I * • \.\ •'';.■ ^-^ BY MARY E . M E L L H . MANCHESTER: Publis H f. d is v W. H. SMITH, & SO N, 1877. DBDICATIOIT Said on? to whom I had been speaking on the subject, can you not choose some dear Friend, one indeed to whom your highest esteem is given ? My heart, which had been beating so tuniul- tuously for a few seconds, suddenly grew calm. Was there not one ? Indeed, how I could have overlooked Her for one single moment be- "qgjue-a rftatter of instant wonder to me. Yes, there is one who gave _.e-_*e^.very first love I had ever known; and, who yet is the greatest comfort I have upon earth ; whose knee is ever ready for my prayer ; whose bi'east hath a loving sympathy for every sorrow, — My Mother, dearest, holiest, best, — - " Whose soft eyes o'er my childhood watched, with fond untiring care ; " Whose whisp t< d blessing softly said, was sweet as utt ;red prayer." Whose life has been a beautiful poem of self-sacrifice for her chil- dren ; on whom a double duty was entailed, demanding therefore in return a twofold tenderness, whose unchanging devotion I can never, never repay; and to whom in .[gratitude and love, I dedicate the first fruits of my labours, _ and beg to subscribe myself her ever grateful and affecticnat3 daughter, The Authoress. Water Lane, Wilmslow, Cheshire, December, 18/G. _______ IP FL E IF J± O E _ In publishing the following, the writer feels that it is but justice to herself to say, that, with a few exceptions, and those writtan chiefly to offer comfort in bereavement, the Poems, of which her unpretending little volume is composed, have not been studiously written with a view to publication, but that they have been slowly accumulating for many years ; and she feels that some, especially the earlier ones, need an apology, coming as they did from the hand of a school girl. That these might have been corrected and improved is certain, but somehow, such a tender feeling from the past clung to them, that with a shrinking sensitiveness for which she herself finds it difficult to account, and with which she can scarcely expect many out of her own circle to sympathise, she has refrained from any alteration, trusting tj the feeling and generosity of the reader. Each one has a history of its own, often a sad one. One great disad- vantage the book will possess, insomuch that the writer has been so singularly placed by surrounding circumstances, that she had not one friend to whom she could apply for advice respecting it, so that it is published entirely without revision of any kind, and with the faults uncorractad ; and so great has been her anxiety on this account as ta parmanentiy injure her health — the strain upon her mind being almost too great to bear alone. Surely, in passing judgment upon it, this will be kindly considered. It would be hard indeed to think otherwise, and also to be exclusively original in an age like the present, when authors abound in almost every class and on all subjects, would seem impossible ; but never intantionally has she used the thoughts of others for her own. The difficulties she has had to surmount have been great : pressing domestic duties which when conscientiously fulfilled, left scarcely one hour to call her own, PREFACE. and then her entire ignorance of everything connected with publish- ing, and the expenses belonging thereto. To quote ficm Hazlitt, " You are no better off if you succeed than if you fail ; you are des- pised if you do not excel others, hated if you do." A most reassuring alternative, and calculated to excite the loftiest spirit of emulation in the mind of one trying to gather from the bewildering chaos of thoughts which crowded in upon her, one grain of comfort. How- ever, the writer wishes neither to be exalted to a gieatness higher than her deserts, nor degraded to an ignoble meanness ; and as she has only consented to publication at the entreaties of many who, with the kindliest consideration and encouragement, have come forwarid-^fe subscribers, it is to these she feels that her warmest thanks are due. That others may find something interesting in her little work, and that her friends may not be disappointed, is the earnest wish of their Obliged and grateful Friend, The Authoress. Not in my thoughts for one presumptuous hour-, To climb the heights, where Fame's bright Sunflowers shine, Light without fragrance is their splendid dower, The unassuming Violet be mine, Whose quiet beauty gladdens lonesome fells, Whose lustrous eye, of its great Maker tells. If to one sister heart in sorrowing need, My voice hath come with soft assuring power; Caused one sad heart lees bitterly to bleed, Whispered of Hope in life's most trying hour, Caused one life's earnest purpose to fulfil, Shewed one who loved it not, the daisied sward, Then lips be silent, throbbing heart be still, For this alone is rich and sweet reward. Is it not something to have soothed and cheered, Arming the weak heart for the strife anew ; When the dark haven of despair was neared, To point where, far, the cloud rift shewed the blue, And but to bless me, one approving eye, Or the warm clasping of a friendly hand, Drawn by the chords of that wide sympathy, PREFACE. Which counts not creed, or colour, speech, or land ; Sees men as brothers in the light of day, And needs not words, for each can understand What the full heart with silent lips would say. And if unto some minds, and these are they, Whose pleasant lives, reck not of storm or shower, There seemeth gloomy shadowings to stray Along the page, where scarce joy's sun had power, Then in all gentleness to them so blest, Sorrow hath ever unto me been kind, Oft in my bosom's shelter she would rest, Her footsteps pressing never far behind. S .ie loves me so, she cannot leave me long, If but we part for a brief, breathing while, She growetU in her absence wondrous strong, And f ainteth not beneath the weary pile Of daily burdens grievous hard to bear, The rustling of her sable robes I know — The lip so grave that never smile may wear, The changeless brow, that may no pity show, But I have seen her when her jetty hair Bore in its braids a gleaming silver star, I smiled to see it softly shining there, And knew that hope would follow from afar. Many a bright dream had summers long gone by, 'Neath Autumn's dead leaves buried mute and low, There have been days when clouds forsook the sky, And Earth to Heaven reflected back the glow; Sweet dreams of youth, as fleeting and as fair, As the bright Iris born of rain and sun, As the rich tints the clouds at dawning wear, Or gold-kissed waves ere eve to night hath run. Take but one flower where fragrant clusters breathe In youth's fair chaplet, bearing hues divine, Scarce yawns a chasm, in the redundant wreath, Or fondly o'er it fresh green tendrils twine, But the deep-root jd hope of lat >r years — Knit with the heart-strings, ingrained into life, Take this and desolation's self appears, And dearth, and doom, in the waste land are rife. I know the great world hath a beating heart, And love for those who may its pulses stir, But stands it eager for the condemner's part, All, all I ask is to be comforter. CONTENTS. Isidore 3 Love versus Gold 14 Little Frank 21 Evening Shadows 22 Bridal -''Offering 23 Christ's entry into Jeru- salem 24 New Tear's Eve, 1874 25 Aweary 27 On niv baby's Funeral Card 28 A Sudden Death 28 Farewell 31 A Birthday Greeting 32 Ctmstinet 33 Wl -lconie to Garibaldi 34 ty 'aufif ifT*Sea 35 Under the Spell 35 Baby's Lullaby 37 Consolations of the Gospel 39 Of Such is the Kingdom of Heaven 40 Oak Farm, near Cheadle, Cheshire 41 Removing 42 Unforgotten, to E. J. D. ... 44 Orange Blossoms 46 Welcome to Albert Victor, The Young Prince of "Wales 47 Come Back 48 To a Swallow 49 A Dream 50 A Harvest Hymn 52 Mine 53 Morning and Evening at Wilmslow Church 56 For Ever 58 Lost 59 God Giveth His Beloved Sleep 61 The Loved Ones Gone Be- fore 62 Won 64 On Visiting Middleton Church 65 The Lost- at Sea 66 Long Ago 67 The Death of the Young Seamstress 69 Parted 71 Alone 72 To April 74 Love and Sorrow 75 O Had I Wealth 79 To an Atheist 80 False 81 Stanza 83 Once and For Ever 84 Evening 85 Thoughts on Christmas... 85 The Fairy and the Flowers 80 Praise Ye the Lord 88 Answered 88 A Tradition of Eotherithe 90 Deserted 93 Phantasma 94 Mine no Longer 96 To E on Her Birthday 96 To the Memory of H.E.H. Prince Albert 97 Too Late 98 For Love 100 Montelan 10 3 Night 107 Semper Eadem 108 Reminiscences 109 Evangeline 113 Bereaved 115 True 118 In Memoriam L23 Poesy 122 A Birthday Musing \S.\ Hope On L26 A Memory 1J7 Treu End Fest L29 Not Lost, but Gone Before 1 :{ I ISIIDOIRE AND OTHER POEMS. ISIDORE. The sun of early autumn streamed upon a cortege gay ; 'The _, footsteps of a fan- yoimg bride passed o'er the flower-strewn •*"" way ; 'Anthmerrlly the joy bells pealed from many a grey church tower, •'&s -through the vale, and up the hill, they told the love-crowned ' hour. Two barques upon a sea of life sped with united sail, And rich the freight of Love and Hope, and dear the oft-told tale ; A fairer sight was seldom seen — a proud and princely form, That vowed to shield that sweet young life from every blighting storm ; To scatter roses in her path ; to thrust the thorns aside ; To cherish with a deathless love his fond and trusting bride. Rich were the costly robes that fell around her form so fair, And gems upon her white brow flashed, and in her raven liair. 'Twas not of these she thought or cared — the gem all price above, The star of all her sweet hope lay in her young bridegroom's love ; A tear upon her drooping lash himg trembling in the light : Than words more richly eloquent, that teardrop warm and bright ; He saw — and closer then was pressed the little trembling hand, Within his clasp that fluttering lay, nor fears could long with- stand ; The passionate devoted love which in Ids clear eye shone, And bade her spirit's strife be st 11 : her doubt and fear begone ; Sweet to her heart his sympathy, though silently expressed, A holy calm hushed all the fears that trembled in her breast, It seemed as in a deep, deep sea, life's bark at anchor lay, Where ros • no rocks her soul to fright, and storms fled far away ; From heart to lip a beaming smile arose in answering love, He blessed her for her gent e trust : how vain that trust mighl ISIDORE. Alas ! that two such kindred heai-ts, so framed for love and bliss, Should e'er in cold indifference pine — no pang were worse than this ; The Winter sped unheeded by, for love was all the theme, And life a rosy path of bliss, a bright unbroken dream. And Spring in all its pride returned with blessings for the earth, With softer airs, and blooming flowers, and warbled songs of mirth. Bat sunmier's breath brought gloom and doubt — a change, which scarce defined, Si ton loomed into a larger life, perplexing to her mind ; Awhile in sore amazement lost, she could no cause conceive, Bat sternly chid the fears that rose, and bade her heart believe, He who was wont his heaven to find within her sunny smile. On idle pretext absence sought with clouded brow the while ; She could not deem his powers were used, his strength put forth to win A pure young heart, no guile that knew,— that tale of shame and sin Reached not its cliniax while she stayed : a low -breathed slander came, Too proud to stoop its cause to leam, discarding e'en Ids name. Her latent pride his falsehood roused, her outraged heart arose ; Far, far from his her path should lie ere the dark day could close ; Oh, she would give him scorn for scorn for every heart-wrung moan, V keener pang his breast should feel, — forsaken and alone ! And from her desolated heart in one weak moment rose A yearning wish, a prayer for rest, that Death might end her woes. But when did Death, to anguished prayer, his ghastly presence bring, — He loves to steal, with step unseen, where buds of promise spring. To snatch the Mother's fairest pride, wherein her sweet hope lay, From clasping hands, and grief -torn nearts, to bear the prize away. # # # * # * # * # # # Ah ! coidd it be the self-same Earth her feet ere while had trod, "his dai'k Cimmerian rayless gloom — the sunlit world of God ; So true it is that Earth must take its colours from th? heart, Where joy her sunny barque has moored— how beauteous every part. But through a mist of falling tears, coidd the green Earth look fair? <■ orient Heaven no sun reveals — no rosy tints ax • bhere ; ISIDORE. No common mind or spirit hers — a self-sustaining power, A latent soul-felt strength arose to meet the trying- hour ; 'Twas mercy's path her young feet trod : 'twas love she round her spread, And many a sufferer's trembling lips prayed blessings on her head. The Winter wanes : the leafless trees again are bright with bloom, And the grateful Earth rich incense yields in clouds of sweet perfume, And hope once more a robe of light around her soul had thrown, A mother's holy joy was hers, the sweetest she had known, But, ah, those eyes which sought her own of deepest, darkest blue, A banished tenderness recall, a hopeless faith renew. , * ********* TxO 1 true the tale that slander bore, — his fickle fancy chained Jj* yiJubt^Hty which few mortals wear, his passion unrestrained, ,iiiu;st all the bonds which honour gave, he thrust all thought * "_/ away, And lived but in his guilty joy, that bloomed but to decay. Complete in every fatal link, that spirit-galling chain, That wrenched the beauty from her life, and left but tears and pain ; Far. far he bore her where no tongue the direful tale could tell. Till, all too late, like knell of doom, its darkness o'er her fell. He chose an ivy-mantled church, far in a lovely dell, Engirt with hills, beyond whose chain the wild waves rose and fell ; The very air seemed purer round that old and hallowed fane, B >neath wlm.se shade, in dreamless rest, the weary feel no pain. The graveyard like a garden bloomed, 'twas kept with fondest re, For few within that hamlet small but had some dear one there, Ami clusi iring roses sweetly bloomed, and purest lilies bent, Ami many a drooping willow tree its graceful shadow lent. ads were thickly placed where no memorial rose To ' orth or beauty fled to seek aL'ii j repose, i Lin ■ pitaph, nor ilai tering record (<>M Of irhichjjould ne'er exist in form of earthly mould. guardian angel bhen, er( . el the bl ng he knew not, for the birds but trilled a sweeter lay, And the sun unto his zenith rode : no shadow on liis way ; How fair and bright looked earth and heaven, the blue unclouded sky, The glorious sun, whose dazzling beams but pained the gazing eye, _ The tinkling fall of water near, with slumbers in their sound, The warbling birds, the tinted flowers, was this enchanted ground ? And spirit voices seemed to sigh upon the gentle breeze That swept above the fragrant earth, and through the whispering trees ; All, all seemed joyous, bright, and fair, but beamed no hope for him, A lone, unloved, and cheerless life, a future dark and dim ; Remorse upon his soul lay dark, he bent liis burning brow, And prayed that God would mercy show, and grant him comfort now. Composed beyond his earnest hopes, he vowed tliat future years Should know him but by good deeds wrought, — a footstep light he hears, Tho shading boughs were drawn aside, and in the opening stood A form, that to his rebel heart sent back the truant blood, And left him pale and motionless, nor power to smile or grieve, Oh ! of this earthly paradise, was this the beauteous Eve ? A flowing robe of spotless white fell round her graceful form, A vision of rare loveliness, to take a heart by storm, Her slender waist a girdle clasped, she w n<. nor wreath nor gem, Nought but her bright abundant hair, 'twas nature's diadem. Those bright dark eyes, and ruby lips, and curls of shining jet, Coidd but belong to one on earth, oh heaven, 'twas Marguerette, His beautifid neglected one, so wildly sought in vain^ Now dearly prized, and madly loved, liis spirit's swed^efrain ; ISIDORE. 11 'Twas scarce a moment that he stood, ere springing to her side, He clasped her in a wild embrace, his once forsaken bride, And all the thrilling eloquence that e'er had been his own, Came back to aid him with its power in low, impassioned tone, He pleaded long and earnestly, and threw into his tale Such strength of pathos, sadly sweet, as surely must prevail. Through sleepless nights, and wretched days, in high and lowly spot, Where mountains frowned, or valleys bloomed, he had sought, but f ound her not ; And she ! ah, she ! that angel form, was cast in human mould, Her heai-t spoke wildly in his cause when Up and brow were ' ' cold, And strono- within her swelled the love, which ne'er its death had ' '-Thetr P ' She" -could not teach her woman's heart its idol to forget. T Ken o'er her face like sunshine broke the glad sweet smile of yore, And down, like rain, the warm tears gushed from flood-gates closed before ; Not this the blind adoring love which blessed her girlhood's days, With power to brighten rugged paths to fair and flowery ways; That smiled upon the summer heaven, and saw a deeper hue St ';tl with a glory shedding light o'er all the arching blue, Which read the night's sweet mystery, and heard the deeper tone That to the silent spirit comes through all her low wind's moan, Which found new beauty in the wave, and clothed the stars in name, And read in every shining orb its Maker's deatliless name; That touched the brow, o'er all beloved, with wand of fairy lore, And bade its high pale beauty beam with grace not there before; Clothed in such bright ideal rob bwouldseem, A demigod of grace and power, a spirit's blissful dream, In living reverence placed too high, her idol needs must fall With cr i the knowledge came, 'twas human after all; 12 CSIDORE. A proud, impulsive, generous soul, whose impulse held its si n, That bartered all a life-time's peace, a transient bliss to win. ########## With clasping hands they wandered through that garden's flowery maze, While hope sang sweetly in each heart of happy future days — And entered through that blossom'd porch unto a life anew ; A life by sorrow purified to lustre bright and true. With footstep light she passed him then, while cheek and brow so fair, Were radiant with the secret joy which grew to triumph there. Withdrawing from a curtain'd arch, the draperies' crimson fold, His eager sight a vision met whose joy can ne'er be told, For in a low, lace-shaded cot a cherub infant slept; There nightly her fond patient watch had that young mother kept; And while through rosy-parted lips the fragrant breath would steal, She knelt to bless the pitying love which could such joy reveal, This crowning glory of her life when all seemed dark beside ; When grief lay heavy at her heart, or e'en her tears were dried. Bright were the sunny locks that waved the blue-veined temples o'er, And azure as the cloudless Heaven the hue the sweet eyes wore, While deep within their dreamy depths a wondrous beauty lay In all its bright intensity more sweet than words can say, The fair soft cheek just tinged with rose the lips of carmine rare, In parted beauty half disclosed the pearls that glistened there ; A picture sweet to look upon, a sight so free from guile, Might melt the sternest heart to love, or win an angel's smile. "A father," and he knew it not, then surging through his frame In rapture every fibre thrilled unto the holy name. Oh, undeserved hope fulfilled, from this sweet source alone Sprang all the love which pardon gave, though till this hour unknown, He could but clasp her silently, for words were weak and vain, To speak the joy which in his soul hymned a sublhner strain. He could but clasp her silently and bless her as she stood With heaven's sweet sunlight on her brow — a fan- and golden flood, And misty now with tenderness her lustrous eyes grew dim ; But all her bosom's tumult sang a welcome sweet to him, ISIDORE. 