REESE LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA. 
 /2-<^ < iSu>. 
 
 Kioiis No.&f#-f%. CLiKNo. 
 
 / 
 
HOME: 
 
 FEMME HEROIC AND MISCELLANEOUS 
 
 POEMS. 
 
 BY 
 
 JESSEE H. BUTLER, 
 
 SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA. 
 
 BOSTON: 
 COLBY AND HIGH, 
 
 9 MONTGOMERY PLACE. 
 
 1875. 
 
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1874, 
 
 BY JESSEE II. BUTLER, 
 In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 
 
 STEKEOTYPED AT THE 
 BOSTON STEREOTYPE FOUNDRY, 
 
 19 Spring Lone. 
 
r cr THF 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 HOME: 
 
 Jtmme fjtroit 
 
 DEDICATED TO 
 
 MY BRIGHT PARTICULAR STAR. 
 
 1 None knew thee bat to love thee ; 
 None named thee but to praise." 
 
 FITZ-GKEENE HALLECK. 
 
PAGE 
 
 PREFACE 7 
 
 HOME. 
 
 INTRODUCTION 9 
 
 PART ONE 14 
 
 " TWO 26 
 
 " THREE 32 
 
 " FOUR 38 
 
 FIVE 44 
 
 SIX 50 
 
 " SEVEN 61 
 
 EIGHT 66 
 
 " NINE 72 
 
 TEN 76 
 
 EXPLANATORY NOTES 84 
 
 FEMME HEROIC 87 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 LITTLE BELL. . 115 
 
 TWENTY-ONE 117 
 
 A BIRD . 120 
 
 THE GRASS 121 
 
 THE COURIER 123 
 
 FRIENDSHIP 125 
 
 FAREWELL 127 
 
 MOTIVE , ... 129 
 
 SHADOWS 132 
 
 CUPID 133 
 
 PEACE 135 
 
 MY GARDEN 137 
 
 PASTORAL 140 
 
 5 
 
6 CONTENTS. 
 
 YOU AND I 143 
 
 OUR DAISY 147 
 
 EXCELSIOR H 8 
 
 OLD HOME 150 
 
 MUSIC 151 
 
 HYMN FOR THE FOURTH OF JULY 155 
 
 GROWING OLD 157 
 
 HANNIBAL DRAMAT1QUE 159 
 
 THE LAST TIME. . 161 
 
 ELMWOOD CEMETERY, DETROIT 103 
 
 FRATERNAL LOVE 106 
 
 IMMOBILIA 109 
 
 COMBINATION 171 
 
 WASHINGTON S BIRTHDAY 173 
 
 THE MARTYR 175 
 
 A CROCHET NEEDLE 177 
 
 GOD 178 
 
 REST. 180 
 
 MATER 186 
 
 REMINISCENCE 190 
 
 SPIRITUAL ANNIVERSARY SONG 193 
 
 CHRISTMAS 198 
 
 MY FLOWER GARDEN 200 
 
 EVENING 201 
 
 TRUST 204 
 
 GOING HOME 206 
 
 HANNIBAL . 208 
 
 HELL .211 
 
 PATRIA 213 
 
 IN MEMORIAM. . 217 
 
 DEATH .-219 
 
 WITHERED LEAVES 221 
 
 THE SABBATH 223 
 
 MY SISTER 225 
 
 THE MANIAC. . . .228 
 
 SNOW 231 
 
 PRINCE 233 
 
 THOU SLEEPEST NOT 336 
 
 ACROSTIC ,236 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 THE intelligent reader will discover no attempt- 
 at a Classical or an Heroic composition, or to imi 
 tate the higher flights of poetic rage, but only an 
 expression of the common mind, in unison with 
 Nature, animate and inanimate, and of the universal 
 Soul in its natural life, through all the common feel 
 ings and appreciations of the good, the true, and 
 the beautiful. 
 
 To the author, imitation would be dishonest and 
 disgraceful ; flattery would be despisable ; oracular 
 wisdom would be ridiculous ; and high-flown words 
 and phrases the evidence of a low taste. He, there 
 fore, like the lark, builds his nest on the dear old 
 
 7 
 
8 PREFACE. 
 
 Earth, as on the bosom of his mother ; and like the 
 same unassuming little bird, flutters upward, to 
 wards the sun, singing and trembling in his own 
 ecstasy, till exhausted, he falls back to his own 
 quiet, lowly, humble home, to listen to the loftier 
 songs of the thrush, the mocking-bird, or the 
 scream of the imperial eagle ! and then twitters to 
 his own heart, and to his dear companions " Are 
 
 we not brothers all ? ;; 
 
 J. II. BUTLER. 
 
OP THE 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 HOME. 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 YE heavenly powers, that float around 
 Where beauty dwells, and love is found ; 
 That paint the rose upon the face 
 Of the sweet blossoms of our race, 
 And give unto the youthful vow 
 The gentle eye, and earnest brow ; 
 That dip the flowers in every dye, 
 Shed by the day -king passing by ; 
 That scatter on the breezy swell 
 The spring and summer s fragrant smell; 
 And on the autumn s fullness paint 
 The dreams of many a raptured saint ! 
 That teach the bee, with honeyed lip, 
 The dew distilled in flowers to sip ; 
 That fly upon the eagle s wing, 
 And teach the skylark how to sing ; 
 
 9 
 
10 
 
 HOME. 
 
 That travel on the lightning s flash, 
 And revel in the thunder s crash ; 
 That sing through all the starry night, 
 And bring the sun s first beams of light ; 
 That send the cloudy, fleecy shade, 
 To temper noon s hot fierceness made, 
 And shake the liquid drops around 
 Upon the waiting, thirsty ground ; 
 Making the rivers overflow, 
 And buried seeds to sprout and grow ; 
 That on the winged south winds rove, 
 Clothing with life the naked grove ; 
 That scatter beauty s light below 
 The waves, that deep arid darkling flow ; 
 That stand upon the mountain s height, 
 And open to man s wondering sight 
 Alternate beauties, far and nigh, 
 Upon the earth, and in the sky I 
 And when on earth s illumined zone 
 The sun declines, beckon him home ; 
 Beckon him home, where Love s soft eye 
 Smileth to see his footsteps nigh ; 
 Beckon him home, where children cling 
 Around her neck who makes them sing ; 
 Where gentle words are passing round 
 From lip to lip, where love is found ; 
 Where Silence smiles serene and bright, 
 Blessing each happy inmate s sight ; 
 Where modest Sympathy is nigh, 
 To ease the toil, and check the sigh ; 
 
INTRODUCTION. \\ 
 
 And when dread Sorrow enters there, 
 To wipe the heavy falling tear ; 
 Where Innocence doth softly sleep, 
 And Sympathy doth often weep ; 
 Where Death has been, but left a trace, 
 On every heart of the dear face ; 
 Where words are spoken, soft and low, 
 Of those who sleep, where all must go ; 
 Where absent ones seem to draw near, 
 In Memory s blessed evening cheer, 
 And in the social, swelling song, 
 Their once loved strains still float along! 
 Where Hope springs up in every breast, 
 And whispers of the coming rest ; 
 Where absent ones shall all abide, 
 Close to each loving, dear one s side ; 
 Where love is bound not, but shall be 
 Like ocean s waters, full and free 1 
 Bring us, thou winged seraphim, 
 One strain from your overflowing hymn ; 
 And on it bid our spirits rise, 
 With thee, to view thy paradise 1 
 How sad the spirit, when have fled 
 Thy dreams from the poor aching head ! 
 But, full of hope and joy, is found 
 The heart that listens to the sound ! 
 Ocean ! let thy anthems roll 
 The song of praise into my soul ! 
 And when thy waves are lifted high, 
 Bid thou my wildest raptures fly ! 
 
12 HOME. 
 
 And thou, Earth ! prolong the strain, 
 
 And let thy winds declare His name, 
 
 Who hangs thee in the boundless sky, 
 
 There in tremendous speed to fly 
 
 Around thy central orb of light, 
 
 In ceaseless order, in His sight ! 
 
 When the wild winds and waters rest, 
 
 In the sweet moonlight may my breast 
 
 Be filled with softer songs of praise 
 
 To Him whose glory round me plays 
 
 In evening s concave, where I see 
 
 Some glimpses of Infinity ! 
 
 0, wondrous Night ! I here behold 
 
 Those lights that to my eyes unfold 
 
 His outside glory, who doth fill 
 
 The distant, deep, invisible ! 
 
 And yet He deigns to dwell below, 
 
 In the poor. glowworm s mimic glow; 
 
 And the small firefly shines as bright 
 
 As Venus, in her distant flight, 
 
 To Him who filleth all their fires 
 
 With His own glory ; and desires 
 
 All things created thus to shine, 
 
 In their own nature, all divine! 
 
 And gives to all, on every zone, 
 
 A proper place, a pleasant home. 
 
 Sweet Home of Love ! dear sacred spot ! 
 
 To whom shall fall that happy lot, 
 
 He need not envy pampered pride, 
 
 While Love sits smiling at his side : 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 He need not court the monarch s smile, 
 
 Whose heart receives the holy oil 
 
 Of sweet affection ; life to him 
 
 Is like the voice of seraphim, 
 
 That sings forever I like the sound 
 
 Of bubbling- fountains under ground. 
 
