BIRCH-ROD DAYS AND OTHER POEMS. WILLIAM C. JONES. CHICAGO: AMERICAN PUBLISHERS' ASSOCIATION. 1892. COPYRIGHT 1892. WILLIAM C. JONES. MARY MY PLAYMATE WHEN A CHILD; THE IDOL OF MY BOYHOOD WILD; THE DEAKEST WIFE OF MANHOOD DAYS- I WILL TO THEE INSCRIBE MY LAYS. THE WATER LILY. Rippling rills that run down to the sea, Are but tears which the winter has shed ; When the Flower- Angel melts them all free And her cold, chilly ice-chains have fled. If the stars be the flowers of the heaven! Then the flowers are the stars of the earth ; Which God in compassion has given To us priceless for beauty and worth. We garland the bride of the morrow With the fairest and loveliest bloom; We place them in wreaths in our sorrow When the coffin is laid in the tomb. A joy to the sad ones left weeping ; An emblem of the rich golden-dawn ; Of spring-time the Father is keeping In heaven where the loved ones have gone. "Take this," and most sacredly guard it, It is Truth's germ, I give to your clan; ii THE WATER LILY. From the Flower-Angel ever regard it A rare bulb that is priceless to man! A bloom 'twill in beauty glow ever, Kesplendent in the sunshine or rain , 'Twill free thee of vice from sin sever Truth I give thee to always maintain. A slave to base passions, and in crime, Man trod Truth prostrate under his feet; In the marshes, in filth, and in slime Her destruction and loss seemed complete. Winter drew near with her tears all chilled; Her storms raging on seas, and the lands ; Rains beat down and the marshes were filled, And ice-fettered by her cold, cold hands. And God smote man for his sin and lust ; And for his struggle for worldly power ; Not willing to love or Him to trust Until the final and fatal hour. A window in heaven is open thrown, And the Flower- Angel breathes upon earth; All nature smiles, and the valleys groan Teeming in beauty, and lovely birth. THE WATER LILY. iii The valleys rejoice; the rooks laugh loud; While the green-covered trees clap their hands ; The hills sing out ; and the mountains proud Echo the refrain over the lands. The waters wide now cover the place Of brutish man's sad and reckless ruth ; Where once he had trampled in disgrace The Flower -Angel's bulb, the germ of Truth. A maiden came there with her lover fair, And she launched her light boat on the deep; In sailing around espied what were Twelve spotless white flowers quite fast asleep. The maid bent low at the lovely scene, Then touching the fairest of the flowers, "Why not, fair sister, O water queen, Join us in this fairy-land of ours? " "Dearest maiden, I'm thy sistor Truth, Whom the Flower- Angel gave away Unto a man in his reckless youth, With whom I loved and I longed to stay. iv THE WATER LILY. "But he crushed me, and I bleeding died, And was buried in the marshes low, Where the Flower- Angel came and me espied, Then soon again I began to grow. "Luxuriant leaves of the richest green, And lovely white flowers, spotless and pure; Crown now my head as the water-queen, O'er the deep disgrace I couldn't endure. " And the maiden bent low her head once more: "Thy name shall be Lily," she softly said; " White Water-Lily Truth, I adore, Purest, and fairest, raise up thy head! " The Lily said, " There's not a stain, Though bitter my hours in life now past, 'Truth crushed co earth shall rise again,' Be true to herself until the last." The Lily shall be an emblem pure Of virtue, beauty, and lovely grace ; And woman's love will ever endure In the heart of man to hold first place. CONTENTS. PROEM : The Water Lily. A Charivari - 150 A Guest of the Club 132 Allie - 179 A Merciless Mind - - - 131 An Episode - 175 An Ill-Formed Alliance - - 219 An Ill-Sorted League 217 Autumn Leaves - - 101 Avarice 119 Best Look Before You Leap - 163 Better Than Gold - 77 Birch-Rod Days 17 Caution - - 153 Changes - - I 87 Christmas - - 215 Coins - 235 Crafty - 212 Cupid and Death Dame Fortune - ~ H7 Daunt Not the Spirit - 191 Deception Discontent - 155 Discretion Dissension - 205 Drones vs. Bees - " 115 CONTENTS. Fail Not - - - - 91 Flattery - . 161 Forgive, O That Religion - - - 193 Friendship's Disease - . -SI Help - 167 Hypocrisy . . - 173 Idle-whiles ... 79 Idly-Heeding - % . - 123 In Contempt - - - - 159 In Fancy Dreaming - . . - 71 Integrity - - - - 163 Keats 4? Labor has Its Reward - - - - 157 Life's Grapes - ... 224 Lingering at the Grave - - - 52 Little Lights . . . - 39 Little Physician - - - - 180 Love's Arrows - - an oy Luxury and Ease - . - 176 Madie Green - . . -102 Mine, Only Mine - ... 99 Mocking-bird and Jay - . . - 88 Molliter Manus Imposuit - - - 169 My Florida - . . . - 51 My Lady Fair - - - - - 207 My Loves - - - - - 233 My Mary - - - 185 Old Age - - - - - 72 Oppression - - - 231 Our Country Home - . . - 75 Our Faithful Servants - - - 125 CONTENTS. iii Polly, You Talk Too Much - 143 Recompense - 149 Rejected - - 90 Scotch Letter - 209 Sic Iter Ad Astra - - 64 Sleep and Hope - - 105 Spare the Rod and Spoil the Child - 129 Summer's Labor - - 203 Sunny Southern Home - - 97 Sweet Lady, I Love Thy Fair Face - % Temporal Power - - - 195 The Battle-Flag - 83 The Cross Ill-Natured Man - . . 60 The Dancing Kid - 127 The Disastrous Crossing - - 147 The Farmer's Soliloquy - - 173 The Felon's Dream - 94 The Felon's Soliloquy - 43 The Fireside 213 The Harvest of Death - 40 The Man of Dignity - 139 The Miser - 225 The Mocking-bird - 48 The Orator - 63 The Relation of Man to Nature - - 239 The Reward of Stealth - - 229 Tae Smile of Woman - 145 The Templar - 85 The Thrush - 121 The Train - 55 The Traitor Bird - - - - - 108 iv CONTENTS. The Tree and the Rose - 58 The Twilight Shades - 81 The Wabash - 111 The World is Cold and Dreary 109 Three Plagues - 189 To Mary: 194 To My Wife - 73 To PortiaJ 190 Transformation - - 137 Treacherous Friendship 233 True Might - 199 Union is Strength 123 Valor - 141 What Is Fame? C7 What Is Life? - - 183 What Is There Better Man Can Do? - 197 When Fortune Frowns - 45 Who May Serve Well? - 113 BIRCH-ROD DAYS AND. OTHER POEMS. BIRCH-ROD DAYS. Fond memory still recalls the day Of tyrannizing birch-rod sway, When sturdy teacher, of the old-time school, Did govern well with rod and rule. His unrelenting look, his solemn mien, May, in imagination, still be seen j And the truant, disobedient of his law, Recalls how quick he was to find some flaw ; Remembers youthful days the days of woe When oft was dealt the unforgiving blow Upon the back, oft minus coat and vest, Of hapless youth, for trifles, thus opprest. Who dared to look or feel a moment gay, it his coercion all that dav! 18 BTRCH-ROD DAYS Well calculated to suppress all noise, His laws inexorable were for boys. We would rebel, yet each rebellious time Were scored with the birch-rod, as for some crime. Forgive him ! Never ! My heart revolting swells With wicked thoughts, when back my memory dwells. Yet, I remember, when in days now past, We were all taught to spell, alike and fast j To syllable and pronounce were taught it well Taught from the spelling book learned how to spell j The class in reading, from books, were taught to read. The teacher had one purpose to succeed j And grammar, boys and girls were sparse Who could not give the well-known rules and parse; Each winter brought us to the rule of three, And we could cipher well for well could he; In writing the teacher would oft indite This couplet, in our home-made copy-books to write : " A man of words and not of deeds Is like a garden full of weeds." And well we wrote, and there was scarce a blot For praises from his grace quite oft were sought AND OTHER POEMS. 19 But never given, unless true worth was there Worth was not found, if it was, I'm not aware. Among them all, alone there is but one My memory loves to dwell upon; He spared the rod on me, a helpless wight, And made me love him, ruled me not by might j Judge was he then, as now supreme Best of them all, be he alone my theme : ACROSTIC. Just man ! A friend to my early days, All hail, for thee can I sing praise ! Clear was thy head in discrimination then [men ; Oft hast thou since shown it 'mong thy walks with Brilliant in speech, sweet voiced also j [show. When first I knew thee, thou did'st thy greatness When in my boyhood days, young, frank and free, In thy tuition I loved to be ; Led by thy teaching we first inclined Knowledge to obtain for the youthful mind. Infinite thy kind offices we name thee Noblest of men true as man can be. 20 BIRCH-ROD DAYS As the mind recalls those days, I am proud There is one enduring without a cloud To darken. Brilliant to-day bright was then - Best of dear teachers loveliest of men ; Who ruled and governed well one always may Kindly without dictatorial sway. My memory loves to dwell upon those days For even 'midst the clouds of mist and haze Life's brightest sunshine will appear When looking back o'er times we now revere. Ah, chilling time! we turn aside to glance And find thy fancied visions all romance ; Thy fondest hopes, thy brightest dreams,' Sad memories for life's after themes. We hear no more the gentle, child-like voice, Who long, long years ago was youthful choice Of one who bent with years, now silvered gray, Waits but for time to bear his cares away; Waits for the hour to come when life is o'er, When he shall join her on the other shore. AND OTHER POEMS. CLARA. I think me now of one sweet girl, That was the gem, 'mong many a maiden pearl, That grew in loveliness and grace Until we loved her time will ne'er efface The memory of her sparkling eyes Bright as the stars, that nightly jewel skies ; And the wavy tresses of her dark-brown hair Were soft and silken, as her face was fair ; Lithe was her form, each perfect part Chiseled as 'twere for the sculptor's art ; With voice full round, so soft and sweet, She spoke not word you would not wish repeat. But like the wild flowers we used to gather And bring to her from off the heather, She too has faded. Gone now to rest With Him who gave that angel spirit blest Unto the friends, who lingering stay To watch and weep o'er now her lifeless clay. Who is there that hath not stood by the grave Of some dear friend, and tried most brave 22 B1KCH-ROD DAYS To stop the silent tear that trickled down with sorrow All the fond hopes of the bright to-morrow? Who is there that does not now recall The sorrow of the funeral knell and pall ? Who is there here on earth who would not give His own sweet life, one dear to him might live ? Who is there who has not felt the sting and tear Of bitter anguish losing friends most dear? And yet 'mongst God's angel-forms and fairies, I'll find, I know, some day, loved Clara's ! THE SKATE. December's sun had risen bright and clear j Red cheeks and blue noses told winter was severe. But boys were happy, for the chill of night Brought to them visions of rare delight ! The creek was frozen o'er, its glistening ice Was to their minds a part of paradise ; And morning's task at home complete, Each buckled on his skates for winter's treat. Alas ! the glittering surface of the ice Did many a truant boy from school entice. AND OTHER POEMS. 23 The swiftest was a "deer," and soon the race, For forty lusty throats quick gave him chase ! The school bell rang, although its notes were clear, What cared we for it, while playing deer ? Away we went, each steady stroke But hours of distance on us broke ; And as the race more intense grew It seemed to each he fairly flew ! When, at last, we caught the long-chased deer, The air was rent with deafening cheer ! It was then boys circles cut, and eagles spread While some cut letters that were plainly read ! On ice we ran to see who could farthest jump Saw stars, in daylight, as our heads would thump ! Yes, mingled we in sports, then, o'er and o'er, Just as boys mingled in the days of yore. Then schoolward turned, each skater gay, Little did he list, the weal that he must pay. The homeward journey one always tires And passes little that he first admires; 'Tis true of life, we pass ambition's goal, Then pray to rest the weary mind and soul. 24 BIRCH-ROD DAYS Ah, noble youth, thy freaks are oft despised, When better judgment would them have prized ! Think you, my friend, that boyish vim Augurs not but usefulness to follow him ? Exultant youth, both bright and gay, Will ever live to bear life's prize away ? Reached we at last the school-house door, our faces bright, Forgetful of the hour, in our delight His angry looks, his sullen tones, Were worse than next day's aching bones His switches? I remember and Jive to tell How well he used them Aye, used them well ! THE HUTSON MASSACRE. In eighteen hundred and ten, a pioneer, Named Hutson, left for the wilderness, then here. His wife was with him, and six dear boys and girls ; One, a maiden of sixteen, had soft brown curls, And bright blue eyes, with cheeks so fair, They would with lilies well compare! The daughter was the idol of her father's heart AND OTHER POEMS, 25 And when the time had come they must depart For the unknown, and then far distant west, She was with all his plans imprest. Hardships were endured, and privations by the way But laughed at, in hopes of a better day. Then came they to a land in Nature's dress A plain and valley teeming in fruitfulness : Earth had not then, nor now, a lovelier spot, Than the grand old prairie of Lamotte! It was here Hutson built a homely dwelling-. A rude log cabin his stout heart welling With joy o'er the happiness it gave to him, To be thus safely housed in a cabin trim. Time went smoothly on until the season's close, When their harvest warned them of the savage foes ! Plundering, murdering, committing ravages, Around that cabin home were lurking savages, Who for the pale face had the most intense hate Yet none was more cruel than the Hutsons' fate : One evening, as the sun sank in the west, A mother sat watching, with babe at breast, The return of father who had gone to mill 26 BIRCH-ROD DAYS Miles of distance, across the plain and hill. Would that lovely sunset, as it westward fell, Could but their fate to them foretell ! Calmly she waits when yells of Indian devils Break now upon her death in carnage revels ! Her babe was into a boiling caldron thrown ; Mother and children tomahawked, save one lone Sweet girl ; who was their captive led To live a life of shame and dread ! Then to that cabin was placed a torch of tire, The lifeless hurled thereon ! While with demon's ire They watched the rolling flames and curling smoke, Till sighing embers, and faint glare, the end bespoke ! Hutson came home ! Though strong of frame Intensely haggard his face became ! "My wife! my children!" Then 'mid the agony of woe, The teardrops from their fountain ceased to flow ! The carnage was complete. Aye, well he knew The brutal nature of the scene in view ! Hutson, from all once near and dear, then turned. And while on horse, as heart within him burned, AND OTHER POEMS. *t Vowed eternal vengeance, o'er and o'er, Against the Indians evermore. Well did he keep that vow! Week after week, He with his trusty rifle did vengeance seek ; Until, at last, he too was known to fall At the head of troop, pierced by the Indian's ball ! And the old creek, where we boys used to skate, Was named Hutson, o'er his untimely fate; And on the Wabash banks, 'bove and 'neath the hill, Sits to his memory, the village Hutson ville. 'Tis said that we grow old ! That time's decay Will change our feelings day by day ; That man will change the purpose of his youth, And feel that all is fading even truth; That what is good lived only in the past The world's degenerating fast and fast. The lawyer lays aside his book, grown old, Which once such precious truths had told, And folds the door upon the musty shelf, And feels despondent with the world and self Then moralizes o'er his time and fate, 28 BIRCH-ROD DATS And blames the world, not his declining state; But youth, exultant, with eager look, Will gather up the shelf-worn book ; He will its pages anew read o'er, And glean fresh treasures from its store. He will, for the future each day plan And feel the world depends on coming man ; New cities shall grow up, the future great, Will rival all the past in Church and State ! 'Tis ever thus; the old shall weary be, While youth is buoyant, lithe and free ; And feels the world, with all its broad expanse Is made for him, his pleasures to enhance; And grapples with it, new treasures sure to find, That ever yield to his inquiring mind. One age declines, another takes its place, And progress ever marks our noble race. Aye, man ! no matter what thy sphere, Thy memory loves to wander back to things once dear; And dear to thee, which after years will trace, Are all the scenes of boyhood's time and place. AND OTHER POEMS. 29 Call back in memory, ye gray-haired sires, Call back to memory your youthful fires; Call back the laws you once transgressed, Call back the times you were repressed ; Go back unto the turning point of life, The sweet repressions of the future wife ; She, who was sweetheart of your youthful days, Reproving kindly wayward ways. THE SPELLING SCHOOL. How cheery was the old-time spelling school Given by the teacher in days of birch-rod rule. Do you not still remember with what delight We hailed the coming of that night ? The mud of winter, or the drizzling rain, Caused us no anxiety or pain ; For we would bundle well and go Be it through storm or winter's snow; Do you not still remember the rosy cheeks Which youth and health alone bespeaks? His glasses were adjusted, with stick in hand, He was determined all erect should stand ; 30 BIRCH-ROD DAYS Long lines were drawn up, like armies well arrayed For field of action, not for dress parade; And warm the contest, for there were those Who faced each other like deadly foes! And there were some who knew every word In Webster's speller for I have heard It said, 'twas only by some grave mistake That either side could honors take. 'Tis no fancied vision ! Ah, I remember well The merry times of the old-fashioned spell! The night though dark, the sidewalk then unknown, But other pleasures would these all atone ; For as we wandered home, her words so sweet, I would not dare in after life repeat ! But you remember, though now you're silvered gray, The words as well as 'twere but yesterday. And you might tell, though this perhaps you'd hate The kiss was stolen just at her father's gate ! These feats of skill by all were well enjoyed, Think you not still, 'twas time quite well employed ? O, boyhood's happy days ! We dream them o'er, Forgetful now the ills we had in store. AND OTHER POEMS. 31 As we go back unto our first_old home, To find none dearer 'neath earth's dome. We see again with enrapt delight The teachers in their power and might ; And learn obedience from their law That ever guides our after life in awe. Ah, yet those lessons first impressed in youth Are fall of thought if not prosaic truth. We find the boy a man, and watch his course, And hail delightedly his manhood's force ; Then trace his truant youth, his wayward ways, To find the man was made in birch-rod days. THE DEBATE. Can you call back the anguish of your look When first you part in the discussion took ? His august presence, as he sat in state, And eager watched your first debate ! Aye, Cushing's Manual, altho' 'twas new, Produced not consternation then to you ; But stammering, speechless, with your heart in. throat 33 BIRCH-ROD DAYS Forgetful the points you were quick to note ; The floor was sinking it would soon give 'way You could not then on feet one thought convey. Your effort was a failure but his word Was not reproof, and when from him you heard : "The Halls of Congress would some day resound With words from the speaker, intense, profound!" You felt at once this life to you renewed, As with new ideas you were imbued. Confidence in yourself when once you've gained Ever through life will be by you maintained. And from that moment in forensic art You eager were to take some active part ; Skilled in parliamentary law, you tried With due deliberation to preside. Your efforts then, if with success were crowned, Speak but the man, in after life renowned. Dear Hutson, my heart turns back to thee As scenes of boyhood days come back to me Back to the river's bank I trace My steps, with line, to the old fishing place. AND OTHER POEMS. 