13 As when of yore the fond old sire the prodigal forgave, And blessed hhn as a soul reclaimed from error's living grave. She sought to hide the dreary past beneath the present joy, And spoke but words of love and hope which might his grief destroy. With such a pure young monitress for ever by his side, His wavering feet no more essayed the path too early tried, Where grief, the sunlit heaven of God, encanopied with gloom, And sorrow merged to agony, within the darkened room ; There, there his willing footsteps led, his soothing tones were heard Beguiling tedious hours of pain by kindly act and word, Till brightly o'er his altered life the star of promise shone. SJweetly attuned to noble deeds the years flowed smoothly on, "Xn^raisiftg God for all good gifts he placed all praise above, As nobler^ purer far than all — a true wife's deathless love, '/.Thou"sOiu-subdmng power," he sang, '"the living world Thy "sway, Hath ever owned, tis a scepter'd might that cannot pass away ; Thy monarchy is absolute — few, few, Thy power disown ; And that deep unfathomed mystery, the human heart Thy throne ; When vanquished Time shall be no more, high in the heavens above Shall Thy continuance ever reign, for God's dear name is love." He knew not that a broken heart the kindly earth had hid, In mercy veiling all its woe beneath the coffin lid; Nor deemed he of a daisied grave the willow weepeth o'er, Whose spotless marble whitely gleams o'er " Earth-lost Isidore." LOVE VERSUS GOLD. In Raynor Hall 'tis a festal night, The lofty rooms ai*e one blaze of light : Thex - e are blossoms nursed in the wintry hours, For the year as yet is too young for flowers. Draw the crimson citrtains with gentle hand, You shall catch a glimpse of f airyland ; Sweet brows that were born for gems to entwine, And starry eyes that can dim their shine ; The beauty and grace and loveliness Of sparkling eye and shimmering tress. But of all the youths there were nobler none Than Hubert, Lord Eaynor's only son ; And of all the ladies who praise compel,] The fairest was lovely Floribel : No eye like hers that coidd shine so bright, No fairy foot that could fall so light : She swept through the throng unmatched in grace, Of peerless form and lovely face : Grew deeper the rose on many a cheek, To hear the praises that love will speak. While music floats on the perfumed air, And beauty delighteth everywhere : The last of the lingering guests are gone, And mother and son are left alone. Deep thought hies calm on the lady's brow ; The wish of her heart, untold till now,' At the birthday fete she had watched him well, To see if on any his preference fell ; LOVE VERSUS GOLD. 15 But courtly and kind to each and all — And many a beauty had graced the hall — She smiled to think that his heart was free ; That his bride might of her choosing be. ■ The hall is lonely since Edith died, Hubei t, my son, you must take a bride ; So she be fair and of high degree I am careless whom your choice may be : Then she laid one hand on the bright young head — You shall choose the lady, he gaily said ; One month's wild freedom is all I crave, And Lord Hubert has only to ask and have : And is up and away with the morn's first beam, "While his lady mother pursues the theme — ^Sball it be Alice or Lady Maud ? In the pride of her heart she is slow to applaud, For both are wealthy, high-born, and fair; Or Floribel of the golden hair ; Or Lord Esto's daughter, of queenly pride ; Which shall she choose for her son's young bride ? For it entered not into heart or brain That her darling Hubert could sue in vain, And became no part of the mother's dream That her son himself would oppose the scheme. Through boyhood and youth he had bent to her will, And with easy grace he would yield hini still, He would toss the curls from his brow away, Raise his bright dark eyes to her own and say — I bow to the edict, it so shall be, My darling mother shall choose for me. She had mightily pondered long and well, And chosen the lady Floribel. <>n whal fairer brow could the coronel fall, Thai belonged to the lady of Raynor Ball? Bui 1 he monl h's « ild freedom has grown to I ■ And she marvels much where the boy can be. II. comes al la 1 , but upon his brow Some change is wrought : he is silent now Am! Btern, and grave, and by (if I ,.\ — As • • baunl ing t bought away : 16 LOVE VERSUS GOLD. But so noble he looks in his new-born pride, That naught she says of the promised bride, But waits for a gentler, more genial mood — He was not wont o'er his thoughts to brood, And it came ; one morn the cloud seemed gone Prom the brow she so loved to look upon With a mother's fond and anxious eye ; And he kisses her gravely and tenderly, As gently she hinted the time was come Of his promise to brighten her heart and home. His dark eye beaming love and pride : You shall choose the hour but not the bride. In my wanderings late I have met with one Not a lovelier breathes beneath the sun, Such beauty and grace she doth meekly wear, And her heart is pure as her face is fair. You were careless on whom the 'lot might fall : The bride I bring shall outshine them all, And nobly among them she'll bear her part : She is gracefully nature, they, by art : Beauty and grace her glorious dower, She will match the lilies — my woodland flower, 'And your father, Hubert," a flush of red Passed hot o'er his brow as the words she said. My lordly father, yes pride and ire Tempered with scorn, compose my sire ; Shall I kneel at his feet and plead in vain, He would glory in aught that gave me pain. Hubert, the lady gravely said, Why leaps to your cheek the angry red ? Eemember, my son, 'twas the sudden blow Of Edith's death which has changed him so. That he loves you well in my heart I feel, Though he broods o'er a wound that time will heal : I am deeply grieved that you so should speak. Mother, I have not yoiu\spirit meek; He will yield to you what he yields to none. Lord Kay nor' s pride lives again in his son : My steed at the turret basement waits, Ere the hour has waned I shall pass the gates, LOVE VERSUS GOLD. 17 And wlien next you see me my bride is won, You shall gain a daughter, nor lose a son. You best to my father the tale can break, You must love her, mother, for Hubert's sake. * Ah, the words in her heart are a subtle spell. He hath real her gentle nature well. Yes, the storm or anger may fiercely break, She will brave it all for Hubert's sake ; For no love on earth hath such fervour won As a mother's love for an, only son. In him is renewed his father's youth, THie brow of pride and the lip of truth. When he bends, from his stately height to bless, -iier heart leaps high to that fond caress. She may have daughters fair and dear, And their weal to her heart lies warmly near : '• But he, her daring, her joyous one, Whose eye (like the eagle's) would meet the sun Who fears no ills that the years may bring, Defying time on his hghtning wing ; How can, she weep that her youth is gone With his brave, bright manhood to lean upon. No love on'earth hath such fervour won, As a mother's love for an only son. Oh ! he knows of one in a lowly home — What bliss with her through the world to roam j To watch the sweet lights flush and fade In the fairest luce that God has made ; To kiss her lips thai are oh, so red, Till cl I- and brow are withcrimson spread ; To clasp ber close to his heart and tell How for months he has loved her loiif, r and well To kneel at her feel and fondly call Her f aires! , and t of all ; Ah ! > etter 1 ban wear! I> untold, Alas, for the lady who lacked not gold. LOVE VEESUS GOLD. 18 And alas for all that his sire might say, As booted and mounted he rides away, By road and river, by field and tree, Half lost in a dreamy reverie. He thinks with a thrill of her sweet surprise, Her sunny tresses, her soft blue eyes, Her tiny foot, with its fairy fall, And a nameless grace that pervadeth all. While faster and faster the good steed flew, — Oh, his heart's impatience it surely knew, — She shall roam with him over summer seas, Where the blue wave cm-Is to the whispering breeze ; She shall feel the tin-ill of the mountain air, Oh the breezy heights that his soul could dare ; And in classic lands he will show her then Earth's mightiest teachings by brush and pen. He stays not to note that the budding bowers Bear radiant promise of early flowers ; That a few faint blossoms have peeped to see If the sun is shining on lane and lea ; And the birds' sweet voices unheeded fall, For love hath a spell beyond them all ; He sees where the bowing landlord waits, At the ancient hostelry's open gates. And he knows that warm were the welcome won, For his honoured father's more honoured son, Where the quaint old dragon slowly swings, Bat his heart is dead to such earthly things. Hath only room for one hope, one aim, As softly he utters a girl's sweet name ; Nor feels he hunger, or thirst or pain, As he gives his willing steed the rein. One effort more and the goal is won, And bravely the charger galops on Till he startles the birds in the leafy lane, And draws at the wicket his bridle rein. Will she joy in the tale he comes to tell ? Will she leave all for him who loves her well ? Who will make her of heart and home the queen, As fair a bride as the world has seen. '19 LOVE VEB6U3 GOLD. Will the white lids droop o'er the starry eyes, As softly blue as Italian skies ? Will she listen in silence the neath the sod j A young life's promise lost ere twenty years were trod : Hi sad untimely death lies heavy at one door ; Tli. 're is one from wild reproach .shall l>.' free — ah! nevermore. 34 POEMS. We have buried her to-day, just beneath the chancel wall, And to-night upon the spot the silvery moonbeams fall ; The kindly deeds she wrought while in life she had the power, Leave a memory behind her like the perfume of a flower. WELCOME TO GARIBALDI, ON THE OCCASION OF HIS VISIT TO LONDON IN 1864. Welcome, thrice welcome, brave soldier of freedom, Unto the shores where thy name is so dear ; Bright eyes grow brighter — oh, would thou couldst see them, Eager with joy as thy footsteps draw near. Highly we prize the proud name that thou bearest ; Bravest to dare where so many were brave ; Hero of heroes — of patriots the rarest- — Glory attends where thy free banners wave. And oh, there are those whom, though humble, will cherish The light of thy smile as a boon from above : A sweet sacred memory never to perish ! Born of the true heart whom to know is to love. When splendour and wealth are all lavished around thee, And even the noblest give praise to thy worth, Yet, yet, oh forget not the people have bound thee Close to their hearts, true if lowly of birth. Afar there are those who for freedom contending, All bravely they stand, yet thy succour may nerd : Their deep love for thee, and their fond pride still blending, Will follow with blessing and wish thee God speed. Welcome, thrice welcome, illustrious stranger, May Lhy health with the summer's sweet roses return, That when far away, amid death-wail and danger, The fire in thine eye with new ardour shall burn. '- ' BEAUTIFUL SEA. Beautiful sea ! beautiful sea ! Some magic spell there dwelleth in thee ; ■Stormy or gentle, still wild and free : Dearly I love thee, beautiful sea ! Beautiful sea ! when the sun's decline Hath flooded the west with his parting sign, Wondrous and lovely then to behold, With thy tinted wavelets of heaving gold. Beautiful sea ! when the moon is bright, Bathing thy bosom in silvery light, "VJhen each pale sweet star looks down upon thee In tremulous rapture, beautiful sea ! Beautiful sea ! when the tempests ride In storm-bound car o'er thy wrathful tide, Turning thy waters to snow-white foam, While the sailor sighs for Iris far-off home, Blending wonder with awe we then gaze upon thee, Proudly triumphant, beautiful sea ! Beautiful sea ! when thy passion o'er, Thy gentle waves kiss the peaceful shore ; Oh, that my requiem sweet might be Thy murmuring music, beautiful sea ! UNDER THE SPELL. Think not she knows if the dress she weareth Be costly and rich, or poor and old ; When the wand of a priestess aloft she beareth, And her Robes imperial fold Hath its sable " a with stars that are fairer, Than ye of the earth behold. O'er the bare brown moorland her rapt gaze wanders, Afar ■■ dlls be, Anl she bears in a revel of awe and wonder What tli • storm spirit saith to the sea. 3G POEMS. Soaring as high as her soul essayeth The bird's brave wings would tire ; To the blue bright Heaven the lark can reach not,- Her thoughts in their flight aspire. In a trance of beauty the night is round her, And it seems as her soul had wings That might cleave the heights of the great eternal. And with quivering lip she sings. TO THE SPIRIT OF THOUGHT. Where is thy dwelling proud spirit ? Is it high on the mountain's crest, "Where the sun but touches to dazzle, And the snows of the ages rest ? Doth it ride on the wings of the tempest, The foam of the curling wave, Or lower in deeps of ocean Than storms can reach to rave ? Surely the sea might enthrone th«e, Spirit of grandeur and might. In a palace whose richest splendours Plash not on mortal sight. Girt and encrusted with Jewels — Coral, and Pearl, and Gold, — Treasures that never were counted, Wonders that cannot be told. Gems kings shall have not for craving, Though the prize were a kingdom and crown, Where death awaits the explorer Who dares to the depths go down. Where he wieldeth his sceptoe unconquered, While the tempest worketh his will, A nd he counteth his slain by thousands, — Grim and insatiate still. Where the mermaiden sings as she wanders, While the blossoms her pale hands hold, Are more delicate, fair, and lovely, Than in gardens of earth unfold. POEMS. 37 .• Nor mountains nor sea can enchain thee ; Might must thy guerdon be ; That linkest the years unto ages, And maketh the nations free. • The despot quakes at thy spreading ; The God-given light that is thine Hath its seat and its centre in heaven, The mind of man its earth shrine. TT -H" "IP * *?!" TT tI* *W W* But a light step over the threshold boundeth ; A child's voice filleth the silent room, Sweet as if sent from the spheres it soundeth, vNo flower as those lips hath such sweet perfume. Blue are the eyes in her own up smiling, Whose loner dark fringes the fan cheeks shade ; "For the one sweet gift which her God vouchsafes her, - She loveth all things his hand hath made. Closely around her the fond clasp clingeth, A warm little cheek to her own is pressed, Away to the winds her cares she flingeth, For one sweet hour of love and rest. In the tender lips that cheer and chide not, But ever in love unquestioning clings ; That have power to take from the clouds their darkness, And cheat life's sorrows of half their sting. Though the tones are harsh that should but be gentle, And coldness liveth where love were best; .Life's undercurrent hath sweets unnumbered, Ah ! here is comfort, and hope, and rest. And faint in the east a light is sliining, The morns pale promise unveils a star, The summer dying leaves yet one blossom And joy on her bright wings waits afar. BABY'S LULLABY. Bright axe thine eyes, love; oh, nc. sorrow O'er thei ud lieauty throw aus'ht of its gloom, Veiled i i eeing God's mystic to-morrow ; 1 I ak not its silence, dread trumpet of doom. 38 POEMS. Ah ! why cans't thou smile since to-night I am weeping ; A thousand forebodings so trouble my rest : But as calm as a lake where the moonbeams are sleeping Is the dear little face pillowed warm on my breast. Smile on, for thy heart is too young to know sorrow ; Smile on, for thine eyes are too happy for tears ; And the dark sullen cloud that o'ershadows the morrow May break but in drops that shall lighten our fears. Ah ! why is my spirit so troubled and shaken — So fearful of fate in its trembling unrest ? And why in the silence of night to awaken, And smile when in prayer is my weakness confessed ? Could thy mother, my sweet one, thy destiny sway, What a lot should be thine on life's river to glide : "With never a cloudlet to darken thy way, Nor a gale that could swerve thy light shallop aside Like a carol of joy in a garden of bloom, Where the zephyrs sigh fragrance, the trees whisper love, Where the beautiful flowers are all rich with perfume, And the heavens in glory are smiling above. Oh, God ! of thy blessings the brightest and best. Thy gifts of the richest, the pm-e, and the sweet : To crown her awaking, to soothe her at rest, Is the cry of the suppliant heart at thy feet. July, 1867, That prayer, when summer roses bloomed and summer breezes played Above the green and smiling earth where yet my darling stayed ; But cleaving through the pearly dawn in hour of saddest name The fiat of a mighty hand, the fearfid answer came. Yes, God has blessed her as I prayed, with gifts both rich and sweet, And glorious is the heavenly land she treads with angel feet. I stand beneath the silent stars, and watch their golden blaze, And lift unto the pitying heaven a wild despairing gaze : And vaguely wonder if the heart can e'er its grief forget, Whose sweetest hopes are wrecked and torn, whose s+ar in death is set. Alas for hope, for love, for peace ! the aching sight can see Naught but a tiny new-made grave, where droops a willow tree. November, 1867. POEMS. 39 CONSOLATIONS OF THE GOSPEL. Oli {. come, weary pilgrim, ricli joys are prepared, Since the hour when thy Saviour on Calvary bled ; The work of Redemption determined and dared, Thy sins were all laid on his innocent head. Like a lamb to the slaughter in silence he came, The Saviour so gentle, with thorns on his brow ; Then blessed for ever Enunanuel's name, Who, in glorified holiness pleads for us now. > • '•^Come ye to the waters who thirsting have known, * ---£!oas*'and freely receive, nor a price shalt thou pay; 'l For the stream hath its birth from Jehovah's great tin-one, •> And will flow, never ceasing ; come then while you may. Watch, therefore, and faint not, for narrow the way ; Keep thy light ever shining, thy heart ever pure ; For a star is before thee, whose ne'er fading ray, Shall lead thee in peace where thy rest is secure. Lay up treasure in Heaven, thy Saviour hath said, For there where thy gems and thy riches must lie, There too will thy heart be of Heavenly bread, Fill the need of thy soul for a mansion on high. Oh ! the spirit's sweet goal not on earth shall be found ; Set thy heart then on tilings which no fading shall know ; Build thy future secure upon Heavenly ground, Where nor rust doth corrupt, nor can thieves overthrow. Be gentle and patient whatever befall, 'Tis Jesus' example through insult and woe; And thy ill shall be good, and the pains that appal, Shall enfold thee with blessings ne'er dreamed of below. March on, happy Pilgrim, thy haven is nigh, And its brightness shall bless tin-,., for i ye bath not seen, Nor hath ear ever heard, nor thy thought could supply, Of the bliss that in store for long ages has been. 40 POEM8. OF SUCH IS THE KINGDOM OF HEAVEN Oh, weep not for thy loved and lost, the cloud hath lining fair, Though he may never come to thee, yet thou mayst meet him there. The dove hath found its spotless wings, and soared in happy flight From tears and pain, from grief and care, to realms of dazzling light: Where from his Saviour's radiant face doth love eternal shine. Ah ! sister dear, a happy fate hath blessed that babe of thine ; And there are hours thy soul will mount on faith's bright wings afar, Where dwells encanopied with light thy life's unfading star, Whose clear, bright rays shall reach thy heart with beams of holy love, His presence felt, his influence shed from that bright home above. Oh, think not of him, cold and pale, beneath the daisied sod, But 'mid the shining infant throng — the cherubim of God. They lead him now by living streams, through fields for ever fair, And fadeless flowers and changeless bloom, and glory beameth there. No sin may stain his bright young brow, no tears his eyelids wet. Walk not the earth with mournful feet, in dark and sad regret; The brow thy lips so loved to press a starry crown must wear ; And myriad wings are waving through the light that falleth there. Though death's unerring shaft hath sped and laid thy bright one low, The "hand that gave" can heal the wound and sanctify the blow : Who spoke in ancient Galilee a holy peace be still, Can curb the swelling waves of woe by His Almighty will — Can safely bear through seas of storm whose waves fierce tempests ride, Till " bright as joy " the haven gleams o'er Jordan's outward tide. There's healing balm in Gilead yet — its fount hath source divine, And, as the blessed dew of peace, it falls on grief like thine. Go, cast thy burden at His feet who wipes the mourner's tears, And thou shalt bless His chastening love through long and happy years. To my dearly beloved Sister Emma, on losing her little Son. May, 1871. POEMS. 