, Sighs as if with some secret pain Waved its branches,- and still moaned on. I passed within the ancient chancel, and pictured How, in days gone by, had gathered there The young, the gay, the happy, The aged, and sorrow-stricken too ; And how the infant at the baptismal font Had received the holy blessing. All, all, had passed away, Some in life's fair young morning ; , - And some had aged grown Ere they were called to heaven ; Some toiled in other lands : But all, at last, should don death's cerements. And I fancied the broken organ-keys, Touched by unseen hands, sent forth harmonious strains, With which were mingled voices from an angel-band. It was a dream ; but around me evermore Memories of that day will softly linger, Till time, never pausing in its flight, Will bring about the longed-for hour When I shall sing beyond the gates of paradise. THE APACHE. 119 THE APACHE. WHERE Gila's mount of black basalt Rears to the skies its hoary crest, Flinging weird lights on the lower hills That- stretch away in silent rest, Down to the valley where Gila's stream Flows swiftly on with ripple and gleam, In untrammelled freedom the dread Apache Mounts his flying steed, and hies away O'er desert plains and barren wastes, Like. a winged demon all astray ; In ambush halts, with gloating soul, Till the shades of night shall o'er him roll ; Then, sneaking, he glides amid the rocks. In his downcast eye mad murder gleams ; His tongue the cunning serpent's tongue ; His gravity deep, a mocking screen That hides from his unwary foe How treachery strikes its fatal blow. In hollow dens and hidden caves By day he lurks with death intent, 120 THE APACHE. Smiling grimly when his victim falls From the arrow's poison so stealthily sent ; While he with gory and glittering blade Severs from the head of the murdered maid Her silken locks that look like gold, Clasping her round in shining fold. Now bloody warrior and hag-like squaw, With impish babe and elfish child, With knotty fagot and brush and brake, All gather in the forest wild ; While their howls rise shrill and high On the affrighted breeze that wanders by. And the victim they bind to the burning stake, With pitiless torture prolonging his life ; Cutting and piercing his quivering flesh ; Striving still with mortal strife, Each seeking some new, awful mode To dabble in his curdled blood ; Screeching if they rend a groan From his cold and clammy lips, While, oozing from unnumbered wounds, The crimson tide all slowly drips ; While they whirl around with terrible din, Dancing the death-dance with hellish vim, THE APACHE. 121 Till their dread orgies o'er all that remains Is a dimly-smouldering heap Of embers dead ; while, above, the stars Glimmeringly seem to keep A mournful watch, and the white moonbeams Peer through the shades in fitful gleams, While they coiled sleep in a clump of pines, Like the filthy cur who rends the night With snarling bark and whine prolonged, While he howls out his affright If a leaflet is stirred by the sighing breeze As it skips about 'mong the forest-trees. His soul delights in wampum-belt All thickly studded with shining beads ; While pendent hangs the ghastly scalp, Trophies of his murderous deeds ; While in secret he scans the mingled locks With the greedy eye of a hungry fox. Each tribe owns a doctor, or medicine-man, That like a mystic divinity dwells Alone in a tepe, where he converse holds With bogies that haunt the caves and fells ; While his hideous face more hideous seems, All streaked with red and horrible greens. 122 THE APACHE. When, swooping down with invisible wing, Death woes him into eternal sleep, And his soul is gone to the " hunting-grounds," Where it, mayhap, will meet Its own wild steed, and bestride him there, Unjaded, unfettered, fleet, and fair ; While the body's suspended upon a limb, And magpie and raven peck At his staring eyes, and seem to gloat O'er the morsels they steal from his fleshiest* neck; His only shroud the soft emerald leaves That cluster around on the forest-trees. - This is the life of the noble " red man " Who roams the Western plains ; This the prowess of which poets have sung In their loftiest, sweetest strains ; While with reeking hand and murderous heart Retires to his mountain-fastness all apart, And, unmolested, gloats o'er his stolen hoard With fury unabated, and memory all stored With invented wrongs and treacherous hate Which no blood of " pale-face " can ever sate. MELODY. 123 MELODY. -* A MELODY I heard : 'twas like the songs That swell on the heavenly plains. And upward I gazed till the angel-throng That chanted these sweet refrains Seemed to break on my vision ; the gates of gold All backward swung in shining fold ; And, crowned with pearl, their pillars white Uprose by a sea of dazzling light. There was no day, there was no change ; But the floods of glory sweeping down In endless brightness grew so strange, That all the earth seemed crowned With holy radiance ; and the sun Abashed hid ere his course was run, Till the stars came out, till the sweet young moon Hung high above the fields of June. 124 MARIA. Still then on the mountains there lino-ered a licrht : o o * On the emerald plains e'en the shadows grew bright; While the remnants of splendor faded away As bright spirits sang 'mid the fields of day. MARIA. THE noonday sun shone hot ; no dewy spot Remained untouched by its yellow glare : O'er the restless sea, on the barren lea, And all on the flowerets fair, It ghastly shone, while the wind made moan ; And flying through the air A thousand things with noisy wings, Which seemed, in my despair, Like a mottled crew of spirits damned, Or a legion that throng in Hades land. For dead on her bier was fair Maria, Lying so cold and white, Unheeding my grief, and never needing Throughout the day and solemn night THE BURIAL. 125 The ministries of love ; but as the snow-white dove Plumes its wings, and takes its flight, Her soul soared away where endless day Is never merged into dreary night. THE BURIAL. SLOW tramp of muffled feet ; Slow roll of muffled drum ; Sad and slow the dirges beat As sad and slow they come "Winding through the crowded street, Under the fretted dome ; Winding upward o'er the hills, Downward winding through the fields, Onward past the forest rills : Still the mournful music peals ; Still the tramp of muffled feet Echoes through the sounding street ; And the muffled drum beats slow As the dirges outward flow. 126 TO MY BELOVED DAUGHTER LILLIE. Tramp, tramp ! roll, roll ! 'Tis only the dust ye bear away : The soul has reached the shining goal Up in the fields of endless day. TO MY BELOVED DAUGHTER LTLL1E. BEAUTIFUL home in heaven away ; Beautiful angels in bright array ; Beautiful city with streets of gold ; Beautiful sea in waveless fold, Lying amid whose silver strand, Stretcheth adown the shining land. Beautiful streets that wind about ; Beautiful gates that shut me out, Wrought with pearl and starry crown In wondrous glory sweeping down ; Beautiful shore where spirits sing With harps of gold, and snowy wing Plumed for flight, and mission of love. O beautiful home in heaven above I COME UP HIGHER. 127 Strange, sweet city, that hath no night ! glorious land beyond my sight ! 1 long to wander by thy silver sea ; I wait for thy glory to shine on me. COME UP HIGHER. SLOWLY drifting with the tide, Counting all the fleeting hours ; Aimless drifting far and wide Underneath the pitiless showers, Underneath dull, heavy clouds, That in wrap the sky in misty shrouds, Which sunbeam parteth not, nor moonlight glow, Nor shine of stars on the earth below ; Holding in my fevered grasp Withered emblems of my youth ; Gathering eagerly, as I pass, Emblems of unspotted truth ; Seeing in the distance the fadeless shore ; Hearing, far above life's din and roar, 128 COME UP HIGHER. The low, faint chant of an angel-choir, In echoing strains, " Oh ! come up higher." 9 What if my bark sails slowly out With the sluggish, creeping tide, Or whirls in the eddy idly about, Or mockingly doth ride O'er sunken reef, on the billow's crest, Or sweeping on in gloom and unrest ? I know that at last my weary feet Shall pause by the shining sea ; I know that at last the loved I shall greet Who on earth were lost to me ; While, reaching far down from their deathless land, The long-drawn link, the invisible band, I seem to hold in my trembling hand. So I smile at the cloud ; I smile at the storms ; I smile at the pitiless showers : On fadeless shores I discern bright forms, And hear, through the fleeting hours, The low, sweet strains of the angel-choir, Chanting ever to me, " Oh ! come up higher." ON THE SANDS. 