 He need not seek the vulgar crowd, 
 
 Where profanation, rank and loud, 
 
 Offends the ear ; but silence, sweet, 
 
 Floats round him, where the fond ones meet : 
 
 He needs no draught from Lethe s bowl 
 
 To drown the passions of the soul ; 
 
 But like the cloud that floats along, 
 
 Scatters his gems of love and song, 
 
 Refreshing hearts, that taint of sin 
 
 Hath crushed, and left them sorrowing. 
 
 He walks like Mary s Son of old, 
 
 Turning earth s desert sands to gold ; 
 
 And oft like Him, he weeps to know 
 
 That sin and sorrow reign below ; 
 
 Like Him, he gives his life to bless, 
 
 With living green, this wilderness. 
 
 0, sorrowing World ! one soul like this 
 
 Is like a constant stream of bliss, 
 
 Flowing and murmuring down thy plains 
 
 In dulcet tones of heaven s own strains I 
 
 One home of love on earth s sad face, 
 
 Shall glad the annals of a race ! 
 
 for a Nation filled with love ! 
 
 One favored Nation placed above 
 
14 HOME. 
 
 Dark hate, and scorn, and selfish lust ; 
 With motives hig % h above the dust ; 
 With human wants and human right, 
 Flaunted aloft in living light, 
 From every banner, on each dome ! 
 Heaven s winds shall whisper, " This is Home 
 
 PART I. 
 
 1. I VE wandered far, o er land and sea, 
 From scenes and friendships dear to me, 
 And sought for wealth in honest toil, 
 Mid busy din, and the turmoil 
 
 Of crowded cities, crowded full 
 
 Of wealth and commerce : wit and fool 
 
 Together mingle in the mart, 
 
 Fast friends, while gold doth bind the heart. 
 
 2. Fve dwelt amid the rural cots 
 
 In dimpled valleys ; lovely spots, 
 Where Nature srnileth evermore, 
 And giveth forth her golden store 
 To brawny arms and simple hearts, 
 That know not of the wily arts 
 Of Fashion, and its devotee, 
 And only native beauty see ! 
 
PART I. 15 
 
 3. I ve worshipped neath the aged oak ; 
 Joined the wild, solemn dirge which broke 
 The silence of the Sabbath air ; 
 
 And laid to rest the form, as fair 
 
 As lilies growing in the glade, 
 
 Where she had lived, and loved, and prayed ; 
 
 And sadly shed the parting tear, 
 
 Mingled with wild flowers on her bier 1 
 
 4. I ve brushed away the early dew, 
 Up where the mountain eagle flew ; 
 And watched in his majestic way 
 The gorgeous Monarch of the Day ; 
 Drank of the limpid mountain spring, 
 Up where the birds their matins sing ; 
 And viewed the smiling lowlands, spread 
 As lovely as an angel s bed ! 
 
 5. I ve floated on the Hudson s breast, 
 When, like a maiden it was drest 
 
 In wild flowers ; and with flowing hair, 
 Drooped on its banks the willow fair ; 
 The swallow kissed its dimpled face, 
 And swiftly passing, left a trace 
 Of blushing beauty, when the sun 
 His watchful course had almost run. 
 
 6. And when its waters calm did sleep, 
 And the soft moon looked down so deep 
 Into its silent, throbbing heart, 
 
 It sometimes seemed to dream, and start 
 
16 HOME. 
 
 With sudden motion, as the breeze 
 Crept stealthily among the trees ; 
 Like lovely Lucrece, when the door 
 Admitted Tarquin to her floor ! 1 
 
 7. Sleep on, sweet Hudson ! Thou shalt be 
 A bright, pure virgin stream, when she 
 And the fond poet cease to thrill 
 
 The human heart ; thou, thou shalt still 
 Flow on as placid then as now, 
 And nightly stars shall deck thy brow, 
 And the moon, smiling, tell to thee 
 The lover s vow of constancy ! 
 
 8. I ve seen the forked lightning play, 
 In flashing beauty, far away ; 
 Leaving its thunders rolling on 
 
 The mountain tops, when it had gone 
 To other lands ; like bolt of Jove, 
 Flaming in terror ; still to rove 
 Forever, round earth s circled zone, 
 While her eternal course shall run I 
 
 9. Fair Hudson, thou art beauty s queen I 
 Adown thy living banks is seen 
 
 The fisher s cot, in humble guise, 
 And on thy sloping lawns arise 
 The rural palace, like a gem 
 Sparkling in Nature s diadem I 
 And, built back in the ancient time, 
 The pointing spire, and house divine ; 
 
PART L 17 
 
 And all around its walls are spread 
 The crumbling emblems of the dead ; 
 For Time moves on, arid with his tooth 
 Eats out the words of love and truth ; 
 And they who bathed them with their tears 
 Sleep calm and still, beneath the years ! 
 
 10. How snug 1 and sweet the village home, 
 Where kindred s purest ties have grown 1 
 How lazily the smoke ascends 
 
 Amid the branching tree, that bends 
 
 Above the roof, where children sing, 
 
 Whose grandsires set the acorn in ! 
 
 Let Goldsmith sing sweet Auburn s praise, 
 
 In other lands, in other days ; 
 
 But in thy lovely vales are found 
 
 Scarce equalled in the wide world round 
 
 Sweet, quiet villages, that lie, 
 
 The fairest pearls beneath the sky ! 
 
 11. Thy Palisades, a fluted wall, 
 Breaking the sunny rays that fall, 
 In rippled silver, on thy breast, 
 Like some Plutonian city s crest, 
 Thrown up in a convulsive throb, 
 
 In spite, or sport, of that fierce God, 
 Stand out in beauty, full of grace, 
 To decorate thy lovely face ; 
 While mount on mount, and hill on hill, 
 Build up thy cloud-capped Katerskill ! 
 2 
 
18 HOME. 
 
 12. How graceful, on thy yielding breast, 
 Our floating palaces ! all drest 
 
 In playful streamers, in the breeze ; 
 And playful hearts, in joyous ease ; 
 And maidens fair, and lovers gay, 
 Dancing away the summer day 
 To music sweet ; while joyous mirth 
 Brings paradise to this fair earth I 
 
 13. A down thy ever-placid stream 
 
 Flow wealth and commerce, like a dream 
 In fancy bred ! Old Egypt s pride, 
 Fair Nilus, on her boasted tide, 
 Saw not thy grandeur ere she fell 
 Beneath the tyrant s withering spell ; 
 Yet in thy youth I sing of thee, 
 What shalt thou in the ages be ? 
 
 14. Sing, my Muse, the coming time ! 
 Sing of the grapes when turned to wine ! 
 Sing of the cradle passed away ! 
 
 Of starlight, lost in opening day ! 
 Of spring time, lost in summer flowers ! 
 Of summer, lost in clustered bowers, 
 Waiting the wine press ! Sing, 0, sing 
 Of eaglets mounted on the wing, 
 And looking from the distant skies, 
 Back where their nest so humble lies. 
 
 15. Sing of our Hudson, when old Time 
 Hath brought another century s chime I 
 
PART I. 19 
 
 When solitudes are peopled towns, 
 And millions fill the village rounds ; 
 When man and woman both shall be 
 Nurtured in love and liberty ; 
 When every soul shall claim its own, 
 And Justice give to all a home ! 
 
 16. Then shall thy waters gladly flow 
 To the old Ocean, down below, 
 And whisper in his aged ear 
 The secrets of the fond hearts near ; 
 And he shall clap his hands in glee I 
 And on the west wind s ecstasy, 
 His joy in thunder tones shall roll 
 To every freedom -loving soul ! 
 
 IT. I ve sauntered down thy pebbly stream, 
 Juniata ! and my dream 
 Was of the noblest Indian chief, 
 His pride, his glory, and his grief. 
 Twas here the haughty native roved, 
 And in thy waves the maid he loved 
 Bathed her lithe limbs, and in thy face 
 Viewed the last Queen of all her race : 
 And thus I seemed to hear her sing, 
 In tones as sweet as the carolling 
 Of the mocking-bird, that listened near, 
 These words, which fell upon my ear : 
 
 18. " Come, maidens, come to the river s banks, 
 And sing with me of the storied ranks 
 
20 HOME. 
 
 Of warriors brave, in the olden time, 
 With tomahawks bright from the distant mine ; 
 In countless crowds, like the forest leaves, 
 With colors bright 2 as the spirit weaves, 
 When his voice is hushed, and silence sings 
 Her songs of peace on the red-bird s wings ! 
 
 19. " Come, sing with me of the mingled chiefs, 
 While they passed around the pipe of peace ; 
 Of the passionate voice, 3 that rilled each soul, 
 (Like the lowering clouds that flash and roll! 
 With terrible fear ;) like the voice of death, 
 When the youthful warrior yields his breath ! 
 Though absent and silent, yet they roam 
 
 In happiness in the spirit home. 
 
 20. " They ve passed away, but they wander free 
 Where the maidens hearts are full of glee ; 
 Where the darting game is ever seen, 
 
 And the arrows speed in flashing sheen ; 
 And the plumed wings their brows adorn ; 
 And age shall not waste the manly form ; 
 Where the faithful dog is ever nigh, 
 Still watching to catch his master s eye. 
 
 21. " And the pale face hath not entered there 
 To fell the trees, or poison the air 
 
 With the blasting fever s 4 loathsome spell, 
 When friends whisper not the last farewell : 
 To give them the bowl that maddens the eye 
 With lust, and Hate s hot passions, that fly 
 
PART I. 21 
 
 Like arrows of. death, till maiden and brave 
 Have passed in crowds to death and the grave ! 
 