4'. I TO A SWALLOW. Oh pause, little wanderer, pause in thy flight, For the winds are not cold, and the skies are yet bright, The flowers not all faded, the streams are yet free, Stay, weary one, stay, we've a shelter for thee. There's a warm shady nook where thy dear ones may rest- Can' st thou silence the longing which stirs in thy breast. What! thy wing ready poised; ah then, whither away, Since for song nor for shelter thou deignest to stay ; Wnence floweth this longing : thy bosom's unrest — Who instilleth a dread in the joy of thy breast ? , For thou fearest the wind wailing over the lea, %^Aifd yet braveth the tempest that sweeps o'er the sea. '. When* the deep solemn midnight encircles the main, * And thy wing may not falter, a footing to gain, Will the king of the storm lower his banner for thee, Or calm, for thy passage, his realm of the sea ; Thou art deeming perchance in thy lofty disdain, That thy pinions have power o'er the waves of the main. In the strength of thy pride, through the tempest to g< i . Unheeding the warfare that rages below : When the ship, like a spirit, flits over the sea, And one swift glance of love flashes upward to thee. Oh surely the land must be fairest and best, Where thou rearest thy brood, and which holdeth thy nesl Oh tarry one moment, since there thou must And a tribute of love thou shait sweetly best There's a tear-hallowed grave, in a far away spi I Oh seek it, sweet bird, it hath ne'er been forgot, 'Tie a willow-crowned sod, bj a rine-coven <\ wall, Wh ire the bright beams of sunset are latest to fall. ead lies pillowed far down in the sod, Awaiting, in silence, the trumpi t of < l-od. Ah I we know that n > music her Blumb ■ can brealc ; But e'en she to the life-giving blast shall awake, In the midnight solemnity awful and grand When in with might, on the sea and the land. 50 POEMR. The Archangel of God, by his trumpet of power, Shall assemble the dead in that agonised hour. I will wait thy return, and will learn from thy lay, Whether beauty still reigns o'er that grave far away : Doth the willow yet bend, and th.9 sunset yet fall On the ivy-crowned church, and that vine-covered wall ? Do the myrtle leaves float zephyr-bome to that sp.-.t, Where cradled in slumber she heedeth them not. Ah me ! how my thoughts have diverged from the tract, Which I marked for them first ; oh haste little one back ; And surely the hand which upholdeth thy flight, Unerring, and onward, by day and by night ; Who guideth thy wing o'er the peril-fraught sea, Hath a blessing for us vho are greater than thee. 'S3 November, 1865. A DREAM. Ah ! I have wept, and yet thou wert not near me, To chide my tears and bid me grieve no more, Have breathed thy name, alas, thou could' st not hear me, The ocean rolls between me and that shore ; But of the sweet dead past, its olden splendour, One living ray within my heart doth dwell, Refined by sorrow holy, pure, and tender, That aids me now to smile and say farewell. Farewell, farewell ; but not in anguish »poken ; Farewell ! but not, oh not for evermore : There lowers no sky so dark, but clouds have broken Its inky gloom, no wave but finds a shore ; Not on thy brow should time leave trace or token, Not on its sunny gleam, not on its calm ; Not thine the heart that love should e'er have broken, Too true its beat, too faithful, fond, and warm. POEMS. 51 The verse that charmed me by its innate sweetn sss, That on its waves bore my rapt soul along, Drew from thy spirit all its rich completeness, And on thy lips, thrilled like a syren's song, No earthly ah- 1 breathed while thou wert singing, Bat subtler essence of another sphere. From thought to thought, with magic flashes bringing. The fateful truth, that thou wert far too dear. " Oh, fairy hour !" spanned o'er with rainbow brightness, Shrouded in rose-hued mist circled with bloom, Its trembling moments, touched with heavenly brightness, Whose waves were bliss, whose breath was sweet perfume ; That hour whose birth was love, whose death was sadness, The white lips moved, but forth no sound must come ; > ♦ Deep down within the heart, a seething madness, ■ -"To keep the calm brow cold, the pale lips dumb. OlL^oilSiet fierce, that sunny gleam succeeding, As pride arose to work its loyal will, Cxiislrdown the h?art, which shuddering, torn, aud bleeding, Smiled to the blow-vanquished, but suffering still. Set, may we gaze on heaven, its beauty beaming, Its spangled stars, its altitude of blue, Skirted with amber, gold, and purple gleaming, Rob not one gem, steal not one glorious hue. There is a dawn in the far orient gleaming, Whose rapture thrilleth while 'tis yet afar, Though still unknown that all pride's coldest seeming, But veiled a love that time can never mar. The flower thou gavest, when so softly blooming, Died all too soon, alas ! it could but die ; For scorching tears its fairy- buds consuming, Those withered leaves in ivory casket He. 1 "ad thy heart, and suffered in thy sorrow, B ad tin fond wish to shield when woes were rii Eold back the clouds that veil'd each gloomy morrow, And It the sun shine in upon my life. The bird thai answered to thy soul's deep sadness, Liveth and all too sweetly j t ; Upon a night of life can dawn no - ladii and bird defy me to forg ■(. - ii. ■ on, oh star, lose nol one ray of pi adour, 52 POEMS. Shine on, my life is stirless "'neath thy beam, Nor shalt thou win one thought a shade too tender, With sight restored, I wake, and 'tis a dream. A HARVEST HYMN. Suggested by hearing a beautiful sermon preached from the text— " The harvest is past, the summer is ended, and we arc not saved." The harvest is ended, the smnmer is past, And autumn must yield to bleak winter at last ; But the grain is all garnered, then why need we fear, Since God's rich provision for winter is here. ********** We have gathered the fruits, we have welcomed the flowers, And sung with the birds, through the summer's bright hours ; Nor winter's dark days, shall our spirits appal, Since his mercy and love shall encirclethem all. God giveth the increase, our toil were in vain, _ Did his mercy not smile on the else barren plain ; On the just and unjust his sunshine doth fall, Sweet type of his love that is free unto all. Is it well with our souls in this hour of content, Can we gratefully muse on a summer well spent, A spring time of promise, a harvest of joy, Do psalms of thanksgiving our moments employ ; Aloof we have stood in our coldness and pride, Forgetful of Him who on Calvary died. Whose blood was our ransom, whose thorn-covered brow, Was pierced for our guilt, yet he pleads for us now ; Dear suffering Saviour, Thy love is divine, All attributes' holy and gentle are thine, Accept our late sorrow, receive us and bless, And crown our dark lives with thy pure righteousness. poems. r>3 We have seen thine arm, Lord, bared before us in might, Thy lightnings appalling have flashed on our sight ; Thy thunders have rolled, yet in mercy we stood, Unscathed by the fire, and unharmed by the flood. Ah ! what can we render for love so complete, Prostrated and humbled we he at Thy feet ; On this day of Thine harvest, oh Lord, may we me be, As sheaves for thy garner accepted by Thee. 1S72. ' MINE. At last ! oh, at last I can claim you, in the fan- open face of the day. At last the probation is ended, the dark clouds have drifted away, And the blue heaven o'er us is beaming, unveiled is the light of the sim, And hope paints a future all golden, as I clasp thee, my lovliest one. They who sundered can part us no longer, I have lived down the slanderous lie, Have seen it recoil on its founders till my eyes scarce for pity were drj ; I I , gave th. 'in for all the dark story, since it showed me how true was thy love. Showed me the heart of my darling as pure as the angels above. Oh ! the dark weary years how they lingered, ah love 'twas so bitter to part; Bui stirred with each throb of my bosom, your pictured face pi ..11 my hear! , And I] aoble achievements, my monitress silent and Thai chei red all the pilgrimage dreary till it ended in bliss at your feet. 54 POEMS. I forget we are youthful no longer, that my lock just ming- ling with grey, For your brow hath a light that is holy, a light that time bears not away, And your eyes in their beauty and softness, a tenderness learnt of the dove, I have travelled earth round, and nought fairer have found, than the face of my love. I spared not my steed on the journey, but bravely its length he withstood, \nd I knew that the path he remembered, for he paused at the edge of the wood, Where the laurel walk opened before me, and fluttering soft on the breeze, 1 caught the white sweep of your garments through the flowering acacia trees. N( »r 'twas strange that you scarcely were startled, though you deemed me away o'er the sea, For distance hath hardly divided and parted, my soul was with thee ; In my heart's irrepressible gladness, I had whispered my joy to the air, Which, stirred with sAveet fancies, was round me, delighted such secret to bear. Lifted high o'er the earth in my dreaming, pondering deeply the mystical tie 1 1 links parted souls to each other, I felt a soft zephyr sweep by ; Which, in passing, of something bereft me, then the ah grow- ing suddenly still, Through all the moved chords of my being crept a strange undefinable thrill. \ ad I knew what words fail in expressing, but all who have loved can devine, That a spark of electrical meaning had flashed from my spirit to thine ; Hence it was that I found you so troubled that you answered my greeting with tears, 1 1 ich have since wept out on my breast love, for the future we gather no fears. POEMS. 55 We will tlnow back the gates of the mansion, and open each pane to the sun, That I shrouded the night when we parted and the years of our mourning begun ; I thought of your beauty afar love, I have brought you bright " jewels to wear. Pearls that are fit for a princess, my Alice shall 'twine in her hair. Bracelets of diamond and ruby, a necklace of torquoise and gold, And wonders in sapphire and jasper, yon casket's bright depths shall uufold ; But your eyes : they are almost reproachful, yoiu- whispered > ♦ assurance so sweet, i -ThaOny love to your heart is more precious than the jewels • ---• JLJay at your feet. !PW these pearls, why your white brow can shame them, your eyes the blue sapphires outshine, And these lips they are redder than rubies, and sweeter, oh sweeter than wine ; Your face was so grave for a moment, but breaks into smiles as I sing, How joyouslj out for our bridal the bells of the minster shall ring. Like night shrouding mists of the mountain that die in the smile of the da}-, So fades, in the light of your presence, from my heart all its sorrow away ; Look up — for the night hath departed, morn breaks o'er the hill tops divine, And our hearts in one glad psalm are blending. Earth is Eden, for now — thou art mine. 56 POEMS. MORNING AND EVENING AT WILMSLOW CHURCH. One of a waiting crowd I stood, Yet — mid tlieni all — alone, Where lie the long-forgotten dead 'Neath many a crumbling stone. When from the grey old tower there swells A sudden peal of wedding bells, Oh merry bells, how sweet your chime, How fan- the scene, how dear the time, Oh youth, oh happy love. The ray of Eden clings to earth, Since to such hours it giveth birth, Hovu - s blest in heaven above. And slowly up the central aisle, How light her step, how sweet her smile, She comes — the lovely bride. '. sparkling glance, and glistening tress, In bright and blushing loveliness, Ad joy her steps betide. lu sweeping robes of palest hue, And seen — the rich veil's Lightness through, Dai-k waves of sinning hah. Care hath not touched the pure young brow, The bridal wreath is binding now, And sweet she looks and fair. Bjfore the altar — streaming fidl, Yet soft, subdued, and beautiful Falls fair the crimson light. I leave them kneeling in its glow, Sure Life were sweet, if never woe Could break a dream so bright. Not all of light had the sky forsook, Invited by the solemn bell, My steps the mourning pathway took, Awed by that slow impressive swell. Again the churchyard path I trod, But what a change was there ; Then brightly o'er it's hallowed sod, POEMS. 41 OAK FARM, NEAR OHEADLE, CHESHIRE. The dear old home, how fair it stands — the same green trees around As when our childish footsteps trod what now seems fairy ground ; Its dewy meadows, stretching far, in emerald light unrolled ; Its cornfields touched by sunset rays to seas of living gold ; Its garden paths, its grassy lawns, where lightly sped the hours, To bid the bending branches yield their wealth of fruits and flowers. The circling seat where rose in pride the pear trees straight and tall, Which when May's fairy fingers wove her beauteous robe for all, ^When ejery spray was rich with bloom as lovely, pure, and fair AS'the robes which for one dreamy horn- a happy bride may wear. rnal Love : Sofl eyes thai o'er my childhood watched with fond untiring care, \,,,| lipg whoe ■ blessing softly said was sweel as uttered prayer. . .-. t, and yet more dear, as Time the avenger swiftly flies, mds that sweep o'er miles of space ere one brief momenl dies, 42 POEMS. Could I arrest ye in your flight a blessing ye should bear, And lay it soft as angels' touch upon that silvering hair. The white walls gleam, the old oaks stand the sweet flowers bloom and die, And shineth still as erst it shone o'er all the same blue sky ; And hope, sweet hope, speaks fondly yet — ah ! who life's ills could bear Did not her angel whispers still the promptings of despair P At night she singeth of the morn, and through the wintry hours Of joys that shall spring forth to greet the birthdays of the flowers. REMOVING. Far in the past the old homestead stands, Furnished and altered by stranger hands ; They have cut the vine to the porch that clung, And the parlour window so sweetly hung With clematis and passion flower. Naked and bare they have laid to view, And rubbed the walls to a rosier hue ; And the old life now is lost in the new— For change is our earthly dower. The new life friends have smilingly met, And its sun in a bluer sky seems set ; Adown its vista's shine fairer flowers. And lovelier scenes and happier hours. And yet Sad are the thoughts which silently creep Inlo the heart where old memories sleep, A-nd surges of sorrow within me sweep Of passionate, wild regret. I will grieve no more has oft been said ; I will let the dead past bury its dead ; The skies of the future all cloirdless lean ; The past shall be as it never had been — Buried and out of sight. When the tone of a voice, or the scent of a flower >r the glow of the sky in its loveliest hour, ' >r a bird in the gloaming whose song hath power Can raise it into the light, POEMS. 43 '- Deeply within us a chord lies still Which the winds of memory touch at will : And the answer comes in a ring of pain _ More keen than we thought to know again : Each fibre in agony thrills. By a strain of music faintly heard Can the soul to its innermost depths be stirred; The dead years live at a voice or a word With spectre-crowded hills. But the carpets are down and the curtains hung , Ami the restless baby to sleep is sung ; Pausing to wipe his heated brow, Father smilingly says it looks home-like now : What a bustling weary day. But the glance to the grandsire's chair that he steals, A tear on the furrowed cheek reveals, That old ties are strong in that heart he feels, And in silence he turns away. " What is home ?" should you ask the old man now. From his trembling hands he will raise his brow. And falteringly say, that was home to him, Where he lived from youth till his sight was dim. Till the trees in the grounds «reiv dear. The sweep of river, the reach of sky, The mossy bank wh^re the sunbeams lie, And the spire through the green woods white and high, He has loved them many a yea'-. "Ask the happy wife," by her husband's side. Ber soft eyes lift in a glance of pride, While in earnest tones will her lips aver — That all places on earth are as one to her, So he she loves be there. I ':..'! jrrant her this, sho can brave the rest ; Mountain or valley, each were 1> Though oceans round her flin!' life and death. Who shall your secret learn? Who shall unlock the icy door. To ask of those who went before, 58 POEMS. " Something " — to still the yearning pain, Which fills our longing hearts in vain For those, earth gives not back again, Or whom your depths discern. We only know they come no more, Who seek the dreaded voiceless shore, And life and love resign. The mind shrinks baffled from the thought, By death alone is knowledge bought, Eternal and divine. To chide our tears, no sound is heard, Nor wildest prayer brings whispered word, Death keeps its secret well. Yet hath the grave its victory lost P A Saviour's blood the fearful cost ; He its dread power could quell. Grief to my heart struck cold and chill ; Sure life is framed of good and ill, Of sweet and solemn hours. Though all around is wintry gloom, To the longing earth sweet spring shall aome, With buds that promise flowers ; And hope usurping sorrow's reign Shall spread its genial ray ; Oh, may they meet in heaven again, Beyond all sorrow, tears, and pain ; Who part on earth to-day : Slowly and sad I left the spot. Ah, when shall grief be all forgot ? No moon yet lights yon ebon sky, And the river floweth silently. Descend, oh night, and like a pall, In shrouding darkness cover all ; Yet do we know thou hidest not From God's all-seeing eye. The marriage alluded to was that of Misa Jennison, of ffulihaw. Tk» fw»r»l of a mother who was followed to the grave by nine of har •hildren. FOR EVER. Oh, hast thou forgotten the days that are fled, Whose roses are withered, whose beauty is dead P POEMS. 59 Once I would see thee, ere life shall depart ; Hear one kind word arise to thy lip from thy heart. Softly there comes through the echoing ah, Sweeter than love and less sad than despair, A voice, and it whispers life brighter would be For one clasp of the hand and one kind word from thee. Ah ! in that far land where thou sojournest yet, Can the birds and the blossoms not teach to forget ? Should the moon's silver gleam on the lakelet's calm breast Whisper but of an eve whose wild waters unrest Were flashed with the crimson and gold of the west. , HathTife no high aim which might brighten each hour, . „-For -food or for evil, how great is thy power : Oh wa,ste not thy manhood's best yeais in regret; ,_ Believe me, 'tis kindest and best to forget. LOST. Back to the river's verge Through intervening hours, When life was like a fabled land Whose paths were bright with flowerr Back to the sunny spot Where happy childhood played ; Through all life's tears it faded not, The light those hours had made. For sealed with a secret seal Doth the untried future lie ; But thought can roam o'er the traversed path 'Neath youth's unclouded sky. And hopes in their Pawning sweet Are lost in the mist of years ; And a tangled path hath my wearied feat, My heart its anguished tears. Oh youth, oh fleeting youth, Wh I LOUghts soar so high, While the heart hath faith and the lip hath truth Green earth and sunny sky . tJD POEMS. As an array arrayed for fight The young heart's forces stand ; of light The paths of the unknown land. How high the proud hearts beat ; How strong the pulses flow ; While merry voice and impatient feet Call the winged hours too slow. And what beauty its strength can win, Erect in bannered pride, Ere the trumpet sound that the strife begin. Or the red blood floweth wide. Spell-bound in the rose-hued air, Which breathes o'er chat battle plain, Is a wreath that the victor brow may wear, And a love which shall ease all pain. And far as his thought can grasp, A sunset eve lies bright, Where his hand which his own doth so fondly enclasp Loveth and leadeth aright. Or a ship that so proudly sailed By a seaward breeze impelled, O'er struggles the bravest, the storm prevailed, And her lofty pride was quelled. Her snowy decks were soiled, And her mast no banner boi'e ; Noble the efforts stern fate hath foiled, And that flag shall be proud no more. And some who in life's bright morn Went forth when the sun was high, How wearily after the day was worn Came home at eve to die. Youth's bright star sat in night, Its sweet hopes quenched in tears, And naught but memory's living light To brighten the unborn years; And falling are the shades of night, While my thoughts such wanderers are, They are bearing me now in a mystic flight To a chapel yard af.ir. POEMS. 