129 ON THE SANDS. ON the shifting sands we found her, On the silver sands, asleep : The summer-winds stole around her ; The sea rolled at her feet, The chainless sea, that bound her Unto this slumber deep. A sunbeam kissed her raven hair, Wondering why so cold and fair Was the upturned marble face, Frozen into awful grace ; Or why the fringed eyelids lay Unlifted o'er the midnight eyes ; Or why the golden light of day Waked her not in sweet surprise. The tide rolled out ; the sullen sea Repeated its harsh complaint ; 130 ON THE SANDS. The wren piped along the fallow lea. But there, like some blessed saint, Undisturbed she slept : no sound, No dreamy echoes on the hills afar, No sunshine softly creeping round, No gleam of evening's holiest star, Can bid her wake, And softly take Along the silver sand her way, That stretches far down to silver bay. But the bee might strive to sip Extracts sweet from her rigid lip : The lapwing rest on her raven hair, - Tangling his feet, Singing as sweet As the angels up in mid-air ; The winds might flutter ; The fretted sea mutter, And lament to the stones In wild monotones : But ever unanswering she lies Under the glowing summer skies, That wake her not in sweet surprise. LYING LOW. 131 LYING LOW. RAINS may beat, and winds may blow ; The seasons come, the seasons go ; Cold and high the winter's snow Fall around thee, lying low ; The richest buds of verdurous spring May break in beauty o'er thy grave ; And summer suns around it cling ; And summer airs all lightly wave The tasselled vines, beneath the hill Hippie the waters by the mill, May rustle all the waving corn ; The smile of eve, the smile of morn, Blush o'er the fields in bright array ; And singing birds in forests gay May circle and wheel above the dead ; Lilies white and roses red 132 SUMMER. May cast their fragrance at thy feet, Disturbing not thy dreamless sleep : Thy v.pturned face oh ! no wind that blows Can break its grand and calm repose. SUMMER. UNDER the roses the shadows lie ; On the hills the grass is green ; Down in the vale the stream rolls by, Lit up with mystical gleam ; * Across the sky the lambent folds Of a rainbow melting away, And mingled, fall with the sunbeam's gold Upon the perfect fields away, Till, as a shimmer of glory, it fadeth out, The shimmer not seen by mortal eyes, That hangeth the emerald plains about, Stretching beyond the upper skies. MUSINGS. 133 And a glow I see of all things fair The purple haze of a summer's day Upon the fields, the sky, the air, And down in the vales away. Ah ! the smile of Christ is o'er all the earth, Till it seemeth unto me That the glory of heaven must own its birth To this glory that stretches free Around the sky, and stretches afar, Till, pale and sweet, it seems to hold ^ A radiance like a, morning star Within its mystic fold. MUSINGS. ALONE I sit in this midnight hour : The shrill winds pipe without ; Soft and fair a fleecy shower Drifts through the silent night, And drifteth high and drifteth low Like a shroud of spotless white. 134 MUSINGS. No moon, no stars ; the leaden sky Lowereth heavily as my fate ; The mocking wind echoes my sigh, Too late, too late ! But the angels must hear my yearning cry Beyond the golden gate. O winds that blow ! O drifting snow ! O leaden, leaden sky, That hangeth heavy, that hangeth low, Undeeding my desolate cry As I gaze afar for gleam of star, Or moonbeam following nigh ! My shrouded heart, my shrouded life, Will not be merged in eternal gloom : Then cease, oh ! cease, your warring strife : The sun must flood that blazing noon, That will break in glory on my soul Beyond its earthly tomb. IN DARKNESS. 135 IN DARKNESS. I "WALK in darkness : never a light Radiates my dreary night. I walk in darkness : O Father ! come And take thy sorrowing child up home. I'm weary of sin ; I'm weary of strife ; Bereaved and desolate, I'm weary of life. O blessed angels, floating down With starry pinions and starry crown ! In your spotless vestments robe my soul, As swift the tides around me roll, The tides of death, the tides of sin : Oh ! ope your gates, and let me in. The earth is fair ; but fairer heaven : Longing I wait till to my soul is given The power to soar in spotless array Up to the gates of eternal day, 136 DOWN THE BRIGHT RIVER. Where my Father dwells in glory and light. Then come, blessed angels ! in robes of white, With harps of gold, and starry crown, And bear me up to your sinless home. DOWN THE BRIGHT RIVER. DOWN the bright river of life we are sailing, Approaching an unknown land evermore, Where birds are singing, and fresh breezes blowing, And sweet flowers bloom on the emerald shore. Out with the silver tide we are ever drifting, While over all shines the golden sun ; With yearning hearts we are watching and waiting For the mystical morrow that shall never dawn. Perchance, while we wait for its glint and gleam All through life's fret and its fever, We forget, evermore, that shining shore To which we are all drifting ever. MELANCHOLY. 137 MELANCHOLY. THE long golden day has sped away With time in its tireless flight ; And I sit and muse in the twilight's gray, While its shadows deepen into night. From out my dead past shadowy forms arise ; While the waves of the sullen sea Roll up at my feet, and roll and beat Like a long, mournful symphony. Up from the flower-crowned hills far away The crescent moon in her glory has risen ; And her white beams fall on the moaning sea, Light as a zephyr from heaven. From the flower-crowned hills arid the moaning sea, From the newly -risen moon, From the light and beauty of the earth and sky, Sadly and mournfully I turn : 138 AN IDYL. For nevermore can summer's golden bloom Waken in my heart its former joy ; Nor friendship nor love, nor hope nor peace, Allure me to destroy. AN IDYL. BLUE is the sky, and the sunshine golden ; Fragrant the summer-flowers ; Warble the birds in the tree-tops olden All through the slow, still hours ; Fresh blow the breezes, and lightly wander O'er the wild rose in its bloom ; From all the sunny fields the sweet white clover Sends forth a rich perfume. Sounds in the distance the rush of the river In the hush of this summer's day : On its glancing waves the tall willows quiver As it restlessly rolls away. NO MORE. 139 Pass not away, O golden hours of summer ! Still blow, fragrant breeze ! Roll, ceaseless roll, thou never-resting river ! Birds, still warble in waving trees ! For on the sunny hillside is sleeping my lover ; He will waken nevermore : So bloom, sweet flowers ! and, sunshine ! quiver The sacred spot all o'er. NO MORE. CRUSHED by Fate's relentless hand, My soul, that heavenward would soar, Earthward takes its grovelling way, And echoes that sad refrain, " No more, no more ! " The wild winds that sweep o'er the desolate sea, And the wild waves that roll on the sandy shore, And thunder and foam against the rock-bound coast, Echo ever to me mournfully, " No more, no more ! " 140 GOOD-NIGHT. And the tempest that rages with the angry sea, And the threatening clouds that lower, And go hurrying by o'er the darkened sky, Seem to whisper, " No more, no more ! " Time, that creeps with such silent step O'er marble column and marble floor, ' Points his shadowy hand to decay, And traces there, "'No more, no more ! " GOOD-NIGHT. MY darling, my darling, a fond good-night ! God's angels keep thee till the morning light Breaks over the headlands and over the sea, Bringing health and hope and peace to thee. Good-night ! Now glittering afar In yon blue heaven, there's many a star ; And the crescent moon sheds he*- golden beams O'er thy repose and thy midnight dreams. AT REST. 11-1 Sweet be that repose ! and may thy dreams Be overshadowed with glimpses and gleams Of the river of life and the heavenly shore, Where sorrow and pain and parting are o'er ! AT REST. ON her lonely grave how softly falls The shimmering light of the crescent moon, Like a mantle of glory enshrouding the spot, And deepening its mystical gloom ! Morn's golden light, the blaze of noonday sun, . The song of birds, the busy hum of bees, Nor rush of waters, nor wave of woods, Nor bloom of flowers, nor murmur of breeze, No sound from this life and its wearying strife, No mortal care or pain, No voice of love, nor voice of grief, Can waken to life again. 