33 We angle with the world in after years, Trembling and cautious we battle it with fears, While in our youth we cast a baited hook With joyous glee into the babbling brook, Watching contentedly until the bite To land the bass and croppie with delight ; But busy man will scarce find time to know, Or wander back to scenes of long ago, Until old age creeps 'long with silent stealth When first he realizes that in life his wealth Is but contentment! Contented will I be When the hour shall come, old Time is done with me When the clouds grow dark, and the eye grows dim, And the Master's summon is to answer Him, If they'll take me back to thee, old place so dear, To rest 'side Him who gave my spirit here. O, fleeting years ! an unperceived decay Beckons us ever onward day by day. He will live best who lives the present seeing; A wiser man, a happier being. 31 BIRCH-ROD DAYS Expectant future is to us unknown; Lives happy he who calls each day his own. Tho' living present, we must ne'er forget Our days of yore, dear unto memory yet. THE EXHIBITION. All is expectancy! The nervous strain Is not much lessened by the six months' train. Aye, from the boy of six, for one his age "You'd scarce expect upon the stage." Unto the lad much older grown, Who realizes that the world's his own, And thinks before few years have passed him by To realize his expectations high. Who thunders forth his eloquence in tones Well calculated to melt the frigid zones; Bidding defiance to all laws of speech Save those the birch-rod master doth him teach. O glorious youth, expectant hope ! Well calculated with the art of speech to cope. AND OTHER POEMS. 35 The timid maiden with her voice so low, How sweet her speech, "The Beauteous Snow." And plays! Why, I remember to have seen Them where they crowned the fairest maiden queen. These recitations of our youthful days I find more winning than the modern plays. 'Twas good McDonald, he that played the part Of teacher in the terpsichorean art, That furnished music with his band of ten; Sweet players were they, all now cherished men. Aye, well they swayed the audience with delight We recollect the music of that night. Up rolls the curtain j bashfully steps forth An humble youth j time tells his after worth And ever as the bell doth tap anew Another comes greets well the audience too. "The Boy Stood on the Burning Deck '' while Mary Told well her story of the Lambkin fairie j While greater actors raised fine fierce disputes And seemingly about "Bombastes' boots!'' 36 BIRCH-ROD DAYS The " Hardshell Sermon " and " Survive or Perish!" " Webster's Reply to Hayne" I now cherish. Ah, think you o'er in after life the part You played that night in fine forensic art! And wonder you that time will not efface The memory of the birch-rod master's grace. Then step we to that other grander stage, The after years riper, maturer age. Look where we will, in life scan o'er and o'er, You see the actors of the days of yore. The lad who won, "The night we'd the spelling," Is sure to win in life. Where ? No telling ! And he who tries, is eager to debate, Kules certain after in affairs of state. Life's exhibition and the school's the samej The after years but tell of birch-rod fame. Then turn we aside, one pitying glance Tells that the after life is no romance But real. Well is he who struggling tries On earliest resources most relies. The envious world, vast and battling throng, AND OTHER POEMS. 37 Gives always way to him both well and strong. The world is ever full, but learn to know And dare its heights, look upward as you go. The steeps of Fame though proudly you ascend, It is through Toil that Fame her crown will lend. Dare you the mysteries of skillful art, Expect with work to take an active part Dare you gain success of any kind, be brave Success demands mankind almost a slave. No matter where, what part we take in life, We may expect a constant struggling strife j And only he who's best prepared, and strong, Will mingle in life well, and mingle long. Should fortune favor, frown not on the poor ; Go back, remember birch-rod days of yore. In giddy forum should you meet success, Remember strong the weak will oft oppress; If born to rule, deal lightly with the mass ; Help, help the brother of the humble class. These lessons all in former days were taught; And must they perish go for naught? Would he permit the strong oppress the weak, 38 BIRCH-ROD DAYS The high and mighty to deride the meek? Were not his switches ofttimes used to pay The tyrant youth who would oppress at play? Heed then the lessons of thy youthful age, In thy life's play upon the after stage j And learn to know, no matter what thy ways, Life's grandest lessons were in birch-rod days. AND OTHER POEMS. LITTLE LIGHTS. In the sky little lights we frequently see, Descending toward earth with a twinklesome glee ; Resplendent their course as through space they go dashing, Soon to be out 'tis the meteor's flashing. They remind of the lives of little ones given To us here on earth, from the kingdom of heaven; They bud and they blossom awhile 'round our home, Till the Heavenly Father bids them unto Him come. The pangs of the parting will be ever the same; And each sorrowing tear will burn as a flame, To brighten the pathway of the little lives given, In their journey from earth to the kingdom of heaven. 40 BIRCH-ROD DAYS THE HAKVEST OF DEATH. Ah ! harvest is ripe, and Death is around, Securing his victims no matter where found , And no greedier gatherer ever was known Of the seeds of destruction, his agents have sown. Not choice in his victims, not caring at all, He sweeps down the line and gathers them all. The young and the old, the rich and the poor, Death gathers alike and brings to his door. He touches all fall ; They come at his call ; And he is but waiting to gather them all. The sick and the weary, distressed and forlorn ; The gay and the merry, the proud'st e'er born ; The haughty and great, all lying in state, He conquered by the same inevitable fate. Nor wants he their lands, cares less for their gold: Death is no miser, tho' grasping his hold ; And his eye seem'd to twinkle while he cast with a laugh AND OTHER POEMS. 41 Their worldly possessions, like wind does the chaff. He touches they fall ; All come at his call ; And he is but waiting to gather them all. Men striving and toiling from the time of their birth, Depriving themselves of the luxuries of earth ; While neighbors, more lavish, build castles and revel On the sins of this world, not unlike the devil. Still others, ambitious for fame and renown, Work body and mind till well broken down. With hard striving statesman for temporal power, Death touches each one ere the realizing hour. He touches they fall; All come at his call ; And he is but waiting to gather them all. And I sigh'd as I thought how Death gathers them in ; 'Tis the penalty paid for man's primitive sin. Then be cheerful and happy, altho' you be nigh, Cross bravely Death's river when the time comes to die ; 42 BIRCH-ROD DAY For do not the merry, light-hearted and gay, Make more out of life as they pass on their way ? Then do not have fear of an impending fate Postpone never happiness until 'tis too late. For all come at his call; When Death touches, we fall. And he is but waiting to gather us all. AND OTHER POEMS. 43 THE FELON'S SOLILOQUY. Yes, I have killed him ! And in bending low, Rifling pockets, I saw his life's blood flow Then stood aghast ! For who can tell the sorrow Even a life-long criminal will borrow At sight of deed so cruel. Woe is me ! Outcast ! Outlaw ! Where'er on earth to flee ! Quick! Let me go! The very stillness of night Makes doubly dread even a felon's flight ! And blood-leeches will soon be on my track, Hounding, pursuing, soon to drag me back. Where shall I fly ? Is there no safety left To one of law's protection now bereft ? Flee where I may, the lightning tracks my path And justice scents my trail with pent-up wrath. Hark! Ere the gray of morning's dawn, I fear The sleuth-hounds will have trailed me and be near. Surrender ! Never ! I will fast retreat Back to the lonely swampe for life is sweet. "Throw up!" List! See! Now they surround me fast. I yield for in these times escape is past. For even one, who hath law offended oft 44 BIRCH-ROD DAYS Of God and man, and at man's nature scoffed ! But tracked and trailed, like a wild beast of prey, I, felon, bend before the law's dread sway! Oh, fate, thrice wretched ! Henceforth in this cell Kemorse is mine, so bitter none can tell! Behind the prison wall, a sin-cursed Cain, Fettered in irons, bound in prison chain ! Aye, never more to breathe a breath that's free In sorrow waiting for the gallows tree ! Ah ! We have felt the silent tear of time Steal down the careworn, hardened face of crime. Ah, crime! Foul crime! Thou hast indeed to grief Brought all thy followers, and thy course is brief ! Methinks at times, thy seed is bred in man, And curse the fate that brought us in thy van To dire destruction ! yet, we oft neglect Best feelings of our conscience, and reflect Not until the deed is done. Ill-fated born, Flee from the path of sin, ere you, forlorn, Fill some prison cell, or a felon's grave! Fear laws of God and man and thyself save Respect, as well as fear, for they alone Bring peace on earth and happiness our own. AND OTHER POEMS. 4P WHEN FORTUNE FROWNS. The world's a cold sympathizer, when once <iame fortune turns Her smiling face and frowns upon us. Poverty then burns! Cast then thyself upon its mercy, asking only bread, If friendless and alone, a stone you'll be given instead. Who cares for distress ? There are few who care to trouble o'er The needs of others. E'en waves will cast dis mantled ship ashore. The sorrow of an unfortunate one is but a drop In the broad ocean of this earth, that causes few to stop. Aye, busy, bustling humanity! Thou canst not stop to weep With sorrowing ones. But each day thou seek'st to steep 46 BIRCH-ROD DAYS Thyself in thine own pleasures, lusts, and pursuits for gain, Too eagerly to sympathize with one another's pain. Sorrowing, misguided, misdirected human kind! Ill-fated born ! Thou canst still retrieve adversity, still the world adorn ! Work ! work ! thou canst not find so sure a road to happiness Poverty will then banish, with its kindred care dis tress. " My father worketh and I work " graceful tribute given To work, by Him who labored once on earth now rules in Heaven. Let then thy life's pleasure be thy life's work, for it will tell In time's long race of years, if what thou doest, thou dost well. AND OTHER POEMS. 47 KEATS. A flower that blossomed only with the night! Rare and resplendent, 'twill in beauty glow, To dazzle and delight, and sweetness throw For out the darkness comes the glow of light. Genius ! Thou'rt a name ever to beam bright, And yet art coy and timid, till we know When one offends or proffers thee a blow, Thou shrink'st involuntarily from the sight. From this vale of darkness, with tale half told. Borne was Endymion ! Blessed now above With kindred spirits ever to repose ! High on the steep of fame his name enrolled, He sleeps Endymion's sleep ! A Father's love An angel sent him from this world of woes. , 48 BTRCH-ROD DAYS THE MOCKING-BIRD. A little gray bird flew in our oak tree, Caroling sweetly, O brother, come see! I wonder his name! I'll list to his song! I think I may tell as he warbles along! Jay, jay, jay. Ha, ha, hey ! Whoever heard, althJ note is quite true Jay, jay, jay ; Of a jay-bird in dress, and feathers .:ot blue ! Gay, dashing fellow ! How sprightly you sing ; Warbling the note of the blue-bird of Spring ; Aye! bounding aloft swift as an arrow Unless I mistake 'tis the song of the sparrow; Whip-poor-will, whip-poor-will; Oh, how shrill! Cruel bird ! I think you so silly Whip-poor-will, whip-poor-will ; Whoever knew of a bird whipping Willie ? Birdie, elated thy song I admire, 'Tis soft as the strains of the harp or the lyre, AND OTHER POEMS. 49 I wonder Ah ! what a beautiful note Is coming again from thy exquisite throat : Caw, caw, caw, La, la, la ! Indeed, little bird, do you not know Caw, caw, caw ; You cannot deceive me to call you a crow. Glorious song-bird, with voice like a lute ; Now piping away in tones of the flute ; O how I love thee ! Birdie so free, Exulting in thy song-mimicry; Mew, mew, mew, Ho, ho, you ! Never mind birdie, I will have none of that Mew, mew, mew j You think to delude me to call you a cat ! Like the red-bird you whistle coo like the dove; Of all the bird-songsters the daintiest love ; The shrill note of the hawk; chirp of the wren; Imitate all the birds in our glen ; 50 BIHTH-ROD DAYS Bob White, Bob White, Birdie, how bright ! You think, mimic bird, as other ways fail, Bob White, Bob White ; To get little Miss to call you a quail. My sweet, pretty bird, I'll no longer refrain, Wonderful fellow! A name you disdain ! Mock-bird, I'll call thee ! .Ruler of Song ! Happiest bird 'mongst all the gay throng ; Kildeer, kildeer, That note is queer ! Mocking-bird, talking-bird, with song melody - Kildeer, kildeer; Welcome, thrice welcome, our old oaken tree ! AND OTHER POEMS. 51 MY FLORIDA. I would love to go where the sun shines bright, When the wintry winds make cold the night; When earth is chilled by a shivering blast From the cheerless clouds, the skies o'ercast : When the leaves are gone, and the trees look bare With weeping branches from the sleet they wear; When the ice has covered the streams and rills, And grass lies hidden 'neath snow-clad hills. Where the birds have flown I would love to go, To a land of verdure where's no snow, To a land of springtime, birds and flowers, With babbling brooks and shady bowers. Where the fig trees bear and the oranges blow ; Lemons ripen and bananas grow ; All nature's blooming and the birds are gay 0, loveliest land My Florida ! 52 BIRCH-ROD DAY'S LINGERING AT THE GRAVE. There are those who lonely linger 'round the silent, green-turfed grave Of some dear beloved departed, whom the angels loving crave For the spirit world above us, pure and spotless as the snow, Where no sin can ever enter where there is no pain or woe. But the sorrowing tears they mingle with the life less dust of earth, And the silent prayers they utter, show us there is no dearth Of deep, sad and bitter sorrow for the loved ones far away, Gone to seek the bright to-morrow of our life's eternal day. They are weeping for belov'd ones, and they feel the pain and sting Of that last sad, tearful parting, whick death's chill will ever bring ; AND OTHER POEMS. 63 Yet still there is one solace. "Tis the promise that is given With them very soon they'll mingle in that kingdom we call Heaven. And although they love to linger, and still wish them with us here, And will sit and sigh, and sorrow at the grave, the pall, the bier They will smile with joy and gladness, for their spirit's only flown To a purer realm of brightness for God ever claims His own. And they love to watch sweet flowers, and the daisies in the spring Burst upon this world so brightly, 'round the lonely grave to cling j And the shadows of the flowers as they fleeting pass away, Tell the story of our being earthly things must soon decay. Yet the spirit ever lives, and seeks a world of joy and light, 54 BIRCH-ROD DAYS And the Father ev^r kindly gives us his effulgence bright, To show our earthly pathway, if we will follow in His lead. Death is but a precious solace if the living only heed. Let them linger, linger, linger, till the last sad tear has flown For the spirit-souls immortal, 'round our heavenly Father's throne Till the peeping stars of nightfall, in the distant heavens above, Softly shed their glimmering beauty o'er the objects of their love. Let them linger, linger, linger, till the aching heart throbs cease, And the weary mind shall slumber ever dreamily in peace It is not long until the hour when their spirit, too, shall rise, There again to meet with loved ones in that home beyond the skies. AND OTHER POEMS. 55 ' THE TRAIN. Hear the train ! It comes again. Travelers, hurrying to and fro, Wait impatiently to go On their journey, near or far, Snugly housed in palace car. Mile-posts past them quickly blend, Swift they reach their destined end. The homeward journey's safely made, The business man to place of trade. Flying train, Speed on thy way again ! Hear the train ! Thundering on again. Wonderful its rapid gait, Moving millions' worth of freight, Bearing on the golden grain, Reaped on fertile western plain ; 58 BlfeCH-ROD DAYS Carrying trade from distant shore, Earth's productions to our door ; Speed them on ; all nations bind, Showering blessings on mankind. Useful train, Speed on again ! Hear the train Dash on again ! Begrimed with coal the fireman stands; Grasping the reins with strong firm hands. The engineer, thro' rain and sleet, Bravely drives his engine neat. Ah ! in thy care, brave knights of train, The lives of countless souls remain. Noble thy task and fearless done, True hearts, no braver 'neath the sun. Speed, gallant train, Through storm and rain. AND OTHER POEMS. 67 Flashing train, Speed on again ! Greatest blessing giv'n to man, Civilization in thy van. Ah ! thy wheels we gladly hail, Carrying merchandize and mail. *Miles are multiplied each hour, Thro' thy wonder-working power And distance once a king so great, Like time, thou now dost subjugate. Glorious train, Speed on again ! 58 BJRCH-ROD DAYS THE TREE AND THE ROSE. One day boasting, An Oak-Tree said Unto a Brier-Rose, With low-bent head : "Barns and bridges Are built of me ; Towns and cities I'm a useful tree. "You a Brier-Rose, Are of little use To the busy world A mere excuse ! " " Sir," said Brier-Rose, ' ' Happy the hours, Seeing Fair-One Gather my flowers. AND OTHER POEMS. "Wreathes of roses, Buds on the stem, Lovely garlands I give to them." The giant tree The boasting Oak, Soon lay fell'd By woodman's stroke. But the little Kose Still grows'each year, Her fragrant flowers To the world so dear. So, isn't it best Quite oft to be A Brier-Rose Than a boasting-tree? 60 BIRCH-ROD DAYS THE CROSS, ILL-NATURED MAN. Roam, roain the wide world over, Search every corner well ; Go, go, my winsome rover, Search every nook and dell ; And then come back and tell me, In all thy wanderings 'round, Of all the vermin, reptile, Can any one be found That can compare for meanness With a cross, ill-natured man ? The rover smiled in meekness : No place where one can scan', In all my wanderings 'round, Can such a one be found. The spider stings with poison ; The scorpion unto death ; The flea doth tickle o'er our leg ; The ghost doth take our breath. AND OTHER POEMS. 61 But, Oh ! you cross, ill-natured man ; You snarling, snapping creature; You are the leader of the van, The meanest of all torture. You poise our finer feelings ; You pierce us like a dart; The day so warm and sunny You make it cold and dark : Should anyone seem funny It breaks your jealous heart. The pretty, prattling children, Into a corner shy ; Of chilling words, so 'fraid are they, Whenever thou art by. Your home is made so wretched That all do dread thy gaze; In everything thou art finding fault In many hundred ways. Thy favorite dog thou scoldest ; Thy wife and children too, 62 BIRCH-ROD DAYS And when they plead for mercy Thou scarest them from thy view ; And all are glad, when you are gone, To rid themselves of you. Ah ! well thou said'st, my rover, In all thy wanderings 'round, In searching this world over No one thing could be found That can give to us such torture, That can give to us such pain, As as this living creature A cross, ill-natured man. Now, should any of our readers Be ill-naturedly inclined, I trust they will immediately Do penance till they find The greatest blessing of this earth- Is a sweet contented mind. AND OTHER POEMS. 