61 Tis a loved and lovely spot, — Serenely, sweetly fair j And though storied marble that grave hath not, Yet the rose blooms brightly there. •Oh biesb in thy lowly bad, Beyond the seething strife, Beyond the reach of tiie tempest's tread, Beyond the shores of life. To us who are left behind To weep such bitter tears ; To us the aching of hearts bereaved, To us the joyless years. Pjliowed on loving hearts, Thy mc-moiy liveth yet; ■ Aard shall ever live until life departs ; For the faithful ne'er forget. One star in the western heaven Hath a glance so wildly free : Is it a gleam from thy brightness riven, That it speaks to my soul of thee ? Then let death come sudden and soon, Or lingering long or late, Sorrow hath swept like a wild simoom, Till no darker leaf hath fate. Still following the day comes night, And after labour rest, And a thorny way may have ending bright, But God ! he knoweth best. GOD C.1YETH HIS BELOVED SLEEP. V , we have lost her, our comforter, never too sad to smile : If from a in sorrow her sympathy woe coull beguile, Lost her for earth's for ever, until time for us is no more ; Though we mourn her with grief unceasing, nor grief nor tears can Sadly, oh 6adly,we miss her, and the love which uiound her grew; For what breast so fend as a rno'herV— what heaH mder and true : 62 POEM8. Though the world may scorn and forsake us, one voice will whisper and save ; The light of one clear eye shineth from the cradle to the grave. We lay her in silence and sorrow, where the old church casteth a shade ; Fit emblems of life are the blossoms which now on her coffin are laid, Gathered in freshness and beauty to die on her faithful breast ; Her 3 where her infancy wandered, weary she cometh to rest. Gray walls that o'ershadow her slumbers, how silent and stern ye stand, While we pass each soul to its summons, to the rest of the sileut la id ; Mocking life's brief endeavour, the dumb and the senseless stone Outlasting its fitful fever, which is but as a breath that is blown, Or a mist of the darkness engendered, which the sun's first glance caa dispel j Or a blossom whose wondrous sweetness by our loss we can msasure well : Ours is the presant only — th3 day ere its shadows are flown — What the dawning shall bring us we know not, to-morrow is God's alone. Lova is strong, and parting is bitter, let us closer and fondly cling, Until time — sweet soother of sorrow— brings calm on its healing wing ; Keeping the truths she taught us, not unconsoled shall we weep, For we know, and the thought gives comfort, Gcd giveth his loved ones sleep, THE LOVED ONES GONE BEFORE. (1856.) I watched them still through life's declining years, As time — remorseless tim 3 — sped ^swiftly on, Leaving deep impress on each furrowed brow, And silvering locks that once full brightly shone; An aged couple, bent with toil and years, Treading witii faltering steps life's downward way, Calming with patient love each other's feari, Longing yet fearing to be called away. POEMS. 63 I sought them in the valley where their home was mantled o'er With bright leaved ivy green and lair arching o'er pane and door; And sweetly o'er the old grey porch the graceful woodbine twined In many a fair and clustering wreath, to charm the poet mind ; A scene to touch a loving heart that low-roofed shaded home, More 'fair to me than stately hall or proud palatial dome. Beloved each noble arching tree, each sweet and simple flower, To me its hidden tale revealed at eve's soul-soothing hour ; Yet now I passed regardless on, for grief my soul beguiled, Ami yielding to prophetic fears my heart grew sick and wild ; An 1 gainin s, now the open door, I paused with bated breath, For a nameless voice within me whispering told of pain and [death. How painful the sequel, with bitterness filled ^^Was-4he cup which the lone-stricken weeper must drain, For the voice that had soothed her in sorrow was stilled, * 'ATI fettered and frozen by death's icy chain. *Oh," seems it not sad while thus severed are ties, And hearts which together so closely entwined, That each flower blooms as fair, and as bright are the skies, As though hope had not fled the lone weepers behind. Her tottering step and stooping frame, and pale and wrinkled [brow, Are ill prepared to mee+ the storm that shocks her spirit now : The setting sun streams richly down on hill and flowery lea, The last upon this changing earth I her aged eyes may see. Long ere the rosy morning broke upon the waking world, Death's sha-'lowy veil was round her thrown, his banner wide [unfurled, A sweet smile round her cold lips played, as if some vision fair Had flashed upon her dying sight, and left its beauty there. Disconsolate mourner, full deep is thy rest, Thy flutterin g heart is now stilled in thy breast, Thy sorr< >ws are ended, thy pilgrimage o'er ; Thou art clasped in reunion on Canaan's bright shore. No more for thee shall spring's sweet flowers arise, Nor summer's verdure to thy sight bo given, Nor autumn's golden footsteps bid thee rise, Nor winter's social joys may win thy soul from heaven. Nor round thy grave hath wealth its lustre shed; No costly marble decks thy narrow bed ; C4 POEMS. A simple headstone marks thy place of rest, And planted there the flowers thou lovedst best. We ne'er shall forget thee, sweet mother and friend, With affection's sweet reverence thy couch we will tend, But no longer we'll mourn thee, though lonely we roam, 'Twere sin to deplore thee, for heaven's thy home. Thou, too, gentle father, to memory dear, Are thy words of sweet counsel, thy deeds full of love : Sweet solace it shall be to think of thee here ; And to meet thee at last in the mansions above. Thy dearest theme the praise and love of God's incarnate son ; A follower thou in faith and truth of the meek and lowly one ; And oh, though oft reviled of men, how rich thy sweet reward : A crown of gold, a life of bliss in Christ thy living Lord. And many a sunny eve we spend by that secluded grave, While o'er us as in sympathy the branches gently wave : There wounded memory oft recals what time hath softened o'er ; The scathing wound our hearts that mourned for the loved ones [gone before. WON. I have called thee to-night from the dance, love, While the music yet floateth afar ; I would shew thee my heart in the silence Of night and her sentinel star. There's a home that lies fair in the valley, From storms of the mountain all free ; Of its meadows and dark-waving woodlands The beautiful queen thou shait be. And I, though the winter be dreary, Or summer fall fair from above, Will but ask as my precious rewarding Thy smiles for a lifetime of love. Thy hand, how it trembles in mine, love ; O'er the world is a joy mantle thrown, And darling, my life shall repay thee, That promise hath made thee my own. POEMS. 05 ON VISITING MIDDLETOX CHUHCH, MAY 19th, 1872. Late wandering on thy green hill side, and through thine hallowed fane, Sweet thoughts of thee o'ermastering rise again and oft again. Ah, well and bravely hast thou borne thy weight of hoary years : To look on thee will move the heart and fill the eye with tears. I marked the organ's swelling tone, the sweet-voiced choral train, The arching roof, the feet-worn floor, the richly -tinted pane, — Where are the hands which reared thy walls, the feet that pressed thy sod ; ^The hearts that worshipped at thy shrine, thou holy house -.-- of them all : We know not of the things they loved, the names in life they bore; But we know the homes that knew them once may know them now no more. Tread gently through the place of graves, a whisper from the sod Answers unto the questioning soul, mortal — there is a God. "Ye read it in che changing skies and in the summer flowers, The rosy morn, the noon-tide calm, and dewy evening hours, The thunder's roll, the lightning's flash, the ocean's might] wave ;" Ye feel it best and know it most beside the moulderim;; grave. A name arrests my lingering step, new on the storied stone. The name of one whose kindly deeds are well and widely known : ■.]. d no t the record here, the land has felt his power, And named him as a man of men, and born for peril's hour. Ah, worthier he than they who wield the — wear the crown ; Slander's envenomed shafts assailed, nobly ho lived i wn. His country's wea befor him lay — far flashing lil bar, II, ,. firm he sto '1 in Freedom's fight, while dungeon gatesunl warm heart beats no more, and cold in death - brow, Th- pi 'ad for his wisdom now. Ah, ;. nto thine honoured du ie the well-loved shrine, The name with risini I [ trace is noble Bamf dthine. 66 POEMS. Sweet silence fills the holy place, a hush is on the air, As meek-eyed peace, on brooding wing, divinely rested there. One grave I saw, where some fond hand a flowering wreath had placed ; How like a gleam of light and love upon some treeless waste. I noted not who slept beneath the dreamless sleep of death, But felt in every thrilling sense, love, love outlasteth breath. It bends above the silent dust with blessing in its prayer ; All faults are hid, and acts of love alone are remembered there. Wood, vale, and stream are glowing in the sunset's golden beam, The blue hills in the distance lie all lovely as a dream : I leave thee with reluctant feet, a charm is round thee spread ; A glory from the vanished years, lone dwelling of the dead. THE LOST AT SEA. Washed by the waves on the shore he came, Helplessly drifting, oh ! say from where ; Deep in the ocean lies buried his name ; Vainly, too vainly, we seek for it there. Thickly threaded with silver his once bright hair, In clustering beauty that shaded his brow ; Where are the fingers, so fond and so fair, That smoothed it so gently ? oh, where are they now ? Closed are the dark eyes that once beamed so kindly ; Silent the lips whose sweet music was love ; Truly we pray that, not rashly or blindly, Sought he a fate, sad all others above. Sadly we think of the friends that are weeping, And chiding his absence all gently the while ; Far, far from their love he so calmly lies sleeping, No more shall he gladden fond hearts with his smile. And oh, the dark traces of grief's cruel fingers, Deep on his marble brow dented are seen, Yet a halo of brightness around him still lingers, Reluctant to leave where such beauty hath been. Hallowed the sod where we laid him in sorrow ; God, give them comfort, poor mourners that be ; For him no rising, no dawning, no morrow; Gather the stricken ones, Father, to Thee. POEMS. 67 Sleep thou in peace, and the spring's early roses, By fair children gathered, shall bloom on thy grave, To scatter their sweets where the stranger reposes, And gracefully o'er thee the willow shall wave. LONG AGO. Only a line of an old, old song, yet such power had its sweet refrain, That it charmed from the years their shadows back, and I trod youth's earth again, Where height, unshadowed by a cloud, lay life's young spring ' ' tide»glow — When eyes were bright, and hearts were light, in the happy long , ygrf Ah, -life, seen by youth's hopeful sight, how fair thy valleys gleam, What promise crowns thy flowery hills, bright sun and glancing stream ; What silver moons light up thy nights, what stars above them shine — Rosy and beautiful and bright, what fairy worlds are thine. Oh ! but to breathe the spring's sweet breath beside the meadow stream, Where many a sweet hope had its birth, and many a fond day dream ; While yet the skies were blue and bright, while yet the flowers were fair, The sweet birds sang, the greenwoods rang, and fragrance filled the air; And scenes that long oblivious lay, flash o'er their hidden track. O'er the dead leaves that shroud the past, treads memory softly back ; We feel the clasp of heart-warm hands, we hear the tuneful flow Of lips that made, through shine and shade, sweet music "long ago." Where feathery chesnuts fringed the lane, and strawberry blooms were spread. Was a garden seat, on a velvet lawn, with a pear tree overhead ; On two that lingered beneath its shade the summer sunlight fell, For June had robed the glowing earth in hues too bright to tell. 6H- POEMS. Only a rosebud, wild and sweet, that June's bright sun had kissed, In thoughtless mood from the hedgerow plucked, where its sweetness ne'er was missed ; He little deemed his careless gift — a frail and fading flower — ■ Would cast a gleam, like sunset's beam, o'er many a sorrowing hour. And they who parted in youth's bright hours, beneath the pear tree shade, Are treading widely -severed paths a-down life's chequered glade ; Oh ! long lost years, the tide rolls on, mid all its ebb and flow, Undreamed of now, a broken vow, in " The old sweet long ago." And some depart who come not back through all the weary year, We speak in whispers, faint and low, the names we hold so dear ; Nor may we seek our loved and lost where living roses bloom, Dead lilies rest on the pulseless breast in the cold and silent tomb. Ah, Dsata, th3 fell bereaver, steals upon the love-watched fold, And marks the fairest first to lie beneath the churchyard mould ; He sets the smile upon the lip, leaves stillness in the hair, But he quails before the brow's deep calm, the seal of Heaven is there. Our kisses fall on lip and brow, and tears like summer rain, But death's sweet sleep is all too deep, and wrecks not of our pain ; Yet faith hath nobler, keener sight, and sees beyond the veil A land of light, a land so bright, the glittering stars seem pale, Where angels take with tenderness our lost unto their care, And we hear their anthem welcome through the stilly midnight air ; Yes, graveyard shadows cloud the light, and life has lost its glow, The charm of youth, the love and truth, that blessed it long ago. O'er early hopes, o'er tear-bathed graves, the wintry snow wreathes fall, But spring's sweet blooms above them rise, bursting from earth's dark thrall, And bads almg the dear old paths for stranger hands- will blow Wh 3re erst had bloomed, in years entombed, the flowers of long a> call a i hankful won ■{ 'I'., the lip that no gra jould in nature own, For naught bul soothing sounds were heard lonely chirp of some wakeful bird, Or the in cf drov j I me. POE3IS. In the deep'ning shade stood a maiden fail', As a dream of the spirit whenlife is don ■ ; And the light wind toyed with her ebon hah, Now raising it gently, now placing it there, With a sigh from her beauty won. Her cheek was pale — too pale, it seemed, When the drooping lashes o'er it swept ; But when those starry eyes upbeained, Such a 'wildering light from their dark depths gleamed, That a spell o'er the gazer crept. The beautiful brow you might then forget, In its royal breadth from the temples fair ; The classic head, with its wealth of jet, That sparkled and flashed from the pearls that were set Like a crown on her falling hair. On silent lovers the twilight shone ; He noble, proud, she sweet and fair ; So stood till the light from the west was gone ; Gray now where the gold and the crimson shone, While summer scents the ah. T 41 m^j then, Maud, is the sky less blue, Does the sun, with a duller glory, shine On those who their humble lot pursue ? From duty unswerving the pure and true, Than on those with rich gifts like thine ? Say, are not the beautiful flowers as fair, And does not their fragrance all lavish fall, For a crown and a blessing everywhere ? Brightening with beauty the perfumed air, ;et children of Eden all. * # # * # * To her low breathed words, the youth's pale brow Grew flushed with thought as he low replied, The b 1 1 that bloometh so weakly now, Thy love would with brighter grace endow, It would blow with a richer pride. For poverty stifles the thoughts that burn In the ashing breast, ere to song they fl iw, And these would to breathings of rapture turn, Could the saddened heart a sweet lesson learn, Bereft of its care and woe. POEMS. 77 *" _ The soul inspired that fain would soar On fancy's wing so far and high, Must give with a sigh its visions o'er, Like the crippled bird that will sing no more, But chafes that it cannot fly. Where the glorious sunlight seldom falls, What pa n to sing of its beauty free In the space confined of the narrow walls, Which the fettered spirit so darkly thralls, When 'tis panting afar to be. On a life that was cold, and void, and dark, - Pell a sunny gleam that had thrilled it through ; £tf it shoreless ocean, the one bright ark, And freighted with gems was that gallant barque, "***The wealth of a spirit true. "With a gale that favoured it onward sped, Cleaving its pathway with grace and power ; O'er the parted wavelets the light foam spread, And the star of hope a sweet lustre shed O'er the calm of that holy hour. But the syren that called that barque along From its haven safe o'er the treacherous tide, Ceased in mid ocean her guileful song, And the proud waves rose, nor deemed it wrong To swell o'er her fated side. Heavily plunging, of hope bereft, i iiit with despair, to the waves a toy ; Not one sweet hope in love's mercy left, All darkness now where before was joy, And the storm swept wild and wide. O'er the world of waters a murmur came, A waving <»f spirit wings were seen ; Ri»e from thy lethargy, carve thee a name, Stamped for the future In letters of flame — A light where the cloud hath been. A name which the lady who scorned thy love Mig] t l< ir', with a breaking heart, to w.-ar ; , thou shall soar above \V th the glorious host, whose thoughts can move To tears for the Love h e bear. 78 POEMS. With thy heart all steeled for a labour strong, Eise from the waves, make thine armour bright ; And, lo, at thy feet, for thy wondrous song, Shall be wealth and love from the world's proud throng, Who shall own thy gifted might. And she who is fairest where all are fair, Whose glorious eyes make the bright stars pale ; Matched by the pearls in her raven hair, Shall her white cheek be when thou art there, Her life for thy love will fail. Mine was the life that was drear and cold, Till a smile of thine fell athwart its gloom ; When the cloud so dun took the hue of gold, And swathed my soul in its glittering fold, Till I read in thy pride my doom. You have owned that you loved me, Maud, proud Maud ; Spurn not the faith of an earnest soul ; Though the haughty few might such act applaud, Since^the poor they would e'en of their lives defraud, In a path for their pride to roll. I will plead no more, and I warn thee now, Oh, fair without and cold within, Of the marble heart and the smiling brow, Whose proud foot trampled love's holiest vow, A coronet to win. Nor all my passion nor pain could bring, A restless heave o'er thy bosom's swell ; I tear thee now from my heart and fling, Thine image far as a faithless thing, Thou fair and false, farewell. #*# * • *#* They met, who once had fondly loved, Whom pride and wealth had sternly part 3d ; He, nobler than youth's promise, proved, And she a bride, and broken hearted. The gems which on her fa ; r white brow So well became its snowy gleaming ; Pressed like hot bands of iron now, And her heart belied that brow's calm seeming. J % POEMS. 79 She saw not the crowd, nor tli-" lighted room, Bat a summer eve and a river flowing ; A bird's sweet voice in the gathering gloom, And one from her side in anger going. She strove t > be cold 'neath his searching glance, Till her soul grew sick with the vain endeavour ; Their hands had clasped in the mazy dance, And she knew her heart was his for ever. She saw him proud with the pride of one Who has won the crown his brow is wearing ; She saw his life's success begun, Aad turned away, white and despairing. , ■». Oh, winter of the bleeding heart, • -Whose blast through the pine trees moaneth ever ; Oh, desert land, where no fountains start ; Oh, barren life, where love is never. OH, HAD I WEALTH. Oh, had I wealth, I'd crown thy brow "With gems a royal bride might wear ; The ruby's rich and radiant glow Should meet the diamond gleaming there. Or pearls should loop each raven tress Of priceless value, rich and we ; Though peerless in their loveliness, As thy sweet brow not half so fair. Thy home, ah love, thy home should be "What boundless wealth and taste could frame I'd search the land, T'd rob the s 'a, To gem thy homo, and gi -ace thy name. Oh, had I wealth, I'd crown thy brow With gems a royal bride might wear ; Though faultless in their radiant glow . As thy Bwct brow not half bo fair. 8U POEMS. TO AN ATHEiSi'. 