142 WHAT THE MOON SAW. O'er the pulseless heart lie the folded hands, rForever, forever at rest ; While the mould is gathering on cheek and on brow "Which erst our lips have pressed. Life's pain all o'er, on yon shining shore, Arrayed in robes of white, With the angel-barM, at God's right hand She walks in love and li(jht. WHAT THE MOON SAW. NIGHT brooded o'er all the earth Like a mournful sable pall ; The flowers slept even, and the stars Shone dimly over all ; While through the shadows my vision sought To peer beyond the narrow wall That girt my soul with invisible bands, And to hear the invisible fall Of the footsteps of angels and the spirit-band That come and go from the spirit-land. WHAT THE MOON SAW. 143 Not long with triumph the darkness rode O'er all the silent world ; For the moon rose up from the eastern hills, And swiftly and quickly hurled Into night's abyss the great dark cloud That its banner had all unfurled, And serenely sailed on with all her train, Till her broad beams girt the mighty plain. In all her beauty she ever looked down On many a hidden scene, And never paused till her radiance fell And flashed with softer gleam On the cottage low where the maiden slept, And kissed her in her dream ; While she glanced on the dead that silently sleep, No more to waken, no more to weep. On the lake's deep bosom -she saw An image like her own ; ' And tarried there till the rippling waves With reflected glory shone, And soft opaline hues, with changeful light, From all the starry dome ; 144 WHAT THE MOON SAW. While the heart of the rose she softly kissed, And stole a fragrance it never missed. The murderer stayed his bloody hand, And with fearing glances sought To hide underneath the flowery sod The ruin that he had wrought ; But the moon shone on it with terrible light, Till the ghastly thing seemed fraught With power and motion and life renewed, Threatening him still in menacing mood. And the moon sailed on, and sailed away, And high in the heavens rode : While the prisoner slept in his lonely cell, And dreamed of summer wood And blossoming hill and pleasant vale, Where the odorous pine-tree stood ; And her silver beams fell with tender grace Around and across his dteaming face. And I saw her track on the mighty sea, And on the rock-bound shore : She walked the mountain, and it glowed With mellow radiance o'er ; LOST. 145 And tipped the rifting clouds, until they shone With newer beauty all her own. But, while she moved so calmly on, The whispering winds began to sigh, And the hills looked gray ; while rosy morn Unveiled the luminous sky, And the god of day quenched her paler gleams In the glory and shine of his dazzling beams. LOST. I BARTERED my soul for a morsel of bread, There was none to cry me nay ; Ay, bartered my soul, while all my peace fled On that fatal, fatal day. To-day I sit in my garnished room With my books and paintings rare : But shrouded am I in sorrow and gloom ; And Remorse, as a guest, sits there. 10 146 A DYING HYMN. A slanting sunbeam resplendent creeps O'er lilies and roses combined ; And sings my bird in his golden-wired cage, While sadly I weep in mine. Waves of rich music are swelling high, Blent with the harp's sweeter tone ; While my heart is making a desolate cry For the hours that are dead and gone. Some day they'll shroud me in spotless white, The coffin-lid close o'er my breast, And make me a grave 'neath the emerald turf, And lay me away to rest. A DYING HYMN. O SPIRIT waiting on the other side ! O angel with snowy wing ! Ere I battling sink 'neath Death's cold tide, Let me His praises sing A DYING Ill'UN. 147 Who hath led my trembling steps Nigh to the sacred fount, Filled with his sacred blood ; And, ere to the skies I mount, Proclaim to the amazed world The glories that I behold, Above the heavens unfurled, The streets of spotless gold, Stretched round a silver sea, Around the great white throne, Where in dazzling glory dvvelleth He Who hath all our sorrows known ; Who ransomed our souls from death : Then, ere I mount to the skies, Let His praises roll with my latest breath Up to the fields of paradise. 148 AN AUTUMN DAY. AN AUTUMN DAY. THE glint of yellow sunshine enveloped all the har vest-fields ; Beneath the reapers' touch the ripe grain fell ; The wild bird trilled its song in the neighboring haw thorn-tree ; A tiny brook twined, murmuring, through the for est-dell ; The fresh breeze swayed the silken-tasselled corn, And wandered idly o'er the fragrant, odorous fields ; Pausing oft to toy with the blossoming rose, Scattering the dew-drops from its glossy leaves. Ah, happy morn ! ah, genial summer-hours ! Perished all your brightness, faded all your bloom : On the barren hill-top high shines the yellow sun Shines with ghastly splendor till the weary day is done. RAIN. 149 All my hopes are withered, as withered is your bloom ; Enshrouded are the hours in heaviness and gloom : In all life's love and beauty my soul it hath no part ; For a grave is on the hillside, a grave is in my heart. RAIN. DRIP, drip, O melancholy rain ! Through all the silent hour ; Fall, softly fall, O summer rain I On bud and opening flower ; On sweet wild rose and star-wort white ; On odorous pink and daisy bright ; On fresh, green grass ; on clover sweet ; On tasselled corn and waving wheat ; ' On singing brook as it rushes by ; On lakelets deep where shadows lie ; On forest dense where the branching trees Droop low with rain, on their glossy leaves Fall, softly fall, with dreary sound ; Drip, slowly drip, on the lowly mound, Where in solemn repose we ever keep The shrouded dead in slumbers deep. 150 A FRAGMENT. A FRAGMENT. FOLD lightly over him the sable pall, A great soul has sought its rest ; Gently let the nerveless hands fall Over the pulseless breast ; Soft my mournful music swell In dirge-like tones a solemn knell For the departed soul, whose upward flight Is stayed in realms of endless light. Open wide the casement : sun and breeze Disturb not his sleep ; Odors faint from fragrant fields Softly round him creep. Sing, bird ! in yonder blackthorn-bush ; In the hedges pipe, O melancholy thrush ! Gather from the rose-tree its shining blooms, From the nodding cypress its velvet plumes ; Crown with amaranth and myrtle his cold, white brow; Breathe no tender token ; he will not heed thee now : NOWHERE TO GO. 151 Death mysterious has gathered in his fold The casket that enshrined a soul of rarest mould. So close the coffin-lid, and bear him slowly on, Life's battle all fought, its victories all won. NOWHERE TO GO. ANGELS of mercy, angels of light, Ranges your vision o'er this pitiful sight ? Lost, betrayed, abandoned, so low, Angels of mercy, with nowhere to go ! Out in the night, out in the sleet, While roll the curdled waves up at her feet ; And the home-lights glimmer, and softly throw Pale shades on her form with nowhere to go. Her yellow hair unbraided hangs, While clings the dampness to every strand ; And cold and bitter the night-winds blow Across her brow that hath nowhere to go. 152 NOWHERE TO GO. A child in years, innocent and fair As spring's sweet blossoms which perfume the air In her young heart was love's first glow : Why cast her forth with nowhere to go ? See ! white hands are raised, and flutter aloft ; While pale lips lisp a prayer, so low and soft, That the angels must hear as they peer below On her in darkness with nowhere to go. On ear attuned to love harsh words fall ; Out in the night strange voices call ; While high dash the billows, and wildly flow, As if to embrace her with nowhere to go. Hopeless she lingers ; the lights are gone ; While the heavy hours creep slowly on. O angels of mercy ! around her throw Your sinless robes, that hath nowhere to go. Too late, too late ! the hour has passed ; Life's sands run low ; the die is cast ; Weird forms glide up from the depths below, Wildly beckoning her that hath nowhere to go. ON THE BANK OF THE PLATTE. 153 One fatal leap, the dread waves roll Swift and high on the sandy shoal, Undisturbing her in her sleep below, That forth was cast with nowhere to go. ON THE BANK OF THE PLATTE. THE air grows mild ; gentle breezes sweep Across the flower-gemmed plains ; While, peeping forth in emerald tufts All adown the sunny lanes, The velvet grass and shining buds Unfold beneath the genial rains. And I walk on the river's strand, And list to the solemn waves That roll o'er the shifting sand ; While the silvery water laves The banks where wild roses bloom, And send abroad a rich perfume. 