63 THE ORATOR. Sweet silver tongue ! 'Tis with delight We listen to thy power and might In tones deep, ringing, soft and clear ; When voicing justice and the right Thou'lt never fail man's heart to near. Aye, magic voice ! Refined, polite Deeds bold and daring thou canst incite: Or bring the eye at will to tear Sweet silver tongue. Art consummate ! Thy lofty flight, Will unto thee at all times plight All lovers of pure speech who hear : True eloquence at dazzling height Is ever to mankind most dear Sweet silver tongue. M BIRCH-ROD DAYS SIC ITER AD ASTRA. Would you attain to greatness, In any living sphere, And leave a never-dying name, You must always persevere. Let not the clouds of darkness Enshroud you in their gloom, But battle bravely onward, Battle to the tomb. Ah ! he who wins must labor, And this his watchword be : Work, labor, without ceasing, Sic iter ad astra. When sorrows hover o'er you, And life seems dark and drear, Press onward, these regardless, And always take good cheer : For no end was e'er accomplished By the desponding one. AND OTHER POEMS. 65 Remember, all's not darkness, The night gives way to morn ; For let the day be as it may, Our harvest time is always -gay. Press onward never ceasing, Sic iter ad astra. Would you a warrior be, With never-dying fame ; For thy heroic greatness Leave an everlasting name : You must go and battle bravely, Have never, never fear, And when the danger's greatest Bring all thy powers to bear. The battle may rage fiercely, The victory sure, if we Press onward without ceasing, Sic iter ad astra. 66 BIRCH-ROD DAiTS Yes, in the hour of conflict, When danger threatens most, And Death's dread missiles 'round you fall, Be firm still at th j post, For 'tis never the faint-hearted Who win in any strife ; But with will and courage true You will win throughout this life. Then let thy motto always be, Forever, ever say: On, on till victory, Sic iter ad astra. AND OTHER POEMS. WHAT IS FAME? And what is Fame? A dazzling name, Like a meteoric star ; A moment on And then 'tis gone, Away, away so far. Aye, who can tell, What work, and well, Will bring it in our grasp ? Like melting snow, 'Tis quick to go, Ere mortals can it clasp. Man's never still, But ever will Ambition his desire Seek for a name ; To court proud Fame, Alone he will aspire. 66 BIRCH-ROD DAYS Still, life's made bright, Like new-born light, That doth each morning shine ; And toiling man Will plan and plan In search for Fame divine ! AND OTHER POEMS. LOYE'S AKKOWS. Treacherous thy arrows, Love, Poisonous thy darts ; We place them in our quivers, Love, Forgetting broken hearts ; You bid us be in welcome, Love, We blindly, madly sing ; Hope's sweetest smile is with us, Love, Till thou thy arrows fling. You play, you fondle, with your prize, Led captive by thy love ; You tease, torment us, with thine eyes - Sweet starlights like above ! We thy caresses glad embrace, Not fearful of thy sting ; We yield to beauty and thy grace, Till thou thy arrows fling. 70 BIRCH-ROD DAYS Yet seek we for thy arrows, Love, And gather, o'er and o'er, Thy smarting, stinging, piercing darts, Forgetting those of yore. What would life be without them, Love ? We'll to them always cling ; Trust to thy graciousness, O Love, Till thou thy arrows fling. AND OTHER POEMS- 71 IN FANCY DREAMING. You may muse in fancy dreaming, But the Real will appear ; Bright the rainbow-colors seeming, Yet the clouds are always near. But altho' the storm-clouds gather, They will quickly pass away: And the gloomiest of life's weather Brings the most effulgent day. And 'tis folly to be losing Time that's given us by our God ; But be tireless, faithful using Till we lie beneath the sod. 'Tis a debt that you are owing To the Giver of your life, To be up and ever doing Ceaseless is the appointed strife ! Quit thy dreams! and go with feeling, Go with joy into the sea Of life's duties, ever dealing With a heart both light and free ! 72 BIKCH-ROD DAYS OLD AGE. Old Age, we thee abhor! Stay off! For we deplore The time which will us bring Unto thee an offering! Thy scythe ! An emblem bright ! Plainly we see as night Of age creeps unawares, Till thy grim visage stares ! Aye, still how true, and yet How many will forget Each moment, hour and day, Presses us on thy way ! Rudderless, like ship tost On Time's waves, all are lost; Death will our pathways sweep Mortal we only weep! Silvered by years, we bend, Infirm, at thy decree; Reach at our journey's end Unknown eternity. AND OTHEK POEMS. 73 TO MY WIFE. ON OUR TWENTY-FIEST ANNIVERSARY. Swiftly the years go by, 'Tis one and twenty now Since you, my wife, and I, Took each a lasting vow: Through life to journey without fear And be unto each other dear. Our spring of life is o'er ; Our summer's sun, once bright, Shines on us now no more ; But autumn brings delight : For we can reap the harvest's yield And garner from a fruitful field. Life's winter soon we'll near, But we will happy be ; For I shall have no fear, Since thou wilt be with me : And in the time of my decline My comfort is thou wilt be mine. BIRCH-BOD DAYS The sun effulgent gleams At dawning of the day; But more in beauty beams As evening fades away: And in the evening of our life Thou'lt be to me the dearest wife. AND OTHER POEMS. 75 OUR COUNTRY HOME. Fondly I prize my country home, And ever loved it dearly ; No other place, where'er I roam, Time passes half so cheerly ; The morning birds break forth in song And sing to me so early, With roses blooming summer long, Fed by the dew so pearly. The lilacs blossom by the gate, Birds twitter in their bowers ; While golden maples, old and great, Brush their purple-tinted flowers; Old's the orchard, with fruit and vine ; And the oak trees on our lawn, With swing, where happy children, mine, Make glad the morning's dawn. Here fragrant blooms the old pear tree ; Pure white's the plumwood's blossom ; 7 BIRCH-ROD DAYS Home ladened wings the honey-bee, Her treasures from earth's bosom. The mocking-bird with joyful notes, Gladdening the woodland's ring, With mimic song of warbling throats, Sweet harbingers of the spring. Happily here I spend my days, With wife and children dearie, Life's sunshine doth dispel the haze, And we're content and merry. 'Tis ever dear unto the heart, Its pleasures are not glary ; Yet health and strength it doth impart, Its joys we would not vary. AND OTHER POEMS. 77 BETTER THAN GOLD. Blessed children with hearts bold, What is better far than gold ? Health and strength, two things grand, Coming from His loving hand, Are of value more ten fold Better, better far than gold. Faith in God, and Charity, Are two branches of a tree, Of a Wisdom Tree from Heaven, Tree of Knowledge from God given ! Keep its teachings as you're told You'll be richer far than gold. Learn a little from this life, Man is mortal, 'tis a strife; And that strife should ever be Few are chosen, select are ye ! Work for God, with courage bold, 'Twill be better far than gold. 78 BIRCH-ROD DAYS Earthly riches, worldly wealth, Which may leave us as by stealth ; Grandeur, glory, pomp of power ; Fancied visions of the hour, Are in life a fleeting show, And quite valueless we know. AND OTHER POEMS. 79 IDLE-WHILES. See the idle moments fly, Who can save them, you and I? We can use them, too, with grace, We can mould them into place ; Change them into sunny smiles Idle moments idle-whiles ! Hear the moments as they fly ! Catch them ! as they pass you by: You can make them serve you well, Better far than I can tell ! Never let one you beguile Idle moment idle-while I Feel the moments as they go, Quickly passing never slow! They can make you happy hours By their wonder-working powers! Can you lose and reconcile Idle moment idle-while? 80 BIRCH-ROD DAYS Whiling moments as they flee; Whiling time agreeably ; Whiling time in reverie! Who will ever us revile, May I ask you, with a smile, Should we lose one after while ? AND OTHER POEMS. 81 THE TWILIGHT SHADES. The twilight shades of night appear, As I sit silent, lonely here, Watching the rifting clouds on high Swiftly passing each other by. The fitful stars shine out so bright, As nature dons her robes of night-, 'Tis time for weary eyes to close In sleep kind Nature's sweet repose. The low, sad chirp of insect wail, Alone doth cheerless hours regale, Save ripplings from yon babbling brook, That greet me in this quiet nook. All Nature's still ! The weary borne To peaceful rest from caves till morn; And hushed in the stillness of the night Are all the busy sounds of light. I fancied in yon peeping star A home for beings, tho' afar, Who now are free from sin and vice And dwell with God in paradise. 82 [BIRCH-ROD DAYS I saw in vision's viewless space, Spirit forms of a blissful race, Who trod of yore the unseen way That leads to life's eternal day. Eternity! O endless years ! Shall mortal fear thee ! Banish fears ! Put trust in Him who gave to thee A soul to save for eternity. Along time rolls ! It waits for none ! It claims alike the old, the young; Earth's but a season to begin To save the soul once lost in sin. And as I dreamed, 'way sped the night } With flickering moon and starry light: Emblem of death ! when 'neath the sod We wait the coming of our God. So, as the night gives way to morn, We'll to undying life be born ; The dawn of lovely morning bright Is emblem of the world of light, AND OTHER POEMS. 83 THE BATTLE-FLAG. Battle-flag, glittering in sunlight and gold, On each starry crest of thy swelling fold The name of an hundred battles told. Recall the glories, O comrade, when It wav'd on the field o'er a thousand men, While we marched to the field of battle ; then This flag of ours was new. With its silvery stars, on a field of blue, And bright, broad stripes commingling, too. Omen of victory! to us unfold Scenes of thy carnage as yet untold Deeds of thy warfare, brave and bold. Read and rehearse with blinding tears The valor and courage of volunteers Gather the trophies for coming years Who gave their li^3s in the cause of right And march'd to the front in gallant fight, Led by our flag of red, blue and white. 84 BIRCH-ROD DAYS Hail ! noble flag, with thy battle scars ! Glorious blending of immortal stars! Grand old souvenir of our wars ! Oft hast thou gladden'd the soldier's life On struggling fields when battles rife, Rainbowing the clouds of deadly strife. And now that the storm of war has fled, Bespangl'd banner of blue, white and red, May thy mem'ry ever bright luster shed. i AND OTHEK POEMS. 85 THE TEMPLAR. Gaily bedight, the gallant Knight Comes charging o'er the mead ; His shining lance doth me entrance, As well his dashing steed. O Knight of old, on charger bold, Thou'lt never suffer loss, All know thy fame, and prize thy name, You wear the Sacred Cross ! In the cause of Right thou wast a Knight Child of humility And battled brave, God's land to save, With great ability. Fervent thy zeal, for Christian weal Thou hast been battling long ; And holy sod, by the will of God, YouVe rescued from the wrong! Take up thy shield, and thy sword wield In honor of the just ; Religion's view, the Christian's too, Is now thy sacred trust; 86 BIRCH-ROD DAYS The orphan's name, the maiden's fame, The lonely widow's part, To thy defense, thence bravely hence, Go ! Valorous thou art ! O brothers all, come at his call ; Around the sacred throne, Let us invite each gallant Knight, * To sacrifice his own ; For the Lord above, who will us love, As we fall in His line ; The Great we praise, will all us raise We conquer in this Sign! Gaily bedight, O gallant Knight, Charging o'er the mead ; Thy shining lance doth still entrance, As well thy dashing steed ! And Knight of old, on charger bold, Thou'lt never suffer loss, The God above will ever love, Who wears His Sacred Cross ! AND OTHER POEMS. 87 FRIENDSHIP'S DISEASE. A disease to friendship quite fatal, No matter how strong the tie be, Is little dislikes; gradual decay; Slight causes very trifling to see. The angry in time we may reconcile ; The injured we can compensate : Those who refuse all desire to be pleased, Friendship will never rejuvenate. Like frosts of the Autumn that wither the rose, Scatter its leaves, the branches make bare ; The chill of distrust which silently grows, Friendships of life will ever impair. BIRCH-ROD DAYS MOCKING-BIRD AND JAY. One summer's day A saucy jay Said to a mocking-bird : "In handsome blue, I'm gayer than you, Greatly to be preferred! "I've a royal crest, And fine blue vest, Feathers of richest hue ! I daily spat, And social chat, Gaily with neighbors too!" Your royal crest, And fine blue vest, Feathers of richest hue! Are very fine, Much more than mine, I grant that all to you! AWD OTHER POEMS. 89 " But, coxcomb bold, Loquacious scold Given to aspersion ! There's scarce a bird, 'Mong all I've heard, Hath not for thee aversion. "Aye, bird so gay, Let me this say, Known I am by my song ; Where'er I fly Welcome am I Not so your finical throng." 90 BIRCH-ROD DAYS REJECTED. There is no word that one can find That gives more anguish to the mind, Though each word be inspected, As this one, cruelest of its kind Rejected. To man who earns his daily bread, Each day doth labor without dread, Life's hardships hath suspected ; Could more remorseless word be said Rejected ! For are not all men here below, Entitled to some little show In life to be protected ? How cruel then must be the blow Rejected ! Inhuman word ! Where'er thou art, You wound the aching, sobbing heart, Who with life's cares dejected Doth sorrow underneath thy smart Rejected ! AND OTHER POEMS. 91 FAIL NOT. Fail not, my Child, whose pathway's sown With fortune's smiles and flowers, To help the poor less-favored one Beguile the weary hours. And fail not, Man, throughout this life, To do what good you can ; The struggle's long, and fierce the strife, Help then thy fellow-man ! Mother, fail not thy child to raise, Who will this world control, To sing of Him in songs of praise The giver of his soul. Father, thy son fail not to teach When first young life buds forth; Life's highest stations he may reach, Success the effort's worth. Ah, some may search but fail to find The ladder-rounds of fame ; But none need fail to leave behind A pure and spotless name. 92 BIRCH-HOD DAYS CUPID AND DEATH. Cupid, the God of Youth and Love, Weary of play and faint with heat, Wandering down into Death's Grove, Into his grotto beat retreat. Beautiful darts as ever graced, Sent from the angel world above, Cupid had in his quiver placed Piercing arrows of Youth, and Love. Down on the floor, in careless haste, Cupid thought there to rest him well ; The lovely arrows therein placed Soon from their shining quiver fell j And scattered o'er his cave, pell-mell, Death had arrows of exquisite make : Cupid, waking, could never tell His own from Death's, or which to take. Death's darts with Love, and Love's with Death, Were now mingled in luckless ruth ; AND OTHER POEMS. 93 Tho' sweet sometimes, the poisonous breath Of old grim Death isn't good for Youth ! And since that day Love has been blind Seemingly, to every fate j A.nd Love is now to Death resigned, Often choosing him for a mate. And Death has kissed Love's young and old, No matter how timid or shy : Death since with Youth is very bold, And never passes Love by. 94 BIRCH-ROD DAYS THE FELON'S DREAM. Slumbering I lay in prison cot, In peaceful dreams, all woes forgot. Repose ! How sweet ! 'Twas scarcely marred By heavy tramp of prison guard. Back to my home in dreams I went; Back to that place I childhood spent; Mingling there in merriest glee Again with those quite dear to me. I clasped in fond embrace once more A mother's form ! Heard her implore In bitter anguish, God to spare A truant son an only care ! Friendly faces were gathered around, Welcoming home a lost one found ; I had resolved to quit my sin I felt a change of heart within ! AND OTHER POEMS. 95 It was a dream and when I 'woke The walls of prison on me broke; I felt to dry a felon's face Saddest, dreariest of his race ! I said : "This cruel fate seems hard!" 'Twas only mocked by tramp of guard. Gruel's the pang ! Deep is the sting ! A lonely cell to felons bring ! Deal not harshly! Speak not ill! Fate was 'gainst him 'gainst him still j Who sleeps behind this prison wall : There's none so strong but what may fall. 96 BIRCH-EOD DAYS SWEET LADY, I LOVE THY FAIR FACE. Sweet lady, I love thy fair face, And wish, oh wish, that it were mine ; For beauty, form, and lovely grace Is now, and ever will be thine ! The night with lowering clouds and dark Has beauteous flashings in the sky j But e'en the brilliant lightning's spark Will not match the luster of thine eye! And yet, sweet lady, kind and true, Why I adore thy face, I seek the rose in morning's dew, Alone pure innocence to trace. God has implanted in our breast A love for all that's pure ; Life's pleasures man may go in quest Alone doth woman lure. AND OTHER POEMS. 97 THE SUNNY SOUTHERN HOME. I ever love to see The sweet magnolia tree Dance its leaves in the breezes of the morn Where the sun will ever glow, And gentle zephyrs blow O'er the fields of cotton and the corn. 'Tis nature's sweet retreat, Where lovers gladsome meet ; Daisies in the springtime there first come ; And the ever-blooming rose Is free from wintry snows, In the dear old sunny southern home. You wander where you will, Its memory ever still Will cling to your heart as you roam For birds are ever gay In sweetly singing lay, In the dear old sunny southern home. 98 BIRCH-ROD DAYS And the true hearts we there find Will ever us remind, There is on earth no other dome, So dear to every heart, Compelled from there to part, As the dear old sunny southern home. AND OTHER POEMS. 99 MINE, ONLY MINE. Wilt thoti not be my dearest, As we journey down life's stream j And be to me the nearest, My fondest hope and dream? Oh, tell me that you love me, And be forever mine ; By the Heavens above thee, I pledge my heart to thine ! By the evening shadows, When the sun sinks in the west ; By the bloom of meadows, I will vow to love tbee best ! Ever will I adore thee, True love it is divine; Oh, list while I implore thee, Be mine, only mine! Let others love the morning, With the sun and beauty's light ; 100 BIRCH-ROD DAYS The smile now thee adorning Is to me a sweeter sight. Oh, love is like a flower Plucked from the stem, it dies, While in its sylvan bower On earth naught more we prize. AND OTHER POEMS. 101 AUTUMN LEAVES. See the Autumn leaves go flying, Flying with the swift-winged breeze ; And the winter winds are sighing, Sighing to the leafless trees ! Hear them as they gently rustle ; Watch them chase each other 'round : They are ever in a bustle Dancing o'er the green-turfed ground. See them in the air go sailing, As the whirlwind sucks them on : Hear them rattle, like 't were hailing, Battle, rattle on the lawn ! Helpless are the little leaflets ; To be carried soon away Far adown the swirling streamlets; There to perish and decay. True in life all things must perish ; Ever bright the morning's dawn ; Still, life's fondest hopes we cherish Decay like leaves upon the lawn. 102 BIRCH-ROD DAYS MADIE GKEEN. In the twilight of an evening, In the dear old month of June, When the air was filled with fragrance When the roses were in bloom ; I met by chance a maiden, Fair, fair as ever was seen, And I loved her from that moment Pretty, pretty Madie Green. Never was a lovelier lady, None fairer have I seen Than my little dark-eyed Madie Pretty, pretty Madie Green. True, there is in life's oasis, One sweet solace given man 'Tis a pure and spotless woman, She who all our sorrows can Make light as gentle zephyrs As they whisper to the trees, When the leaflets softly rustle, Fanned by the summer's gentle breeze. AND OTHER POEMS. 