1857. Hash, vain presumptuous one, nor dare Deny the God who gave thee birth ; Dost thou not breathe his own pure free air, And tread, though with scornful step, his earth ? No God ! go view the wondrous earth, From the mountain's craigy height that lowers, From the ocean wave to the smiling birth, O'er hill and dale of the woodland flowers. No God ! Niagara's hissing flood, As it foams and dashes the rocks among, Hurls back thy lore with a giant force, And proclaims it a he in language strong. The mountain's grandeur sterner grows, And prouder yet his snow-wreat led crest, At thy vain words, and the ocean throws Them in scornful spray from his heaving breast. Turn, child of earth, er 3 thy life be done, And bow in faith unto Israd's God ; Spurn not the chance he gives, but come And kneel with praise to the chastening rod. For his mercy and love will not always last, If thou still refusest his name to own, When thy time for repentance for ever past, And only his furious anger shewn. Ere unavailing tears be thine, Turn, wanderer, turn to the narrow way ; Though thorny it be, yet the end will shine, And the gloomy night shall be perfect day. FALSE. Whither are thy footsteps speeding', Bright eyed Lena, Qeen of Mav r Song of birds nor sunset heeding, Nor hours of closing day. Dark the wood that looms before thee. Fan the plain behind that lies ; Does no fear of night come o'er thee, Glancing at the darkening skies r There where bends yon aged willow . ja, O'er the clear swift gliding stream. Stands a youth, so slight and graceful, Idol bright of maiden dream. Costly gems enclasp his fingers, Sunny locks his temples crown , On his brow fair youth still lingers. Youth undimned by care or frown. Lip and brow with smiles are beaming. Eyes then- radient glances throw •. Can it be all false and seeming, Lena, does he love thee so ? List ! he pleads, 'mid scenes of splendour Shall thy life's sweet current glide . will e'er be fond and tender, Thou alone my joy and pride. Bright her cheek with crimson blushes. As he stoops her hand to kiss, How her brow with fond pride flushes, Homage sweet through life like this. Oh, what bliss her heart is framing, Far from scenes of care and woe ; Studied words her pride inflaming, Thine till death, she whispers low. Veiled her eyes by drooping lashes, Stilled her very heart for joy ; From his glance proud triumph flashes, \\ on, alas, but to destroy. Nor word of priest, nor holy altar, Sacred ritual, Heaven ordained, Caused his lips in love to falter, Base avowal, passion stained. Think, will he whose coffers laden, Might a duke's fair daughter claim. Make his bride of cottage maiden, Link with thine his haughty name ? Will no hand stretch forth and save thee From the deep and dread abyss ? Place the love thy parents gave thee 'Gainst a passion base as this ? No. alas, thy pride estranged them, Who for thee would life have given ; Haughty looks and words have changed them, Thine own hand each bond hath riven. Will he dare his father's anger ? Can he brave his mother's scorn ? Lena dread for thee the danger, Will no friendly voice forewarn ? Pride of birth, Lord Eonald's failing, Will he smile his weakness o'er ? All thy charms were unavailing, He would spurn thee from Ids door. Costly robes wait to enfold thee, Gems shall on thy white brow shine, Envious eyes will then behold thee, Who art mine, for ever mine. Sped one bright year, brief and glorious, Summer ne'er so blest before ; Joy through all its hours victorious, With love's glamour goldened o'er. Now the autumn gusts are wailing Tlirough wet woodlands, wild and drear ; Doubt is growing, faith is failing, Gone all beauty from the year. POEMS. 83 Saw tlie willow bending lowly, One whose faint steps left no trace, One who through the darkness slowly Sought the dear old trysting place. Sought a lover, in whose clasping She might life's wild dream forget Now her cold hand he is grasping, Neath the billows chill and wet. In the cold gray dawn they found her, On lier pallid lip no breath, Smiled the water lilies round her, Life is swallowed up of death. -• . « •^ Pale and cold and still she lieth : * ---*' ■**»' Chant the wares a wild death hymn ; * '_ -_ And her last prayer was for pardon, And her last thought was of Him. STANZA. Oh lay me by my brothers side Low in the quiet grave, Where dreaming not of pomp or pride, The graceful flowerets wave. To some the world is fair and bright, With all its glittering show ; To me revealed but sorrows night, My Father, let me go. My soul in anguish prays for death, And life, it has naughl to give ; Call forth upon the ah my breath, L't me no longer live. Oh hi\ id where my brothers sleep, Is undisturbed alone; I : e you may sometime come and weep, Wln-ii !'m for ever gone. g4 ■."•••KM*. ONCE AND FOR EVER. Light on the hilly such as lingering stays When slowly f adeth the sunset rays ; But the western heaven, so softly bright, Cannot sooth the pain in my heart to-nignt ; The passionate longing, the wild regret, For I loved thee once„ and I love thee yet. I made thee mine idol, ir • ; yight, Thy form was clothed in unearthly light ; Nor a thing of beauty mine eyes could see, But it thrilled my soul with a thoueht of thee, And my heart is weary., mine eyelids wet. For I loved thee once, and I love thee yet. I came to-night where the graves are spread, And I asked of peace from the quiet dead ; But, rapt from life's sorrow, they answered not, And my wandering feet sought the fountains grot, Where the waters sparkle, and foam, and fret; But I oved thee once, and I love thee yet. In silent thought on the bridge I lean, And tbe swans are floating the banks between, A bird in the boughs, hath a voice too sweet, And spring sheds blossoms around my feet, But another hath won thee, hope's star is set, For I loved thee once, and I love thee yet. The skies ab^ve me unpitying beam, And life is a sorrow, love a dream ; The cruel fate that between us stood Hath wrenched from my spirit its all of good, And duty's path is with thorns beset, For I loved thee once, and I love thee yet. POEMS. 85 EVENING. A day of storm, but the eve descends In holiest calni on stream and bow er ; ''Tis sweet to whisper of absent friends, To swaying tree and closing flower. 'Tis sweet alone, but sweeter far, When loving hands in ours are pressed ; When hearts commune, nor troubles mar The summer calm of each fond breast. To silent gaze, while yet the beam Of lingering sunset brightly throws '-A tinge of gold on rippling stream, - - ■*- Through flowery banks that niurniuring flows. . .^r ^*»Oh, earth to me is fairest then, .'. i _ My wandering footsteps gladly stray * *J * Far from the busy haunts of men, To watch the gleam of the dying day. THOUGHTS ON CHRISTMAS. 1857. Thou art coming, merry Christmas, for the cold and biting blast Proclaims to all that the good old year, ere long, must breathe its ]ast, And sink, as its sister years have done in ages gone before, Where oblivious mighty waters roll on the dark and stormy shore ; It must go, yet with merry voice and heart, we cheerfully say adieu, As oft for friendships newly formed we leave the tried and true. Since the last Christinas revelries we have felt the chastening rod ; One of the dear home circling ones is cal' is God ; One loved one less * lcome thi ith ours In the alten ■ dom show i avy upon his brow ; II' ow, !b from thi- ions of the 86 POEMS. ' ' Come unto me, ye weary ones, and I will give you rest." 'Tjs a weary task, which bereavement owns, to gaze on the snowy bed, Where the dear remains of those we love are in death's cold slumber laid ; 'Tis hard to kneel in the morning hour, and again at the set of sun, To clasp the trembling hands and say, " Father, Thy will be done." But the glorious hope of bliss above nerves us with strength to bear The trials, bitter though they be, which all on earth mast share ; Oh, may our lives be such that, when the Saviour's call is given, Our spirits may in hopeful flight wing their bright way to heaven. THE FAIRY AND THE FLOWERS. I watched, amid the blossoms, My baby girl at play ; And I thought she, in her guileless grace, Was pure and sweet as they. There was beauty all around her — On the earth and in the air — For here sweet flowers were blooming, And the birds sang sweetly there. Till my heart was stirred within me, By the peace upon her brow, I said how sweet to keep her, Just a child as she is now. A winsome, white-robed fairy, Mid the birds, and bees, and flowers, Her merry footsteps dancing, Through her childhood's happy hours. Now a swallow crossed the sunshine, And her eye pursued his track, Till her eager face grew wistful, As she saw he came not back. — • *** POEMS. Then all the ardour left her, As ere while she sought her play, Looking upward, longing ever, For the brightness fled away. O swallow, swiftly flying, Thou bearest on thy track A young heart's joy and gladness ; Oh, bird of love, come back. There were lovely buds half open. On the rose trees standing near ; But she could not see their beauty, No longer were they dear. Her little bosom heaving, To my outstretched arms she came, Sobbing with a child's quick sorrow, Full of grief without a name. Then I whispered fairy wonders As she lay upon my breast, Till her sorrows were forgotten, Kissed her softly into rest. There are older hearts than thine, love, For distant glories pine ; The mist that lies between us and our prayer Can make divine. Not the sun. in all his splendour, Hath such glory in our eyes, As the stars more distant shining, We so faintly realise. On some morn in the far future, Where sorrow haply Lowers, She may read her mother's idyl Of the fairy and the flowers. 87 88 POEMS. PRAISE YE THE LORD. Praise ye the Lord, all ye his sons, On earth the throned, or lowly ones ; Your mingling tones will strike some chord, Which inly rings, praise ye the Lord. Praise ye the Lord, the God of truth, While yet your brows are bright with youth ; In feeble age is life abhorred, In youth's fresh morn, praise ye the Lord. When in the east the morn is bright, Ye trace his name in glowing light j Or night throws shadows o'er the sward, Your tribute bring, praise ye the Lord. Praise ye the Lord, though ye may stand By new-made graves — a weeping band ; He lived to bless, He died to save, And heaven's dark portal is the grave. Praise ye the Lord, the just, the true, Whose searching sight sees all you do ; Your meed of love with joy record, With holy lip, praise ye the Lord. Praise ye the Lord, His children all, Whate'er betide, whate'er befall, Lest of the rocks and stones He raise A tuneful host to sing His praise. 1867. ANSWERED. I had crept from the still death chamber, Where my broken lily lay ; To see if the eve's soft spirit, Could charm grief's power away. But vainly I watched and vainly For the stars that would not shine, And the fountain of tears seemed withered, For a grief -torn heart was mine. POEMS. 89 I had prayed in a passion of sorrow One glimpse of her bliss to win, And hope in my heart lay dying, For I knew that the prayer was sin. When suddenly eastward shining A star from a dark cloud came, And the glory around it widened, Till the heavens seemed all aflame. And fair, where its centre brightened, White on the crimson glow, ^^1 saw a vision that thrilled me, ._ A form that I could but know ; -An angel, all crowned and smiling, With a babe on her bosom fair, And a strange wild thrill shot through me, My loved and lost was there. Her little arms oiit-stretching, I saw her brown eyes shine, And her soft dark tresses waving, And I knew that babe was mine. Mine, though I might not clasp her ; Mine ! like the stars as fair ; Mine with a lambent glory, Playing around her hair. In wild ^unreasoning anguish, I laid my bosom bare ; Praying, alas how vainly, As of old she would nestle there. So sweet were the sounds that floated On the still air to my feet, That I held my breath to listen, [For Heavenly harp strings meet]. 1 looked, but the vision had faded, And only the clear Heaven shone, Where beamed one star in a glory I never bad looked upon. 90 POEMS. Call it a sojourn in dreamland, A vision, or what you will, The pulsing beneath life's surface Of a grief that will not be still. But the memory of a moment Can a soothing comfort give, Whose holy influence cheers me, And strengthens me to live. A TRADITION OF KOTHERITHE. Fair and golden streamed the sunset from the burning, glowing west, Bright showers of radiance throwing on the river's sparkling breast, Lighting up with wreaths of splendour many a ship in beauty's pride That, with white wings closely folded, heaved upon the rocking tide. With white wings closely folded, and bustling life all o'er, For the merry sailors revel'd on the dear, long looked for shore ', 'Twas one which from some far port hailed, dropped anchor in the stream, As the crimson bars were melting into twilight's purple beam. On her deck, and landward gazing, her dark -eyed captain stood, A half smile on his bearded lip, of dreamy, thoughtful mood; From an open letter in his hand he reads one tender line, " Her hair is dark as yours, dear Hugh, but her eyes are blue as mine'' As hers, my love, my darling, precious though the babe to me, Ever first and foremost in my heart, my Edith, thou shalt be ; And fair the picture that he fiames, and fond the love it stirs, A baby girl, with bright dark hair, and eyes as blue as hers. And tenderly he eyed the land — the lovely land — that lay Bathed in the softened light of eve, not many roods away ; The land of promise, light, and joy, where all his sweet hopes rest, And she he loves impatient waits to be folded to his breast. POEMS. 91 And time, that toucheth all things, will have touched my dearest too, But it cannot take her heart-warm smile, nor her eye's deep lustrous blue ; To guard her, oh, so tenderly, my wild life I resign, Her saintly patience to reward, the happy task be mine. At her feetmy jewelled wealth I lay, sweet will her welcome be, And dear the thought of home and wife to the wanderer of the sea; The beach woods rich in autumn tints, the meadow's dewy gleams, Will they in life such colours wear as they wore amid his - • dreams ? 'Then, lightly to the boat he steps, where the silent rowers wait, ' A'riiFstfong and rapid are the strokes which bear him to his fate ; ' 5leard-he no voice prophetic in the wild wave's sullen roar ? Saw he no phantom, gaunt and grim, to warn him from the shore ? Where death in ambush darkly waits, a death so sad and slow, The shuddering crowd avert their gaze, its horror to forego ; Strongly the tide had outward ebbed, now trembling on the turn, And chains, half liidden in the sand, his feet impatient spurn. Chains which, to floating buoys attached, the path with danger fill, And one now clings with fatal clasp, but yet he fears no ill, Till the mighty strength he brings to bear hath failed to set him free ; Dizzy, bewildered, through the past he keenly probes to see If for some unrepented sin this cruel judgment be. But no, his brain refuses— thought, oh, God, my child, my wife ; Then take the limb he hoarsely cries, but give me, give me life ; There are kindly hearts and helpful hands that would, but cannot, save; No aid that tardy man may bring can match that rushing wave. Oh, the cruel, icy waters ! oh, the stern, relentless fate ! The cold blood curdling horror which surrounds the sad too Late ; Too late, no help from God or man ; too late for warmth and life, For all, save the stern struggle, ere death shall md the strife. 92 POEMS. Inch by inch the doom disputing, yielding slowly limb by limb Oh, the blessed light of heaven, which shall shine not long for him; Every sense shocked into dumbness, on his white lips froze a prayer ; Oh, God, why sleeps Thy mercy, Thine irm deliverer where ? In helpless sorrow stand the crowd, wildly the women wept, And from many a manly bosorn heaving sobs were upward swept — Sobs that sturdy manhood sliamed not, less calm than he who stood With prayer-clasped hands and heavenward gaze, mid the rushing, rising flood. Nor the crowd, in silent horror, to their dwellings turned away, Till the choking, blinding waters closed above their living prey. #* ########## Calmly now, in cool soft ripples, the waters lave the shore ; But where is he, so late that stood, whom now we see no more ? Something is there which gently sways beneath the billowy strife ; Ah ! we hold, by frailest tenure, the brittle thread of life. 'Tis but a blow, a wave, a flash, and stops the feeble breath In the birth pangs of another life, and yet we call it death ; The soul freed from its prison hous,;, with tears our eyes grow dim; Man of the proudly -flashing eye, the strong and sinewy liinb. Who found the narrow bounds of earth, for soaring thought too low; Excelsior, his trumpet cry, yet, knowledge bringeth woe, And death can niar the noblest form, and life is but a span ; The spirit gone, what is he then ? proud, vaunting, boastful man. But a thing to make the boldest quail, awful to see, a blot Upon the loveliness of earth, that was, but now is not; That was a solace, was a hope, a love, a heart's delight, To be put away, forgotten, hidden, buried out of sight. Yet 'tis but clay that earth receives unto her kindly breast, And tenderly, and with a hope, we lay the loved to rest ; A hope that for an earthly cross be changed a heavenly crown, Upon a pleading Saviour fixed, who dare such hope frown down ? POEMS. 93 " Resurgam," our triumphal song, though the pale angel waits, And e'er the valley's gloom be passed, shall shine heaven's pearly gates ; Its jasper streets, its shining courts, and love unveiled is there, The glory beaming from whose front not mortal eye can dare. " There, shall be found solution sweet for all that baffles here, The dawn of holy love and joy, the end of gxief and fear ; No more vain cravings after light, which here the soul must feel, Life's mystery, dark, inscrutable, heaven's fulness shall reveal." DESEKTED. Oh, why did his love leave a void in my heart, - Which on earth can be filled nevei more ? Oh, why did he gain my fond trust and depait, Passing me like a flower lightly o'er ? He vowed, when he culled a white rose for my hair, That my brow could in beauty outvie ; That my eyes liquid depths than the violets more fair, Held the azure of heaven in then- dye. And he swore that his love but with being should fade, That the stars not more constant could shine ; But falsely he sundered the vows that he made, With his dark eyes down flashing in mine. I had clasped to my heart, with a thrill of delight, The sweet vision, entrancing and fair, That transformed the wide earth to an Eden of light. Decked with jewels all precious and rare. Ere fchfe phantom delusive had faded from view, He had knelt at a lovelier shrine ; He has called her his bride, and the cypress and yew Are lit emblems for sorrow like mine, I saw, from the shore, the proud vessel depart, Which my girlhood's bright dream bore away ; And I prayed for them both, and prayed, too, that my heart Its pulses for ever would stay. 94 POEMS. I ask but one boon — 'tis a grave 'neath the tree Where love's music first thrilled on my ear ; And in choosing a blossom a rose let it be, To shed its white leaves on my bier. PHANTASMA. Tired of my room and its simple belongings, I mount my aerial car, And swift o'er the land and the sea it can bear me, To the regions where mysteries are. O'er the blue waters delightedly roaming, Drinking new life from the wave ; Watching its changes — gray, opal, and crimson, In beauty the land never gave. Stately and fair as a swan o'er the waters, Her swift keel dividing the foam, Comes the proud ship, and entranced I listen To a sailor, that singeth of home. And, where dost thou wander ? oh, love is the burden ; Where, and oh, where dost thou roam. While I force from the waves what the land has denied me — Wealth that shall build thee a home ? Dost thou stray by the mere while the shadows are falling, And twilight empurples the west, While the dew on the flowers lieth light as a blessing, And the birds' weary wings are at rest ? Oh, waft me a thought o'er the ocean, my dearest, 'Twill aid me the silence to bear ; Its pitying wing lends the wind that thou hearest, That absent, mine own, thou canst share. Once I found a lone lake lying in a rocky alpine valley, And a mountain torrent fed it, flinging far its spray and foam, By a rocky chain half girded, but the blue sky smiled above it, And the wild birds hovered fearless, and the wild swan was at home. POEMS. 