154 ON THE BANK OF THE PLATTE. From the tops of the willow and poplar trees A meadow-lark trills forth its song In bugle-notes from bank to bank, Which die away in echoes long ; And all sweet sounds of hill and main Together blend in harmonious strain. A rainbow spans the ether blue, Reflecting in the shining deeps ; While float the rifting clouds across, Or piled in billowy heaps O'er the distant mount, where thunders die Away in one long, lingering sigh. And onward the swift river sweeps, Winding through sunny plains, Down rocky chasms and craggy steeps, O'erleaping the glittering chains Of mountains that sleep 'neath eternal snows, While on, ever on, it restless flows. Ah, beautiful river ! I liken thee To the struggling, waiting soul, Whose flight must onward and upward be To reach the shining goal TO A STAR. 155 Where the angels wait at the golden gate, And backward the curtain roll That hides from our vision the jasper walls Of the city eternal, where no night falls. TO A STAR. SHINE on, sweet star ! shine on : The moon hath hid her face ; Yon angry mass that hangeth up Veileth her gentle grace ; The night- winds blow across the wold ; The tide rolls on the shore ; High it beats o'er the shifting sands With sad and sullen roar. One rift breaks in the clouds : 'Tis like a sapphire band With precious jewels studded round, Gleaming bright and grand. In its midst thou art set, Surpassing sweet and rare, Brighter than gem in regal crown, Glistening soft and fair. 156 TO A STAR. Sad is my soul, sweet star ! The night-winds blow around : Sweep they from the hills afar With low and wailing sound. The sea is black like one vast plain, And at my feet doth roll, And beat against the rocky main Like a spirit in its dole. Dost pity me, pale star ? For thou hast dimmer grown ; And angry clouds arise to mar The sapphire of thy throne. Cold raindrops fall upon thy brow ; Upon the restless sea they fall : Blacker creep the shadows now Around the gray sea-wall. Oh, shine on me, pale star ! Until thy radiant beams Dispel the shadows from my soul, The spectre from my dreams. Farewell, sweet star ! the angels now, That dwell in worlds of lie^ht, o *. TO A STAR. 157 Downward sweep around my brow Their pinions of snowy white. For on my spirit a calm there falls, On the restless sea a calm ; The winds beat about the ancient walls, And all their breath a balm. A light I see at the western gate, That shutteth within its folds The pearly streets, with jasper wrought, No mortal eye beholds. Oh ! dim and misty is all the earth ; Oh ! bright and fair is heaven : " Only flowers that perish, and hollow mirth, Unto this life are given. Placid the sea that stretches afar ; Oh ! placid the silver sea : Beyond the gleam of sun or star, Oh ! bright the land which awaiteth me. 158 SPIRIT OF GRACE. SPIRIT OF GRACE. DESCEND, sweet spirit of grace ! With healing balm into my soul ; And let me hide my ravished face While hideous waves around me roll, And darkness and sin encompass me, Sorrow and one jdrear night : Oh ! let me not thy mercy flee, Radiant spirit of light ! Oh ! guide my trembling step As it presses the thorny way, Till, life's pain all o'er, its tears all wept, I wake in one eternal day. THE BLOOD OF CHRIST. 159 THE BLOOD OF CHRIST. AROUND me there floweth a river ; Its waters are black and cold : Sweeping up in icy shiver, Unto my feet they fold. Unto my garments' snowy whiteness The lapping tide leaps up ; But above an angel floats in brightness, Holding a golden cup. With eyes tender and merciful, With wings of snow, it bends down, In garments of glory all lustreful, Wearing a golden crown. From the golden cup there drippeth Many a crimson drop : One into the cold river slippeth, Slippeth soundless and soft. 160 A VISION. And the black waves whiten into glory As high around me they swell ; While back the angel floats all swiftly The old sweet story to tell, How a soul is crossing the dark river, Redeemed by the Saviour's blood ; And the wide arch of heaven doth quiver With music that rolls like a flood. A VISION. THE cloudy canopy, that all day has hung Above the mountains craggy and old, Floats away in purple and crimson robes Dyed with the sunset's gold. On each snow-capped summit gently lingers, With a soft yet radiant light, The last faint gleams of the departing day, Blending with the shadowy night. A VISION. 161 Perhaps, in this mystical hour, the angels That dwell around the white throne Breathe words of sweet peace and comfort To the soul that sorrows alone. Methinks I hear the trail of their garments, And the echoes of holy strains ; See the shadowy forms of the spirit-band That dwells on the upper plains. And above the white clouds I see What might be the jasper walls, And the glitter and sheen of the golden streets, Where no night ever falls. No more on my earth-dimmed vision Shall fall this radiant light, Till the angel of death shall waft my soul Beyond the shades of night. 11 1G2 DA WK. DAWN. THE mist hangs o'er the mountains, Transparent and light, The distant peaks all crowning With veils of fleecy white. Above, the gray clouds are sailing, Tipped with a rosy hue ; While through their deeps are peeping Long belts of sunny blue ; And on the plains all glittering Are drops of shining dew. The lark's clear notes are blending With the musical hum Tiny insects forth are sending, All in the brightening morn ; While gentle breezes are roaming, Or playing hide-and-seek, With the glossy leaflets toying, Luring the violets meek DA WN. 1C3 In an odorous couch low sleeping Beside the hollow rock, Under which the streamlets gliding The echoes seem to mock ; And the sweet wild rose is blooming Beside the waxen gem That into glad life is springing In many a hidden glen ; And a radiant beauty is shrouding The earth and sunny sky, Like the far and faintest echo Of music floating by. Then we sit in the mystic gloaming, And list for the spirit-band That on heavenly plains are watching, And wait on the golden strand For the soul that is slowly passing On to their brighter land. 164 NORA. NORA. ONCE I passed a village sweet : Purple hills intwined its feet ; A river bound it with one great stride. As, lo ! I paused in the summer-tide, Thinking, perchance, some angel-eyes Might glance down from paradise Upon this spot, glowing that day Among the massive hills away, Strolling down a mossy lane, Sweet with pansy and golden-fane, The glory of earth, the glory of sky, Seemed a reflex to my longing eye Of that greater glory up on high. Then plaintive strains I loved to hear Of olden music broke on mine ear, Joining my voice to the old-time song, Singing, methought, with an angel-throng, Till I remembered a day in the long-ago When I walked these fields with heart asrlow. KORA. 1C5 I sang to the skies ; I sang to the trees ; Crooned I low to the crooning breeze : Singing, I said, " O nestling town, Wearing summer's purple crown ! I hear your brisk and busy hum ; I see your shadows go and come ; And softly well your noontide bells Under the sounding echoes swells, Clear and low, soft and slow ; Outward flaunt your chimings low ; While upward creeps the golden glow Of the noontide sun from the vale below ; And, echoing through the sounding street, Lo ! the hurrying footsteps meet. From the church's steeple tall The ring-necked pigeon's cooing call Is answered from the mossy eaves Where the twining ivy cleaves, And in quaint and antique lines All the mouldering pile enshrines. Just above, the roses blow In robes as white as the living snow ; Just above, the violets sweet Hide their clusters at my feet, 166 NORA. With their odors faint and rare Scenting all the balmy air ; Just above, the churchyard lies, Where straight the gleaming shafts arise Straight and tall to the glowing skies ; Round, round, the river whirls, Swift and deep, in eddying curls, Silvering the banks with silver pearls As it beats and moans in sounding tones, Breaking soft its flecking foams Against the gray and mossy stones, Till in calmness its crystal water meets A lake that all unrippled sleeps Amid the shadows long and gray, Clasped around the radiant day." Afloat on its surface, in fine array And in bridal vesture, the lilies lay ; While down from the heavens the roving sun Kissed their bright petals one by one ; While music of lapwing and drowsy bee Stole like the whir of a distant sea ; And rose the sound of the sobbing pine In the noontide air like a sobbing chime, NORA. . 