103 Never was a lovelier lady, None fairer have I seen Than my little dark-eyed Madie Pretty, pretty Madie Green. The rose, our fairest flower, Where the bee will ever come, Gathering sweetness every hour, To bear unto its home Will not equal pretty Madie, Tho' it be of loveliest hue, And we gather flower and leaflet Bathed in morning's early dew. Never was a lovelier lady, None fairer have I seen Than my little dark-eyed Madie Pretty, pretty Madie Green. While now I sit in silence, O'er other days I con, I remember still, with sadness, That summer's day now gone; 104 BIKCH-ROD DAYS 1 remember her dark tresses ; Her bright and lustrous eyes ; But her loving, dear caresses, Most of all I highly prize. Never was a lovelier lady, None fairer have I seen, Than my little dark-eyed Madie Pretty, pretty Madie Green. Still the clouds will gather o'er me, As I murmur this my song ; And I pray thee, Lord, restore me To the girl I've loved so long ; And when this life is ended, And I'm borne away to rest, May my spirit there be blended With the one I loved the best. Never was a lovelier lady, None fairer have I seen, Than my little dark-eyed Madie - Pretty, pretty Madie Green. AND OTHER POEMS. 105 SLEEP AND HOPE. When the world is dark, and all is drear, And there is naught to cheer us here; When friends prove false, and fickle, too, And the things we love are dimmed to view; Sweet comforter, let my weary head Be couched upon thy pillowy bed ; Then waft me in ethereal dreams, And take me 'way from earthly themes; While angel-images hover 'round, O peace, be mine, in sleep so sound ! Take, take me from this world afar, And thou sweet Sleep, as guiding-star, Wilt thou not find some place above. Where all is hope, where all is love? Where all is gladness, all is joy, And cares of life no more annoy? Where man to brother can be just? Where all are honest all can trust? Where cheat and strife can harm no more ; And war's dread conflicts all are o'er? 106 BIRCH-HOD DAYS Where fear our vision ne'er can fright, And is dispelled, like day doth night ; All life's imagined ills are gone, Unlike the sun, no more to dawn! Where malice with resentless eye, Thirsts not to make more misery; And misanthropy is not found, To mar our joys the season 'round, Making us miserable without hope, As vainly on with life we cope? Where is no sadness, that doth rend The heart full sore with tears, and blend It with despondency and despair, To make earth's beings wretched as they are? Where jealousy, which we oft endure, That rather would the sun obscure, Than see another enjoy its light Emulous of all who seek the right Is gone forever sin-cursed mien, Whenever hated, wherever seen ? AND OTHER POEMS. 107 Where scorn and envy both must toil Green monsters of earth's sinful soil Till their necks goad blue with disdain ? Another's pleasure is to them pain. Where pride, disdainful, cold and chill, Becomes subservient to our will ; And contempt, bitter, which doth deride, Is humbled like its neighbor, pride ? Where, changed to mercy, all may feel The bitter pangs they used to deal? A heavenly thing, O Sleep, to dream, And let the troubled spirit gleam And beam in brightness! Shine afar Since Hope is now our guiding-star ! Pandora, careless of man's want, Let from her jar life's ills, to haunt Our visions, pleasures, passions, joys, With fears, adversities, griefs, annoys, That follow, as through life we grope The lid was closed alone on Hope! 108 BIRCH-ROD DAYS THE TRAITOR BIRD. "Let me go, good Master Falconer," A little Quail once said ; Who being caught within a net, Thought thus to save its head. "I will decoy some other quails, At least a dozen more, And get them safely in your net, If you will ope' your door." "No," cried the man, "I'll not let out, Whate'er I might have done, The treacherous bird within my net ; The traitor shall not run ! There is no death too hard for him Who will a friend betray ; And I'll not spare you, traitor bird, To live another day !" AND OTHER POEMS. 109 THE WORLD IS COLD, SO DREARY. The world is cold, so dreary, Few warm hearts do we find ; Life's path to me is weary, And troubled is my mind. Oh, I'm so sad to-day, Mary, Clouds hover o'er and o'er; I think alone of thee, Mary, Alone thee 1 adore. I wieb sometimes myself, Mary, In the cold, damp grave, at rest ; Where sleeps the dead in peace, Mary, Calm and Heavenly blest. Where no taunts and jeers are heard, Mary, Where no foe can ever blame ; Where rich and poor are clothed, Mary, In nature's garb the same. I sometimes think and fear, Mary, There's no better world than this ; 110 BIRCH-KOD DAYS That man who is sin-cursed, Mary, Can e'er hope to reach bliss! But we know the Savior's promised If we hearken to his call, He will bid us welcome, enter, There's room 'above for all. AND OTHER POEMS. Ill THE WABASH. Beautiful river by Hutson, With thy silvery sheet of blue; Ever sluggishly moving onward Like a panoramic view. While now I trace thy meandering course From the old Town down to the bend, A feeling of sadness comes o'er me As the journey onward I wend: To think of the scenes of my childhood, Of the ones who used to stray Along with me down the river's banks, Where now I stroll to-day To watch for the landmarks of boyhood, And find that the river's surge Swept them away like the friends of youth, The winds sigh only the dirge. 112 BIRCH-ROD DAYS Once gaily adown thee, old river, In his birchen bark canoe, Floated the Indian warrior, With his maiden of dusky hue. Upon thy banks were his councils, Around brightly glowing fires ; The mossy mounds near the river's brink The graves of ancestral sires. The warrior has gone from thy forests, And his race is almost run ; Driven by the white men westward With the course of the setting sun. But thy grand old oaks and thy elms, That were once his shelter and pride, Still nod to the rippling waters As they grow by the river's side. Flow on, O beautiful river ! Flow gently on to the sea ; I'll watch thy waters a little while Then the Master will summon me. AND OTHER POEMS. 113 WHO MAY SEKVE WELL. A lion was intent on sleep, When o'er his limbs a Mouse would creep ; Angered, he caught it with a sweep, And chiding, said ; "Tis useless, Mouse, in tears to weep, Til strike you dead !" Piteously, with tearful eye, The mouse then made this sad reply: "Oh, master! Do not let me die! I can repay The life you spare, even I, The act some day !" Despicably small he thought him j so, Laughing, the lion let him go; Saying, "Mouse, I'll spare you, though If with my paw I'd strike you just a little blow, I'd crush your jaw !" 114 BIRCH-ROD DAYS Shortly after, it chanced one day, The lion was pursuing prey. Some hunters who had come that way Set nets they brought.. The lion, bounding lithe and gay, Was in them caught. The lion, fast, set up a roar. Hearing, the mouse ran nimbly o'er, And meshes binding limbs, now sore, Began to gnaw; From off the lion quickly tore With little jaw. Thankful, the lion, now more wise, Said, ' ' Little things we oft despise, In after life we highly prize ; For none can tell, Simply in judging by the size, Who may serve well !" AND OTHER POEMS. 115 DRONES vs. BEES. Once in a Nisi Prius court, Judge Wasp called up a case, A suit about some honey-comb, Among the insect race. The action was replevin, Some drones sued out the writ, Claiming both honey and the comb, Which the bees could not admit ; But pleaded property in themselvss, And property in their queen j Non cepit, non detinuit, too, On property had a lien. Each party then a jury waived, The issues being closed ; To try the case before the judge, Both Darties then proposed. Judge Wasp then said: "You are alike, In color, shape and size- I'll test the case by evidence, lu manner seeming wise. 116 B1RCH-KOD DAYS I'll give unto you each a hive. To make new comb and cell ; When filled, the honey I will taste Go quick and do it well !'' The bees assented to the plan, And comb began to make : The drones kept idle, to a man, To work they would not take. "'Tis plain to see, unto the bee The honey does belong, I'll adjudge the case, upon its face, Unto the working throng. * ' For he who can not make the comb, The honey should not claim; On every issue, bees have won ;" Judge Wasp then gave them same. 'Tis thus the idle always lose, They're worthless, to a man ; If to succeed in life you choose, To work's the only plan. AND OTHER POEMS- 117 DAME FOKTUNE. O'ercome with fatigue from journey long, A young man, weary and tired, fell Quite fast asleep, on the very brink Of a deep and dangerous well. Dame Fortune, seeing the danger, said : "Wake up, wake up, wake up, my man!" And rousing him from his slumber, then Said, chiding, "Sir, all of your clan Blame me quite often for troubles, when The folly is simply with you men !" " You see, the censure is thrown upon me By all of the human kind ; When in truth, I know and always see The most of them go it blind ! Great calamities which them befall, Is folly they bring of their own; Irnputable to me ? Not at all, I wish I could make it known All more or less masters are of fate, Must think for themselves, not on me wait !" 118 BIRCH-ROt) DAYS Dame Fortune then went tripping away, Singing sweetly this merry song : " Men mortal, I cannot with you stay, Yet I'll frequently join your throng : Tho' I'm fickle as fickle can be, Try me ever to court and wed, By the use of sense and industry, My favors around you I'll shed: For those who court fortune, well should know The idle and vicious have no show." AND OTHER POEMS. 118 AYAKICE. The world is full of men who try in vain, Without much effort riches to obtain j Who risk in folly the little they possess, And bring themselves to penury and distress. Never content with what the Lord doth give, They'd rather starve, than not in affluence live. Avarice will get us into trouble, When we're too anxious wealth to double j Into wealth's door we sometimes gain ingress To find we've lost the little we possess : Becoming greedy beyond all measure, We lose our all seeking more treasure. A certain man, I read in fable old, Possessed a goose, that laid an egg of gold Each day an income stated, all his days The best of incomes one that certain pays But dissatisfied with this fortune slow, He killed the goose, her treasures all to know. 120 BIRCH-ROD DAYS Within he thought a wealth of gold to see, But found her the same as any goose would be; The man so miserly was quick to rue it, Forsooth he lost a fortune through it. Risk not thy all, lest it may go by stealth In vainly trying to amass great wealth. AND OTHER POEMS. 131 THE THRUSH. Sweet messenger of morning, I love well Thy piping notes of fitful, fervent glee! Swinging aloft on topmost limb of tree ; Soft as flute tones thy bird-song on me fell Then like the tinkling of a distant bell Thy sweet notes die, and echoes come to me, Soothing the morning dreams delightfully, As rose the sun the dawn of day to tell. Sing, warbler, sing! To stay is thy delight In shaded dells where runs the babbling brook, O'erhung with alder bush ; where 'tis thy right To hide thy nest in wild-vined laurel nook; Each lovely morn of spring, O bird so bright, I will for thee listen: for thee I'll look. 123 BIRCH-ROD DAYS UNION IS STRENGTH. A family of sons a father had Who perpetually treated each other bad; And no exhortations would take from their sire, But constantly gave some vent to their ire. Determined to illustrate the ills of dissension, To a bundle of sticks he called their attention, Then, giving the bundle to each in succession "Break it!" he cried. They made no impression. Then out of the bundle, each a single stick took. "Break it! " he cried. The stick easily broke. Then he addressed them: "My sons, if you are United in mind, and never at war, Like a bundle of sticks, well bound together, Success of the one means success of the other." AND OTHER POEMS. 123 IDLY-HEEDING. 4 'Leave off crying, this instant, or I'll throw You out at the window, to the "Wolf below !" " What! I recognize the voice of the nurse- As I am hungry I might fare worse ; What would be more excellent than a fine fat child," And the greedy Wolf looked up and smiled: Thinking the nurse as good as her word, To wait for the child, the Wolf preferred For the hungry Wolf had searched all that day In vain for food till he came that way : And he waited there till the day was done, And darkness came with the setting sun. As the twilight shades stole into the house, The lovely child was still as a mouse ; Save singing its lullaby sweet as a lark Going to sleep with the evening dark : Fondling her child the nurse said in a low breath : "If the Wolf comes now, I'll beat him to death!" 124 BIRCH-ROD DAYS But the words were caught on the dewy air By the Wolf, who heard them with despair ; Disappointed and hungry he turned to go, Muttering these words in accents low : " This comes by heeding those who ofttimes say Things they never intend, day after day !" AND OTHEU POEMS. 125 OUR FAITHFUL SERVANTS. A hound, now old, but one that for his master long had toiled One who in his earlier days by game was never foiled Worn out by weight of years, by toil, by trouble and decay, Went with his master hunting the wild boar, joined in the race And mingled in the sports of other days, the much- loved chase! He boldly seized the boar, and fanged it in the ear, When strength gave way, the boar escaped, caused by declining year: Quick to him came the master, and angry said : "I'll thrash thee!" The feeble dog replied : ' ' Master, 'twas but my strength that failed me, Not my will. Spare thy old servant ! Remember me of yore ! 128 BIRCH-ROD DAYS Think of me as I was then, abuse not now, take pity, I implore! " Oh, Master! many are the days for thee I've toiled when Thou in poverty was struggling helpless as I was then ! " And faithful servants who have proven their merit many ways All should remember well, and help in their declin ing days ! AND OTHER POEMS. 127 - ' i J i THE DANCING KID. . Did you ever hear of the Dancing Kid That strayed from the herd when its mother forbid? Well, it left the fold on a summer's day And determined to go away, away: Away from its home in quest of fun, For it was never content with the herd to run. But there is many a pitfall many a snare To the young in life who are unaware; Though brave and honest the girl or boy, Life's full of vices that will destroy: And the Dancing Kid was soon pursued By a great old Wolf, which him subdued. So there is many a victim allured by sin, Deeming life but short, joins the hideous din And for a passing pleasure a fleeting show Risks endless misery eternal woe. The Dancing Kid, deeming life but short, Asked the Wolf's indulgence in a merry sport. lio P.IRCH-ROD DAVS "If you pipe I'll dance," said the Dancing Kid; And the Wolf piped loud as he was bid; His great jaws swelling as he blew entranced, While the Dancing Kid, danced and danced : As each sweet vibration rolled away The Wolf did loud and louder play. But the music was heard by Dogs hard by The Wolf growled these words, as he turned to fly: "Who steps out of his way to play fool, is not wise. And must never wonder if he loses the prize : Like children who do what mothers forbid," A narrow escape had the Dancing Kid. AND OTHER POEMS. 129 SPARE THE ROD AND SPOIL THE CHILD. I can see King Solomon, seated upon Israel's throne, Rich in lands, and gold, and jewels, with every thing his own That mortal man could ask or wish, that was upon the earth, That surely would be calculated to give the king great mirth j But wonder you, King Solomon, with his humanity, Should exclaim, u Alas! alas! Vanity ! Allis vanity!" Seven hundred wives had Solomon, of princely high degree, I doubt if Mormon elder had more merry wives than he ! [the king, But his children acted dreadfully, and worried sore To whip them well all 'round each day he thought the proper thing "Chasten thy son while there is hope, thy soul spare not his crying ! " Was a truth when Solomon wrote, perhaps there's no denying. 130 BTRCH-ROD DAYS While this time-honored proverb, by Israel's greatest king, Evidently was considered then quite the proper thing, "Correct thy son, he shall give thee rest and delight thy soul ! " "The rod and-reproof give wisdom ! " his youth he might cajole, But not a Yankee child to-day away such nonsense wild, At this most ancient maxim : "Spare the rod and spoil the child ! " Oh, how I used to dread it, in my youthful days gone by, When every one would quote it, with blood right in their eye ; And with a tender feeling, akin to Beelzebub, With a ferule or a hazel they viciously would drub ; And the music of the refrain, as it floated away in air, Was but tears of simple childhood, which I was loath to bear I AND OTHER POEMS. 131 A MERCILESS MIND. Meeting a Lamb, when out walking one day, Knowing the Lamb from its fold was astray, A "Wolf thus addressed him: "Hear, sir ! You grossly insulted me last year, sir!" Bleated the Lamb, in mournful suspense : "Indeed, you're mistaken, I had not come hence." Then said the Wolf : " You feed on my clover, A thing IVe forbidden you over and over ! " Bleated the Lamb : "Your pasture's not wasted For clover's a thing 1 never have tasted." Again said the Wolf : "You drink from my well; What the injury is I scarcely can tell." "Mother's milk," said the Lamb, "is my food and my drink; [think." IVe not drank at your well; you're mistaken, I "Ah," said the Wolf, "I cannot find plea To eat him, that seemingly justifies me; Still I'll seize him and eat him, although he refute Everything, thus far, to him, I impute." A wicked, tyrannical, merciless mind, Some pretext for evil always will find. 132 BIRCH-ROD DAYS A GUEST OF THE CLUB. Exceedingly clever ! and without any parade, Wonderfully expert in handling a spade In games, which he plays ; while in wielding a club, No one is more daring when playing the rub ; Then, in playing a hand, has hearts to command : Few owning more diamonds than were held in his hand ! He is very convincing! Cards nestle about Make his acquaintance, should you have any doubt ! In dealing the cards, with a kindly regard For himself, the game he will ofttimes retard ; And while the best of players are sitting; close by, In a manner mysterious, tho' sly ; Will obtain from the deck, cards almost a peck, Proceeding his clothes to slyly bedeck ! And just how, when and where, he got those two pair, Make the most of us secretly swear ! AND OTHER POEMS. 133 Then the bat of that eve ! Delusive and sly, You cannot ever catch it, nor can I j 'Tis convincing too late, as I witness our fate, That most of our lives are predestinate! Why, if some one would give us two dozen packs, Neither you, nor could I, get more than two jacks; Then, when he would call us ! It would appall us To meet the calamity which would befall us ! Sad are reflections ! Many times I have wished, When back in disgust my chair I have pushed, That my eyes were not better at night As I would witness some brother's sad plight ; For none could keep pace with four kings and an ace Tho' stealing one king a burning disgrace With a flush, he said was a "sequent" Which to me were amazingly frequent ! His raise of that blind was remarkably good, As I quickly discovered after I stood ! Then the Doctor sat down, with face all aglow All doctors seem wise, even little they know 136 BIUCH-ROD DAYS Aching our hearts, our diamonds home sleeping, Till the dawn of the morning's silently peeping. Lovely's the morning refreshing pure air; The sun brightly beaming, new born, as it were; But the sky may be clear, the morning serene, Not so I fear one who rules home as a queen. Oh, the thing that we dread is that gentle surprise - Disguising our look from her languishing eyes! Have you experience ? Aye, there is the nib In staying out late with "A Guest of the Club." AND OTHER POEMS, 137 TRANSFORMATION. In the days of yore the gods possessed great power o'er all the clan, They could change the bird into a beast, the beast into a man. It is said the beasts in love became, as the instance which I cite, Of a cat, that deeply fell in love, with man her fate to plight. And she besought immediately, Venus, the goddess old Prayed to be transformed into a maid, to him her love unfold. Venus, pitying, changed her form to that of a maiden fair, With pearly teeth, and swan-like neck, and beautiful golden-hair. Then quickly she sought her lover, as maidens have always done, And won him with her beauty, as the maidens have ever won. 138 BIRCH-ROD DAYS But their honeymoon was not over nor settled in a place, When Yenus said: k ' I've changed her form of the cat is there a trace ? " While reclining in her chamber, with her lover by her side, The lovely youth that she had won, now enamored of his bride Venus then let a little mouse drop at the maiden's feet She sprang from the bed in quick pursuit, intent to catch and eat ! When Venus again transformed her. " What's bred in the bone," she said, "Will ever appear in the flesh, haven't I often read ? " "The cat, to a woman, I'll never transform that's not my plan Its nature I'll give to woman, and woman* I'll give to man." AND OTHER POEMS. 