95 There, in many a cleft and fissure, bloomed the heath bells, white and azure, And I plucked them, climbing fearless, nor soil nor foothold shown ; And ' a strange, sweet fancy filled me, and with soft emotion thrilled me, That unto their rugged dwelling they clung by love alone. Then I wreathed them, softly singing of the good that might betide me, Till brow, and neck, and bosom, and full hands could hold no more; And I knew but of one sorrow — that you were not beside me, Andyour shadow fell before me, and my longing pain was o'er, "'Then you whispered words of kindness, bending from your proud " ' --^h^rtfht toward me, fl ', -While I in silent rapture each separate feature scan ; And the wild birds came to listen to the secret that you told me, And upon your broad white forehead, God liimself had written man. Then, for one brief, breathless moment, my life attained completeness, In the next I turned to face you, but your shadowy form was gone ; And a bird sang shrilly o'er me, and the lake laughed into ripples, And the wild swans floated towards me, and the torrent thundered on. Fair freedom loved you ever, ye rocky hills and valleys, Where Tell's brave spirit lingers in proud, exalted fame ; Each lonely mountain fastness, each tarn in silence lying, His bright sword has defended, and hath echoed to his name. 96 FOEMS. MINE NO LONGER. And is she gone, and shall I never, never see her more ; And is she dead, and must for ever I her loss deplore ; And must I from life's joy bells ringing, still sorrowing turn away, And weep to hear the sweet birds singing carols to the May ? Too sadly true the mournful story, never, never more Shall I see her, kiss her, clasp her on this earthly shore ; Tell me not 'tis weak and sinful, this I can but know ; Tell me not, her griefs are ended, and 'tis better so. Gentle words, and kindly spoken, with a meaning sweet, To a heart all crushed and broken, which must still in sorrow beat; And since I weep with quenchless tears for that which cannot be, Oh ! tell me what the unborn years may bring of joy for me. TO E ON HER BIRTHDAY. Dear Emma, with eyes so blue, And lips that so love to smile At the sunny dreams in her heart so true, Where never was thought of guile. As the waves of time flow past, And the days of thy birth come round, May each one be happier far than the last, Each dawning with joy be crowned. For life should be bright and fair, Its sunshine never fail, When eyes, which such radiant glances wear, Have drooped to a thrilling tale. And a treasure of mirth and glee, A glory that cannot pall, A blessing to cherish, her love will be To the home where its light shall fall. POEMS. 97 May a life of joy be thine, And sorrow and tears unknown ; When love shall its rosy garland twine, And build in thy heart its throne. What though the March winds blow Mid the lingering Winter's chill ; They are scarcely felt in the heart's warm glow, That meeteth with prayer each ill. Fond wishes and love I send, Oh do not the offering scorn ; For life were weary without a friend, And trials are with us born. And richer than jewels bright, Or pearls that might deck the hair, Is a spirit pure, and a heart upright, For these may God's Eden share. Ah ! life is like the sea, One moment it seems to sleep, The next 'twill tossed by the temptest be, In an hour we can smile and weep. But ever mid storm and calm, This thought for our pure delight, In Gilead there is healing balm, And the dawn succeeds the night. TO THE MEMORY OF HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS PRINCE ALBERT. Farewell, farewell, oft shall thy name arise, And tuneful lips shall thy sweet praises sing ; And fervent prayers ascending to the skies, For they, the loved, reft of thy sheltering wing. Oh ! ftinu art missed, e'en when in princely hall In festal hours do gay assemblies meet ; Where beauteous feet with fairy lightness fall, And lamps shine down on stately forms and swe< 98 POEMS. But most to yearn, when slow the sad hours steal, When youthful eyes would fain then- father see, And seem to ask him in their mute appeal, His darlings clinging to thy widowed knee. Oh earth, bright earth, how beautiful art thou, When round our path shines sweet united joy ; Oh earth, dark earth, when aching heart and brow Yearn for the love no tempest can destroy. Yet, yet again, sweet lady, hope shall bloom With lustre f ah from clouding sorrow free ; The voice which called thy Albert to the tomb, Hatli choicest blessings in its tones for thee. TOO LATE The world blames failure, loves success, Vae Yictis is its cry ; Woe to the vanquished : stand aside, Oh ! world, and let him die. Watch his brave struggles lose the goal With cold and wary eye ; Of the aching, yearning, bursting heart, Heed not the quivering sigh. Till the worn spirit loses faith, And shrinks in pain and fear, To sing for lips that curl in scorn, To ears that will not hear : Turns in shuddering loathing from a life Which only blight has known, And sinks into the friendly grave, Unhonoured and unknown- Then bring the gorgeous panoply, Tall hearse, and waving plume ; Stand forth ye noble of the land, Attend him to the tomb. Let mutes in sable robes be clad, Let the Dead March resound, Rein in the steeds which fain would prance Too swiftly o'er the ground. POBMS. 99 '• The lips whose words were touched with fire, Are in the coffin hid ; Bring forth the fatal laurel wreath, And lay it on the lid. Of want he died, bring lilies white, And lilies pure 'and sweet, To deck his grave, whose genius lit The'earth around his 'feet. Ye may give him praise, he cannot hear, Let the wide echo rise ; To him belonged the thoughts that breathe, Oh! laud him to the skies. -Pife high the tomb, and let its snow Allowing record bear ; ^Carrara's quarry's best might'yield - -The stone to glisten there. Hath he'helpless babes ? then'gwe them gold. Gold for a father's love, Gold for the heartfelt sympathy, Whose worth he died to prove. But think not all was dark and sad, That marked his brief career ; His heaH reioiced when the snowdrops sprang — Sweet firstlings of the year. Where their slender stems had the brown mould riven, In fairest emerald drest : The first sweet sign which the earth had given, Of the beauty in her breast. For him soft chimes through the wood's green heart, The fairy blue bells rang ; For him the rippling river flowed, The forest minstrels sang. He trod with a free and a bounding step Tho paths of the flowery earth, And a walk on the breezy moorlands gave A thousand beauties birth. Purr- joy was his when the morning broke, Glad, glorious, fresh, and free, And the voice of the jrreat Eternal spoke In the moan of the mighty sea. KM.) POEMS. He had words of cheer for the sinking heart, And love for each living thing ; And he twined for the trees ere their leaves came forth, Sweet idyl's of the spring. He had tuned his harp, and its trembling strings Were wreathed with wild wood flowers ; But no heart responds, though he sweetly sings, And a gloom crept o'ei the hours. By the graves of the sons of song he stood To learn that their years were few ; That his life's decree meant naught but good, Like a revelation grew ; While the Lenten lilies waved in light,' A sea of golden flame, A peace, like the calm of the restful night, To his troubled spirit came. He had knelt and asked for her life in vain, The loveliest and the last, And he felt with a pang that was more than pain, Death's bitterest sting was past. Then he numbered his years with faltering breath, And cried, oh, Lord, how long ? And left to the world, whose scorn was death, A legacy of song. FOR LOVE. 'Twas some pageant of royalty, repal and fair, Which had drawn the rich crowd, and in charm held them there ; And proud steeds were prancing, and fair ladies smiled, But one roams among them distracted and wild. Gather up your rich robes so daintily made, Far from her touch hold your sweeping brocade ; ' C ; lad in the costliest, velvet and fur, Though scantiest covering sufficieth for her. But look in her face, ere vou greet her with scorn, Brow that was fairer ne'er smiled to the morn ; Soft dreamy eyes, in whose dark depths there gleame A pathos of woe that shall live in your dreams. POEMS. 101 Aye, on her face let your haughty gaze rest, And her eyes, pleading prayer shall drive peace from your breast So young, and so friendless, so lost, and alone, In all the wide crowd will there pity her none ? Fair lady Ida in her saddle bends low, Touched by the sweet face with its pallor of woe ; But the gold that she offered was gently refused, And the fan- face beneath her with crimson suffused. Came one sternly reining his charger's proud crest, And the star of some order shone bright on his breast ; And the stranger, with wild eyes that grew to his face. Shrank, back where a pillar could hide from his gaze. ' It is he, she said brokenly under her breath, 'It is he^and he loves her — be welcome then death; \ Thtfn-Sped like some poor hunted deer from the throng, - To where the dark river rolls surging along. Oh, river ! the world is too wide and too cold, Save for those who can bribe it with jewels and gold ; And I, 1 have none, and the bread I but crave, That, too, is denied me, oh ! give me a grave. I will call thee my mother, and unto thy breast Thou shalt fold me, and hide me, and sing me to rest ; I will whisper my story to thee ere I die, And thy voice shall be sympathy, sorrow, reply. And river, deep river, that glideth away, I pray thee be silent of all that I say ; Thou shalt whisper it never, but deep in the sea Lay the trust that I dying bequeathed unto thee. For I would that my fate remained ever unknown, That my name be engraved on no funeral stone ; In the wide world around me no kindred have 1, None to love if I live, none to weep if I die. Yet a home had I once, and surrounded by all Which the eye could delight, or the senses enthral; And of my proud father, sole daughter was I, Yet here, poor :ind wretched, all lonely I die. And unto that home in the far past came one ; And my proud Father loved him, to him as ason ; Wln'l.- to me he was all that was noble and true, Bright, handsome, but faithless, as soon my heart knew. 102 POEMS. Then came a dark hour, for my dear father died, And brave to the last I stayed close to his side ; So soft his last breath, I knew not it had flown, As he falteringly called me his darling, his own. And I struggled for patience in meekness and prayer, The angel of peace touched my brow unaware. # r * * * * ' # * * » * 'Twas a wild day of storm, I remember it well, Of each word that was spoken that hour I can tell. For he came and laid fortune and life at my feet^ And prayed my acceptance, bewilderingly sweet ; To my grief-tortured breast were the look and the tone, As he whispered my dearest, no longer alone. And oh ! the bright world grew so beautiful then, "While he whom I loved seemed a prince among men ; But to one whom I prized as a sister, I told The story, whose sweetness no silence could hold. I saw, as she listened, her lips growing white, _ Then she knelt, and her words turned my day into night; She said that for years she his promise had held, And I felt my strength ebbing, as by a blow felled. That only in pity he asked for my hand, That my father's indebtedness gave him all land; Whatsoever he owned, the fair home, that was mine, Through debt, just and legal, I ought to resign. Then unto my chamber I carried my pain. And oft he entreated me thence, but in vain ; To anguish abandoned I waited for night, "Whose friendliest darkness could cover my flight. And ne'er, from that day until now, have I seen The proud form, which e'er in my judgment had been, True type of all manliness, 'mid the bright crowd It seemed as my heart miist his name cry aloud. Turned unto that cry, the proud rider, 'tis the same, 'Tis the voice of my lost one, and wildly he came Adown the wet river path, where she kneels yet, And the white anguished face he will never forget. It is you, have I found you, my darling, my own, So still in his arms, that the frail breath seems flown ; And unto the carriage he tenderly bears, And the soft eyes unclose to his tears and his prayers. POEMS. 103 Ah ! how could you leave me in anguish, he cri es, She is dead, who had woven the network of lies That has kept us apart, love, the home was your own. And all the wide park lands pertaining — a moan, From her white lips for answer was given One fluttering breath, and her soul was in heaven ; Too late, he said hoarsly, my God, 'tis too late, Surely love, unreturned, in woman breeds hate. MONTELAN. Wept the lady, frowned the knight, Through the hall a gloom was spread Hushed breath and footfall light, For the baby heir was dead. Montelan's lady bowed Her head, the blow to bear ; But Sir Egbert, stern and proud, In fierce sorrow mourned his heir. Ah ! gentle heart, she knew The source whence sorrows fall, And to her spirit true, Prayed strength to bear it all. And strength unto her day, At her gentle asking came ; God gives and takes away, She said, and blessed His name. But since that awful hour,' Beside his darling's bed, When failed of prayer the power. No word his lips had said. So suddenly revealed The stern and fatal blow, That the fount of speech seemed sealed. And clothed his soul in woe. And through the silent days He trod the gloomy hall, Where proud escutcheons grace. The darkly bannered wall. 104 POEMS. There, from their gilded frames, Looked knight and lady down ; Bright in the land their names, For beauty and renown. Those suits of armour high Montelan's sons had worn, When shouts of victory Far on the breeze were borne. Thus passed a slow year by, Worn to a shadow now, Though once proud thoughts and high Commanded on his brow. They said that music's breath Might break the sullen spell, And cause, or sleep, or death, Or frenzy, wild to tell. Lady Eva grieved to see Such shadow on his brow, And to set his silence free Unto heaven she made a vow. Hers the hand and voice should be To clear the clouded brain ; Glad, tender, wild, and free, Must ring the changeful strain. Ushered in by storm and cloud, The day of trial came ; Fierce tempests, wild and loud, Shook door and window frame. They were sable robes that swept Richly round her on the floor, Where the velvet roses kept The bloom they last year wore Beside her harp she stood, One fair hand upon the strings; But no song's melodious flood Through the silvern silence rings. And gathered from afar, The issue to await, All of his kindred are In sorrow for his state. ' POEMS. 105 But now the tuneful beat Of music breaks the gloom ; Unfaltering, clear, and sweet, Her rich voice fills the room. Of flowers and joyous birds. And summers in then prime ; While to the pleasant words The happy notes_keep time. And ever as she sings You can breathe the breath of flowers, And hear the rush of wings, And .tread the leafy bowers. As life were in the strings, Throbbing in utterance sweet Of life's diviner things, Of rest for weary feet. Of love that would not die, And of faith that deeper grew, Though shafts of calumny Had pierced it through and through. White from/the velvet^dress, Rose neck and bosom fair ; On her brow's pale loveliness, Her crown of golden hair. , His wandering glance had sought, And found her kneeling there. Flashed in a fitful thought, If angels were as fair. But yet his eye was wild, Distracted yet his mien ; He felt but as a child Each feature of the scene. Thy race were ever brave Upon the battle field ; 'Twas a glorious deed which gave Tin' ravi'ii to their shield. 106 POEMS. Unto the bugle call Spring forth the true and brave.. Who care not if they fall, Their bleeding land to save. You hear, as runs the song, A trampling at the gate, Where steeds a thousand strong. Their mailed riders wait. And groan, and tear, and sigh, Must gentle hearts endure, While to heaven rings the cry Of the crushed, down-trodden poor. She had touched the chord at last, Found the key note to the tone, Which had stirred him like a blast, From a martial trumpet blown. Now proudly raised his head, But wearily she sang, And to his hurried tread The hollow armour rang. O'er wrought, she could no moi-e, Whose strength lay in her love ; And, prostrate on the floor, Her form he bends above. My love, thou shalt not die, I will give thee of my breath, Whose love's intensity Hath fought a fight with death. She wakes to see and hear The old fond look and tone ; His wooing whisper near, My beautiful, my own. POEMS. 107 NIGHT. 'Tis sweet to gaze in silence wrapt upon the twilight sky, When the earth is all to stillness hushed, save the low winds' 'gentle sigh; To watch the fair and countless stars in shining myriads rise, Hanging then* tiny lamps of love o'er all the arching skies. See where the moon in glory rides, the calm night's pale-brow'd queen, Mid her circling halo, wan and sweet, in robes of silver sheen ; Ne'er monarch of earth had such glorious host for her bright admiring train, « Or such fan- expanse as the azure vast for her proud and peaceful - - " retgn. OTHurtTwhere ocean widely heaves his bright untroubled breast, ". As though soft slumbers wrapt the soul by inward dreams oppressed, For the King of the storm fled fast and far to his lone and rock- bound cell; And now at peace the wild waves are, and the stars their love can tell. And soft they rest in the tremulous blue, day ne'er such beauty gave ; Each silver star, each fleecy cloud enmirror'd in the wave; Who hath not felt that beauty's spells crown's eve's mystorious hour : The voice we love sounds sweeter then, and tin-ills the soul w.th power. There's music in the wind's soft sigh, through autumn's fading trpcs * There's beauty for each dewy flower kissed by the gentle breeze ; The eleeping earth, the star-lit heaven, the proud, the glorious sea, In blending harmony declare the night more fan to be Than the broad glare of busy day, with noisy strife and din, And toil and care, and too, alas, its load of woe and sin. Ah, cold and dull that heart must be that feels no joyous thrill, To see the loveliness of ea rt h from Borne green-mantled hill, While the pale k r l" r .v floods the plain beneath his raptured gaze, And wafts his Bpirit's song to heaven of wonder, love, and praise 108 POEMS. S E M P E 11 E A D E M . There are silver threads raid her dark hair cast, But her eyes with the old bright lustre shine ; She hath sorrow, known through the changeful past, She hath wept o'er many a hope's decline. Bending in love to the stern decree, When the king of terrors swooped fiercelyjlown ; Tuning her heart's sweet minstrelsy, To his holy will, who can crush or crown. Oh ! sweetly she tended our infant years, With a brow on which frowns were never seen ; Fondly commingling with ours her tears, A changeless friend hath our mother been. And is it for this we could slight her now ? When her failing strength speaks of time's decay ; When every line, which has crossed her brow, Doth of sorrows tell in its own sad way. A story of hopes that have blighted been, But so brightly shone in their dawning ray ; Clothing her life in the circling sheen, Of a love that fled with the past away. A story of care, and tears, and woe, Of vanished wealth, and of friends turned cold : Whose smiles were sweet in the long ago, But away with the things of time have rolled. Oh ! let us cherish and lovejier more, As the silver hairs with the raven blend ; 'Tis but yielding in duty the love she bore, Which but with the fever of life will end. Smile, dear mother, for love shall cling, True and unfading, thy years around ; And its circling light must gladness bring, Where sorrow and tears have too oft been found. POEMS. 109 '■ REMINISCENCES. Looking back through the mist of long years that are shaded, By dews of the past looming distant and fair, Lov«d forms I can trace e'er their beauty had faded, At time's cruel touch, or earth's cankering care. And there, gleaming white from the trees which surround it, The dearly loved home of my childhood I see Through my fast-falling tears, for my fond heart hath bound it In memory's casket a jewel to be. In its beauty unchanged, since by youth's careless fingers, The blossoms were culled from each clustering bough, And lovingly round it my fancy still lingers, ,-- Lifting shadows of time in its light from my brow. Aad e*ef around it, in freshness and beauty, Stands the tree which, in forest and field, must be king; — That its noble name gave to that home, which, in duty To love's fervent breathings, the memory I sing. *********** Ah ! there is the lattice, whose stancheon so faithless, Neglected its trust ; and where love, as of old, Laughed at bars and at locksmiths, escaping all scathless, Nor daring to rest, till the circlet of gold Shone bright from thy finger, my sister, disclosing The lie that for life had thy freedom enchained ; And thou, in thy heart's purest trust, ne'er supposing That love could depart while on earth he remained. Oh ! fair was her brow, when the bridal wreath bound it, — All bright from the folds of her soft shining hair; And the day has been blessed, for the halo around it Hath its beauty retained, never dimm'd by despair. Soon vanish'd the storm, for the year had scarce ended E'er again in the home of her girlhood she smiled ; And her father's roof o'er her its sweet shade extended, When her lips learnt to pray for her first darling child. *********** On, on speeds the tyrant, with brow unrelenting, In sunshine or shadow, in joy or despair; No sympathy he for our smiles or lamenting, We trace him by furrows and silvery hair ! 