167 And, as censer swung the fields among, Their spicy fragrance far outward flung. And on this clay, hand in hand, Two walked up the emerald strand, By the river walked, and under the pines, That never stilled their sobbing chimes ; And by the lake where the lilies white Uplifted lay in the golden light, And the wild convolvulus in clusters twines Its purple bells on purple vines. Oh ! Nora was fair ; oh ! Nora was sweet As the purple glorias at her feet. But Nora was proud, Nora was cold, To all that wooed not with their gold. The lilies she twisted into a crown ; In silken threads her hair hung down, Black it hung as the raven's wing, Silky and soft as the wild lapwing. The lilies she twined around her brow, And tossed the floss about her now, The floss that stole the purple gleam, The softer glory of a sunbeam ; Her eyes that shone as worlds of light Might on this at wan midnight ; 1G8 NORA. Luminous and deep as pool asleep When over the sun pale shadows creep ; Liquid and soft as the stars up aloft, That midnight vigils keep ; Graceful as the bending willow, Pliant as the heaving billow, Stately, with a winning grace, As if her soul indexed her face ; Pleasant her mien, and with all blent Was courteous, sweet, and kind, content That heaven vouchsafed such a friend Whose soul in harmony could blend With hers in the gold of summer-tide. And " Ah, 'tis sweet ! " she faintly sighed ; But all the while she wished away The luckless wight that came that day. White his brow and broad ; Stately his step as he firmly trod Under his feet the grasses sweet, Under his feet as by her side , He walked in the golden summer-tide. He plucked the lilies, the purple vines, And needles sharp from the velvet pines, And pinned them into the wild bluebells Clustering in the shady dells. NORA. 169 And passionate his tones, and deep As the summer-winds that seek The deepest labyrinths of a cave Winding 'neath the ocean's wave. Said he, " Nora, my love, the stars above, That constant vigils keep ; The moon that sails like a white-winged dove Up through the amber deep, And saileth east, and saileth west, O'er all the world asleep ; The roving sun in yonder sky, That gilds the morn, that gilds the eve ; The river that sweeps all swiftly by ; The ivy intwining the mossy eaves ; The tide that rolls out, the tide that rolls in From the swelling sea in unceasing din, Day unto day, night unto night ; The seasons, unfolding their robes of light, Are not more constant, O Nora sweet ! Than thy lover kneeling at thy feet. Wealth I have none, but a strong right arm That will be thy shield in life's alarm, And a heart that's brave in its love for thee. O Nora ! look up and answer me." 170 NORA. Pale Nora grew : the lapwing flew, And screeched out a dismal note ; The sweet sun, smote by a cloud afloat, Hid in its thick and fleecy fold ; The river swept on to a sunless moat ; The daisies closed up their eyes of gold. Oh ! scornful she grew ; and wildly flew The lapwing up to the cloud ; The wind it blew through the sobbing yew In 'plaining sad and loud ; And unto the feet of Nora sweet, Nora the rare and proud. One moment shone in her midnight eyes A look of love such as angels wear ; Then scorn, contempt, and cold surprise, Came from Nora the proud and rare. " Go, base-born ! from my sight retire ! Nor strike for me love's ardent lyre. See these gems that grace my silk attire ! They burn and sparkle with living fire : Canst bring them to me from over the sea ? If not," she cried, " retire ! " Then white he grew as a Winding-sheet Wrapping the dead in eternal sleep. NORA. 171 All anguished his looks, but haughty his step, As he strode with firmness over the fields, As a ship that rides one moment erect Before to the tide she yields ; And the sounding swell of the noontide bell * Had hushed its clanging peal ; And Nora had torn the lily crown From the silken threads hanging adown, As from the heart she tore the part That should have been its lily crown. He fled to distant lands, and sought The wealth that with it honors brought ; But ever saw a snow-white hand Plucking lilies from flossy band ; The look of scorn, contempt, surprise, Flashing from her midnight eyes ; And the decayed and mossy eaves Where the twining ivy cleaves ; Heard the sounding peal Of a bell across the field, And the river's gladsome whirls Casting forth the silver pearls. " Oh bitter remembrance ! O Nora proud ! Ever my heart must beat for thee, 172 NORA. Till at last I shall sleep in my winding-sheet Alone by the desolate sea ! " Thus he cried to the mocking tide That ploughed the furrowed lea. The dazzled world at her proud shrine Bowed its adoring head, And seasons rolled into summer prime ; But Nora remained unwed. Her silken hair was fading out, From her midnight orbs the light ; The bloom on her cheek Time put to rout, And yellowed its marble white ; But stately her step with stately grace, And proud the look that indexed her face As she saw the lilies, the purple bells, Clustering down in the forest-dells, And heard the ring-necked pigeon's call From the church's steeple tall, And walked the fields in the summer-tide That the river bound with one great stride. But, alone in her pride, alone she sighed Unto the blossoming flower. The lapwing heard, and her espied Up in his windy tower, NORA. 173 And shrieking flew from the sobbing yew Unto a sunnier bower. For Nora the fair, Nora the rare, Wept for her lover lost : Dead leaves she plucked, saying, " I'll wear Among the folds of my silken floss These withered emblems everywhere." She plucked from her bosom the rarest pearls, And flung them into the eddying curls Of the river that hid them deep amid The fold and curl of its restless whirls, Crying, " Woe is me ! over the sea My lover sailed away. Now dimmed the stars, the moonbeams paled, And the glowing fields of May. I see through a mist, that might, I wist, As I sing my mournful lay, Blind mine eyes to the radiant skies, The gold of a summer-day. I'll seek my lover where the white sea-plover Pipeth unto the marsh ; Where sips the bee from the honeyed clover, And the raven croaketh harsh." 174 PARTED, She wandered east, she wandered west, O'er many a vine-clad shore, That soothed not her heart's unrest, Beating to the measures of " Nevermore ; Till a city she gained, old and quaint, With temples upreared to some holy saint ; And the sea it rolled round the city old, E'en to the feet of the ancient streets Swept it up like glittering sheets, And its sounding tide far and wide Furrowed the fallow lea ; And the lover she wept, lo ! there he slept Alone by the desolate sea. PARTED. SOFT shone the southern sun ; Blue shone the sky ; Slow flitting, one by one, The golden hours went by. PARTF.D. 175 Low we bowed before the altar, As priest in stole of white Said, " Until death doth sever, I these two unite." But one day we parted, One sunny summer day : Now I wander broken-hearted In the shadows alway. That was long ago ; but never Shall we meet again Under the blue sky, never Under the rain. And I linger in the even When the pale stars shine, Looking upward to heaven, Beyond change or time, Thinking of a greeting All on its blessed shore ; Thinking of a meeting Where parting is no more. 176 DEAD. DEAD. How cold and still where late the life-blood Surged through the veins in crimson tide ! How pulseless the heart that beat with ambition And high hopes, and fluttered at the coming Of my footstep o'er the emerald sward ! On the brow where gentle graces throned sat, There is no mark left by the soul that struggled For release from its mysterious tenement, But a smile, that the angels who wafted Thy pure spirit up to heavenly plains Might envy. Thy golden hair, that, unconfined, Sweeps down in shining folds across thy marbled neck, And o'er thy spotless shroud, lying like Rippling waves all on thy bier, is softly stirred By the fragrant winds that creep through The open casement. The earth its fairest aspect wears, As if to mock thee lying there so cold and si ill. DEAD. 177 Outside, the red-winged oriole flaunts his plumage gay, And soars into the blue deep, trilling his sweetest song ; While the oleander blossoms in the hawthorn shade. The timid fawn, thy pet and plaything, Retires not now at my approach, But watches with its great beseeching eyes For the coming of thy footsteps down the garden-walk. The busy world keeps up its masquerade and farce, Where hearts are broken, and souls bartered For that glittering dross that men call gold. Through the sunny summer-fields I walk as in a dream, Crushing the purple daisies 'neath my feet, mindful only Of .the hours when I plucked them for thy pleasure. The skiff lies moored within the shadow Of the ancient pine that overhangs the banks Of the lake whose glittering surface Erst was rippled by the course it made When freighted by our happy hearts. Thou wert the secret link that bound my soul Unto a higher life, which is not broken, But drawn out in greater lengths, that reach Even now from thine eternal home Down to me stricken and dazed with grief. 12 178 DEAD. And I must see the casket that enshrined So fair a jewel borne from me, And shrouded 'neath the damp and mould ; While I forevermore shall go through life Inwrapped with pain and grief That death hath severed this my earthly bond. No voice of mine crying up to God Can call thee back, that art among the angels ; And so my soul yearns for gentle patience To infold me like a white-winged dove, Until I, too, shall shrouded sleep, And summer-winds a requiem keep, And daisies bloom, and forest-flowers, And genial sun, and gentle showers, Fall on my grave through the summer-hours. THE MORNING-GLORY. 