139 THE MAN OF DIGNITY. Have you never seen him as he comes with solemn pace, Proudly to the forum, in some important case, Always sitting upright, with grave and serious mien, Not seeming to augur usefulness merely to be seen? Giving to great occasions, both of Church and State, By his august presence simply pristine weight? Aye, have you never seen him, sitting at the bar, Stroking his big whiskers, looking graver far Than any of his fellows, who, with jolly air, Find a pleasure giving him the conspicuous chair! Grandly he looks, majestic, while he rarely talks; You discern his wisdom, as he sits or walks ? Ah, you have seen him, although you've never heard Anything of greatness he seldom says a word ; It is said, in speaking, he loses all that charm That gently hangs about him, and shields the man from harm : 138 BIRCH-ROD DAYS But their honeymoon was not over nor settled in a place, When Yenus said: iC I've changed her form of the cat is there a trace ? " While reclining in her chamber, with her lover by her side, The lovely youth that she had won, now enamored of his bride Venus then let a little mouse drop at the maiden's feet She sprang from the bed in quick pursuit, intent to catch and eat ! When Yenus again transformed her. " What's bred in the bone," she said, "Will ever appear in the flesh, haven't I often read?" "The cat, to a woman, I'll never transform that's not my plan Its nature I'll give to woman, and woman* I'll give to man." AND OTHER POEMS. 139 THE MAN OF DIGNITY. Have you never seen him as he comes with solemn pace, Proudly to the forum, in some important case, Always sitting upright, with grave and serious mien, Not seeming to augur usefulness merely to be seen? Giving to great occasions, both of Church and State, By his august presence simply pristine weight? Aye, have you never seen him, sitting at the bar, Stroking his big whiskers, looking graver far Than any of his fellows, who, with jolly air, Find a pleasure giving him the conspicuous chair! Grandly he looks, majestic, while he rarely talks; You discern his wisdom, as he sits or walks ? Ah, you have seen him, although you've never heard Anything of greatness he seldom says a word; It is said, in speaking, he loses all that charm That gently hangs about him, and shields the man from harm : 140 BIRCH-ROD DAYS For this man of dignity can never bear the crosses That fall to other men. without sustaining losses. He ventures few opinions, lest those opinions might Make his apparent wisdom become a little trite And you rarely ever see him try a hard-fought case, For fear his seeming dignity he might thus efface ; But he adds a presence, and always holds the fort, The most pompous personage that comes before the court. AND OTHER POEMS. 141 YALOR A beautiful Fawn once said to a Stag, Grown old and mischievous, given to brag, Stamping his foot and shaking his head Causing the herd considerable dread: "Pray sire, are you not very largo and strong' Possessed of horns with many a prong? Horns that are spreading horns immense? Horns that are useful in self-defence? fou have wind for either a race or jog, You are swifter in running than the dog; Then why is it, Stag ? have you such fear, When you see the hound, or his baying hear? " O lovely Fawn ! " said his Stagship old, 4i Altho' to my herd I seem fierce and bold, Altho' I'm vigorous and have skill, Resolve with the hound to grapple at will, To show my courage, and in future strife Gore deeply the hound and take his life! 143 BIRCH-ROD DAYS Demonstrate now and for all future time Courage and valor while in my prime. Ah! so soon as I hear the sound of his voice Seemingly there is left no other choice; My spirits fail, I cannot tarry me, Off I go fast as my legs can carry me. Argument to cowards no courage e'er gave Reason alone convinces the brave. AND OTHER POEMS. 143 POLLY, YOU TALK TOO MUCH. Polly was a bird well trained to talk, Could mimic a whistle anything mock; Would scream at a dog; yell at the cat: Away went Pussy when Poll cried "Scat!" The dog would go at her words: "Come here!" " Clear out, you rascal!" would run thro' fear. But a spaniel dog, whose name was Mudge, Was going down street with a stately trudge; When Poll, on Mudge thinking a trick to play, Spoke these words in a jocular way: u Sic her, Mudge ! Sic her! " as he passed her by "Sic, you rascal, Sic!" then turned to fly. Mudge turned like a flash, as might be inferred, And wiped the earth with that saucy bird. It seemed that Poll would not hold together, Or quit the fight with a single feather: Tho' Mudge ran off when Poll cried "Get out!" The life of the parrot was one of doubt. 144 BIRCH-ROD DAYS Then hobbling up on some steps of stone, With a bleeding wing and a broken bone; She mused to herself, as well she might, .Regarding her conduct which brought the fight "I think," said Poll, "this beats the Dutch, Tho' the truth is, Polly, you talk too much ! " It was many a day ere Poll recovered, 'Twixt life and death for a long time hovered And when once more Poll was well and gay, As she ate her cracker, strange words would say: At least to the children they appeared as such, When Poll would tell them: "Don't talk too much !" AND OTHER POEMS. 145 THE SMILE OF WOMAN. Life's pathway is thorned, tho' with roses adorned, The struggle is hard for man ; Yet cheerful he seems, and hardships he deems A part of God's wisdom and plan. And thanks for the love of our Ruler above, Who gave one solace below, Made earth's desert isle, by woman's sweet smile, A place even happy 'mid woe. Hope ever beams bright, like a beacon light, Cheering us onward through life j Not till gloom on us breaks, and sorrow o'ertakes, We falter and flee from earth's strife. It is then woman's smile will ever beguile Sorrow away from man's heart May the day never dawn when her smile shall be gone, And we from it forever must part. Life's shadows are cast, and on us fall fast, Like shades of the evening to stay ; 146 BIRCH-ROD DAYS And weary of strife, in the sunset of life, Man rests from the cares of the day. Then, like lilies so fair, sun-kissed in the air, The smile of woman will leaven ; In the age of decline, when pressed by old Time, Woman makes life to us Heaven. AND OTHER POEMS. 147 THE DISASTROUS CROSSING. I hear complaint, that our neighbor's cow, That in venturing sees a passing train; And in trying to make the crossing how ? In front of an engine Alas, in vain! For the engineer, in a reckless way Drives his engine a deadly missile, With the pilot catching any cow astray, Never ringing a bell or sounding whistle! Why on McShane's crossing last Saturday night, Number Six, a passenger, two hours late, Caught Smith's best Jersey, and killed outright His old milch cow with a loitering gait. What a pity it is these trains won't stop For the old milch cow with a loitering gait; That Knights of the Engine, with clubs don't hop And scare the cow let passengers wait; For time is nothing Aren't the crossings free? Don't laws of the State permit cows to roam ; 148 BIRCH-ROD DAYS To eat np gardens, hook the maple tree; Ditch trains on crossings while coming home ? But what does it matter a train be thrown From off the track with its human freight ; A fireman killed, a broken bone, By the old milch cow with a loitering gait ? And what's it matter, an engineers fear; A passenger killed by this cruel fate ; That millions of property be lost each year By the old milch cow with a loitering gait. The State still pastures this grand old cow; The streets and the cross^^seem always free ; Roads, sidewalks, bridges all subservient now To the old milch cow and her company; Wouldn't the saving of millions, now spent in fence, Preventing the ditching of passengers, freights, Be not a sufficient recompense, For keeping up cows with loitering gaits? AND OTHER POEMS. 149 RECOMPENSE. A Wolf, with a bone stuck fast in his throat, Offered a Crane a twenty-pound note; Promising pay, when the bone should be drawn From the muscular throat of the "Wolf so brawn. The long-necked Crane, For the love of gain, Into his throat put her head so stout And instantly drew the bone right out! "Your money now," said the greedy Crane. " I now have relieved you from all pain, Surely sir ! I want my reward ?" "Do you think," said the Wolf, "My word I re gard?" His teeth ever winding 'Mid grinning and grinding, " You surely already have quite recompense From the jaws of a Wolf your head to take hence.'' 150 BIRCH-KOD DAYS A CHARIVARI. The meon was rising, peeping through The lovely sky, with its azure blue; For the hour was late, eleven had sped, Ere the guests and hosts retired to bed j While the seeming stillness of the night, To the host and hostess gave delight. The village boys before had heard, Joshua Judkins had caged a bird ; And the leader cried: "I'll put the question, Isn't a charivari, boys, a good suggestion?'* When out there rang in ringing notes, "Aye! aye!" from many lusty throats. Said Jimmy McShane, the butcher's son, "I've a bucket of blood, hurrah for fun! We'll pour it around the house, then see The cows give Joshua a charivari." The blood was poured all over the grass. And the gates left open for cows to pass. AND OTHER POEMS. 151 Brown's brindle cow was the first that bawled; Then her yearling heifer loudly called j While fifty steers from Thompson's clover Threw down the fence and went rushing over; The village cows furnished new recruits A hundred strong, the bellowing brutes. Joshua, from his nuptial bed did rouse, Hearing the noise of the bellowing cows, In a garment red, with club quite stout, Fearlessly rushed to drive them out; His good bride watching, yelled: "Murder, Fire!" As Joshua ran from their vengeful ire! The cry was heard, by night-watchman caught The cry of fire! full of evil fraught; And in night's stillness the fire bell rang, Its thundering clatter went Clang! clang! clang! While neighbors ran in their clothes of night, As they only run in a panic's fright ! Meeting Jemmy as they rushing came, He bade them "stiddy!" there wa8 no flame! 162 BIRCH-ROD DAYS The bell was rung by some paltroon, After welcomin' Joshua's honeymoon! While the boys were on a bit of a spree; And the cows were givin' a charivari!" Again and again, was the sight unique, As they pawed and bellowed in wild freak ; And assistance was of no avail When a cow once struck the bloody trail! They pawed and bellowed tore the ground; Bewailing the air with moaning sound! Then, at the approach of the morning's light, When the sun rose up, full, round, and bright ; The blood all covered, content to yield, Each steer strolled back to his clover field. Each cow went bawling home to her calf, Leaving J oshua with his better half. AND OTHEK POEMS. 153 CAUTION. A Ewe unto her darling said, "Now, my Lamb, as you have been fed, I'll take me hither to the mead, And try to find myself some feed ; While I am gone, you watchful be That harm may never come to thee." "What shall I do, pray mamma dear, When you are gone, if Wolves I hear ?" The mother said: "Ah, precious child, Fear not the Wolves when roaming wild; Stay in the fold, ope' not the door, As I have told you oft before." " But mamma, should a playmate come ?" "Do not answer, but be quite dumb; Unless they give this watchword, fear 'A curse on the Wolf, he may be near.' ' A Wolf was strolling by and heard Remembered well the Lamb's watchword. 154 BIRCH-ROD DAYS The mamma gone, the Wolf came hence To give the pass and make pretense ; "A curse on the Wolf, he may be near !" Then to a crack he placed his ear. "Ay sir, I hear the 'pass,' 'tis right; Show now the 'sign,' 'A foot that's white.' " The Wolf, without white feet, was as tounded, And went his way, somewhat confounded, To think a Lamb would caution show, Demanding "pass" and "sign " to know ! The Lamb in showing prudence rare, Deprived the Wolf of mutton fare. AND OTHER POEMS. 155 DISCONTENT. Some timid Hares were in alarm ; In constant fear of coming harm; Resolved one day in desperation To rid themselves of all vexation. "Enemies will each day annoy; And snares will be set us to decoy ; Or else by hounds we'll be pursued; Our helpless race will be subdued." The leader did to all propose A way to rid themselves of woes ; "We'll to a precipice all go And jump into the lake below." So off they started, running fast Each leap was made like 'twere the last- Each Hare to seek a watery grave Life's troubles bury 'neath the wave. Upon the banks a school of Frogs, With scarce a care, on sunny logs, 156 BIRCH-KOD DAYS Heard their approach with great affright, And each one jumped with all his might Into the bottom of the lake, As quick as legs could bodies take. "Hold up!" cried the leading Hare, Our case is not one of despair! "For here are others more faint-hearted That by our running we have started! We'd best not do as first intended !" So back each Hare his own way wended : Finding more timid creatures sent On earth, the Hares were more content To wrestle with the cares of life : For each doth daily have his strife. AND OTHER POEMS. 157 LABOK HAS ITS REWARD. A Heifer was watching an Ox one day, When the Ox was hard at work j While the Heifer was bounding about at play She would frequently laugh and smirk. And taunt the Ox with reflections On his very unhappy fate : in being compelled to labor From early until late. Shortly after was the harvest home : Then the owner the Ox released : While the Heifer was bound with strong cords, To be slain at the harvest feast. The Ox said unto the Heifer, As her owner drove her away : " For this you were in idleness So long allowed to stay : 158 BIRCH-ROD DAYS I've noticed one thing all my life The idle may flourish awhile ; But an evil day will take them away Good-bye !" said the Ox, with a smile. Then let us always remember, And thro' life it always regard : There is no one thing truer here on earth - Than, "Labor has its reward." AND OTHER POEMS. 159 IN CONTEMPT. Into a trial court, by chance, one day, Two Irish gentlemen did idly stray; His Honor was calling a case between Tiraotheus Smith versus John McQueen. Counselor Jennings, with a bald old pate, Began the jury to interrogate; First, tendering four, to Counselor Clair, Whose shining cranium was minus hair. "Arrah! Ted," said Pat, to his Irish mate, u Be the powers that be these men ornate, Who're tryin' the case, are wather scald ; Fa'th! the skelps o' the lawyers both are bald! I'll bet"" Order! gentlemen," roared the judge; " Orther !" cried Pat, giving Teddy a nudge. " Bring up the culprits before the court ! " "What fer, Yer Honor?" was the quick retort. 10 BIRCH-ROD DAYS "Let a fine be entered for contempt!" "Contimpt? Why! Yer Honor, 'twas niver drimpt! I was merely offerin' my brother Ted, To wager a bit on the lawyer's head ; Whin, Yer Honor,yers'lf did fret an' frown I was goin' to put five dollars down That the bald-headed lawyer would win the case, Divil I'll bet -if it offinds Yer Grace." AND OTHER POEMS. 161 FLATTERY. An old thievish Crow, devoid all fear, Had stolen cheese from a cottage near, The dainty morsel the Fox could see As the Crow flew over into a tree. "Well!" said the Fox, "I humbly con fess, Cheese is a thing I'd love to possess j But how to succeed I hardly know Unless it be to flatter the Crow." Then he exclaimed: "How handsome the Crow ! In beauty no bird where'er I go Will excel her ! In form perfection ! The fairest of fair her complexion ! But oh, what a horrid, horrid voice ! If it equaled her beauty, Crow's choice Of all the birds for a ruling queen, For the Crow's a bird fine as I've seen ! " 162 BIRCH-ROD DAYS The foolish Crow, anxious to refute Reflections cast by the wily brute Then let go her cheese, and, la, la, la! Began an unearthly, "Caw, caw, caw !" Snapping it up: "It is quite a meal For a hungry Fox, better I feel;" "And good Crow, "said the Fox, now taunting, "Your voice is good, but wit is wanting!" It is well, dear friends, by this to see A flatterer lives on flattery, And will flatter not, without some aim; And should you heed him, who is to blame? The Crow was quite slow to comprehend Between a real and pretended friend; And hungry went that day was living On fulsome praise the Fox was giving. AND OTHER POEMS. 163 INTEGRITY. A thief one night came to a yard, A house to break for booty, But found the House-Dog, there a guard Intent on doing duty. " Here, fellow," throwing him some meat, "Come here, sir! Stop your alarm. Fine old Dog ! Why do you not eat ? Why bark? Sir, I mean no harm. " "This sudden kindness, "sir, of yours, These favors unexpected, To one who guards his master's doors, Must promptly be rejected. Ah, sir ! you have some private ends To accomplish for your gain. On integrity all depends ; To betray, sir, I disdain." Oft in this life it is the case, We have a place of trust and care, 164 BIRCH-ROD DAYS There's nothing more will us disgrace Integrity then to spare! 'Tis pleasure gone at heavy cost Betraying trusts when given, Respect of all on earth we've lost, And worthless sure for heaven! AND OTHER POEMS. 165 BEST LOOK BEFORE YOU LEAP. A Fox which fell into a well, Was casting all about For 'twas quite hard for him to tell Just how he should get out. A Goat came to the well and stood Wanting a little drink, Asked Reynard: "Was the water good?'' And, Plenty did he think?" Said Fox, dissembling his sad plight ; "Come down, my friend, and see; "I think 'twould give you much delight, 'Tis cool as it can be." Down leaped the Goat, head, horns and all,- The Fox jumped on him quick; Out of the well, over the wall, Was now a simple trick. Then spake the Fox : ' ' Had you the brain s You have of woolly beard, 166 BIRCH-ROD DATS You would be often spared the pains Leaping at what you heard !" "For life's at best a constant steep ! "Tis hard to climb, who can ? Then, always look before you leap Is much the wiser plan!" AND OTHEK POEMS. 167 HELP. Once a youthful bather Bathing in the sea, Called to a traveler: u Oh, come save me! " For the little bather Was going down, down, down; Down to feed the fishes ; To drown, drown, drown! Very unconcernedly Stood the traveler there, Telling the little bather: " Of water to beware ! " "It very imprudent was, Unless that he could swim To go into deep water That much he'd say to him ! " "Oh, sir! '' cried the bather, ' ' Help, help me ! ere I go ; BIRCH-ROD DATS You may scold me ever after But save me now from woe!" The traveler him admonished; The boy sunk out of sight And was never more permitted Again to see the light: So I say that counsel Without help's of little use j When one needs a helping hand Words are a poor excuse. AND OTHER POEMS. 