 22. " Come, let us be joyful, blithe, and gay ! 
 We know that our tribes are passing away ; 
 We know that the red men shall not return ; 
 No more the council-fires shall burn 
 
 On the Juniata s craggy banks ; 
 
 No more shall be seen the circling ranks 
 
 Of visiting warriors, gaily plumed, 
 
 To notes of revenge and victory tuned ! 
 
 23. "But the tribes that hence have passed away, 
 Are only waiting for those that stay ; 
 
 Are only waiting to see them come 
 To the happy Indian s deathless home ! 
 Where the fleet-footed youths the flowers shall 
 
 bring 
 
 That grow in the ever-budding spring 
 Of the spirit land ; to the maids who sing 
 Like the birds that there are carolling ! " 
 
 24. Flow on, clear river ! I would be 
 As thoughtless of the past as thee ; 
 But in my heart the mountains lie 
 
 Of childhood ; back to them I fly ! 
 Thine, thine forever round thee tower, 
 As close as in thy natal hour ! 
 And when in kindred dust I lie, 
 Shall point man upward to the sky 
 
22 HOME. 
 
 25. Broad Mississippi ! I have been 
 Where thy bold rocky banks are seen ; 
 Presenting to the traveller s eye 
 Enchantment, as he passeth by I 
 
 And on thy distant waters viewed 
 (To him with ancient lore imbued, 
 Impressing on his mind the walls 
 Of Petra, where the sunlight falls 
 
 26. In fiercer floods ; ) insculptured heights, 
 Strange, wonderful as fairy flights ; 
 Columns 5 made by the mighty hand 
 
 Of Him who built the ocean strand ; 
 Laughing to scorn man s labored shrine, 
 That crumbles neath the wheels of Time ; 
 Teaching to man, on every stone, 
 How transient every earthly home ! 
 
 2*7. I ve seen the marshes, wide and low, 
 Through which thy tributaries flow, 
 Yielding the golden-colored grain, 6 
 That waves in beauty on each plain ; 
 Waves rank and tall, beyond compare 
 In northern climes ; where purer air 
 Giveth to man a better boon, 
 When north winds sing their winter tune. 
 
 28. Thy lofty heights, where Vicksburg towers, 
 Are peaceful now as smiling bowers ; 
 But yesterday those heights were filled 
 With Treason s whelps, whose engines killed 
 
PART I. 23 
 
 The sons of Liberty, and fed 
 Thy waters with her youthful dead I 
 Ah, let them sleep ! the young arid brave, 
 Forever, neath thy yellow wave ! 
 
 29. But twas not long, for Treason fell 
 At sound of Freedom s natal bell ! 7 
 And when her Eagle noised it round, 
 The foemen s tracks were only found 
 Receding from the generous stream, 
 Leaving alone the horrid dream, 
 
 A troubled nightmare of the past, 
 Where tyrants cursed hosts are cast ! 
 
 30. Fair, smiling Peace ! forever dwell 
 Where those great waters flow and swell ; 
 Let peaceful millions line each shore, 
 And every tributary pour 
 
 Its varied products to the marts 
 That send them to the distant parts 
 On wings of commerce, blessing all 
 The homes built on the earth s wide ball ! 
 
 31. Thou unborn Future ! oft we sigh 
 
 To pierce thee with the prophet s eye I 
 To view thy conquests in the land 
 Favored by Nature s lavish hand. 
 All climes are here from icy death, 
 To the fierce summer s hottest breath ; 
 Thy northern sons vex wintry mines, 
 While thy long southern summer shines 
 
24 HOME. 
 
 32. Ripening the richest fruits of earth ; 
 And plumed warblers issue forth, 
 With gushing rapture, on each tree, 
 Swelling the song of praise. To Thee, 
 Father ! all things living tend 
 
 To swell that song that ne er shall end ; 
 And most of all, Thy praise is shown, 
 Where man hath found a happy Home. 
 
 33. How sweet the moonbeams gently rest 
 At midnight on thy yielding breast, 
 
 In rippled silver, soft and light, 
 Playing like childhood, in the sight 
 Of the maternal love, whose eye 
 Alone can see the gems that lie 
 In the young spirit, through the face 
 That makes her home a happy place ! 
 
 34. Well, let your orange blossoms blow ; 
 Let man, for lucre eager, go 
 
 To pluck the fruits ; let fleecy flowers 8 
 Tempt Mammon from ancestral bowers ; 
 Let Commerce, with her countless sails, 
 Seek wealth amid the southern gales ; 
 But let me dwell in the mild zone 
 That bounds my blessed native Home ! 
 
 Home is home, though poor and rude ; 
 Home is more than house and food : 
 
PART I. 25 
 
 Home can never be expressed, 
 Till the soul has found its rest. 
 Home is transient here below, 
 And its term we cannot know : 
 It is like the sun s last ray, 
 Djang with departing day. 
 Home is like the robin s nest, 
 Now in downy feathers drest, 
 But to-morrow nowhere found, 
 In the air or on the ground. 
 Home is like the ship at sea, 
 Sailing on eternally ; 
 Oft the anchor forth we cast, 
 But can never make it fast. 
 Home is like the bluebird s wing 
 Fluttering in the breath of spring, 
 Seeking for some quiet nook, 
 Near the pebbly, purling brook. 
 Home is never rounded out ; 
 There s always fear, always doubt. 
 Joy is sliort, but sorrow long, 
 And groans are heard in every song. 
 Home is sweet when love is there, 
 Breathing perfume on the air I 
 And the fairest flowers below, 
 Underneath Love s sunshine grow I 
 Home is like the ocean deep, 
 Where the fairest treasures sleep ; 
 Brightest gems lie sparkling there, 
 Pearls and rubies, rich and rare I 
 
26 HOME. 
 
 Pearls of purity and grace, 
 Dwell within the sacred place ! 
 Ruby love, of ruddy hue, 
 Courses every veinlet through I 
 Like a stream Love s waters flow ; 
 Or like Morning s fairest glow. 
 And Love s streamlets ever come 
 Back to rest in Love s own Home ! 
 
 PART II. 
 
 35. WINDING Ohio ! thou art set 
 Where hostile armies oft have met, 
 And Freedom trembled on the beam 
 Where thy unceasing waves are seen : 
 Oppression could not hedge thy tide 
 While Freedom smiled on yonder side 
 Smiled like a Goddess ! bidding come 
 The panting bondman to her home ! 
 
 36. Rejoice, River ! Let thy waves 
 Roll their glad music in thy caves ; 
 And on thy spreading sycamore, 
 Let the wild eagle boasting pour 
 His screaming, daring notes abroad 1 
 While humbler warblers on the sod 
 
PART II. 21 
 
 Take up his notes in softer strains, 
 
 For on each shore glad Freedom reigns I 
 
 37. Upon thy smiling banks are seen 
 The dense, dark cedars, ever green, 
 Bending their matted branches low, 
 Inviting Winter s purest snow 
 
 To form a lovely robe of white 
 Upon the mountain s towering height, 
 And nestling round the cottage door, 
 Like friendship, constant, fadeless, pure. 
 
 38. And the sweet apple-blossoms blow 
 In beauty where thy waters flow, 
 Flinging their odors on the breeze, 
 When youthful Spring invades the trees ; 
 And the gay peach-blows cluster there, 
 Offering to the industrious care 
 
 Of the sweet insect honeyed store, 
 Till his filled labyrinth runneth o er. 
 
 39. The cornfield spreadeth down thy plains, 
 Long, low, and wide, while Summer reigns, 
 Maturing ncath the sun s hot rays, 
 
 And quaffing in the dew, that plays 
 Among its long, extending leaves, 
 While midnight, in her cunning, weaves 
 The gentle drops that slowly sink 
 Into the stalk, that it may drink. 
 
28 HOME. 
 
 40. Then the rich, yellow grains appear, 
 In the long Autumn of the year, 
 Promising food when north winds blow, 
 And the old Ice King reigns below ! 
 And the ripe fruit divides the care 
 
 Of the glad husbandmen, who share 
 With beast and fowl abundant gains, 
 And Plenty in the cottage reigns. 
 
 41. Thy wood-clad mountains smiling stand, 
 Inviting man s industrious hand 
 
 To vex their sides, and take away 
 The food 10 that makes the engines play 
 Upon the broad-faced stream below, 
 Making the rapid commerce flow 
 From north to south, from east to west, 
 Till every clime is amply blest ; 
 
 42. Inviting man to fell the trees, 
 And every passing eye to please 
 
 With fruit, and flower, and lowing kine, 
 And fleecy flocks ; till coming time 
 Presents the pleasing, wondrous change, 
 In all the vast, extended range n 
 Of the old River ; thickly strewn 
 Millions, who sing the Song of Home ! 
 
 43. I ve floated on thy tranquil breast, 
 In the sweet Sabbath s quiet rest, 
 
 And wondered when the years roll by 
 If Memory s speedy wings shall fly 
 
PART II. 29 
 
 Back to the scenes that charmed me then, 
 And paint upon my straining ken 
 Thy gorgeous sunsets, 12 calm and grand, 
 Inviting to the spirit land ! 
 