179 THE MORNING-GLORY. ONE day I sat within my room, All sick, and bowed with grief: The sound of rain fell on my heart As drops on the withered leaf ; And the winds made moan, and the winds made sigh, Like a human heart in its desolate cry : It beat at the pane, with the raindrops beat, And stole like a wail round the dead in their sleep. The sky was heavy, the sky was gray ; And darkly lowered the clouds : They shut out the sunshine, they shut out the blue, And hung o'er the mountains in watery shrouds, And clung to the hills, and clung to the river, And dropped their mists where the aspens quiver ; They bent o'er the plains, and shut from my view The nodding harebells purple and blue. 180 THE MORNING-GLORY. Alone in my grief with the mournful winds, And the drip, the drip, of the mournful rain, And the shrouding mists, that shut me out From view of mountain, or view of plain. 'Neath my casement one flower bloomed alone : On it the tempest had beaten, and the falling rain ; But it brightly bloomed and brightly shone As the nodding bluebells on the plain. Its tints were pale, at the petals pale, But deepened into royal purple, With the faintest pink on its delicate edge, And creeping round its velvet circle. 'Mid the winds that beat, and the rains that fell, All day it bloomed in sweetness, And shone like a star through the desolate hours, And drooped its head in meekness, Till the storm passed away, and one sunbeam Tarried on the hills alone, And the rosy clouds in rosy mass Above the mountains shone. OUANQS8. One parting glance, its velvet folds Beneath the pale, the petals pale : It bloomed no more, but shrank to death Underneath a leafy veil. But I saw a moral in its brief, bright life, And in its pleasant ending, And prayed that my dreary day be fraught With goodness and virtue, blending With a hopeful trust through its perilous way, That at last shall end in eternal day. CHANGES. A MILLIOK stars hung in the sky ; A million flowers bloomed on the earth ; A thousand voices went whispering by ; A thousand souls struggled into birth. Thousands lay dead on the battle-field ; Thousands languished on beds of pain ; A thousand souls went out in the night, As millions swelled on the upper plain. 182 CHANGES. A million woes struck a million hearts : O God ! in the dank and cheerless night A million's honor was sold in the marts, As millions struggled towards the light. A million changes rang round the world ; o o * The sea rolled over its million graves, And from its bosom, threatening, hurled A million surging, seething waves. O God ! in the night raise a million souls, Passing away o'er the soundless tide, Sinking in quicksands, sinking in shoals, That stretcheth 'neath them far and wide, O Father of mercy ! raise them high, High to the land 'bove the starry dome ; And, ye guardian angels wandering nigh, Oh ! bear these million spirits home. VAIN. 183 IN VAIN. IN vain for me the earth is bright ; In vain for me the soft sunbeam Sheds on the earth a golden light ; In vain for me its palest gleam ; In vain, in vain, the cool wind sweeps Across the ancient wold ; In vain for me the moonbeam sleeps In faint and shadowy fold ; Oh ! all in vain the roses bloom Within my garden-bower : For white and cold through the misty gloom Cometh to me the hour When I saw her dead. The rosy Morn Her banner hung across the sky : Its folds were crimson, and wrought upon With amber and purple dye. 184 IN VAIN. Silent she lay in her snowy shroud ; * Upon her lip a smile : 'Twas like a moonbeam hid in cloud, But shining all the while. The cloud was death : oh ! nevermore By yonder restless sea ; Ah ! nevermore, when the moonbeams pour Their silver flood on me, Shall I pause to pluck the sea-flower white, Lured by the creeping tide, Or watch with her the gleaming light Upon the ocean ride. O sea ! dreamless within the sound Of thy melancholy sweeping plaint She sleepeth now, in wrapped around With memories like a saint. But now on thy shores, oh ! not in vain Does the sunbeam gild the cloud : Swell, restless sea ! thy high refrain Like an anthem deep and loud. 72V VAIN. 185 For behold yon setting sun ! Behold yon western sky, With its crimson glory, sweeping down Where the purple masses lie ! Behind it a city there lies : In its midst she dwelleth now, With a daze of glory in her eyes, A crown upon her brow. She heareth me not, she seeth me not, As she walks by the silver sea : Her robes are white, all lustrously wrought j And their lustre falls on me. Methinks her sweet music rings Hiq;h through the arch of heaven : o o Faint echoes of the song she sings Steal through the gates of even. O pearly gates that shut me out ! O wonderful streets of gold ! O placid sea that Avinds about In many a shining fold ! 186 TUT WILL BE DOSE. I would that I dwelt within your light, In the midst of the city fair That stretcheth so far beyond my sight ; And she awaiteth me there. THY WILL BE DONE. Low unto thy will I seek to bow, Father, dwelling up in heaven ; Though sorrows encompass me now, As I walk through the mists of even. Yet my soul fain would wander Up to thy realms of light, As all desolate I ponder. Through my life's dreary night, Waiting for an eternal dawning To break upon the fields of day, Where night is never, nor morning, Up in the heavens away. COME BACK. 187 COME BACK. COME back to me, O lost, lost hope ! How the night- winds moan on the desolate shore ! Oh ! come back to me, my faith and trust ; Or have ye fled me forevermore ? My frail bark lies stranded on the sluggish tide, Its sails all rent by the reckless storm ; And shadowy hands are beckoning me : I cannot wait for the coming morn. The heavens are black with portentous clouds : I know that behind them the stars still shine 7 But through their dread darkness there gleams no light Into this desolate heart of mine. 188 A THUNDER-STORM. A THUNDER-STORM. THE clouds are piled in the western sky Like the mountains' rugged rifts ; While the deepening thunder rolls Adown the rocky cliffs ; And hills repeat the echoes low Till they die away on the plains below. Athwart the sky, athwart the clouds, The lightnings zigzag flash Like angry bolts from heaven sent ; And I list to the awful crash, And tumble and roll into chasms deep, Of rocks that are rent from the mountain steep. The forest monarch uprooted lies, Of all its glory shorn ; The tempest hurls with resistless force The mighty flood adown KOSES. 189 The river's bed, whose angry surge Rises high above the storm's own dirge. But my soul soars aloft above the din To the peaceful, distant shore Where the angels wait to let me in, And wait and wait evermore, With raiment white, and harps of gold, Singing a song that is never old. ROSES. ROSES red, roses white, Gather for the bride to-night Cast them loving at her feet, Roses red and roses sweet. Roses red, roses white, Gather for the dead to-night : Bind them to the frozen feet, Roses red and roses sweet. 190 POSES. Let the snowy clusters twine ; Let the glowing red enshrine The marble pallor of the face : Lift the hands with gentle grace, Folded in unbroken rest O'er the cold and pulseless breast. Pluck the fragrant buds of May, Violets sweet and tulips gay ; While the flooding light of day Dies upon the hills away. Roses red and roses white Gather for the bride to-night : Let the fragrant buds intwine, Let the lily-blooms enshrine, The midnight hair, the brow of snow : The roses red her cheeks outglow. Oh ! roses red and roses white Gather for the dead to-night : Let the waxen hands infold The daisies' smile, the lilies' gold. THOU DIDST FORGET. 191 Wed the bride, bury the dead, Roses white and roses red ! They will wither, they will bloom, While foldeth the dreary night in gloom Over the bride and over the tomb. THOU DIDST FORGET. ALAS ! thou didst forget That day long ago When under the limes we met, Beneath the fervid glow Of Orient skies, and by the sea : Thou didst forget, ah, me ! Thy cheek was like the rose ; Thy midnight hair hung down ; White lilies clasped it close, And wreathed it like a crown. Thy hand that lay in mine, love, Fluttered like a prisoned dove. 192 THOU DIDST FORGET. The sea it rolled away With many a tuneful plaint ; Soft the moonlight lay, Like robe upon a saint, Over the limes. Ah me That thou didst forget Under Orient skies and by the sea ! I would we'd never met ! You taught me to forget. Under the limes we walked, Under the limes. The wind it frisked, and mocked The river's chimes : I heard it on the hills afar, Above where gleamed the evening star. Oh ! happy was my heart that night Under the limes ; The moonbeams quivered white Under the limes ; Down in the fields the corn was ripe ; Across the meadows the call of the snipe THOU DIDST FORGET. 