169 MOLLITER MANUS IMPOSUIT. A client to his lawyer said Another had with club his head Pounded and beaten on his skull, Until his senses all were dull. And hence, to have his wrongs corrected, As well as all his rights protected, He merely now had called to see The law's appropriate remedy. The lawyer quickly glanced to look And took from off his shelf a book ; Then with his pen began to write, These words on paper did indite: John Smith, the plaintiff, here complains Of James Jones, defendant, and maintains That on, etc., with force and arms Defendant perpetrated, to wit, harms. He violently seized the plaintiff's hair, Then pulled and tore till scalp was bare 170 BIRCH-HOD DAYS Then with his fists struck many blows, Resulting in a bunged-up nose ; Then having downed him with a brick, He did the plaintiff kick and kick; The damage done to shirt and collar, Was of the value of one dollar. By means which, the plaintiff hurt and bruised, Sick, sore and lame, thus badly used, Physician's bill he has incurred, One hundred dollars is averred; And other wrongs, to plaintiff, great, As well, the people of the State, Wherefore, the plaintiff, injured, sues One thousand will his wrongs excuse. First plea: Not guilty; Second: 'tis said Molliter manus imposuit, was plead, That is, defendant but gently laid His hands upon the plaintiff, and him stayed AND OTHER POEMS- 171 From striving with force and arms to beat His neighbor Green in passion's heat; The plaintiff's trespasses above narrated, He verifies were those here stated. Then to the jury did each counsel show Defendant's zeal and plaintiff's woe; j Then to the jury plaintiff's counsel came And said: Defendant, by his plea, admits his blame; Molliter manus imposuit was the plea, Filed by the counsel, let it translated be: Molliter, he mauled, manus, the man, to wit, My client, and on him imposed imposuit. 172 BIRCH-ROD DATS HYPOCRISY. A Wolf, bitten by dogs, wounded, lay In liis lair almost asleep : When, perchance, a Sheep astray, Into the lair did peep. "Maimed sorely I am, my friend The fever running high tide Pray fetch me some water, and then Myself with meat I'll provide." "A fine idea!" the Sheep replied; " If I should bring you the draught I for you, too, meat will provide, The instant I am caught. Looks deceitful avoid, And hypocritical speech, If never by these annoyed Life's highest stations you'll reach. AND OTHER POEMS 113 THE FARMER'S SOLILOQUY. The autumn days are upon us, The leaves look yellow and sear; And cold chilly winds that blow on us Make a fellow feel shaky and queer. But the corn's full ripe and resplendent, With ears 'most as big as cordwood; And crops upon which we're dependent, This year are uncommonly good. And the stock is all fat in the pasture, For the rains that came down cleared away The drouth, that had weighed with disaster, Giving the chinz bug carnival sway: Aye, thanks to the rain that descended, And grew up the vine and the gourd; Things this season are happily blended, And God blessings upon us has poured. And turkeys! Why, gobblers are struttin' Everywhere up and down the lot, 174 BIRCH-ROD DAYS Never dreaming Christmas will be puttin' Them on to our tables hot! The potatoes are placed in the cellar, Tomatoes and berries all canned; With apples, the finest, and meller; That ever were raised in the land! The farmer ought to be happy, If you let him alone he will; And while his corn may be sappy, There's plenty in every hill. But it seems like trusts and combines. The tariff, jute plant, and all, With freights so extortionate sometimes, The farmer goes to the wall! AND OTHER POEMS. 175 AN EPISODE. She cried, and O her tears, how sweet! Her handsome form was trim and neat. When asked the reason of the fuss, Her only answer was, "That Gus!" speak! I said an answer came "No, no sir! little he's to blame. A kiss, he stole, it was no muss 1 cried, forsooth, because that Gus " I said again, "A stolen kiss From such a fair and handsome miss, Is battery in the first degree ! " Her answer, "What ! Gus kissing me?" Quoth I to her, "He well doth know, A stolen kiss is but a blow. A grave offence, I'd fine, as judge!" Her sweet reply to me was, "Fudge!" 178 BIRCH-ROD DAYS LUXURY AND EASE. O Luxury, I long for thee! g And beckon Ease come live with me Then will I be content! There's little else man wants below, Few will ever that little know 'Tis Heaven's choice blessing sent. 'Tis not a luxury I crave, In indolence and wealth to lave A life I would deplore; For bonds, nor gold, lull not to rest The anguish of a troubled breast, Nor bring content in store. Not for the ease of idle thought Which wealth hath its possessor taught, Longs now my heart, nor sighs; But O the Ease I long to taste Is with content to be well graced, Such, treasure never buys. AND OTHER POEMS. Aye, fawning man! thy sordid mind In pomp of power expects to find * True ease and rich repose. 'Tie only when thy cup is filled, With bitter dregs life has distilled, The emptiness then shows. The tallest oak must bend and break Before the storms that will o'ertake, Though seeming ever strong; The proudest warrior in his power Will crumble like the castle's tower Be silent dust ere long. Ah, Luxury and Ease, I ween Comes from a happy go between Seek not to emulate The one who thirsts alone for Fame, For Gold, or an Undying Name Have pity for such fate! Aye, happiness you'll find most dear, If found in life, is always near, 178 BIRCH-BOD DAYS No matter where you roam ; You seek for Ease in distant climes ; And Luxury in propitious times To find them at thy Home. AND OTHER POEMS- 179 ALLIE. Last night, in dreams, I saw her face, Her darling form to me was near; Her beauty, charms and lovely grace Brought to my eyes a gladsome tear. Allie, I thought, was with me there, And our two hearts beat now as one, In bliss and happiness we were From twilight until morning's sun. In childish sports we mingled o'er, And we of Nature's sweets partake She was to me the same as yore, I loved her for love's own sweet sake. 'Twas but a dream that to me came A fleeting dream 'tis come! 'tis fled! Would I were yet in bliss the same, With my lost Allie dear, instead. 180 BIRCH-ROD DAYS THE LITTLE PHYSICIAN. There is no type of man Among all I can scan, Assumes such a mystical air, As the little physican A kind of magician A man of some unction, as 'twere. He is always quite dapper, Remarked as a snapper, Important in the superlative degree ; And when called to a case, Assumes such a wise face, You are struck with the wisdom you see! Polite, to a fault, He bows should you halt, And tips a small hat which he wears ; With his pill-bags and cane, Tho' seemingly vain, 'Tis only his knowingsome airs. AND OTHER POEMS. 18] When he visits the ill, With powder and pill, Prescribes for a patient with brains; His bump of conceit Is the first thing you meet, As you lie there, racking with pains. As an expert, I ween, No other I've seen, Can theorize in, and then out; A hypothetical case, He states with such grace, As convinces beyond reasonable doubt. But his faults are all laid, Where the willow's deep shade Obscures them forever from view, As you pause to reflect, And can only suspect The devil will some day get his due. For there's no type of man Among all I can scan, '182 BIRCH-ROD DAYS Assumes such a mystical air, As the little physician A kind of magician A man of some unction, as 'twere. AND OTHER POEMS. 183 WHAT IS LIFE? Is life not an empty bubble ; But an iridescent dream ? Only a wave of trouble Pushing man along the stream ? Is life real, or a fancy spell To men mortal given, That teaches to abhor a hell, And to adore a heaven? Can it be said the daily task Of mortals here below, If 'twere exposed without a mask Would many pleasures show? Will not the toiler for his bread, Who bends the same each day, Still have the same enduring dread Of starvation's debt to pay? 'Tis ever toil, and ever strife, From morn until the sun 184 BIRCH-ROD DAYS Closes the evening of our life, And Man his race has run! Yet, still this life is full of Hope, And he who battles strong, Is able with the world to cope Happy as he goes 'long. 'Twas made, that we might toil and plan For our existence here, God will reward the struggling man- Let each be of good cheer. AND OTHER POEMS. 185 MY MARY. My Mary is a charming girl, I will not underrate her ; So fair is she that a' the rest Wi' spite and envy hate her. O deep is an artesian well, And deeper yet the ocean; Still deeper in my bosom is My love and my devotion. I'll gather daisies in the spring, To glad her heart with flowers ; On leafy trees the birds will sing, While we sit 'neath the bowers. The honey-bee still sips and sips The honey frae the rose, But I ha' found upon her lips Far sweeter honey grows. 186 BIRCH-ROD DAYS 'Tis her I wish some day to wed, My darling little fairy; The violets blue and roses red I'll pluck and gie my Mary. AND OTHER POEMS. 187 CHANGES. To think the changes that take place, What time will bring around; You look now on some boyish face The future man of town. Some boy who once was very poor, Fortune, the fickle Dame, Knocks at his splendid mansion door, And tells us of his fame ! And Fortune whispers with joy and pride, In accents clear and loud: "Should my favors be on your side, Be thou not vain nor proud. " For humble yet thy lot may grow; Act wisely every day; And learn a lesson 'tis well to know That Fortune may fly away ! 188 BIKCH-KOD DAYS "Just think how few are the people left We mingled with of yore ; How many families now bereft That ne'er knew grief before! ' ' And think how time will Fortune change, All things, and people, too; O'er all the universal range Things change, and so will you." AND OTHER POEMS. 189 THREE PLAGUES. Regret for the past! why, have none! Best banish dull care away j For the past is gone, all that is done Is with us ever to stay. Grief, at the present ! O tell me, Will it do a whit of good ? Earth's happiness we can all see Ever present if we would. Anxiety, for the future! I merely wish to suggest, Life's sorrows we only nurture That misery be our guest. Three plagues of human existence! Expel them all from the mind ; 'Twill help and be of assistance The pleasures of life to find. 190 BIRCH-ROD DAYS TO PORTIA. Sweet little girl, thy tender years Are now thine own, but soon one hears The call to a naaturer life: But for thee we have little fears ; Life will be one of joy not strife. To be happy, this life endears Women I find our best compeers I trust thou'll some day be a wife, Sweet little For there is nothing life so cheers, As the sweet wives we call our dears, Earth's pleasures then are rife: And fame divine which one reveres Will be far sweeter in this life, Sweet little girl. AND OTHBtt POEMS. 191 DAUNT NOT THE SPIRIT. Daunt not the spirit, Let it be free As the winds that sweep O'er land and sea ! Crush not the. spirit, O let it roam, Free as the waves On ocean home! Cage not the spirit, Let it run wild, Like to a laughing Wayward child! Bind not the spirit, O let it soar Always heavenward Toward Hope's bright star! BiKCH-ROD DAYS Spirit of Mortal, Ever be proud! From day of thy birth Till wrapt in the shroud. AND OTHER POEMS. 193 FORGIVE, O THAT RELIGION! Forgive, O that religion That teaches one to hate, A wandering, wayward brother That seeks thro' another gate! God help them to hold up in faith; Forgive it is a rarity; The only strength they have is Hope, They've naught of Christian charity. To God and man alike unjust, They will their brothers wrong, "Not in Thee alone " have they put their trust, E'en tho' their prayers be long. They at the stake would gladly burn Those differing from their view ; O God, we trust thou wilt in turn Love and forgive them too. 194 BIECH-ROD DAYS TO MARY. Sweet woman, let me here confess The love I have for thee ; A while no more thy lips I'll press- Still wilt thou think of me ? My Mary, thou canst not forget Glad times we've had together, Dear are they to my memory yet, And dear will be forever. 'Twas love, so gentle, kind and true, The love that never dies ; The while I bid thee now adieu, Thy love I'll ever prize. AND OTHER POEMS. 155 TEMPORAL TOWER. On a roof standing A Kid was bandying Words with a Wolf passing by: And began to defile him, To taunt and revile him, Feeling quite safe up so high. Said the Wolf : "Thee I hear, And thy cowardly jeer, But nothing you say doth me shock; 'Tis the place where you stand If I had you in hand, Not long, sir, me would you mock!'' It is often the case, There's advantage in place, And also in temporal power ; One must not abuse it, Nor ever misuse it, But try and make every hour 196 BIRCH-ROD DAYS A remembrance spot, Which memory will not Forget, but ever will treasure ; Or else you'll disgrace Not only the place, But yourself, likewise, in a measure. AND OTHEK POEMS. 197 WHAT IS THERE BETTER MAN CAN DO? What is there better man can do Than lead a Christian's life ; The vices of this world eschew Its never ending strife? Ah, it is sweet to work for heaven, And do the Master's will, For God will all our sorrows leaven, His promises fulfill. It is sublime for man to work Like the Savior of his kind, And never from life's duties shirk, But try more good to find j To ever try the good to teach, That men may better grow, And by kind deeds their hearts to reach, God's saving grace to know. 'Tis noble then each day to give The time, the thought, the care, 198 BIRCH-ROD DATS So long as God gives life to live To fight the tempter's snare. The good we do in life will be A credit to our soul; The man of good will ever see God will His deeds enroll. AND OTHER POEMS. 199 TRUE MIGHT. Boasting, the North Wind said to the Sun: "Never by you will I be outdone; I am more powerful and will try Who shall be victor you or I." "Then," said the Sun, " this I propose, I will use warmth and you may use blows, On yonder traveler, and we'll try Whether you can first strip his cloak or I." Then blew the North Wind a vigorous blast, The shivering traveler held his cloak fast; The strong North Wind failed after an hour To remove the cloak by might or power. 000 BIKCH-ROD DAYS Beaming out brightly the Sun then shone In genial warmth from his royal throne; No longer cold, the man cast in delight The cloak the Wind failed to remove by might. And from that time to the present day A kind, gentle manner, best will pay; Persuasion is better than use of force, A manner humane the wiser course. Tears of affection are precious things; Tears of subjection sure sorrow brings; Tears of force to the eyes of sorrow Bring never a joy for the bright to morrow. AND OTHER POEMS. 201 DISCRETION. 'Twas summer hot, The lake was not Deep water for a home j 'Twould soon go dry, 'Twas best to hie Two froggies thought to roam. So off they went On water bent, And searched all o'er the plain ; When soon they found A well, large round, The sun could never drain. "Into it plump, Come, let us jump! It is delicious, cool! 'Tis not good wit, Just wait a bit! " Said the other: "Deep's the pool! 203 BIRCH-ROD DAYS If it were dry With walls so high, How could we e'er get out? We'd better stay In the lake some day 'Twill rain beyond a doubt. " 'Tis sense, I think When on the brink Of a danger-threatening place, When peril's great, Never to wait, But quick one's steps retrace. AND OTHER POEMS. 203 SUMMER'S LABOR One cold, frosty day, An Ant ate away On food which we may Gather in summer When we feel well and gay. A Grasshopper, half fed, From hunger nigh dead, Besought her for bread: "When 'tis not summer 'Twas a hard life he lead." "What were you doing? What trade pursuing ? Why were you not viewing The fields of the summer For the winter ensuing?" Said the Grasshopper gay: "I danced every day, And was singing alway, 204 BIRCH-ROD DAYS Thinking the summer Would forever here stay." Said the Ant, cheerily: Singing then merrily "This I say, verily: Who labors not summer, Winters pass drearily." AND OTHER POEMS. 205 DISSENSION. Four Bulls were calmly feeding Upon the summer's grass j A Lion lay in ambush Waiting to make a pass. But while they fed together, He would not make them prey They guarded well each other And cared not to estray. The Lion at last succeeded In making an aversion ; By jealousy he breeded In causing a dispersion. Then when the Bulls were separate And from each other gone, 'Twas easy to annihilate And eat them one by one. 206 BIRCH-ROD DAYS 'Tis ever thus dissensions will, Among the best of friends, Breed nothing good, but only ill On peace success depends. AND OTHEH POEMS. 207 MY LADY FAIR Entwine thy hair, my lady fair, With roses off the lea ; The dewy rose that fragrant grows To glad thy heart and me. Upon its stem a diadem So lustrous to behold ; Though sweet indeed upon the mead, Sweet in thy hair of gold. Then deck thy hair these roses rare Seem fit and gay for thee ; In beauty glows the lovely rose I'll pluck and bring to thee. O ! golden hair, that will compare With the mermaids of the sea; O! starlit eyes, 'mid sunny skies, Where wealth and beauty be ! Thou dost beguile, with radiant smile, By thy beauteous self I swear, 208 BIRCH-ROD DAYS Thy wealth of bliss I will not miss, But seek and with thee share. Then will I twine, O lady mine, About thy golden hair The fairest rose the heather grows, To deck thee, lady fair. AND OTHER POEMS. 209 SCOTCH LETTER The wind is blawing very cauld. As now my paper I enfauld To write unto my ain dear hame, Wi' mony a wish you're blest in same. I'm very well, and God be thankit, I'm able, as of auld, to shankit. Sometimes I'm happy wi' my lot, Sometimes I'm sad why, I wot not; But still it gi'es me greatest joy To wat I'm Mither's darlin' boy. I read an' write a' the day long, Blackstone, Metcalf, an' syne a song'; O'er Tarn O'Shanter I laugh by turns, Wrote by the poet Robert Burns. I hae na wife, I hae na dame, God grant I ne'er may hae the same: For I'm content to live alone Mony's the troubles then I'll shun Then ilka day, and ilka hour That I hae time and hae the power; 210 BIRCH-ROD DAYS To write shall be my greatest ettle Ah, gin I o'ly hae the mettle. But to my letter, I hae left it, An' a' the gither wandered f rae it ; Na mair I dare na trifle wi' you, Sic clish-ma-claver as I do gie you, I ken, does bother auld folks greatly ; I'll ask, is she still proud an 1 stately, My wordy beast, my weel gann filly ? There ne'er was better than auld Mollie. Oh denna keep her poor and knaggie, Gie meikle corn to her auld baggie ; Wi' fond caress on mony a day, Gie to her meikle oats an' hay. Mayst thou hae meikle to eat an' drink, An' aye enough o' needfu' clink. An' neist, how is my bonny sister ? God bless her an' her guid auld mither - An' also bless her guid auld daddie I'll bless ye a', your bonnie laddie. To a', my everlastin', never dyin' An' sure, I canna keep frae cryin', AND OTHER POEMS. 2U For as I write, I ken~one other I'd rather see, than meet her brother, Who lives awa' in our auld town, For a better one canna be foun'- In bonnie boys it aye surpasses; En comely maids, an' bonnie lasses. Sinna I canna be wi' you, Be happy still as I bid adieu ; . A.n' if I should be slee an' funny, Pray think o' me, your ain guid sonnie; A.n' of 'en write me a guid auld letter, Naught there is will please me better; Careless is he who aye postpones Remember Yours truly, Will C. Jones. 212 BIRCH-ROD DATS CKAFTY. A Fox, who never a Lion Had seen until that day, Crouched meekly with fear before him, In a fearfully frightened way. But upon a second meeting He'd lost some of his fright, And talked with the Lion boldly, As if it were a right. At his third visit, emboldened, He to the Lion said: "When first I saw a Lion I had an awful dread But I find from close acquaintance I often see and hear, With those we term the mighty, That greatness flees when near. And familiarity breeds, sir, Contempt, likewise, I know." "Begone!" said the Lion ; "villain! Crafty, as well as low." AND OTHEB POEMS. 