 44. Wondered if Time s swift, silent feet 
 Shall spare my fading eyes, to meet 
 The pleasing views that spread around, 
 The mossy bank, the grassy mound ; 
 The nestling cot, the sacred dome ; 
 The hanging rock, lofty and lone ; 
 The busy hands forming each stone 
 
 To grace some neighboring City Home ; 
 
 45. The moving craft, that up and down, 
 Look like some floating, busy town, 
 Greeting, with an unearthly scream, 
 Each other with the voice of steam ; 
 Bearing their living freight, to rest 
 In the wild silence of the West ; 
 
 Or bringing fond ones, eager, prone, 
 To rest in the old Eastern Home I 
 
 46. Wondered if, on some boat s high deck, 
 Gazing on some projecting wreck, 
 
 My thoughts shall bring the pleasant time, 
 When on thy waves those friends of mine 
 Were bland and free, anxious to see 
 The changing scenes, pointing to me 
 Nature and Art, in pleasing view, 
 In tones of friendship, kind and true ; 
 
30 HOME. 
 
 41. Wondered if, on the wide expanse 
 Of the old Ocean, I might chance 
 To taste its briny, liquid flow, 
 And think of crystals, 13 white as snow, 
 Distilled from thy deep well-springs there, 
 Where rising flames invade the air 
 Like fiery mountains, day and night, 
 Dispensing far a beacon light ! 
 
 48. But all Earth s pleasures pass away, 
 Like the last lingering purple ray 
 Of Evening s glory. 0, how soon 
 The smile of love is lost in gloom ! 
 And when the pulse of hope beats high, 
 Its cherished objects quickly fly ; 
 And like a solemn, funeral knell, 
 Sounds the fond, parting word Farewell 
 
 Soft and low, sad and sweet, 
 Glide away friendly feet ; 
 Soft and sweet greetings fall 
 Where Love s words fondly call. 
 Sadness reigns when we see 
 Fond ones fade, droop, and flee ; 
 Tenderest, dearest, saddest spell, 
 When we say Fare ye well ! 
 
 Press them close, hold them fast ; 
 It may be quite the last 
 
Look of love, word of love 
 
 In the bower, in the grove ! 
 
 Listen deep, listen still, 
 
 Let thy ear take its fill ; 
 
 Deeply drink, it is well, 
 
 Ere thou say st Fare thee well I 
 
 Sun s first rays drink the dew ; 
 Young Love smiles, bright and true ; 
 Childhood smiles, sweet and fair, 
 Without guile, without care ; 
 Friendship true, friendship sweet, 
 Dwells in hearts warm and deep ; 
 None can know, none can tell 
 Who shall first bid Farewell ! 
 
 Lovers young, lovers gay, 
 Quickly fade, pass away ; 
 Eyes of love, life and light, 
 Fade away from our sight ; 
 What is life ? What are we ? 
 And, alas I what shall we be ? 
 Who can guess, who can tell, 
 After we have said Farewell ? 
 
 Mystery dark, mystery deep 1 
 Like a God, fast asleep, 
 Slumbers on, evermore ; 
 While we cry, o er and o er 
 " Wake, 0, wake 1 We would be 
 Taught of thee, Mystery ! " 
 
32 HOME. 
 
 Still he sleeps, and Time s bell 
 Swings and tolls " Fare thee well 
 
 Work and wait, work and sing ; 
 
 Work without, work within. 
 
 All things change ; nought can die ! 
 
 Work for all, work to-day ; 
 
 Pray and work, work and pray. 
 
 The result old Time shall tell, 
 
 After thou hast said Farewell. 
 
 Dearest souls, fondest friends, 
 Never die ! Life but ends, 
 Like the day, soon to rise 
 Glorious in the eastern skies I 
 Cheer up, heart ! sing away ! 
 Midnight is approaching day ! 
 And the last, sad, feeble groan 
 Ushers in the Endless Home ! 
 
 PART III. 
 
 49. DEAR Childhood s Home I I cannot see 
 One spot, upon the land or sea, 
 So bright, so beautiful, so free, 
 So sweet, so full of love, as thee I 
 Thy hill-sides drink a purer dew, 
 And from their tops my eyes would view 
 
PART III. 33 
 
 The loveliest stream that ever lay 
 Mid flowers, to tempt the God of Day I 
 
 50. I doubt not that the Grecian band 
 Shed tears, when on the distant strand 
 Of the old sea, that washed their land, 14 
 And shouting, clasped each other s hand I 
 Shed tears which danger could not draw ; 
 Which circling foemen never saw ; 
 
 Shed only o er the sleeping brave 
 At midnight, when around his grave ! 
 
 51. 0, why doth Nature bind so fast 
 The soul of man to the young past ? 
 Make him a child when Memory brings 
 Young life upon her golden wings ? 
 And why doth Fortune s brightest hour, 
 Still paint, with a resistless power, 
 The holiest star in heaven s wide dome, 
 A beacon to his Native Home ! ? 
 
 52. The bitterest cup of Sorrow s night 
 Grows sweeter by the blessed light 
 Of other days ; but sad and dark 
 The wanderer s lot, if on his heart 
 There cometh not his mother s kiss, 
 His father s smile. ! give him this 
 When sorrow clings, and dangers come ; 
 Then he can smile, and think of Home ! 
 
 3 
 
34 HOME. 
 
 53. Ah ! sadly have I viewed the grave 
 Of him who crossed the distant wave ; 
 And wondered if the dying groan 
 
 Was hushed when visions came of home ! 
 Like the chafed spirit on the rock, 
 Who, dying, heard the battle s shock ; 
 And in the gorgeous, filmy trance, 
 Cheered on the warrior sons of France I 
 
 54. He could not die an exile there, 
 
 He who the cannon s mouth could dare, 
 He could not die until his dream 
 Brought back his lovely Josephine j 
 And in her eye beholdeth he 
 The flower of Gallic chivalry ! 
 Prophetic chieftain, 15 every bone 
 Shall rest in thy Adopted Home ! 
 
 55. Sweet child of Israel s later years, 
 Child of his Rachel, and his tears, 
 Fond prattler to thy brethren s ears, 
 Exciting thus their jealous fears ; 
 What gave thee comfort in the pit ? 
 What made thee for thy station fit ? 
 Thy vision saw the patriarch come, 
 To rest in thy Abundant Home ! 
 
 56. Thou ancient singer, Jesse s son ! 
 
 What prompted thee when thou didst run, 
 
 And challenge to the fatal fight 
 
 Yon spearman, 16 in his towering height ? 
 
PART ///. 35 
 
 A lamb unto the lion sent : 
 What to thy heart, the valor lent 
 Unequalled, when that small, smooth stone 
 Entered thy sling ? ; Twas God and Home ! 
 
 57. And thou, Jesus ! lovelier still ; 
 Thou chief of men, through every ill j 
 The great Exemplar. Sad and lone, 
 Despised, rejected by Thine own ; 
 Didst love them still, and walk about 
 Jerusalem ; still casting out 
 
 Their demons ; Thou didst sadly groan 
 O er Lazarus, and his vacant Home ! 
 
 58. Thou Holy One, and full of grace ; 
 Thou purest, tenderest of the race ; 
 Thou Incarnation of our God ! 
 Homeless Thy weary footsteps trod ; 
 Thou Medium, binding to the throne 
 The erring ones by thy sad moan ; 
 Thou meek, mild Lamb of God, alone, 
 
 Leadest the weary sinner Home 1 
 
 f 
 
 59. In thy last hour, a helpless one 
 Gave to the cross the sweetest son 
 That ever blest a mother s heart ; 
 And in that hour thou couldst not part 
 From her thou lovedst till thou hadst won 
 For her a sympathizing son ; 1T 
 
 Till on her future Thou hadst thrown 
 A flower, to blossom in her Home I 
 
36 HOME. 
 
 Sad and weary, pure and holy, 
 
 Fading from the earth away ; 
 Full of grace, so still and lowly, 
 
 Brightest of the sons of day ! 
 Weeping for the broken-hearted ; 
 
 Giving back the widow s child ; 
 Shedding tears o er the departed ; 
 
 Calm, content, and meek, and mild ! 
 
 Teacher of earth s poor and erring ; 
 
 Sympathizing with their woes ; 
 Loving all, but none compelling ; 
 
 Weeping o er thy bitterest foes j 
 Wandering in the desert sadly ; 
 
 Poor, and in the tempter s power ; 
 And where demons torture madly, 
 
 Scattering Love s own precious dower 
 
 Standing on the rugged mountain, 
 
 Where the poor and needy meet ; 
 Giving them, from Love s own fountain, 
 
 Living waters, pure and sweet ! 
 Still beseeching, never cursing ; 
 
 Lifting up the bruised reed ; 
 And the shorn lambs kindly nursing, 
 
 Binding up the hearts that bleed. 
 
 Dropping in the furrowed ages 
 Seeds that shall to beauty grow ; 
 
 Blossoming on endless pages, 
 
 Flowers of truth, like purest snow ! 
 
PART ///. 37 
 
 What to Thee were wealth and station, 
 
 Or the tribute honor brings ? 
 What the homage of a nation, 
 
 Men s applause, or praise of kings ? 
 
 ; Twas alone the Father s blessing 
 
 Could thy heart with rapture fill ; 
 And to Him thy prayer addressing, 
 
 Mid all pain thy heart was still. 
 When the world s unholy clamor 
 
 Culminates its loudest din, 
 Faith descries Truth s pure, white banner, 
 
 Far above the plains of sin. 
 
 Thou, Jesus ! still art smiling 
 
 Through the mighty clouds of earth ; 
 While below our feet are toiling, 
 
 Hasting to the spirit birth. 
 Sing, sing ! ye bright immortals ; 
 
 Sing His goodness and His love ! 
 When ye ope for us life s portals, 
 
 We will join your choir above ! 
 Sing, Earth ! the coming glory 
 
 Glimmers in the eastern sky U 
 And the coming Christ, so holy, 
 
 Through the vista draweth nigh I 
 
38 HOME. 
 
 PART IV. 
 