193 I heard. The distant swell, The soft, mysterious chimes, Of the winds adown the dell, Walking under the limes, And the subtle essence of many blooms Yielding all their rich perfumes, Came to my senses, ah me, The silver chimes Of the river and the sea, Under the limes ! But I would we'd never met ! For you taught me to forget The sweetest dream of all my youth Under the limes : My belief in goodness, truth, Listening to the chimes Of the river and the sea, You taught me to forget, ah me I 13 194 THE WATCH-TOWER. THE WATCH-TOWER. THE 'wildering gleams of her midnight hair Were hanging unto her feet As with agile step she clomb the stair Her mid-day tryst to keep : The sun hung high, and his reddening glare Purpled the strands of her midnight hair. The woods were aflame with red and gold ; The ripened harvest clung O'er the russet fields in many a fold ; And the ripened berries hung And hid in clusters 'mong the brown, The red-brown leaves a-drooping down. The great salt sea that never sleeps, It lay like a glassy plain ; It curled round the rocks that rose in heaps High "gainst the sandy main ; THE WATCH-TOWER. 195 s Its dash and swell came like a knell, The distant knell of a tolling bell. The tower was round and iron-bound, And fettered with gyves of steel : A climbing rose with clusters crowned The gyves of iron and steel, As the stair she clomb in breathless haste, Scanning the salt sea's glassy waste. And the red sun shone as a snowy sail She descried in the distance afar : Her blushing cheek told its own love-tale ; Her eyes, like the morning star, Seemed the distance to pierce ; and her raven hair Fell at her feet as she clomb the stair. The topmost point of the tower she reached : Her garments were like the snow When it drifted lies in billowy heaps Beneath the moon's pale glow ; The breeze it tossed and twisted the floss, And fanned the blush her cheek across. 196 THE WATCH-TOWER. On came the ship in track of foam ; While leaped the. dolphin high : The salt sea looked as if newly sown With belts of sapphire sky. O'er russet fields a dove she hailed As the ship sailed on, and faster sailed. The dove wheeled down where the roses crowned The gyves of iron and steel : Around his throat she softly bound A tiny silken reel All woven and wound with her midnight hair, That reached her feet as she cloinb the stair. Up the bird floated, up, till a cloud Blackened the great salt sea ; And the furious tide rolled like a shroud All over the sandy lea ; The tower it rocked ; the wind made talk With the waves that answered with a mock. And round the tower the sea-bird flew ; The ship it sailed on ; The wind it raved and wildly blew, And shrieked to the rising storm ; THE WATCH-TOWER. 197 The great ocean hissed and roared and foamed Around the tower that creaked and groaned. Her midnight hair was wet with spray ; Her snow-white garments too : But still the ship it sailed away, And the wind it blew and blew, And the black clouds bent with withering frown, And the red leaves fell with the russet brown ; And the tide it whirled, and the tide it curled. But the lady in the tower, That clomb the stair with midnight hair Clasped with the running flower, She saw the ship ; its sails were rent : She saw the dove ; its strength was spent. She heard the breakers ; she heard the roar Around the mountains in the sea ; She saw the tide plough the sandy shore, And furrow the sandy lea : The uprooted trees it quick gulped down ; While the sky looked on with withering frown, 198 THE WATCH-TOWER. And poured its flood, and shot out its fire, And rolled its thunder over the strand, And rose and fell with fitful ire In vengeful mood all round the land. The ship it plunged on like a huge bird shorn, With broken spars and white sails gone. On the ocean a speck, that might be a gull, Or a mermaid combing her hair. Not a sound was heard 'mid the ominous lull That fell on the earth and air, Till the black tower swayed, and the gyves of steel Bent to the blast like a bending reel. God save our souls ! the ship it is doomed ; And ocean-spirits wait To fold beneath a sunless tomb, And glut and fatten and sate, And sport with the ship as it goeth down, While the skies look on with withering frown. The timbers part with a creak and groan ; Wildly the sea-spirits call ; The speck it rideth 'mid the white foam That riseth like a wall THE WATCH-TOWER. ]00 Around the breakers, and round them it flies 'Mid bolts that rend the frowning sides. Oh the tiny boat ! it breasteth the storm : It must be an angel bright Sits at the helm, guiding it on, With face like the morning light ! No : 'tis the maiden fair with midnight hair, With garments of snow, that clomb the stair. With a shriek and a moan the ship goes down ; Loud the breakers roar. Atop of the billows, atop of the foam That sweeps from the inland shore, The white maid sits : her hair it dips In the salt sea-foam that from it drips. To a broken spar 'mid the white sea's surge There clingeth a manly form ; While beat and roll like a terrible dirge Weird spirits of the storm, And swell and call, and call and swell, And beat and beat, like a tolling bell. 200 THE WATCH-TOWER. But over the swell, the surge and swell, The small craft rideth fast : Lo ! now there pealeth the watch-tower bell ; And its brazen tongue doth cast All over the sea a brazen sound, Rocking the tower with iron bound. Steady at helm ! while the merciless sea, Striving with might and main, Tearing and roaring in maddest glee, Shrieketh out in its maddest pain : Ah ! a hand it flutters ; pale lips mutter A name alone the waves ne'er utter. And the fluttering hand drags the stiffened form Oh, the tiny boat rides fast ! Down from the tower and through the storm The brazen bell doth cast Its brazen sound all over the land ; And the sea ploughs up the ancient strand. Saved, O God ! by a brave, true soul ! An angel guided it on ! Now down from the tower there oft doth roll The sound of the maiden's song ; A MIDNIGHT DRKAM. 201 And the roses twine, and the red sunshine Flashes soft on the ocean's brine, Purpling the strands of her raven hair As with agile step she climbs the stair. A MIDNIGHT DREAM. IN my midnight dreams methought again I trod The pleasant paths where my childish feet so oft had strayed. Again I wandered by the placid lake where all day long The birds wheeled and circled, and carolled forth Their sweetest songs ; and where the mighty forest- trees, Whose waving tops my vision scarce could scan, Mirrored themselves ; while through their glossy foli age Long, slanting sunbeams resplendent crept. Again for me the wild rose bloomed With a sweetness no other roses ever had ; Again the purple violet and clover-blooms 202 A MIDNIGHT DREAM. With careless hand I plucked : and in my dream I heard the sound of bells stealing soft upon the morn ing air ; And, as my wont, my way I wended To the little church where the pastor of the flock Jn simple language told of One who died To save an erring world. Behind the church reposed in death's long sleep My ancestors, those who, .with bold, undaunted front, Quailed not at danger, but who, with deathless faith In God, the mighty ocean crossed, That they might worship him in peace. Ah, heroes and conquerors in Life's fierce battle ! Are ye not angels now, where before the throne in heaven Ye worship Him both day and night ? Still I dreamed on, and fancied in my dreams That father, mother, sister, brother, all were there ; And, as of old, with smiles and gentle words, And tones of love, that so beguile Our youthful hearts, with me They still pursued life's journey, pausing oft DECORATION-DAY. 203 To pluck the sweetness from its flowers, Lingering longest where the sunshine lingered. Ah me ! I awoke. Was it but a dream, That in the still night the God of all love Sent an angel to cheer me, and bid me look From this sorrowful life to his mansions above ? DECORATION-DAY. WE mourn a nation's dead to-day, A nation's dead : O Father in heaven away ! Around us spread A mantle of peace, till, like a sea, Our souls unite in praise to thee. With the sweetest blooms.of May, Clusters of roses red We'll softly wreathe to-day Over our nation's dead ; While the muffled sound of the rolling drum Mingling falls with the booming gun. 204 DECORATION-HYMN. O'er these sacred mounds let an anthem swell For the nation's dead, Till the echoes roll o'er hill and dell, And earth and sky seem wed, And one grand anthem break o'er the sea, Till worlds unite in praise to Thee. DECORATION-HYMN. ROUND the graves of these heroes in spotless glory We'll lovingly twine Spring's brightest bloom : The infant, the youth, the aged and hoary. Slow passing on to the wide-yawning tomb, Singing praises to God that peace it now floweth, Like a white, spotless sea, all over the land ; Till far through the wide arch of heaven it pealeth, And the echoing strains reach the angel-band. In the tomb slept our Saviour : now, the Holy of ho lies, At the right hand of God he sits on the throne, And lovingly bends from his radiant glories To whisper to mortals, " Your sorrows I've known." THE VOICE OF NIGHT. 