213 THE FIKESIDE. I love to sit by the winter's fire, And enjoy its warmth to my heart's desire. With life's affairs no more perplext, In my favorite book I peruse the text The lord of a castle all my own, And as glad as a king on his royal throne. To the cheerful blaze come merry souls, With faces bright as the glowing coals. Too soon these ties the years may sever, And those we love may be gone forever. The ties of home are more dear to me Than anything else in life I see. The winds may whistle around the roof j From the chilling storms I can keep aloof ; And I look about for the near and dear; And feel and know that we all are here. There is naught in life to me but this The sweet content of domestic bliss. U4 BIRCH-ROD DAYS The pleasures of home let us all enjoy! With its innocent gladness your time em ploy! For life is fleeting a passing breath ; The young and the old soon fall in death. Of the pleasures of life we ask but this The sweet content of domestic bliss. w AND OTHEK POEMS. 215 CHEISTMAS. I still love to think of scenes like this, Of days now long since gone ; When I was a child in my hallowed bliss, A boy an only one. On Christmas eve my stockings were hung "Old Santa" was sure to come; And merry hearts made merry tongue, And we were all at home. Those days are past and I a boy Older in years have grown ; Yet still, when I think, it gives me joy To know them once my own ! I am far from home this Christmas day, Where I but meet and bow, No friends I greet I'm sick and away Christmas is lonely now. I think of it all here every word The circle is formed, I know ; 216 BIRCH-ROD DAYS By merry hands the fire is stirred I see its cheerful glow. Think they of me ? I am with them there In the midst of Christmas rings, Tho' I feel the sting of a silent tear My lonely Christmas brings. I am thinking now, yes, thinking now, Of distant pleasure climes Plighting myself in a silent vow For future Christmas times! The time speeds slow; O! my heart's dis tress! On this long, lonely day Yet I wile me away from its dreariness Thinking of friends far away. AND OTHEfi POEMS. 217 AN ILL-SORTED LEAGUE. A Mouse, on one ill-omened day, Made the acquaintance of a Frog, When, after making a short stay, They started off upon a jog. The Frog he feigned a great affection To keep his friend the Mouse from harm ; And urged it was for her protection To have her tied unto his arm. When, coming nigh unto a brook, The Frog said: "Come, have courage, swim," And with a plunge the Frog then took The frightened Mouse in after him. The Mouse went floundering about, And did a great commotion make; Until a kite, them spying out, Concluded both of them to take. 218 BIRCH-ROD DAYS And pouncing down she caught the Mouse, Thus tied so tightly to the Frog, And bore them from their watery house, And straightway ate them on a log. Ill-matched alliance always end Just like that of the Frog and Mouse. For none who read will e'er contend Two such as they could keep one house. And one who will his neighbor trap, Or foully set for him a snare, Will find himself in some mishap Before he fully is aware. AND OTHER POEMS. 219 AN ILL-FOKMED ALLIANCE. A Lion roaming on the pebbly shore Espied a Whale'on the surface basking, And calling to him in a loud roar, Began these questions asking: "As I am the king of the lauds, And you the king of the seas, Would it not be proper that we join hands And have power to do as we please?" The Whale to assent to this seemed glad, And promised with right good will, For neither of them a doubt then had He couldn't his promises fulfill. It chanced the Lion was first in a fight, Attacking a Bull one day, And he called to the Whale with all his might, To take the Bull's gores away. 20 BIRCH-ROD DAYS The Whale would gladly have joined ic the fray, But he was unable to leave the sea, Tho' the Lion his friend he would not be tray, Yet he proved but a poor ally to be. It is best when you form any compact, On the land or on the sea, That all of the parties to the act Are able and will all agree. And then, too, before the contracting, Be careful make no mistake That both the contracting parties Can do all they undertake. AND OTHEE POEMS. 221 DECEPTION. A wealthy Koman, in days of yore, Oft for his friends had good in store ; Sometimes it was a feast, sometimes a show To which his neighbors were asked to go. One day he proffered a large reward To him who offered the fittest card That is, to him who would play best Amuse the people by joke or jest. Contesting artists began to arrive, US-tJfJi, Each fer the other soon to strive ; Incited by eagerness for the prize, Each tried his best to seem most wise. Reports went round, the neighbors flocked Until the Forum fairly rocked With eager people, there to see Conjurers of such high degree. A Mountebank gave out, one day, That he had something new to play; 222 BIBCH-ROD DAYS Something which he would vouch no age Had yet produced on any stage : Amid curiosity and suspense, Without assistants, stepping hence ; He mimicked a pig, so like the squeal The audience thought the pig quite real. Some said the pig was 'neath his cloak, And claimed the trick to be a joke. Others insisted upon a search, Intent the clever trick to smirch. They searched the showman searched him well And to the audience they would tell That nothing upon him could be found. Applause went high, round after round. A Farmer 'mongst his neighbors sat, Observed the trick not new, -and that He could perform in better style, Which caused his fellows but to smile. The morrow came, with it the crowd, All ready with their praises loud AND OTHKR POEMS. 22 Of Mountebank, who stepping front, Would mimic both the squeal and grunt. Up went the hands of the audience all, Cheer after cheer that would appall The Farmer, who began to feel For ears of a pig that was real. He pinched the ears and pulled the tail, And the pig to squeal would never fail ; While the audience hissed at every sound. Until the squeal was fairly drowned. "Romans, I see you love deceit, Discard the real for the cheat ; Applaud the mimic of the squeal, And hiss at the one you know is real." Then, much to everyone's surprise, He placed the pig before their eyes. And do not we who live to-day Conduct ourselves in the Roman way? BIRCH-ROD DAYS LIFE'S GRAPES. Ripe, lovely grapes, but trellised high, A roving Fox by chance did spy And as they hung in a sunny glow They were to the Fox a tempting show. Reynard by many a vain leap tries To get a taste of the longed-for prize, But finding possession quite out of his power, Said : "It matters not; the grapes are sour." So the grapes of life, which ofttimes we So dearly covet whenever we see, But finding them beyond our reach, Like the sly old Fox, " sour grapes" we preach. AND OTHER POEMS. 225 THE MISER. All that he had a Miser sold, Receiving therefore a lump of gold. Which he buried away Where it wouldn't pay, Into a hole that very day. It was a very secluded spot, At least that is what the Miser thought By the side of a wall, Once stately, tall, But demolished all, Scattering a pile of sand and brick No better place could a Miser pick. Daily the Miser went that way, Frequent his visits, short his stay ; And it was his delight To know it was tight In a hole out of sight Away under the ground, safe and sound From mercenary people tramping 'round. 236 BIRCH-ROD DAYS For in a measure His only pleasure Was in this treasure. And none can tell what the Miser thought. Or the heavenly joy this treasure brought. A little caution I would advise, Tho' extra caution's not overwise ; Was the thief's thought Who marked the spot And formed a plot To dig into the Miser's treasure, Then carry it away at pleasure, At dead of night, When there was no light To mark his flight. It was thought to be cunning, crafty, bold The way the Miser lost his gold. At his next visit the Miser found Naught but a hole a hole in the ground Then he tore his hair, In his great despair, AND OTHER POEMS. 227 And sorrow there. Imagine a lifetime's pleasure lost ! Then think of the trouble this treasure cost. Oh, wretched man ! More miserable than All earthly clan ! And the Miser wished that he was dead, For the joys of life for him had fled. A friend found him cast down with grief, And ministered thus to his relief : ' ' Pray, why dost grieve ? Sir, by your leave, A stone I'll heave Into the hole, you may fancy gold 'Twill answer your purpose at least ten fold." For you are aware, When your gold was there, The only care Was its safety not its use to lend Then a stone is a thing you cannot spend. " 228 BIRCH-ROD DAYS But the Miser in life no more joy found; Soon died and was buried in the ground, Without oration, Without ovation, By the donation Of some kind friends there were but few Who in his lifetime the Miser knew. His grave so lone Now bears a stone, With words his own : "Miserable! Miserly! Heed, my friend For the wants of life your money spend." AND OTHER POEMS- 229 THE REWARD OF STEALTH. Reynard was blessed with a bushy tail, Of lovely hair he was wont to trail No other's was more graceful. He thought he had unbounded wit At least a plenty to care for it, And carried it quite graceful. But people will always a thief abhor, And against them wage continual war. Reynard kept stealing, year after year, The neighborhood poultry without fear, That justice would o'ertake him. He would prowl by night and sneak by day, Gobbling up chickens that came in his way, Thinking luck would not forsake him. But Reynard staying out one night quite late, Met this, a most untimely fate. Reynard, while stealing, fell into a trap, And tho' full of vigor aud full of snap, 230 BIKCH-ROD DAYS Energy was of no avail. Serious trouble ! His thoughts came quick, Only one remedy cut off slick His beautiful bushy tail. Sensible he was to this disgrace, Sensible too of the time and place. Resolving, however, to make the best Of a matter bad, he said to the rest: "Foxes, it is with joy I hail The convenience with which I move about, I feel quite at ease, and should you doubt, Do away with your bushy tail. " But scorn and laughter were heaped upon The unfortunate Fox when he had done. AND OTHER POEMS. OPPRESSION. A Wolf stole down on a shepherd's fold, And seized a Lamb, in a manner bold, And began to bear it off to his lair, Intent upon making a meal of it there; When a Lion, switching his tail in wrath, Suddenly leaped across his path, And boldly seized the Lamb from his jaw, Then scowled at the Wolf who stood in awe. "That Lamb was unrighteously taken from me, 'Tis mine," said the Wolf , entreatingly. "What! Yours?" the Lion jeeriugly said, As he tossed his mane and shook his head. "Might makes right, else you'd not have had The shepherd's lamb a meal not bad. You know that the strong the weak oppress A truth I am sure you will confess." 232 BIRCH-HOD DAYS TREACHEROUS FRIENDSHIP. Over hill and dale, by the Hound pursued, A fleet-foot Hare was at last subdued ; First the Hound would bite, as her life to take, Then fondle and feign amends to make. U O that you were sincere," then said the Hare; "Pray show by your colors what you are If my true friend you are, why bite so hard ? If my enemy, why show me regard? "Those whom we can neither trust nor distrust Are not true friends that treat us just j Better the hate of an enemy, Than feigning friendship and base treachery." AND OTHER POEMS. 233 MY LOVES. My first was a damsel, as fair as a rose That blooms in the morning, fresh with dew; She was comely; I loved her, and everyone knows No love like the first is so warm and so true. I was then but a boy in my passionate teens ; She was charming I fondled her dearly. Oh! I cannot forget, tho' time it me weans, For I loved her, yes, truly, sincerely. Long since she has left me lament's no avail Is married a mother to me that is naught; Once more on love's waves my bark I will sail- To grieve would be folly, with evil full fraught. My second a sweet little miss of thirteen Had lips like twin rose-buds; and laughing gray eyes; Resplendent as sunlight her hair's golden sheen; Like the ripple of brooks sweetly low her replies. Ah! She was my idol I worshipped her too And fond were the hopes that I cherished. 234 BIRCH-HOD DAYS I would wed her one day, ray darling so true; Alas, furtive hopes, how they perished! She, too, went away I do not now care Still her memory is deep in my heart I suppose, like my first, a mother, somewhere, A dear little wife doing nicely her part. My third, and the best, the last kindled spark, Was a sweet little maiden, her summers sixteen. Eyes beaming with brightness, so loving, so dark, And bonny brown tresses, the fairest e'er seen. Adored I my fair one, oft my love I'd repeat, With a kind and affectionate heart; I now had determined, if she beat a retreat, It would not be owing to my not doing my part. I wooed and I won her the best I must tell Ever happy we've been from that day; Life's best thing I find is the home where we dwell, When all help to make it pleasant to stay. AND OTHER POEMS. 235 COINS. Hope, thou art a flatterer, upright and just; In thee life's weary pilgrims put their trust The poor man's hut, the mansions of the rich Alike, with one accord, thou dost bewitch. Base as a currency, tho' paid at court, Thou art, O Flattery, a dernier resort j By common custom, a coin quite often paid, Tho' base and worthless, yet good stock in trade. Thank God, the resurrection bone will stay Impervious to death, and to all decay ; Fire will not burn it, nor hammer break, Mills cannot grind it, nor water slake. Life's wicked gayeties 'round which men cling, First bring them pleasure, then to ruin bring; Like the volcanic mount whose surface grows with flowers, But desolate soon amid scoriae showers. 238 BIRCH-HOD DAYS The stars are pearls of the unclouded night, As truths are pearls of sorrow to teach the right; And often a bitter truth, when well impressed, Has proven useful, and its owner blest. 'Tis ease and luxury that obscures the mind, While poverty doth its possessor grind; But grinding sharpens 'tis a school whence Its graduates have success immense. We grieve as life speeds by, yet have no care, And long each period past the new to share; The youth longs ever to be of full age; The business man for busiest stage ; One seeks life's honors to be known as great, And seldom is content on time to wait ; With all regretful we all soon aspire To gain life's rest to be at ease, retire. Stars ! Pearls of darkness, make resplendent night; Truths! Pearls of sorrow, teach us to know the right. AND OTHER POEMS. 237 Beauty, thou dost with thy unerring glance The souls of guileless men to thee entrance; Thy art's alluring, and thou dost succeed An hypnotizer thou art indeed. While yet an angel, thou hast reptile wings, And waste thy sweetness on too many things. Bear well misfortune with a Christian's zeal, The world will let you bear without appeal ; The Christian fortitude so oft expressed Grief for their own deeming yours a jest. Man strives for wealth to find his trouble grows, And strives for knowledge to find he little knows. *". Contemn not men until they've injured you, And when they have, detest and them eschew. Of all the actions of a wise man's life, There's none so great as to choose a wife; His marriage mankind should the least concern, To meddle with it most his neighbors yearn. 238 BIRCH-ROD DAYS A hero is a soul, who, sick with ills, Can be induced to take physicians' pills; 'Tis true they will amuse a sick man's mind Until they kill, or nature cure will find. 'Tis well to think well, divine to act right, But he does most who does one act contrite. AND OTHEfl POEMS. 239 I. THE RELATION OF MAN TO NATURE. THE ARGUMENT. Man is the most helpless of all beings born into this world, yet has been given control of the other beings upon the earth. Man has honor and glory, and is created without a peer. Into the world most helpless being born, Is Man made like his God, earth to adorn ; Yet he, proud son of God's eternal hand, Boasts mastery o'er the boundless sea and land; To death, this atom, creature of the earth, If left uncared for, doomed is he at birth ; But from his first until his final breath Asserts o'er all the rights of life and death. Unable what the hour shall bring and where To tell, yet to interpret and declare God's laws, assumes he ways of the most high ; The heavens measures, maps out earth and sky ; Marks planets' orbits; and courses define Of worlds no longer human but divine! 240 BIRCH-ROD DAYS Sport of the elements! Imperial child! Lifeless he falls if but the air's defiled With vapor invisible; and quakes with fear If but the voice of thunder he doth hear. Man, who, like the grass, to-day is glorious, To-morrow withered, and death victorious, Assumes to rule o'er the eternal hills; And rivals Him who rides on clouds, and wills The lightning's flash, the torrent's pour; The fire-cloud's burst that warned the men of yore. Upon the wave this raindrop takes control Of infinite seas, where boundless billows roll. Thus, man hath glory, splendor, honor, here, Created Lord of Earth, without a peer! II. Man is a part of Nature. It is the purpose to ascertain his relation to Nature. My theme is Nature how 'tis linked to Man, And Man to Nature strange and mighty plan! What's meant by Nature? Comprehensive term! Nature, and super-nature, we affirm AND OTHER POEMS. 241 Are often talked about, nor vain Our efforts here to separate the twain. To draw the line at just the limit Of human knowledge, think not for a minute; For no man dares to say that Nature goes Only so far as his experience knows. No one should be allowed to e'er contend, Concerning things he cannot comprehend; And say the unobserved is but a miracle, ' s Nor term God's mysteries empiraSft^ The highest knowledge still is uncontrolled, For Nature will the strangest things unfold, Take planets Neptune, Saturn, Mars and Jove Bright, shining stars, celestial worlds above: Can sage explain the ruby hue of Mars? Neptune's construction, that of other stars? Is Saturn made of rock, and that bright ring Entwined around its disk, the wondrous thing Is it an iron forged and made a tire At Vulcan's smithy, kept in galling fire ? He used to work in days erstwhile, we're told, On ^Etna's height, and various things did mould. 242 BIRCH-ROD DAYS The greatest, grandest one of his invention Was woman, named Pandora her I'll mention. Yet, palaces for Mars, and for Achilles arms; A golden chain for Juno ; other charms He made; arid thunder-bolts for Jove he hurled, That tore asunder, rent the reeling world In desolation made the boldest quake, And cities crumble, as when earthquakes shake ; A wondrous smith! And from his forge and fire Was not Saturna girded by that tire? By Jove's high orders, then did he aspire To whip Saturna, take his royal throne And rule among the Gods in power alone? Tell me, ye wise men. are these planets water, Rock, forest, iron, gold, or other matter? Gold, did I say? not gold, I mean it not, For if our sons of fair Columbia thought Gold was, no matter where, if near or far, In unknown worlds, or in some shining star, They'd seek it, get it, dig it, grind it new, And clean it, mint it, coin it, hoard it, too. AND OTHER POEMS. 843 You ask me how they'd get it please don't fret, Stars are in mystery, undiscovered yet. The planet Yenus, distant to our view, By telescope we see its light, 'tis true. To tell the form or elements that make A larger instrument than known 'twill take. Yet Yenus is a part of Nature's birth, Like planet we inhabit, called the Earth. By birth a part of Nature's great creation, We may suppose it peopled by a nation. I do not know, but such is my suggestion, If not, what is it? That is still the question. No one can say, with hope to be consistent, That by a miracle the Star's existent. For naught there is in Nature or her course, Or in the uses of her laws and force As supernatural, to be claimed by man ; Still, worlds are made on a mysterious plan. Water made wine, miraculous may seem ; If 'twere not done by chemicals, I'd deem It so. Accustomed to such changes though, We speak of them as natural, also. 244 BIRCH-ROD DAYS To raise one from the tomb, scarce dead a day, Disputes the laws of life and of decay. 