 60. HOME, sweetest music to the ear I 
 Its cadence doth the pathway cheer 
 Mid deserts, where the hot sands burn 
 The traveler s feet. There he doth turn 
 His longing eyes to the old scenes, 
 And sleeping, fondly in his dreams 
 Drinks from the trickling mountain spring, 
 And hears the song his loved ones sing I 
 
 61. And in the city s busy throng, 
 Its mirth, its revelry, and song, 
 Its dissipation and its cant, 
 
 Mid all its flowers, a foreign plant, 
 He bloometh not, till Friendship find 
 A sympathetic, kindred mind ; 
 Till this within his heart doth bloom, 
 His spirit sighs for love and Home ! 
 
 62. Hail, magic charm I fond Childhood s bliss \ 
 The father s smile, the mother s kiss ; 
 
 The brother s laugh, the sister s love ; 
 The new life, cooing like a dove ; 
 The present of the painted toy, 
 That fills the little cup with joy ; 
 Here, in the budding soul, is sown 
 The seed that groweth up to Home I 
 
PART IV. 39 
 
 63. Then happy school days coming on, 
 When buds have into blossoms grown, 
 How proudly doth the satchel gay, 
 When goeth he to school away, 
 Hang on his arm I As proud as shield 
 On warrior s arm in tented field 1 
 And soon he tireth, and is prone 
 
 To seek his supper and his Home. 
 
 64. Then Manhood, with its dreams and hopes, 
 Painteth to him a day that opes 
 
 In splendor ; brightly luring on 
 The dreamer ; passing, one by one, 
 . The enchanting projects, till the day 
 Is lengthened, and they ve passed away ! 
 Then weary, sad, dejected, lone, 
 He thinketh of the good old Home I 
 
 65. Then hoary age, the resting-time, 
 Cometh apace ; and he doth pine 
 For good and true ones gone to rest, 
 Leaving the weary one ; who pressed, 
 So often, in the days gone by, 
 
 The gentle forms, which oft did lie 
 Upon his breast. I ve heard thee groan, 
 Age I and vainly sigh for Home I 
 
 66. Is this the sum of human life ? 
 
 The changing passions and their strife ? 
 The anxious struggles, ceasing not, 
 Through all the human, common lot ? 
 
40 HOME. 
 
 The toilsome haste, the tasteless goal, 
 That satisfieth not the soul ? 
 Earth hath not, on her lengthened zone, 
 One constant, happy, changeless Home ! 
 
 6T. Author of life, birth, youth, and age ; 
 Of Nature, filling every page 
 With motion, constant change, decay ; 
 Hope in its birth, like opening day ; 
 Joy in its youth, that swelling joy ! 
 ! why should Time its bliss destroy ? 
 In age tis past; ambition high, 
 Filleth the fond, aspiring eye ; 
 
 68. Through all, kind Nature leadeth on 
 Her children, till the race is run ; 
 Leadeth them on to Thee : to Thee, 
 Father ! every flower I see 
 Blossoms to Thee ! and I would bloom 
 In fragrance, for the living boon ; 
 Scattering the odor of thy love 
 
 On others, leading them above ; 
 
 69. Above, beyond Earth s passing show ; 
 Its pleasures, coming but to go 
 More quickly ; like the painted fly, 
 Maturing long, quickly to die ; 
 Above the miser s grasping care, 
 Who keepeth back the brother s share, 
 And heapeth up the yellow dust, 
 
 Till he becomes a thing accurst ! 
 
PART IV. 41 
 
 70. Earth yieldcth, from her swelling breast, 
 Abundance ; and her sons are blest 
 With roots, and herbs, and crystal spring ; 
 With flower, and shrub, and birds that sing ; 
 With spreading tree, and verdant sod ; 
 With mountains, pointing up to God ; 
 With oceans, bearing to each shore 
 
 Their precious burdens evermore I 
 
 71. When, like the ocean, shall each soul 
 Be freighted for the common whole ? 
 When shall each generous impulse flow 
 To other hearts, till each shall grow 
 
 In other s welfare ; running on 
 
 In harmony, and all be one ? 
 
 Till then the God within shall sleep, 
 
 And the great brotherhood shall weep ; 
 
 72. Till then shall vainly, meanly rise 
 Man s hateful incense to the skies ! 
 Angels shall weep, and fly above 
 To regions where the air is love ! 
 Up where the miser dwelleth not ; 
 Where all have but one common lot, 
 One common joy ! 0, bring us this, 
 Ye spirits, from the realms of bliss ! 
 
 73. Till this, sweet Bethlehem s song in vain 
 Gave man the noblest, sweetest strain 
 That ear hath heard, or choir hath sung ! 
 Thou loving Jesus ! then shall come 
 
42 HOME. 
 
 Thy Father s kingdom on the earth, 
 And man obtain his second birth ! 
 Then war shall cease, and discord then 
 Forsake the happy homes of men. 
 
 74. Then Justice shall forsake the rod, 
 And man shall do the will of God ; 
 Men after idols shall not stray, 
 But walk forever in the way 
 Of justice, peace, contentment sweet, 
 And equal, men together meet 
 Around the hearth, around the throne 
 Of God, and earth shall be a Home ! 
 
 There s a voice in the breeze when the storm has 
 
 passed by, 
 
 And it speaks to the soul in a murmuring sigh 1 
 >Tis mingled with notes of the orphan s sad moan, 
 And the widow s refrain hath a tear arid a groan ! 
 
 There s a centuried oak, which the firebolt hath 
 
 torn, 
 And his glory hath fled on the wings of the 
 
 storm ; 
 And the green fruit lies low neath the hurricane s 
 
 breath ; 
 And beauty lies still in the silence of death ! 
 
PART IV. 43 
 
 There s a story of old, that the tyrant hath writ ; 
 And the raven and owl o er the past ages flit : 
 And woman s sad tear, and the patriot s blood, 
 Rise an incense, and call for the justice of God ! 
 
 There s an inner light shines in the spirit so deep, 
 Like the star that burns on, while the lower world 
 
 sleep ! 
 
 It shall never grow dim till the morning appears, 
 And fair Justice looms forth in the fullness of years ! 
 
 And the time hastens on when love s flowers shall 
 
 bloom, 
 
 Like the spirit that smiles o er the sepulcher s gloom ; 
 And all hearts shall be glad when the sunlight falls 
 
 through, 
 With its outspreading heaven opened full on the 
 
 view ! 
 
 . 
 
 Then the nations shall .rise, like the birds in the 
 
 spring, 
 And the wide world shall chorus the songs that they 
 
 sing ! 
 
 Then Passion shall sleep in the silence of death, 
 And Virtue shall breathe in the rose s sweet breath I 
 Then Beauty shall sparkle in every glad eye, 
 And each spirit shall feel that a brother is nigh ; 
 Then the life-drops shall flow through each pulsating 
 
 vein, 
 Like the music of love in its merriest strain ! 
 
44 HOME. 
 
 ! tis coming, His coming ! I hear the bells ring I 
 It comes like swift love on the carrier dove s wing ! 
 The good time is coming, and soon we shall see 
 Its waves rolling on, like an infinite sea ! 
 
 PART V. 
 
 75. SAGES and prophets, men of thought, 
 By whom the Holy Spirit wrought 
 Wonders of old, wept bitter tears, 
 Fasted and prayed through lingering years 
 In poverty, hatred, and scorn ; 
 Despised, imprisoned, and forlorn ; 
 Mournful, and sad, dejected, lone ; 
 Earth s truest children had no home. 
 
 76. The men who reared each lofty tower 
 Were slaves, compelled by men of power 
 To drag their weary lirnbs, and bear 
 The burdens. Wealth has everywhere 
 Bound down, held firmly down, in chains 
 The millions ; hoarding up its gains 
 
 To still oppress them. Hath it not, 
 In the long by-gone, been the blot 
 
 77. Of ages ? Hath it not bound down 
 The common mind ? Doth it not frown 
 
PART K 45 
 
 Upon its victim, vaunting still 
 
 The power of wealth to bind the will 
 
 In chains of fashion ? stronger far 
 
 On sons of poverty than are 
 
 The ties of kindred ? froth and foam 
 
 Usurp, where else might be a Home. 
 
 78. 0, simple Truth ! how seldom seen 
 
 Thy star, where wealth and pride have been ! 
 
 0, smiling Love ! still dwellest thou 
 
 Upon the unassuming brow 
 
 Of sweet contentment, where the soul 
 
 Seeketh a higher, better goal 
 
 Thau imitation s servile lot, 
 
 For love makes home in lowly cot. 
 
 79. Princes and slaves that boon have sought 
 In Luxury s surfeit, which hath brought 
 Disease, and pain, and lingering death ; 
 In servile fawning, which hath left 
 
 The narrow soul a slave to sin ; 
 High thoughts and aims cannot come in 
 The heart when man a slave hath grown ; 
 Such live and die without a Home. 
 