110 POEMS. By chairs that are vacant, by hearths that are lonely ; By faces familiar, that cheer ns no more ; By the sadness that dwells on the lips where we only Saw smiles in the past, e'er hope's visions were o'er. E'er youth's sunny hours, with their brightness departed, Or hearts that so loved us, lay under the mould ; For the gayest of all have grown sad and faint-hearted, Who lured us with song, have to music grown cold. How sad was the hour — oft in dangers predicted ; A life's sands were nuraber'd — a spirit must fly ! Dear brother departed, in life how afflicted ! In the first flush of manhood, how sad 'twas to die ! And how sudden the blow — not a farewell was spoken, But rudely the thread of thy life snapp'd in twain ; Every tie that had bound thee to earth rudely broken ; Dear brother, farewell ! beyond passion or pain. Unman'd by the clouds, which their shadows cast o'er him, The husband and father a wanderer came ; His wife and his children, behind, and before him, The measureless ocean and wealth he might claim. Oh ! what were his feelings, as faintly behind him The landscape familiar was fading so fast ? Say, would not his tears as a veil serve to blind him. From that agoniz'd gaze, which is ever the last? The deep-heaving ocean, beneath and around him ; — The ship speeding fast on bright wings through the gale : Ah ! where are the ties which from childhood have bound him ? None weep for his sorrows ! each breast hath its wail ! Each heart hath its anguish ! each bosom its yearning ! And sad were our lot, could we fathom its woe ; Yet of such is our life, and on earth we are earning ; Or glory above, or dread horror below. But blest, 'mid life's changes, are those who can travel ; Who each unto each have sweet sympathy shown ; Who together the web of the future unravel ; And in grief or in joy, weep or smile not alone. POEMS. Ill Then, then may the cold world or smile, or be scornful, It wakes not our feelings, we crave not its love ; But sad must that heart be — that spirit, how mournful ! Which in calm or in tempest, still looks not above. I have asked of the stars, as they glittered above me, — Oh ! say, Know ye aught of that father of mine ? Does he live ? is he well ? does he think of, or love me ? Does he ne'er for the land of his boyhood repine ? I have lingered in awe for the answer that came not ; Tho wind's sullen murmur swept sad through the trees ; Oh ! why did he leave us in life, to return not, Or, trembles his bosom with feelings like these ? Oh ! had not then- mother's fond love clung around them, * ""A. -ftaven of peace for then- spirits' unrest ; — ■ To her half-broken heart in sweet tenderness bound them, — Oh ! where had they wandered — unknown and unblest ? Oh ! where had they wandered, — whose childhood was tended With comforts of wealth, but whose youth was o'ercast ; — And but with each life shall the struggle be ended, — Should fortune not smile to their crowning at last ? Yet not sad shall their hearts be, but strengthened the rather. As firm from each slight shall their spirits rebound ; Looking upwards to Him of lone orphans, the Father, Who, in love or in mercy, not wanting is found ! Then "courage, my dearest ! life's path is before you, Though the thorns and the roses lie mingled around ; Earth hath many to love, — the blue heavens are o'er you. And One is o'er all who hath wisdom profound ! *********** How sweet rang the chimes on a fair Christmas morning Through the stately Cathedral's far sweeping aisles ; How light were their footsteps, how rich the adorning, Of hearts with their bliss, and of lips with then- smiles ! With what trust in their hearts knelt the youth and the maiden. The future, ue'er dreading -the present, how fair ! May their life's path be smooth, with sweet happiness laden, Each breeze of the summer, each breath of the air. 112 POEMS. For she, who that morn had her early vows plighted, Hath an inspring of joy which no ill can remove ; By a rite, sweet and holy, to Jesus united, A saint of His Church, and a child of His love ! How I love those grey walls, for a memory hangs o'er them, All hright through the past shines a vision of joy ! Of hearts that united, saw life bright before them, And fondly they deem'd naught their love could destroy. Only then, had my footsteps those sacred walls entered ; 'Twas a dark winter day, but no gloom could I see, For round that high altar my thoughts were all center'd, And one by my side who the world was to me ! Oh ! years may pass quickly, and age fall around me, Yet clear to the last shall that vision prevail; That Cathedral be loved where such sweet fetters bound me, When my hair hath turned white, and my cheek hath grown pale. Thrice woven the spell that should bind thee for ever To those who have knelt and pledged faith at thy shrine, In the pride of their youth to be fond— faithless never ; Could vows from a warm heart be truer than mine ? Thou, too, though so youthful a husband and father, Ere the bloom of thy boyhood in woe died away ; May her love cling around thee, though tempest should gather, To bless and to cheer thee through life's changing day. Then last, but not least, in our thoughts and affection, His mother's young darling— the hope of her age ! The star of her thoughts in sad hours of dejection ! Who hath tasted the bitters on life's chequered page. May her hope not be vain, but his love be the haven Where the weary-toss'd bark from the tempest shall rest; And what time can efface not, oh ! sweetly be graven, In letters of love, her dear name in his breast. May her evening of life be all cahn in its closing ;— More bright, like the sun, when his setting is near ; In the love of her children so sweetly reposing, And of time, fleeting onward, each moment more dear. <• POEMS. 11& EVANGELINE. Her home was bright, a fairy bower, Wit'i song of bird and bloom of flower ; And fountains cool that bubbling played, Whose clear spray flashed in the linden shade. And love had strewn with lavish hand, Perfume and toy from every land ; To please the eye, delight the sense, And crowned was all with love intense, Impassioned, warm, as e'er had birth, Upon her childhood's sun blessed earth ; He had woo'd her in lands beyond the sea, Where her mother sleeps neath the tamarind tree. And such passionate love in her soul was rife, That she wept not to leave him who gave her life, But cheerfully over the dark blue sea, She came with the lord of her destiny. Her step was so light that it scarce could press 9 From the flowers the dew of then loveliness ; Eer face was so fair, and her dark eyes shone, 'Twus the spirit of brightness you gazed upon. followed the deer to their green retreat, . ! as gay and a f^tep as fleet ; And Bhe Lived in the sunny noons to lie, With gaze upturned to the summer sky, Where the clouds which float o'er its smiling blue, From the sun's bright glance bake a golden hue ; i chi That life was too happy, death too near. By crimson ch sek and fluttering breath, And Failing s knew 'twas death; To earth's beauty, and all it ga pillowing b I he Loathsome grave. I she \\ And evi ' : ; ' him si bnotl ii'»- of her breaking heart, ,m him bo pi 114 POEMS. Whose love had made her life complete, Who sought her ever with hastening feet ; To hide his anguish in vain he strove, His soul's bright idol, his bride, his love. No ripple to stir the lake's calm breast, Her boat lay idle, its oar at rest ; No song for the birds in the greenwood slept. Save one on the linden that vigil kept. Through the valley the notes of his last sweet strain, Had the echoes scarce slept ere he sang again ; More thrillingly mournful, more movingly sweet, The exquisite cadences blend and meet. Till the soul might forget its earthly woe, And heavenly longings within it grow ; Sing on sweet bird through the eve's dark hours, Meet that thy love were a queen among flowers. And meet that thou easest in song thy breast, In the lone-sweet hours of calm and rest ; How lovely the night, how soft and still, The young moon's disc o'er the pine-crowned hill. One pure pale star is beside her there, And Earth and Heaven alike are fair. But deaf to the song in the linden tree, And blind to beauty he will not see ; Brings one his grief to the solitude, Of the woodland shades where none intrude. Prone on the turf, none, none may see, Where the strong; man wrestles in agony ; No right grief this to be soon forgot, His life's life quenched since she is not. Traced on his brow for one night's despair, How deep the lines which are furrowed there ; And the fire and the pride in his eye that shone, From that dread hour, are for ever gone. POEMS. 115 Then lie rises silent and pale and stern. From his brow no eye of his woe shall learn, He hears the wind through the pine trees moan. And in anguish breatheth alone — alone. BEREAVED. I know a young mother, how sweet and fair. With her raven curls and her snowy brow ; And such lustrous eyes, though the look they wear. It saddens my spirit to gaze on now. -- - ""Oh ! not long does it seem since that morn so fair. , . When a bridal cortege swept proudly by ; * And merry bells rang through the balmy air, And how lovely the bride on each lip — the cry. And life sped on like a golden dream Of cloudless skies and summer flowers ; For the wide wide earth did an Eden seem, And t-hey the blest in its garden bowers. And God in His wisdom to love and bless, Had given of His bounty with royal hand ; For an infant smiled to each fond caress, And a little world was that household band. 'Twas his father's locks that lent the shade Of golden gleam to that baby brow ; But his mother's smile round his sweet lips played. His mother that mourns him in anguish now. Oh ! the delicate bloom of that pearly cheek Was like tint of rose upon ivory thrown ; And the deep blue eyes of innocence speak. Such as but infant years have known. Oh well might she prize him, her gentle child, Her bright and her beautiful fair-haired boy ; And well might she mourn him in agony wild. The hope of her life of her being the joy. L16 POEMS. I stood by her side, 'twas an Autumn eve. And I knew that her love was a worship wild ; And I gjntly whispered Oh ! how would it grieve Your heart, sweet mother, to lose your child. I turned from her gaze with a dread in my heart. Which I feared to interpret, so vague did it seem ; For her Lips white with terror were fixed and apart, And her glances appalled me, so wild in their gleam. Then closer she clasped him and wildly she prayed, " O Father have mercy and spare him to me, Take of wealth what thou wilt, still shall honour be paid, But my darling, oh ! leave him a blessing to be. Take of wealth what thou wilt, not a murmur shall fall, From the lips that have shrined Thee, their God evermore ; But bereave not my life, nor my senses appall, For my full heart would break ere the burden it bore. Take of wealth what thou wilt, it is thine at command, And with loved ones around us, not much we require ; Take it all and it please Thee, withold not Thine hand, But my treasures, oh ! touch not, my babe and its sire. Oh ! soon shall his lips lisp sweet murmurs of praise, I will teach him Thy precepts, and tell him Thy love ; I will lead his young feet in Thy wisdom's pure ways, And fit him to serve Thee in glory above." I wept as she prayed, for her heart on her lips Seemed breaking in anguish her strength to consume ; And I feared for her reason should sorrow eclipse The sweet hopes of her lif e in the pride of their bloom. She kneels by his cot when the chill evening falls, For winter around hath his white mantle thrown ; But no chill can be felt in those warm curtained walls, Tho' the wind sweeps around them with low wailing moan. In her deep yearning love all impatient to press His sweet brow with her lips ere the day beams are spread. She comes, but to gaze on that calm loveliness, For her idol is broken, her darling 1 is dead. -" POEMS. 117 Oh ! the seal of Heaven was sweetly set On the marble calm of that angel brow; No more shall his eyelids with tears be wet, A cherubim bright with his Father now. O could you have seen but that shaded room, And the snow-white couch that within was spread With choicest flowers in then- early bloom, That were gathered to honour the youthful dead, They have borne him away, and the hall that rung To his silvery laughter is silent and lone ; : - And his cot and bower with dark drapery hung, Seems to ruourn the sweet presence from earth ever flown. * r ■ .-•►"- ' Poor childless mother, with tearless eye, And quivering lip and burning brow ; She saw the bright hope of her life sweep by, And murmured there's naught I can live for now. Oh ! still she is blessed in the love so true, That closer for sorrow clings now to her side ; And fain would each shadow of evil pursue, So tenderly loves he his sorrowing bride. Oh ! Eunice, my darling, take comfort, he said, There is one, even God, whom our weakness doth know ; He can soften the storm to the uncovered head, And will strength to our day, ii^we ask it, bestow. The cloud that around hath its canopy thrown, Ik with silvi c enlined, and our spirits shall soar; Prom the furnace all pure 3 earthly glory has flown, Hut iu Eeaven I i ing i'<>:- one angel more. «&e 118 POEMS. TRUE. And wilt thou share my gallant bark, and wilt thou be its queen, Through all the dangers that may flash dark changes o'er the scene, Shall the suns arise in glory, and the holy stars look down, On our hearts till death united, though Fortune smile or frown ? There are guests within thy father's hall, and there like water poured, In crystal goblets clear and blight the rich wine crowns the board, But thou, the loveliest of the throng, art here alone with me, And I, the barque awaiteth which must bear me far from thee. But I swear by all the constant stars that gem yon azure dome, That never from its plight ad faith shall my true heart e'er roam, In storm and calm, through shade and shine, come weal or wildest woe, Thou shalt be mine, I will be thine, sweet love, where'er I go. I may tarry now no longer, for the hour is on the wane, My Flora spreads her pinions to bear me o'er the main, My gallant white-win ged Flora, no eagle soaring free, Ere cleft the air so proudly as she the foaming sea. And wilt thou think of me, love, when I am far away ? When o'er these placid waters the storm king holdeth sway ; If in thy humid eye, love, I may read mine answer now, No king was e'er so happy with a crown upon his brow. No king upon his royal throne, though bright eyes on him shine, E'er sought for answering tenderness in orbs more clear than thine, Ah ! love, thine eyes are strangely bright, thy face is wondrous fair, And glorious in its ebon gleam, thy crown of shining hair. I will bring thee gems, but well I know, thine eyes can dim their shine, And orient peai-ls, but sweet no pearl may match that brow of thine, But e'er our clasped hands sever and e'er we say farewell, I would hear the voice which round me hath cast love's fairy spell. POEMS. 119 Thy tones are strangely sweet, love, they thrill my soul to hear, let thy pure lips whisper once more that I am dear ; Now bless thee lor thy cheering words, and low-soft tones of love, Aud bless thee for thy trusting faith which bids me look above. 1 shall hear afar thy whisper, and see thine upraised hand, Thy love, our Father ruleth o'er the sea, as o'er the land, In an isle the summer loveth, beyond yon southern sea, Ere my feet shall press these shores again, I'll build a home for thee, Where the vine shall hang its clusters, the lotus flower arise, And the pomegranate and lily beneath those bluer skies, The rose shall breathe from blooming lips, the willow lend its green, -~*AjmH: will be thy gallant knight, and thou, mine island queen. Farewell, the light breeze freshly blows, farewell, for I away, Full many a tiresome league must be, ere dawns the coming day ; The boat is lowered, the signal fired, the snowy sails expand, Farewell, my love, my bride, my life, farewell my native land. Alone upon the shingly beach, no step save hers is there, And soft the holy moonlight falls in blessing on her hair, But deep within her warm true heart her buried love must lie, No grief must cloud her brow to-night, no tear drop dim her eye. Her step is languid in the dance, her heart is on the wing, With her brave young sailor lover, her hero, and her king, She heeds not that low words of praise are murmured in her ear, She can but see the lowering heaven whose thunders mutter near. It comes at last, the flood gates ope, the storm raged fearful then. Before Jehovah's arm outstretched, what wrecks the aid of men. And through the pauses of the storm, came faint across the foam, The gun which spoke some vessel's fear, she had looked her last on home. Oh night of sickening deadly fear, but to be spent in prayer. Yet prayed she with unwavering trust, calm in her great despair. And with th i li -' faint ray of dawn down to the beach she came, To read upon a shatl sred board the letters of her name The " Flora," sure her eyes can see, but scarce her sense can know, Not all at once hor soul can reach the fierce overmastering woe, On azure ground the lett3rs white, she spjlls half frenzied o'er, Then reeling, falls upon the sand, and knows and feel no more. Is this the sea whose laughing waves beneath the sun rays gleam Which in its wrathful fury broke her young life's happy dream, That rent the stout oak in its pride, while tempests girt her round, Till havoc from its covert sprang, and death was in the sound ? Is this the sky so clear and bright, so smiling and serene, An azure dream of loveliness, as ne'er a storm had been, That frowned upon the sinking ship, all bravely battling still, Till to her helm she answered not, and the wild sea had its will ? She saw him tread the reeling deck, while waves rolled mountains high, She saw his glance the dark Heaven sweep, one pale star to descry, Yet heart and voice alike were firm, kind words of cheer he gave, The last to leave the parting planks, unto the end so brave. Oh dreai-y world where thou art not, oh cruel craving sea, Oh darling of my tortured heart, would I had died with thee, Scarcely her trembling limbs can bear, she riseth pale and still, My Father, give me strength, she cries, to do Thine holy will. Oh treacherous hope that whispered not in that dark hour to cheer, Of one who from the deep was drawn when death seemed strangely near, "When sight, and voice, and thought had fled, and hardly life remained, Now tossinsr on Ins cabin bed in wild delirium chained. 'Tis a bronzed and bearded stranger from a land beyond the sea, And lines have crossed his brow's proud calm, few though his years could be, In erger haste the shore is reached, and from his lip there came, Shook by the tremour at his heart, the one beloved name. They met upon the quiet shore in one enraptured horn, And joy from streaming vials poured had thrilled them with its power, In the sweet shelter of his love, no sorrow shall she know. One faithful breast, one strong right arm, between her and all woe. POEMS. 121 IN MEMORI A M . Before the sturdy reapers fall the sheaves, all golden bright, Stands the old Church, grey and solemn, in the rich September light ; Fair from heaven falls the noontide, and the river ripples by ; Merry birds among the branches, green the earth, and blue the sky; 'Tis a baptism of glory, for the Giver's royal hand Crowns the Autumn hours with fulness, scatters blessings o'er the land. But'not the corn fields waving, nor the waters in their play, H or the glad, sweet sunlight streaming, calleth from their homes • .