'Tis very strange! Not supernatural, no, 'Tis Nature's proof, and only goes to show A higher law upon dull matter wrought Above the limit of the things we're taught. III. Nature is a system of worlds, which the All-wise Father has made for the children of the Earth. What's meant by Nature? That I'll try to tell, Will try to please, and try to do it well. The clustered worlds were made by God above, That Man, his proudest creature, here might move; Things physical, symmetrical, complex, Organic, inorganic, be our text ; The grain of sand upon the surging shore, The mighty waves, with loud resounding roar, The curling vapors, darkly heaped on high Majestic clouds athwart the azure sky, OTHER POEMS. 245 From microscopic atomies of life To monsters of the deep, with terrors rife. Gasses and solids, rocks, planets, earth and air, All things which have a conscious being here. IY. Man cannot comprehend God's creation, and disobeys the laws of his Creator. j He gropes his way in darkness throughout life. Poor, foolish Man, his conscious powers obeying; When born into this world, commences, saying: U A mighty lord am I! Who placed me here? I have no equal, either far or near." Said Adam: "Do these beings rule my life? Pray, tell me that, my own, my darling wife." Said Eve: ' ' Ne'er mind I've found an apple sweet, Come here, dear Adam, come and freely eat. 1 ' He looked and ate and was accursed then His sin has cursed his race of fellow-men. What are we, then? Whence come we ? Whither go? We think, we reason, but we do not know. Oh, wretched man! With all thy boasted powers, Thy joys are fleeting as the summer showers; 246 BIRCH-ROD DAYS In vain thy aspiration so sublime ; Thy fondest hopes are doomed, and, like thy time, But speeds thee by ; vainly you clasp and cling, While Time still mocks at thee, and will thee bring Unto the grave. All reach that bound at last Wrapt in oblivion, buried in the past. V. Man, however, belongs to the world he is coeval with Nature and de pends upon it for existence. And how does Man to this vain world belong? Is his a race apart from all the throng ? Man born with Nature, he must needs depend Upon kind Nature ever to him befriend. Man's physical constitution is the same, Of regular organism, him I'll name. And passions, too, the lordliest men do show Possessed by brute creation far below. We boast our lineage, and yet 'tis plain Are but of clay. 'Tis useless to be vain, For atoms of the grandest type of Man Are seen in members of the lower clan. AND OTHER POEMS, 217 The German flower-gardeners often say That Man is only water, carbon, ammonia. There's no abstract existence, man's first born Ere the spiritual world he can adorn. On earth, not freed from power of earthly bands So like the beast, yet lord of many lands. VI. Man has a common substance, which is shared by all other forms of created beings belonging to God's creation. Organic matter? There is not one kind In human frames, that elsewhere you'll not find. For tissues, muscles, bones and nerves of men; The veins, cells, carbon and the hydrogen Are equally identical when found As in all other forms of life abound. The crumbled rock, the soil, the plant, the star, Each gives to us a part of what we are. It is no metaphor for one to say That man who lives on earth from day to day, Lives in the trees; lives in the leafy bowers; Lives in the singing birds; lives in the flowers; 248 BIRCH-ROD DAYS Lives in the rifting clouds that float on high ; Lives in the vapor of the heavenly sky. Whether there's transmigration 'of the soul There's transmigration of our bodies whole In various other forms of life created For soon our bodies must be transmigrated. We have alike a common substance given With evil things and with things fit for heaven. There's phosphorus in the lordliest of brains; And iron even in a prince's veins. And this is man the creature called sublime, The slave of matter, and the thrall of Time! The Human body's born, and then it dies, By death disintegrated where it lies. VII. Man is the highest type of God's creation. Science has demonstrated that there is a similarity iu creation of all God's beings; and that Man has instincts and passions in common with all of them. Proud Man takes highest place in him we find The loftiest order of the scale in kind : AND OTHER POEMS. 249 But 'tis not difficult for us to go From rocks to his self-conscious being, no! For science now has clearly demonstrated By physiologists 'tis promulgated That human bodies, prior to their birth, Go through the grades of animals of earth. Humbling, it may be, to our human pride, Yet 'tis a fact we cannot well deride. In structure, Man's to animal more near Than animal to bird, for it is clear Man's skeleton is more like the baboon Than skeleton of bat is like the loon. So, too, mankind the lowest instincts share With lower animals, as wolf or bear. Our hands are beautiful, smooth, and wondrous fair, Yet like the claws of lions in their lair. In skull of wolf or hissing snake we find A brain like that of Man, whose mighty mind Has ruled the ages passing strange, yet true! From lower forms we rose to high and new. 260 BIRCH-ROD DAYS VIII. Natural history is incomplete without lichens, ferns, and the coral reef of the lower order of creation. It is equally so with Man, the highest type of creation. In days of yore the ancient fancies gleam In metamorphoses, and it would seem The Roman Ovid,, writing of to-day In view of science, would unquestioned say: That animals and plants in growth adorn The brother man a perfect being born. Our Natural History is incomplete If lacking lowest forms j in order meet The lichens, ferns and mosses must be counted Until our minds to higher forms have mounted. As well the sponge, the coral reef, and then It still is incomplete till we add men. Mars may perchance be peopled, or bright Jove, The Moon, or the bright Nebulae world above, With some yet strange, superior clan, Who have no known relation to our Man. Who think without brains, and fly without wings, AND OTHER POEMS. 251 Walk without feet, without a tongue still sings. Such beings dwell in our imagination To our material world have no relation. IX. The characteristics of Man may be perfectly described by the use of metaphors embracing the lower tribe. The various human traits we may describe By metaphors about the lower tribe. We say, as fierce as lion, sly as fox, Timid as a lamb, patient as an ox, Busy as bees, or like the goat capricious, Mild as a dove, like the hyena vicious. The dog no greater or more faithful friend To dwell on earth with mankind God did send; No greater fondness shows the human mother Than does the hen which doth her chickens hover. For it is true in beasts we often see What praise we most in Man, a quality That fits the good man for the world above Where all is gladness, peace and joyous love. 252 BJKCH-BOD DAYS X. Man is wholly dependent upon the lower races for subsistence, but they are not dependent upon him. There is no part of Nature but what Man makes use of, Man uses, admires, and adores Nature, and God has so made Nature that it is varied and intended to please all mankind. While it is true that Man cannot exist Without the lower races, they subsist ; The foxes have their holes, the birds their nest ; What has poor Man? Not where to take his rest! From first until the final breath gives way, These creatures minister to his wants eacli day j With greater knowledge yet he scarce contrives To live without these low, inferior lives. That he must live, Man must breathe vital air, Must drink from fountains, water, cool and clear, Must feed on fruits of fields, the corn, the wheat, The flesh of animals compelled to eat. Man's mansion, home, to him a paradise, He doth of wood, earth, iron, stone, devise. AND OTHER POEMS. 253 Take but the natural elements away, Man could not live upon the earth a day. O Nature, Man doth all thy beauties love! From atoms here to thy great works above; He loves the beauteous landscape Nature made, With grouping trees, and cool and grateful shade. Music's ethereal voice which moves the soul Is but thy air, as sweet vibrations roll From trained voice of some great queen of song, Or music from the woods of winged throng. Thy works are varied for Man's pleasure here, And Man is ever changing o'er thy sphere; For some are never happy where are trees Some have no joy without the balmy breeze; While some may love to watch meandering rills ; Some love the prairies, others love the hills ; Some love to live beside the great blue sea, Some think it desolate as it can be. To some philosophy and pleasure hies, On cloudy days, amid the weeping skies. 254 BIRCH-ROD DATS XL Nature is needed to develop Man. Its influence expands his mind, and Man grows continuously in knowledge in studying tbe wisdom of God's creation. It teaches him the lesson of immortality. Nature is needed to enrich Man's powers Which God has given us as truly ours ; This world is beauteous in sights and sounds ; With Nature's myriad voices it abounds ; From rock, from river, tender flower and spray, Come ministers of joy for every day. Man must have Nature, with her fountains, rills, Her prairies, lawns, her woodlands, farms, and bills, Her birds, her beasts, her insects and her grain, Her forests, rocks, her wonders, I maintain Those who well know them nobler men will be, And larger their spirituality. O, Nature, quiet, lovely Nature, we Under thy influence would wish to be ; To know of God's creation makes us wise ; His trees, His fruits, His plants, His flowers, His skies And all the universe clear-voiced shall teach, Man mortal and decaying things must reach, AND OTHER POEMS. 255 For they help teach us when this life we've trod Our soul immortal is there is a God. XII. Man is different from the things which God created to live with him. He has power to fill God's offices here below. He controls by vol untary will. He has power of migration, and can go from pole to pole, and can live and thrive well everywhere. This is not true of God's lower creation. Man diners from the things that God created To live with Him ; for man is separated From mountain, forest, birds, or any beast O'er all creation Man is still high priest. He has the power God's office to fulfill, Alone controls by voluntary will ; Alone has perfect power of free migration Alone removes from station unto station ; On Mother Earth, changes his dwelling-pi ace Alone can mingle with some other race ; Changes one air for other, east or west ; Seeks at his will the climes that he loves best From north to south, from forest and from plain ; Goes from the lowland to the highland main ; 256 BIRCH-ROD DAYS Or from the torrid to the frigid clime, And lives, and likewise thrives in all, sublime. 'Tis true the dog in every clime is known, Goes with his master, Man, from zone to zone ; The lion lives in Afric's sunny breeze, Except when caged and carried 'cross the seas. Seeds emigrate that task the winds perform Birds fly across the ocean with the storm ; Indeed, they sometimes warmer climates seek, At times the cooler crags and mountain peak. But these are certainly but chance migrations, And should not be confounded with earth's nations. Seeds go with the winds; birds fly with the season ; God's child, proud Man, alone migrates by reason; To no one place restricted, here to-day, To-morrow elsewhere, as he wills or may. By myriads each year their Emerald Isle The Irish leave, with sad and tearful smile, To seek a home beyond the far-off sea, Be with his brother there forever free ! His bogs remain, and will, forever fast, A part of Ireland, future, present, past. AND GTHEU POEMS. 257 The Germans come, but their black forests stay, Enduring monuments, till Time's decay. Man orders changos, goes where he may please O'er all the earth, and over all the seas. The wise man travels over seas and lands, Notes what he wills, and thus his mind expands; Sees many races, reads their books; and then Learns science and the arts and tongues of men ; He thus fulfills his destiny below Knows well himself, and others tries to know. XIII. Man alone has been gifted with speech, by moans of which he conveys his thoughts and expands his reason. And then no other being but proud Man Possesses power of speech, by which he can Ideas express, his very thoughts convey, Vary, enlarge, and broaden, day by day, Nature, 'tis true, has voice ; her spheres abound With music sweet, with Nature's heavenly sound j For there is music in the ocean's roar; And there is music in the torrent's pour; 258 BIRCH-ROD DAYS And there is music in the waves that crash Upon the ocean's rocks, then roll and dash In tide that ebbs and flows from out the sea, With rolling sound of deepest melody. All Nature has a voice the insects gloat, And sing or chirp, in their peculiar note; The Locust's song is heard thro' all the land To-day, as first it sang on Egypt's strand ; Chirps still the cricket at the twilight's dawn ; Croaks still the frog as in the ages gone ; The serpent hisses, rattles, warns its foes Ere it will deal its death impending blows ; Still may be heard the cry of crocodile Unchanged tho' centuries roll along the Nile. The birds still twitter, scream or chirp, in talk, Save few that do possess the power to mock ; But Man the voice of reason doth command : His speech, his thought, his reason doth expand ; How high is he endowed divinely wrought, Who by his speech conveys eternal thought. AND OTHER POEMS. 259 XIY. Man can control all natural forces can handle and tame the brute element. Man reasons and thinks for himself; Invents, and by reason of his inventions, utilizes all the forces of Nature, and brings them to do his bidding. 'Tis clear that Man controls the natural forces, Lord over mountains, valleys, water-courses, He can the lightning harness, for his thought, To flash around the world. And he has taught The lower creatures to obey his will, And all his menial duties to fulfill. He pierces mountains, and the lakes he fills With excavations from the stately hills ; Rivers, that in broad channels proudly go, Are changed, in hidden million rills to flow To houses in the cities far away, For grateful ministry to man each day ; The deep blue ocean, with relentless waves, Man plows his way through with great ships, and braves Its storms and hardships, things of greatest worth He brings from all the nations of the earth. 260 BIRCH-ROD DAYS Forcing the elements, combining skill To uses new, by force of power and will. The lower beings naught invent, create, They processes repeat, nor hesitate For generations o'er the same to do, Ingenious it may seem, 'tis never new. On Syrian hills the leopards hunt to-day, As in the ages gone they sought their prey; The beaver builds his dam across the stream, No more ingenious now than past, 'twould seem. And busy bee, its cells for storing food, Of old was just as now, tho' always good; The ant has found no new way food to stow, Resorting still to her old process slow. The busy mind of man is ever wise : He presses on, inventions to devise; His mind, not satisfied with former deeds. With new resources struggles and succeeds. The rudest savage will much more invent Than the wisest animal that God e'er sent. The spider's web, as it doth float in air, Can it with weavings of the loom compare? AND OTHER POEMS. 2W1 Is the fastidious butterfly, so gay, Flitting among the gorgeous flowers of May, To be compared to chemist, who by skill, Combines the flowers, their essence makes at will? XV. Man alone of God's created beings c;ui interpret Nature, can read God's plan. Man bus a science of Nature, even tho' it be crude, and tries to ferret out and ascertain the secrets of Nature. Even in a little flower Man finds a treasure. Animals have instinct but not reflective sense, nor Man's intelligence. Another difference, 'tis left for Man To interpret Nature, read God's plan. Their law the other works of God obey, But Man interprets well their law each day. Back to the origin of things Man turns, To know, explain things, quick his eyes discerns The past, notes changes growths now gone will tell, Transmits the annals of this world as well. A century rolls and yet the raven lives, But no account of other ravens gives. 262 BIKCH-UOD DAYS The brute but knows its own small time and place, It has no knowledge of its kind or race. Man has no limit j he is not confined To races of the past. His well-stored mind Knows lore of former worlds and even then As well the present, too, for do not men Seek knowledge of the present, past, and read The future by the past its teachings heed? He cares to question Nature, ferret out Her secrets; not content to be in doubt. Serene forever, well content to stand The mountain is. Careless of beast or Man That comes or goes. It d >es not ask nor care, In all its thousand years, why it is there. The rills play down its sides ; the wild goat leaps O'er its wild crags, and 'round its rocky steeps ; It has no rival mountain, far or near, And does not wish to know why I am here. But Man, who dies to-morrow, tries the task To have these questions answered, and will ask Of all Creation's works for answer plain, The mysteries of living to explain. AND OTHER POEMS. && Will watch the growth of plants, still finding pleasure ; And in the tiniest flower a priceless treasure. For in created things there dwells a soul In trees, rocks, mountains, in the streams that roll Forever to the sea. 'Tis sweet to hear The music of the groves. Upon the ear The bird-notes fall but lightly yet they bear Soft soothing to the senses, like a prayer. The star-sown heavens declare Creation's gloiy. And Nature's varied charms repeat the story. He sings the glories of the heavenly throng , For him the silent stars attune their song; And o'er the face of Nature Man will throw Effulgent glory ; 'twill in beauty glow j He makes instructive, eloquent each part, So wise, so skillful, so sublime his art. Thus Man alone, how proud to bear the name, As Nature's sole interpreter may claim. 264 BIRCH-ROD DAYS XYI. Man, with all his wisdom, disobeys and wilfully transgresses the laws of his creator, and is punished. He has aspirations, also, to join God in that kingdom beyond this vale of of tears, and hope for more than earthly life. Aspiring Man ! The knowledge you possess Has also taught thee cunning, to transgress God's laws. Of God's created things For only Man his sinful nature brings, To curse the world. 'Mid sin and vice he gropes, And yet, through all, this strangest being hopes! The star of Bethlehem to earth came down Not to save beasts but Man, creation's crown. He came to save ; and so, thro' storm and night, Our timid eyes turn upward to the light. We scan the future, not with doubt and fear, But filled with hope of what shall yet appear. Beyond to starry worlds, o'er time and sense, Man leaps the boundaries to realms immense. His ardent spirit, calm and hopeful, longs When life is o'er to join supernal throngs. AND Ol'HEK POEMS. 265 XVII. Mao blesses God for the promise of immortal life, and hopes to be finally numbered with the just of God's creation, where he will ever praise the Giver of all. Man surely hath honor and glory here upon earth. Almighty God ! For what thy hand has given We bless thee ; Ruler of the earth and heaven. We praise thee for immortal life, and trust All men may yet be numbered with the just; We thank thee, Lord, for that enduring hope, As darkly thro' this earthly life we grope; We worship thee, our Father, for the word That tells thy promise Man shall be preferred. Oh, Hope ! that's long deferred, but ever still A star, a dazzling star, that always will Be guide of Man, poor Man upon the earth, Doomed, fated, sad, from very hour of birth; And when, at last, the heavenly voice shall speak And bid thee share the endless rest ye seek, Oh, be ye ready ! ever watchful, pray! For life's soon o'er, comes then the endless day. 266 BlUCH-ROD DAYS Oh, holy light ! Born of eternal years ! The blind shall know thee, yet rejoice in tears ! In heavenly home, beyond the starry skies, Man yet shall praise thee, Ruler, just and wise. Man surely hath' dominion, honor, here, Created Lord of earth, without a peer.