 80. Proud Caius, battling for his land, 
 Beat back the Volscians, and his hand 
 Brought victory ; peace and plenty reigned ; 
 But envy baited, till he stained 
 
 His honor, and he fled away 
 
 From those he loved, to those who slay 
 
46 HOME. 
 
 His kindred. 0, how fierce the ire ! 
 Tis like resistless, flaming fire, 
 
 81. When kindred light the torch of hate, 
 Grow mad, and tempt the dregs of fate : 
 Brother with brother strives for blood, 
 Forgetting country, home, and God ; 
 Bringing afresh the mother s pains, 
 And covering honor o er with stains : 
 Thou, noble Roman, 18 didst become 
 
 Its victim, losing life and home 1 
 
 82. Sad exiles wander through the earth, 
 Longing for lands that gave them birth ; 
 Pride, poverty, and stubborn will 
 Holding them back, mid every ill ; 
 While smiling hope covers the dart 
 That enters many a broken heart ; 
 Broken and sad, because alone, 
 
 Far distant from the happy home ! 
 
 83. Thou rugged Alps ! thou land of Tell ! 
 Thy mountain sons remember well 
 Where beauty, love, and freedom dwell I 
 Up where the mountain horn doth swell 
 Its cheerful echoes, warning back 
 
 His brothers to the chamois track ; 
 And though thy children often roam, 
 ? Tis brief ; for love doth call them home ! 
 
PART V. 47 
 
 84. Sons of the forest ! ye have fled 
 The graves of your ancestral dead ; 
 Left the grand rivers, on whose banks 
 The ancient chiefs surveyed the ranks 
 Of the young warriors, chafing there 
 For battle, chanting the war prayer 
 
 To the Great Spirit I No more shall come 
 The red man to his ancient home ! 
 
 85. Old Niger ! I would sing of thee ! 
 Soon shall thy children roam as free 
 As proud Europa s daring sons ! 
 
 Free as the native lion runs 
 
 In thy vast forests ; and thy throng 
 Shall join the universal song 
 Of the redeemed That song shall be 
 The God in Man, and all men free ! 
 
 86. Land of the legend and the loch ! 
 Of him 19 who all the echoes woke 
 
 Of thy famed hills ; sent through the earth 
 Thy beauty ; gave the noble worth 
 Of thy brave sons to every shore ; 
 Thy glory in the days of yore ! 
 What bonny Scotsman e er did roam, 
 Who longed not for his native home ? 
 
 87. That sings not with his Bobby Burns 
 His lovely Mary ? While he earns 
 His daily pittance, there doth dwell 
 Within his heart the tones that swell 
 
48 HOME. 
 
 Upon the craggy mountain top, 
 Bagpipe and clarion, till each rock 
 Is vocal with the sounding joy, 
 And home is round the whilom boy 1 
 
 88. Green Erin ! I have seen thy son 
 
 In distant lands ; with him have sung 
 The exile s song ; soothed the sad man 
 With hope, until his soul began 
 To swell with better thoughts ; till he 
 Was filled with love for home arid thee I 
 I ve sadly read the mournful stone 
 Where sleeps thy child, far, far from home 
 
 89. ! Island of the Emerald hue ! 
 Well may thy sons, to nature true, 
 Long for thy hill-sides and thy plains, 
 Thy meadows and thy flowery lanes, 
 Thy rivers and enchanting lakes, 
 Where silence into music breaks, 
 Mid rippling murmurs, soft among 
 
 The rocks and trees, that swell the song ! 
 
 90. Why do ye roam, 0, favored race I 
 To distant lands, from such a place ? 
 Can ye not live where God is seen, 
 On every hand, in living green ? 
 Where brightness smiles in every eye, 
 And loving friends are ever nigh ? 
 Hath Fate s relentless fiat sown 
 
 The seeds of exile in your home ? 
 
PART V. 49 
 
 91. Ah, bootless hate ! 20 0, pious fraud ! 
 Dear native land and loving God 
 Are made obscure by Passion s ire, 
 And seen a fierce, consuming fire ! 
 Father, send thy spirit there, 
 And thy poor suffering children spare ; 
 Let peace and love, at thy command, 
 Rejuvenate that lovely land ! 
 
 Prophet ! rise, And fix thy eyes 
 On the towers of the coming paradise ! 
 The day is near, Tis almost here, 
 When Truth, like a beacon star, shall appear ! 
 
 Ashes of Rome, On the Tiber strewn, 
 Ye are not lost on the salt sea foam ; 
 The phoenix shall rise, Where the ember lies, 
 And thy glory shall come when the darkness dies. 
 
 Thy heroes still, Through every ill, 
 Look down in their love, on each classical hill ; 
 Thy sun shall yet come, From the ocean foam, 
 Arid thy children shall sing in the chorus of Ilome ! 
 
 The exile shall rest, When the Star of the West 
 Hath inspired every land with her beautiful crest ; 
 When her glory shall be, That the nations are free, 
 And one flag floats supreme over every sea I 
 
 Then mountain and vale, Shall fling on the gale 
 The love of their sons, on each far-freighted sail ; 
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52 HOME. 
 
 Where man resides, all that ye can 
 Of Nature s grace, in every plan ; 
 Make wide the streets, extend the ground, 
 Let fruit, and shrub, arid flower be found ; 
 ; Tis these that make, wherever strewn, 
 For man the loveliest, happiest home ! 
 
 97. Ye gentle flowers, of every hue, 
 That drink refreshing, nightly dew, 
 When the bright sun hath passed away, 
 Until his morning glories play 
 
 Upon the hills, along the vales, 
 
 And on the merry flapping sails, 
 
 Come, fill our homes with your sweet sighs, 
 
 And bid us dream of Paradise ! 
 
 98. England ! every path I tread, 
 Where er my wandering feet are led, 
 And every bank, on every side, 
 And every flowing, limpid tide, 
 And every ancient mossy tower, 
 
 Are blest with many a fragrant flower ! 
 He who hath made thy mild, sw^et air, 
 Hath planted seeds of beauty there ! 
 
 99. Thy ample parks stretch far and wide, 
 With vale and hill on every side ; 
 While shaded lakes and copses green 
 Together dwell, and oft is seen 
 
 The soaring crow, and busy bee 
 Upon the flower, upon the tree ; 
 
PART VI. 53 
 
 Fit types of those who stroll around, 
 And those who toil upon the ground. 
 
 100. Ancestral glories ! ye are fair 
 
 As Fancy s flights ; beyond compare 
 In other lands, where earth is young 
 And man is free, where songs are sung 
 In youthful glee, bold and sublime, 
 Painting the happy coming time ; 
 But 0, where Luxury s flowers are strewn, 
 There s room for many a happy home ! 
 
 101. 0, favored land ! thy balmy air 
 Gives man the rosy cheek, the fair, 
 Smooth, soft, white skin, the rotund form, 
 The jocund welcome, rough and warm ; 
 The smile of calm content and love 
 Peeps from each cot, where er we rove ; 
 Beams in each eye where Friendship dwells, 
 And leaps with joy where Music swells I 
 
 102. Yes, Music ! thou art native here I 
 The very earth is full of cheer ! 
 The fleecy flocks, the lowing kine, 
 
 Sing through the long, mild summer time ; 
 The cheerful lark mounts up in glee, 
 And trembles in his ecstasy ! 
 And where the sparkling brooklet glides, 
 The chirping bird her children hides. 
 
54 HOME. 
 
 103. The speckled thrush, in lofty state, 
 Pours his loud song to listening mate ; 
 And when the day departs, we hear 
 The nightingale s sweet, lonely cheer, 
 Giving the moon and starry train 
 
 A joyous, welcome, loving strain ; 
 And adding to the lover s plea 
 The eloquence of minstrelsy 1 
 
 104. Thou " stone set in the silver sea ; " 
 ! who but one can sing of Thee ? 
 Can sing the valor of each son ; 
 
 Of battles fought and victories won ; 
 Of Henry s and a Talbot s lance, 
 Who scorned the chivalry of France ; 
 Can lead us proudly, sadly o er 
 The bloody field of Agincourt : 
 
 105. Can paint to us the gentle Prince, 
 Who sweetly pleadeth to convince 
 His jailer to be gentle still, 
 
 And do the loving child no ill : 
 Plead, Arthur ; let thy innocence 
 Banish the tyrant s bribe from thence, 
 And soften, with thy prattling tongue, 
 The heart, that it shall do no wrong ! 
 
 106. Thy sons have filled the stranger s grave 
 Beyond the distant Indian wave ; 
 
 Left friends and home, that saddest loss, 
 To spread the banner of the Cross : 
 
PART VL 55 
 
 Still straining when the sun was high 
 To distant homes the longing eye ! 
 Nature and duty striving still 
 Within the mighty, human will. 
 
 107. Then to the frigid north they turn, 
 Upon the polar sea, to learn 
 
 The secrets Nature long hath bound 
 
 In icy bars, fast bolted round. 
 
 0, cruel North King ! give them back ^ 
 
 Who wandered o er thy snowy track : 
 
 Fond hearts within thy caverns sleep, 
 
 While sad, at home, the loved ones weep I 
 
 108. Thy sages lift the curious eye 
 
 Up to the boundless evening sky ; 
 Measure the planets, as they turn 
 Within their spheres ; and while they burn, 
 Give laws and bounds, arid bid them run 
 Their shining race around the sun ; 
 Bring down to earth the milky flood, 
 And lift the earth up, up to God ! 
 
 109. What bounds could stop the mad career 
 Of him who sought the Northern Bear, 23 
 And bathed fair Europe in her blood ; 
 Who worshiped the same loving God ! 
 Burnt the same incense, suffered loss, 
 
 In days gone by, for the same cross ! 
 And filled the land his fathers trod 
 With War s sad, desolating rod ? 
 