205 Scatter blossoms, sing praises ; for Jesus in heaven Received their bright spirits as they left the cold clay, And swift exit made through the dim gates of even Up to fair fields of light beyond earth away. THE VOICE OF NIGHT. THE sweetest buds of May Shine on the fields ; The glowing light of day Unto night yields. The moon she riseth now Up from the eastern sea : With faint, placid glow Her beams fall on me. The stars, like gems of light, Glitter far away : Out in the solemn night Voices seem to say, 206 THE VOICE OF NIGHT. Chanting to the hills Around the ancient sea, Chanting to the fields Beyond the emerald lea, " There is a land of beauty, There is a world so bright, Where spirits dwell in glory Beyond mortal sight. " The bending heavens hide it ; The soft, glimmering moon Holds not a radiance like it, Brighter than sun at noon." Now the night grows dark and deeper ; The sea wails aloud : Pale the midnight sleeper Rises in his shroud ; For he hears Death a-calling ; Beholds a spectre pale Out of the blackness rising, Out of the shadowy vale ; THE V01UE OF NIGHT. 207 And the angels ever chanting, Floating o'er the fields, Chanting to the darkness, Waiting till the peals Of echoing music break ' Over the plains above, And all the earth it wake To joy and light and love. And on the dead and living The risen sun shines ; But the angels, ever chanting Up in holy climes, Wave their snowy pinions, And tune their harps of gold ; And the living weep, while the dead are asleep Under the damp and mould. 208 IN THE LONG-AGO. IN THE LONG-AGO. SOFT gleamed the evening star In yon blue dome ; Sailed the white moon afar, And on the sea shone ; High rolled the tide, higli on the shore, And beat on the sands with sullen roar. On the hillside the purple daisies slept, And slept the pule sea-flower ; Wan the lilies looked, as if they wept All in night's still hour ; Gently sighed the winds across the lone wold, Where rested the moonbeam in shadowy fold. On the sands we paused, then parted evermore : Now I wander by the gray sea alone. The tide rolls high on the sandy shore ; The white moon sails through yon blue dome, On the lonely wold soft rest her beams ; 'Neath the boiling flood the sea-flower gleams. UPON THE HEIGHTS. 209 But the sweet star of eve it slimes not for me, Nor soft creeps the wind across the lone lea : But a ship I discern far out on the sea ; It sails o'er the breakers like a white-plumed bird ; It passes the sand-bar like a spectre unheard. Death sits at the helm, moveless and grim : Undaunted I'll enter to welcome him. UPON THE HEIGHTS. UPON hoary heights I stand : Below me winds a stream ; Swift and broad and grand Its silver waters gleam Amid plains ancient and gray, With beauty girt this wondrous day. Wide yawns the chasm at my feet : The river sweeps below ; Yet shadows soft from yonder peak, And the sunbeam's golden glow, Upon it rest ; while far and faint The winds take up its echoing plaint. 14 210 THE SIEliRAS. A crimson cloud goes floating by, Veiling eternal snows ; Like sapphire sea is yonder sky, In placid, deep repose ; Above me far is a dove afloat, With spotted wing and snowy throat. The sunbeam calleth forth the flower ; And it lifts its beauteous head Up to the clouds that gently lower White crystals round its bed, So sweet and fair, as if angel bright Had dropped them in its upward flight. THE SIERRAS. GRAND, mysterious, and sublime, Unto the skies they towering rise ; Unto the plains that sleep beneath The radiant glory of a noonday sun. A thousand lights upon them quiver ; A thousand mystic hues inwrap them. One peak lies all asleep THE SIEKRAS. 211 Beneath a royal-purple veil Which lightly rests upon its hoary head Like a regal-purple crown, White, glittering white in massive grandeur : Some mingle with the clouds, Or shoot upward far beyond All mortal ken, where sapphire Fields above them bend, or A sapphire waveless sea sweeps Round them all its radiant flood. Thought that wanders free The soul, the immortal soul of man Shrinks back in wonder at all the Mysteries that enshroud them where they lie Silent, save with all the voiceless things of Nature ; silent, save when in thunder-tones God speaks, and sends a mountain toppling To the sea ; silent, save when an earthquake, With one convulsive heave, rends in twain The lofty peaks, and tears from the mountain's Heart its secrets, revealing to the Astonished gaze chambers peopled With a thousand mysteries, as if Worlds had gone to sleep, and froze. 212 DOLOR. DOLOR. MORN flushed the sky ; the sun Rose radiant o'er the fields of day ; The dun-hued shadows melted one by one Into unknown realms away. I walked abroad : in globules bright Upon the grass the dew-drops lay ; Upon the fields the star-blooms white Unfolded 'neath the sun's soft ray ; And stole around The low, faint sound Of the whispering winds at play. To stately heights, and snowy-crowned, The mountains uprose in the distance away, And brave and grand In this summer-land, Stretching far out in bold array ; DOLOR. 213 And the bending skies In sweet surprise Blushed till their sapphire hues Wore rosy crown that softly shone Like a halo bright on the misty white, On the fields aglow with purple light. Oh ! never shone a fairer morn Than this morn that shone on me : Birds ne'er warbled a sweeter song Than my heart in its joy and glee. But an hour passed by : athwart the sky Circled a cold, gray cloud ; The wind died out with a wail and a sigh ; The mountains were hid in a misty shroud : And my joy went out with the soft sunshine ; With the frowning clouds it fled : Now ghastly and pale these hands of mine Close round it cold and dead. 214 TO JOSEPHINE. TO JOSEPHINE. THE night lias fled ; sweet morn Has wakened all the earth anew ; Grand, fair, serene, the rising sun Climbs up a sea of blue, And smiles. Forthwith the smiling sky Is all ablaze. The mountains blush. Yon peak, folded 'neath eternal snows, Has donned a royal-purple robe Befitting kings. The modest hills blush too. The ancient plains lie wrapped In splendor, like a sea of gold. Each withered blade of grass Might be a silver spear Dotted with diamonds. Worlds wake up : alas for me ! I wake to sorrow ; while from TO JOSEPHINE. 215 Life's poisoned chalice I turn In bitterness away. Out upon Its troubled sea my frail bark Drifts and drifts on to unknown shores : Beneath my feet the billows heave, And all the trembling flood sweeps Round me like an icy shroud. Afar, only afar, I see the spotless Glory of a day lit up with gladness ; Cool winds fan my fevered brow ; The hum of life begins ; And ships go by with sails Unfurled, like bird on snowy wing. Alas ! life's mocking sea Tempts me to end all weariness In this unwearying strife, and bid Farewell to earth and sky, And make this glorious sun a shroud Wherewith to wrap my weary Feet around ; this radiant earth A pillow, whereon I may repose In dreamless slumber evermore, That tender voice of child Or friend calling through 216 TO JOSEPHINE. The gloom I should not hear, Nor hear the singing birds, Nor see glad spring break on The world once more. Ah, death comes not for me ! Life is the crucible wherein My soul awaits its purifying. That process o'er, these griefs will fade ; These pains that now convulse my soul Will be but earthly shadows Scattered 'mid the waste of time. Eternity's vast shores loom on my vision, Grander, fairer than the sun, More glorious than the day begun ; And my tired spirit patient waits For angels to fold the golden gates Back for my entrance into worlds of light Beyond the change of day or night. UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY Los Angeles This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. Form L9-100m-9,'52(A3105)444 THE LIBRARY B3WBBSITY OF CA LOS ANGELES PS Reed - The Rooky UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY < M || | | || | | | | || | A A 000120550 9 Mountains sunset at PS. 2692 \