*»«"to-day, — All the crowds that, gathering slowly, come from many miles around, All converging to one centre, all on one sad errand hound ; And, in dark and painful contrast, to the sparkle and the glow, Come the band of black -robed mourners, treading mournfully and slow ; While the sun in splendour shineth, all untouched by human woe ; And the coffin, borne before them, holdeth in its oaken shell Whom the hand of death hath stricken one, — how widely loved and well ; In the glory of his manhood, ere lv's years had passed their prime, Or, mantling o'er his tresses, fell the silver grey of t ; Oh ! envious grave ! too early fill'd ; oh, shaft ! too swiftly sped : 'Tis a whole community that mourns in sorrow for the <1 Though ttie loss be universal, which we a 1 ! in common s 1 What grief is like his mother's grief, so heard to meet and bear. Oh! thrice bereavM mother, deep sy> ' For thee in every feeling heart through ( country roiwl ; And many a prayer that grace b^ given I crushing blow ; 'Tis some wise end to answer, else God I--' 1 n • so. Though tlv words may fall unheeded, yet is 1 laning sweel . Oh! bear thy load of ansruishunto th Sa iour 5 feel ; H»> knoweth what the heart can bear when woe hath o'er ; t swept. And hath he a< I in Love supreme, for human sorrow' wopt? Past the closed and shrouded windows slowly "i<>> es the funeral lin, \i") ( l lately lifted twice, is lifted once again. Baby lips, whose breath is sweeter than sweetest perfumes are ; Baby eyes, whose lustrous shining 'tis sad that tears should mar ; Fondling arms, so closely clinging, and merry pattering feet ; Little heart, with love o'erflowing, so innocent and sweet ; I had not clasped thee, darling, unto my breast to-day, But for his care, who from our midst too soon hatli passed away ; For feeble seemed thy chance for life, dull eye, and labouring breath, And we who knelt beside thy bed well deemed it one of Death. Its shadow o'er the threshold fell, its angel's wing drooped near, The stars shone cold and pitiless, the low wind whispered fear ; Hope lived anew, when by thy side he took his patient stand, And baffled fever fled the skill that marked a master's hand. Surely God has blessed his labours along mercy's silent ways, Till the deeds by mens' lips spoken win a warmer word than praise ; Mid all the glowing eulogies, his bright career call forth, Here be my tribute rendered, though weak and little worth. So long as kind unselfish deeds to move men's hearts have power. The annals of our town shall bear the name of Doctor Bower. POESY. Thou spirit, blest and beautiful, whose sweet pervading power Illumes with more than earthly light the poet's musing hour ; Whose tender breathings ever clothe the soul that at thy shrine Bendeth in loving ecstasy, a laurel wreath to twine. And proud for thee, that glorious hour, when the rejoicing earth Thrilled to the notes that angels sang, proclaiming Jesu's birth ; Pure from his lips thy language came, who raised the widow's son, Who gathered children in His arms, and blesssed them one by one. The soul unto thy voice is stirred when morning clears the skies, And sweet from nature's myriad strings the swelling anthems rise; When tne birds their matchless peans rain from every trembling spray, And the earth in beauty widely smiles beneath the new-born day. POEMS. 128 Wood unto wood in echo cries, and leaping rill to rill, To praise their; great Creator's name, nor shall my voice be still ; Still shalt thou live when peace hath crowned with smiles the flowery plains, As when, o'er homes made desolate, the God of vengeance reigns. Thou art in the mother's pleading prayer for the form so white and wan, In her silent grief, so meekly borne, o'er hope for ever gone ; In thertender beauty that she sees in every broken toy, All that his tiny hands have held, that blue-eyed Baby boy. That Little boot, though old and worn, not earth's bright gold 'could buy, -A ?ink that softly bindeth, yet a tender cherished tie ; .Ajid^.whei'e no careless hand may touch, save hers in love and prayer, Where her wild tears like rain are poured, a tress of golden hair. Sweet relics of the happy past, when joy within her sprang, Ere mid the baby angels bright her cherub infant sang ; There's poesy when soft winds sigh o'er siunmer flowerets fair, And in the mighty thunder tone, that shakes the ambient air, Where the evening bells are„softly heard through solitudes afar. And clustering daisies gem the sod beneath the eve's lone star ; Thy voice in powerful cadence speaks where strong proud billows rave, And hovers o'er that peaceful spot, the Christian's lowly grave. No heart so sad but thou canst cheer, — light for the darksome hour, As grateful fragrance lingers yet round the crashed and broken flower ; Thy ray can thrill the dreariest life upon the earth's green sod. But perfect only where it swells the golden choir of God. A BIRTHDAY MUSING. Snow heralds thy birthday my bright-eyed boy, The fourth that around thee hath rolled in joy ; To the deepening shade of thy clustering hair. In gathering smiles for thy brow to wear. Four changing years of toil and strife, Through fitful phases of daily life ; Of blessings, and crosses, of hopes and fears, Of the weary fled from this vale of tears. Of furrows deepened on manly brows, Of dark locks whitened to winter snows, Of sorrow-shadowing youth's sweet smile, As his heart awakens to earthly guile. Oh years, short years, how swift ye fly, On silent pinions ye pass us by, If we read the story ye darkly tell, If o'er its pathos we ponder well. Pluck a drifting leaf by the wild breeze hurled, Ere from our clasping away 'tis whirled; And swiftly read ere the night comes on. And the day is done, and the light is gone. A thousand ills on the page we trace, Allied for ever to Adam's race ; Of the poor who sow and the rich who reap, Of nations sunk in a stupor sleep. Where each heart hath an idol, and blind he kneels, Till crushed to death by the silent wheels, Oh wilful blindness, the short hours fly, Alike unmindful of smile and sigh. And death and despair on their wings are borne, For we care not to li^e, for the lost to mourn ; There's an aching void where joys sweet flowers, Bloomed for the loved in those bygone hours. Oh passing years, we have loved ye long, We have brightened your presence with dance and song, Yet we may not keep you nor call ye ours, Or ye leave us, weeping, o'er wind-swept bowers. Oh Time, thy sword is for ever keen, The mightiest reaper the world has seen ; The dead are crowdir.g the field and glade, A sound of weeping thy voice hath made. •~* *** POEMS. 125 Calling the hoary to peace and rest,, Snatching the babe from its_mother's breast ; And the budding promise, so fair to see, In the breast of manhood must yield to thee. The young, the hoary, the proud and high, Peasant and King must together lie ; In palace hall, as in lowly cot, None, none on earth are by thee forgot. Let thy chilling breath through the castle blew. And the throne is empty, the sceptre low ; How still he lies who so proudly trod. Exacting homage, defrauding God. Each son of earth to thy will must bow, Thou monarch unyielding of stony brow ; But. summer and winter o'er land and sea, Have brought but blessing my child for thee. There's an earnest light in thy soft dark eye, And winning grace, as thy step flits by ; I could wish for my darling a poet's fame, A mystic grace is around the name. That breathing thoughts and words of fire, Should swell his heait. and grace his lyre — But should not this in his future be, May his heart be pure and lus spirit free. With a kindly hand for totteiing age, Unsullied by meanness las youth's lair page; And musing moments can rend the v< il, For the future charms as an unread tale. bright the landscape and fair the scene, With no darkening si adowsto fall between; Afar 1 Bee thee, bright, brave, and fair, My life declining, thy joy and care. A tenderness sweet for thy mother's years, In affection pure, to calm my fears ; Brightening each gathering cloud awaj . Till closes the scene, on life's ended day. 126 POEMS. HOPE ON Hope on, hope ever, though the clouds hang low ; Though sorrow chills the sunlight of thy home ; Though cold in death the heart that loved thee so ; Yea, though through earth an alien thou niay'st roam. 'Tis ever thus, for man, of woman born, Must live and suffer ere the goal be won , Yet, do we know that hour before the dawn Is still the darkest and the drearest one. Throw off the gloom that shrouds thy earnest soul ; Raise to the light thy pale, despairing brow ; Omniscient grace must spurn our weak control ; Hope thou and live, for God is gracious now. Now is the time, the dear accepted time ; Salvation's day ; oh, let it not pass by ; How knowest thou but the next midnight's chime Might prove thy summons cold and still to He. Not without hope a Christian's tear drops flow, On whom God loveth will his chastenings fall; From sore temptation, and from grief below, Up shall he mount, and joy shall crown them all. And oh, for comfort, cheer some sinking heart, And kindly tell where hope and glory lie ; Out of thy store new faith in life impart, And strength and solace shall thou gain thereby. Seek thou the haunts where crime abounds and woe, Where sin's dark river widens as it flows, Till grown so vast no bound its waves can know, As o'er each soul the turbid waters close. Lift thou the veil that shrouds some sufferer there ; Whisper of God, and bid the stricken live ; With fervent soul breathe thou for him a prayer ; Would'st thou have comfort, thou must comfort give- As the uprising of the glorious sun Gives to the earth its clear, illumined ray, So hope's sweet light can cheer the joyless one. And spread with flowers his dark and desert way. POEMS. 127 Like morning mists thy gloom shall from thee fly ; Should mercy's work thy heart and thoughts engage. Serene and blue, without a cloud, thy sky, And bright thy name upon a deathless page. Hope on, despair not, though thy foes prevail, God lives and reigns, though veiled His purpose be ! Fear not the pangs which make thy cheek grow pale ! Doubt not His love, who bled on Calvary's tree ! Though mocked and scourged, yet all He meekly bore, Though at His wish bright legions from above .Had round him thronged, and deluged earth with gore ' And canst thou doubt His wise and wondrous love ? i A MEMORY. Soft o'er my spirit a light is stealing, And in its glory I see thee stand ; The clouds roll back, the blue revealing Of the sky that hung o'er youth's fairy land. Oh, happy hours, too sweet to linger Yet a refluent ray do ye softly fling, While hope's fair plant puts forth one blossom, To whisper in winter sweet thoughts of spring. To the s :>ng I sing thou wilt surely listen, My heart's sweet sister in days gone by ; When the world we saw lay flushed with sunrise, Nor clouds stayed long in the smiling sky. O sunny banks of the rippling river, Whose murmurous music so filled the houra That we gave no heed to the prophet breezes, Whose warning voices swept o'er the flowers. Do we pause to think when the sun is shining, That clouds will gather, and rain will fall ? Or strive to meet, without repining. The crosses which are the lot of all. They are only apples the trees are bearing, But then they were globes of golden bloom ; They are only flowers the earth is wearing, That were woven gems from an angel's loom. 128 POEMS. We both had sisters, and loved them dearly, On the same white pillow they took their rest ; But our hearts, in a closer bond entwining, Had shrined each other as first and best. Ah ! surely those were our golden days, love, When our childish troubles were all confessed, For our mother's heart came forth to meet them, And we wept our tears on her gentle breast. Earth gives no love that is like a mother's, That would bear our burden, and feel our pain ; She foldeth her care like a robe around us, And counts no loss which may prove our gain. O'er her cradled babe how she fondly bendeth ; No sun must dazzle, no breeze must blow ; And the love so early given, but endeth When her dear head lieth cold and low. Yet the years bring griefs which her hand can ease not, Which her gentle heart almost breaks to share ; Griefs that dim the eye with weeping, And across the brow write lines of care. Oh, gather it close to thy heart and wear it, For of all the blessings which, from above, God sends to lighten our earthly sorrows, No gift so sweet as a mother's love. Across my pathway the shadow leaneth, But light unfaltering doth o'er thee shine ; Thy father's faithful love hath blessed thee. Watched every hour that has yet been thine. Yet let me bear my burden meekly, Eemembering God is my father still, Who knoweth all the spirit's yearnings, And sorrows are angels that work His will. Thy girlhood's home around and o'er thee, And thy brow is bright 'neath the first-born's crown ; In all the years that may lie before thee, May no trouble sadden, no dark fate frown. Could I send thee a joy to bless each morrow Or my heart's fond prayer avail on high, . Then thy life should be free from sorrow, Thine eyes, from weeping, for ever dry. POEMS. 129 . i TREU END FE ST . " * A treacherous calm o'er Europe broods prophetic eyes can see The flash of steel ere swords are drawn, the battle ere it be ; The tramp of steeds, the clash of arms, the banners waving high, The cannon's roar, the sulphurous smoke, that rising veils the sky. And more : the slain in thousands heaped, who stood so brave and fair, To glut a tyrant's rage, for blood mowed down like harvest there ; Not- ours to dread, our monarch's foot stands on no despot's + throne, And fear, within a Briton's heart, a feeling all unknown. "*■ -***"" Long, long may yet Victoria reign, whom crowned our eyes have seen, With every virtue that could grace the woman and the Queen ; In sable robes and sadden'd brow, she mourns the love that threw Its beauty round her bridehood's hours, and fonder, deeper grew. As sped each swift year to its close, till one, the saddest, came, Which left her of that changeless trust — a memory and a name ; From the splendours of her royal state, in grief she turned aside, To weep for him who, in the pride of his bright manhood, died. The memory of her buried love, the bliss that hers had been, Dearer unto the gentle heart of Albert's widowed Queen ; Around her brow fame's fairest flowers in amaranth wreath shall twine ; Victoria, noblest, best beloved, of all her royal line. They live who say that England's might declineth with the years ; Who dare, in base, unmanly speech, to air their coward fears? Such direful chance might sure befall, as name and glory riven, If, to their lagging swords, their fainting hearts to win or lose were given. For fierce the conflict, wild the strife, and red the rivers flow With the heart's blood of her gallant sons, ere in the dust lay low • True and Faithful. 130 POEKS. The banner of old England's pride. Not hers to fear a foe ; Not hers to blench, not hers one inch of hallowed ground to yield ; Too oft as conqueror has she stood ou many a bloody field ; Too oft along her streaming decks have hero footsteps trod, While rang the war cry, loud and long, " For England and for God." Yet, yet, unmatched on land or sea, our race of steeds and men ; Yet, yet, our flag unchallenged waves, stand back, ye boasters, then! Upon the lion's armed sleep tread not too boldly nigh, For blinding bright, the stormy light, in his awakening eye. His claws, though sheathed, are keen and bright, his roar can reach the sky. And when he stands in kingly might, and shakes his mane on high, With tearless brow, bared to the light, he scorns to flinch or fly, And when he girds him for the fight, he dares to win or die. Nor end nor issue can he see, but "death or glorious victory." In one stern hour on his brow comes down a hero's shroud or a victor's crown ; And if in times that are not yet, should break the battle morn — The dawning of that day shall see not England named in scorn. Stern as the hour her sons would rise. Rallying the standard round, The stout of heart and strong of limb would stern-faced men be found, Booted in proud resistless strength, their feet on freedom's sward. No swords as theirs strike sternly deep, who have happy homes to guard. Whose little children fearless sport upon the daisied sod, Shall these 'neath a despot's sway be reared, — forbid it freedom's God; The blood that warmed their sires of old would mantling reach the brow ; Each hand a hero's sword would grasp ; honour's avengers now. The record of that deathl?ss day on history's page would shine, To unborn ages, witness proud, girt with a golden line, ; How men like lions fought and fell, how seas of blood were shed, •' God and the right," their cry of might, brave soldiers bravely led. rosws. 131 And of that time in tears were told, where mingling thousands trod, No Eastern sunsets reddest fires so lit the ensanguined sod ; And well 'twere so, or in the van, outraging nature's law, Seen of their race, and in their land what Saragossa saw. And if within one recreant heart its spark of patriot fire Burned not to fling the challenge back in blaze of righteous ire; Who felt his arm not match for ten, breathed not with conscious power, Or grudged his country life or limb in her imperill'd hour. Nor meet that o'er his craven brow the red-cross banner -wave ; His foot pollution on the soil his fathers bled to save ; Lei the fihst death shot find his heart, give him a traitor's f .^^lave. ******** Isle after isle along the deep hath won us bright renown ; Far India sliines the fairest gem that decks her monarch's crown. Long, long may peace smile o'er the land where tread the free and brave ; Let the fettered foot touch sliip or shore, a man, no more a slave ; A man by every royal light — by every human tie ; And in his Maker's image framed, albeit of ebony : Strike the foul fetters 110m his limbs, (iod matte tnem to be free ; And free they shall be on thy shores as waves that around thee foam ; Whose glorious name is fiest in fame — mine own loved Island Home. NOT LOST, BUT GONE BEFOKE. When hues are richly blending in the glory-lighted West, And the sky is like a bright blue wave, with haniing golden crest; While the kingly sun sinks brightly 'neath his canopy of gold. And fair and far the glory streams from every sweeping fold; While o'er the sombre forest, and pnrple moorland far, As swiftly drawn by hands unseen, the night's cloud curtains arc As the twilight shadows deepen, and the yet unlighted room Is peopled with the dreamy past, like pictures in the gloom ; What mocking visions rise, to bless, ere silently away They flit into the misty night as shadowy as they ; In the hushed and solemn stillness, with what fond and tender care, Is lifted from its sleeping place, that tress of shining hair. Oh ! once it crowned in laughing light a sinless bahy brow, But of the love so pure and sweet, but this and memory now ; The flickering firelight flashes that tear-bathed tress above, But where is He, whose tiniest wail would start the tear of love ; Oh naught but time the wound can heal, or bridge the chasm o'er, For woven in with daily life are memories of yore. And who shall tell the agony save only those who kneel, When prayer avails not for the loved, to watch the shadow steal ; The awful presence nearer glide, and from the suffering brow To wipe the beaded drops, and feel that love is useless now ; And when the last faint sigh is given, the freed soul outward flown, When life is but one stretch of pain, one long-continued moan ; When sense and spirit sink beneath the weight of anguished tears, And reason's sceptre loosely grasped, wakes friendship's ardent fears. We see with dim and aching sight, the casket, not the gem ; The brow so calm and holy, not the spirit's diadem ; Though dark and deep the stream of death, yet bright the wait- ing shore, And gentle are the angel hands, which bear the lost one o'er. Lent was the tiny volume, from God's library of love, In undimm'd purity recalled, and bound in gold above ; Where none but angel eyes may glance at page so purely fair, The while some heavenly cadence flows from golden harp strings there ; A chord of sweetest music snapped, ere ended was the strain, A tiny stream whose waters loved the blossom-shaded plain, Where many a bud of promise sprung, but scarce its sweets dis- played Ere death's cold frost the streamlet chilled the blossom lowly laid. Weep not the little nestling dove, so oft in rapture pressed, That found its sweetest, dearest home upon its mother's breast; His golden curls yet fairer gleam, his blue eyes brighter shine, A white-winged cherub sweetly zoned beside the throne divine ; POEMS. 133 The little loving lip o'er which a trembling quiver played. If the dear face by chance were grave that nightly o'er it prayed, But even as through parted clouds falls Luna's gentle beam, He smiled beneath the kiss of love that broke his troubled dream, Of memory's treasured tablets, this precious leaf most dear. No impious hand its page can blot, for bright and ever clear In golden letters purely writ, serenely, sweetly fair ; E'en Time's effacing hand must fail, for love has traced them there. " Oh kneel but where thy darling sleeps," like whispers from the sod Shall rise : "oh weep not for the blest — the early called of God." . A spirit murmur strangely sweet, for thee shall cleave the air ; And heard but by thy secret soul, though listening crowds were t -"-^there ; Weep not, for where bright waves of love roll on the golden shore, He waits to bless thy longing sight, " not lost but gone before." , » '• UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY Los Angeles This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. 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