56 HOME. 
 
 110. If tliou hadst, at each break of day, 
 Heard some fond, faithful servant say, 
 " Thou rt mortal, creature of the dust ; 
 Ambition vaunteth now, but must 
 Soon drop the scepter and the lance," 
 Thou proud, adopted son of France ! 
 Thy madness might, in lucid hours, 
 Have left thee in the happy bowers 
 
 111. Of Home ! beautiful land of flowers ! 
 Fair land of wit and love, which towers 
 Above all lands in sprightly bliss, 
 
 In woman s smiles, in love s wild kiss ! 
 
 Thy Josephine, that Island dove, 
 
 Had filled thy hours with joy and love : 
 
 Thy memory might forever burn 
 
 In human hearts man s holiest urn ! 
 
 112. Who bade the conquering "Fire King" stop, 
 And chained his eagle to the rock ; 
 
 Set bounds to that usurping will, 
 
 Amid the waves said, " Peace, be still ; " 
 
 Who showed what Freedom s sous could do 
 
 On the proud field of Waterloo ! 
 
 The fearless Lion bared his breast, 
 
 And gave earth s homes a peaceful rest ! 
 
 113. Thy Mayflower plowed the western main, 24 
 And in its sails the happy train 
 
 Of Commerce, Home, and Civil Law 
 Were wafted, and Columbia saw 
 
PART VI. 57 
 
 The dawning of a brighter day, 
 
 Begun when she at anchor lay, 
 
 Filled with that thinking, precious freight, 
 
 That shapes inevitable fate ! 
 
 114. That embryo Nation, whose broad stride 
 Hath traversed every ocean tide ; 
 That Nation that hath luster lent 
 To every Isle and Continent ! 
 That star of Patriots, giving light 
 To all who long for human right ; 
 Bidding each son of toil to come, 
 And find a freer, wider Home 1 
 
 Beautiful Isle ! land of the free ! 
 
 Beautiful song-birds sing unto thee I 
 
 Beautiful earth, beautiful sky ! 
 
 0, why should thy flowers but blossom to die ? 
 
 Beautiful bards have sung in thy praise ! 
 Beautiful thoughts thy record shall raise ! 
 Beautiful sous and daughters are thine 1 
 Beautiful souls in thy history shine 1 
 
 Beautiful deeds thy sons have wrought ! 
 Beautiful things thy wise men have taught ! 
 Beautiful gem in the silver sea 
 Beautiful Albion ! I sing of thee. 
 
58 HOME. 
 
 Beautiful things thy daughters have done ! 
 Beautiful laurels for mercy have won ! 
 Beautiful words of tenderness given ! 
 Beautiful garlands have woven for heaven I 
 
 Beautiful groves thy hill-sides adorn ! 
 Beautiful freshness kisses each morn I 
 Beautiful streamlets murmur away ! 
 Beautiful children adown them play 1 
 
 Beautiful laws thy pages boast ! 
 Beautiful freedom smiles on thy coast ! 
 Beautiful songs thy children sing ! 
 Beautiful science thy geniuses bring ! 
 
 Beautiful gardens are blooming around ! 
 Beautiful love in thy homes is found ! 
 Beautiful silence sings on each hill 
 In beautiful moonlight ! so tranquil and still 
 
 When the world lay draped in woe, 
 While the Nation s tears fell fast ; 
 
 When each loving son must go 
 At the bugle s clanging blast ; 
 
 When the widow mourned her dead, 
 And her children called in vain 
 
 For their scant supply of bread, 
 
 And all hearts were filled with pain ; 
 
,-^fceSE LIB*, 
 
 ERSIT 
 
 S^JFon 
 
 When the sons of France grew mad 
 
 In the bloody strife of arms ; 
 When all homes, bereft and sad, 
 
 Mourned amid the war s alarms ; 
 
 When Ambition s favored son 
 
 Rode with pride his prancing steed, 
 
 Tramping out life s dying groan, 
 Dizzy with the conqueror s meed ; 
 
 When each nation, sick with blood, 
 
 Pleads the agonizing prayer 
 To the great All Father God, 
 
 Whose dear love is everywhere, 
 
 Then, then I dear England came, 
 Calm and grand, with measured tread, 
 
 ; Mid the battle s lurid flame I 
 ; Mid the dying and the dead : 
 
 Came, as once the Spartan band, 
 
 To the willing sacrifice ; 
 There, in danger s pass to stand, 
 
 Where the post of danger lies I 
 
 Not in vain thy heroes fell ; 
 
 No ! the Tyrant s race had run ! 
 Justice calmly said, " Tis^well I " 
 
 And sweet Peace cried, " It is done ! ; 
 
60 HOME. 
 
 Beautiful Mayflower, spread thy sail I 
 Beautiful sunlight kisses the gale I 
 Beautiful men, and women fair, 
 Beautiful prayers are breathing there 1 
 
 Beautiful hopes sing in each breast ! 
 Beautiful thoughts of coming rest ! 
 Beautiful faith to each is given I 
 Beautiful trust in God and heaven I 
 
 Beautiful hearts those pilgrims bring ! 
 Beautiful birds their welcome sing I 
 Beautiful was the sea-foam s roar ! 
 Beautiful was the rocky shore ! 
 
 Beautiful flowers adorn the sod ! 
 Beautiful are the walks they trod ! 
 Beautiful conquests time hath made ! 
 Beautiful where their bones are laid ! 
 
 Beautiful sing, coming Time ! 
 Beautiful songs of praise shall be thine 
 Beautiful shall all spirits grow ! 
 Beautiful heaven shall reign below ! 
 
 Beautiful love shall ever increase ! 
 Beautiful hearts shall dwell in peace ! 
 Beautiful Mother ! beautiful Son ! 
 Beautiful victories ye have won ! ! 
 
PART VII. 61 
 
 PART VII. 
 
 115. THOU, Western Empire ! thou shalt show 
 The latent powers that ever grow 
 
 In Freedom s light, on Freedom s soil ; 
 Far from the cant and slavish foil 
 Of hollow pride, and customs slow, 
 Which bind the human passions low 
 Shalt show, on thy untrammeled sod, 
 Man, in the likeness of his God ! 
 
 116. favored Nation, vast and wide ! 
 Extending from Atlantic s tide, 
 To fair Pacific s golden shore 
 Where sing the west winds evermore ! 
 Where richer mines than Ophir s lie ; 
 And mountains lift their turrets high 
 
 In massive grandeur ! where the trees, 
 Like giants, 25 waving in the breeze 
 Their sportive limbs : so proudly say 
 To man, " 0, blossom of a day ! " 
 
 117. Where wild flowers bloom, in fadeless spring; 
 And where the birdlct s tawny wing 
 Flutters with joy the whole year round ! 
 
 And where is heard the silvery sound 
 Of sparkling spray ; where floats above, 
 Around each hill, with lips of love 
 
62 HOME. 
 
 So soft and near ; so close, and sweet ; 
 Ascending from the mountain s feet 
 In noiseless steps, to kiss his face ; 
 Lin-ger-ing long, in close embrace 
 The dew-fed cloud ; scarce wooed away 
 Dissolvent, neath the sun s warm ray ! 
 
 118. Where Winter hath not found a place 
 To show his wrinkled, lifeless face ; 
 And where the fig-tree s fruits are seen 
 Luscious and ripe, inmixed with green ; 
 Like matron s charms, in ample pride, 
 With noble offspring at her side ; 
 
 And, in her arms the tender bloom, 
 Love s latest pledge, and light of home 1 
 
 119. Land of young Hope ! thy wide-spread plains 
 Vast solitudes, where silence reigns 
 Invite the sons of earth to come 
 
 From far and near, and make a home 
 On Liberty s unequaled soil ; 
 Where all the sons of honest toil 
 Are Nature s kings ; but wield no rod 
 Over the heritage of God ! 
 
 120. Homes of the Free ! let songs arise 
 Up to your heroes, in the skies ! 
 Whose unseen forms oft linger round, 
 Near the dear, natal, holy ground ! 
 To drop the loving, viewless tear ; 
 And whisper in the loved one s ear 
 
PART VII. 63 
 
 The silent hope, saying, " 0, come 
 Up to the higher, changeless Home ! " 
 
 121. They cease not, in their upward flight, 
 To shed Progression s fadeless light 
 On the dear land, whose blessed sod, 
 In love and sorrow, once they trod ; 
 For love is changeless in the soul ; 
 And while eternal ages roll, 
 
 The inborn God shall work and plan 
 The noblest future life for man ! 
 
 122. 0, changeless Love ! man s jeweled crown ! 
 The thoughts erf God it briugeth down ! 
 
 ; Tis decked with flowers, and stars, and suns ; 
 
 And through the endless ages runs 
 
 Its unimpeded, onward march, 
 
 Beneath the boundless, royal arch : 
 
 Amid the universal dome 
 
 It sings : " All space, to me, is Home ! " 
 
 123. Dear land of Love ; where Woman s smile 
 Doth life s most weary hours beguile ; 
 Where love is free as mountain air, 
 
 To bless the youthful, wedded pair ; 
 Nor birth, nor gold, nor language parts 
 The nameless bliss of loving hearts ; 
 But through the lapse of passing years, 
 They share life s blessings and its tears 1 
 
64 HOME. 
 
 124. Hope of all lands ! thy children see 
 Fulfillment for each prophecy 
 Given to man, through every age, 
 On Inspiration s ample page ; 
 Here halls of science, opened wide, 
 Invite the youth, on every side, 
 
 To come, and drink the living stream 
 That flows forever, fresh and green ! 
 
 125. Yes, knowledge shall exalt the race ; 
 And virtue flourish in each place 
 Where truth is free ; goodness shall grow 
 In hearts that wisdom s precepts know ; 
 The intellectual eye shines bright, 
 Where Nature s laws and Nature s light 
 Are understood, and freely shown ; 
 These give to man a peerless Home ! 
 
 126. Joy of all lands, dear loving Home ! 
 Thy sacred halls give man alone 
 His real life ; his nest of love, 
 Where all his passions soar above 
 Life s isolation and its grave ; 
 
 And where, no longer held a slave 
 To self and lust, his nature springs 
 To higher aims, and nobler things ; 
 
 127. Thou art his covert from the storm ; 
 The cradle, where his hopes are born ; 
 His fount of inspiration, where 
 Fond, loving objects claim his care ; 
 
PART VII. 65 
 
 \ 
 
 The golden band, that binds his heart 
 To every other precious part 
 Of that dear round, the Family Tree ; 
 Best emblem of the heaven to be I 
 
 128. 0, bold Reformer ! stay thy hand ; 
 Thou hast a mission, great and grand ; 
 Earth s sorrows, and her wrongs, are thine 
 To soothe, to banish, and refine ; 
 Make sharp thy blade for truth and right ; 
 Drown Error in truth s flood of light ! 
 But, ! invade not the bright dome 
 
 That bounds man s holiest ties his Home ! 
 
 129. Bind fast and strong, mysterious coil, 
 Calmly beneath the waves, that boil 
 
 On rough Atlantic s troubled breast ; 
 Bind the old East to the young West, 
 In bands of love and sympathy ; 
 And let all Lands, all Nations, be 
 The dwellings of the good and free ; 
 One wide expanse of Liberty ! 
 
 130. Bind fast, strong coil, the giant son, 
 While he his upward course shall run 
 To the old mother ; whose proud heart, 
 Taught his incipient steps to start 
 
 On that grand journey, whose high goal 
 Shall yet expand the human soul, 
 Far, far beyond the narrow place 
 Of home and kindred and the race 
 5 
 
66 HOME. 
 
 131. Of man, one, indivisible, 
 Fraternal, universal whole, 
 Shall be one family ; shall know, 
 The duties and the cares which flow 
 From Brotherhood ; and knowing, do 
 The brother s part ; then shall the view 
 Of the Omnipotent become 
 AVell pleased, and Earth shall be a Ilome 
 
 PABT VIII. 
 
 132. LAND of the limner, whose grand page, 
 Brought Satan, with his mighty rage, 
 Through horrid Chaos 7 monstrous mere, 
 Down to the distant, new-made sphere ; 
 Where angels saw, with loving eyes, 
 The loving pair of Paradise ! 
 
 Carried to heaven their daily prayer, 
 On snowy wings, through balmy air ! 
 
 133. Unto thy noble Muse was given 
 Bright visions of the plains of heaven ! 
 Ten thousand harps, of sweetest sound, 
 Triumphant swelling ; circling round 
 The throne of God, in angel hands ; 
 Chanting the songs of warrior bands ; 
 
PART VIII. 67 
 
 Making- the boundless concave ring, 
 With peans of heaven s conquering king ! 
 
 134. 0, happy plains ! why should earth be 
 So far from thence ? and why do ye 
 
 angels ! walk no more with men 
 
 In sweet communion, glad, as when. 
 
 The earth was young ; and every bower 
 
 Of paradise, and every flower 
 
 On pristine earth, that bloomed around, 
 
 Saw God ; and all was hallowed ground ? 
 
 135. Thou, sacred bard, alone couldst bring 
 The horrid, shameless form of sin 
 
 To mortal view ; and thy rough pen, . 
 Alone, could bring to human keii 
 The mighty, sulphurous thunders, sent 
 From God, to heaven s high battlement ! 
 And Satan, with his crew, fast prone 
 To hell, the base usurper s home ! 
 
 136. Thy Comus ; with enchantment bold, 
 Shows virtue in a mortal mold ; 
 And in thy sacred, fond distress, 
 With thee we weep for Lycidas ! 
 And sad Manoah s son doth fill 
 
 The fountain of the human will, 
 With the soft streams that ever flow, 
 From human hearts, for human woe ! 
 
68 HOME. 
 
 137. Blind Poet ; 26 he who filled thine eyes 
 With visions fair, of Paradise ; 
 
 Who led thee, in the desert wild, 
 With his sad, fasting, holy child ; 
 Who took thee near Siloa s stream ; 
 And opened to thy raptured dream 
 The sapphire curtain, whence is seen, 
 The shepherd, mid the pastures green 
 
 138. Beside the peaceful, silent flood, 
 Flowing fast by the throne of God ; 
 Imparted from the solar sphere, 
 The magic of Ith Uriel s spear ; 
 
 And showed thee, in its golden light, 
 The false, bad angel in his flight ; 
 He saw thee in the spirit groan ; 
 Sent Gabriel down, and took thee home I 
 
 139. Thou contemplative child of clay, 
 The pious heart delights in Gray ; 
 And Beaus and Belles of London pray 
 For the good times of sprightly Gay ; 
 And Armstrong s song is still approved, 
 By those who Hygeia s laws have loved ; 
 While fancy s flight, and love, are seen, 
 In Spenser s matchless Fairy Queen ! 
 
 140. Bold bard, of wit s sharp, comic verse ; 
 No son of song doth yet rehearse, 
 Like thee, the follies of mankind ; 
 
 And none, like thee, have sought to find, 
 
PART VIII. 69 
 
 The depth of madness, which doth bind 
 In sacred chains, the human mind ; 
 Cant still doth need thy flashing blade, 
 As when a pious Cromwell prayed. 
 
 141. Unequaled Butler ! time shall see 
 
 Man disinthralled through wit and thee ! 
 
 For when calm reason pleads in vain, 
 
 Thy verse, in a resistless strain, 
 
 " Shall laugh mankind to common sense ; 
 
 And smiling, Reason s laws dispense : ;; 
 
 Be proud, Albion ! of thy son ; 
 
 No other land hath such an one 1 
 
 142. Immortal Dreamer ! 27 what to thee 
 Was earth and all its pageantry ? 
 What gaoler could the spirit bind, 
 That the strait, narrow way would find ; 
 Or keep the anxious Pilgrim back, 
 
 Till he had lost the heavy pack ; 
 Till the sad, weary, burdened soul, 
 Looked on the Cross, and was made whole I 
 
 143. Yes, son of toil ! thy footsteps trod 
 The narrow path that leads to God, 
 With constant labor ; and thy way 
 Was set with snares, from day to day ; 
 
 But thy " Great Heart " fought brave for thee, 
 
 The sinless land of rest to see ! 
 
 The land of Beulah, thou hast shown, 
 
 Is thine at last, and thou art home ! 
 
TO HOME. 
 
 144. I fain would to the vision ope, 
 
 Of him who reads, the muse of Pope ; 
 Of Shelley, Byron, and of Moore ; 
 Bright sons of genius ! whose rich store 
 Of fancy, love, and beauty pour 
 A flood of glory evermore 
 Upon their race, and upon thee, 
 Land of the great, the good, and free I 
 
 145. All hail ! fair land of lofty song I 
 
 I would thy noblest praise prolong ; 
 
 Would sing of thine, would sing of thee I 
 
 I, thy sad child, would gladly be 
 
 One of thy favored progeny 
 
 Of wit and song ; but none but He, 
 
 Who spake from out dread Sinai s height, 
 
 Can give the bard s transcendent flight 1 
 
 146. Enough, Great Source, for me, 28 the page 
 That singeth of the " Golden Age ; " 
 That bringeth to the upturned eye, 
 
 The regions where the angels fly ! 
 That whispereth to the dying saint 
 Angelic welcomes, soft and faint, 
 But full of glory ! for they say, 
 " Come, sister spirit, come away ! ;; 
 
 147. That singeth of the Indian wave, 29 
 Where beauty dwelleth in her cave ; 
 Amid the coral rocks we see 
 
 The fairest flower of Araby I 
 
PART VIIL 71 
 
 Of him 30 who roamed from home and peace, 
 Drained Pleasure s cup, and died for Greece ; 
 Caught Dante s and a Tasso s fire 
 And struck anew each poet s lyre ! 
 
 148. All hail, great Mother ! long shall last, 
 The fadeless memory of thy past ! 
 Thou art a blessed beacon, sent 
 
 To lighten up earth s firmament ! 
 Thy science and thy songs do lie 
 Like stars athwart the mental sky ! 
 And he, who great and good would be, 
 Must drink the streams that flow from thee. 
 
 149. Loveth man Justice ? he must draw 
 Its precepts from thy Common Law ; 
 Thy Language, like a river flows, 
 Where right and justice ever grows ; 
 And on its long, extended banks, 
 Are ever growing lofty ranks 
 
 Of graceful cedars, 31 giving aid 
 
 To all who dwell beneath their shade ! 
 
 150. Upon its fruitful valleys there, 
 
 Doth grow the Tree of Knowledge fair ; 
 And he who plucketh its ripe fruit, 
 Shall swell the brightest, fairest troop 
 That ever trod the shining way, 
 Amid the broad effulgent day 
 Of truth and fancy, and of faith, 
 That triumphs over life and death ! 
 
72 HOME. 
 
 151. Down on its all-pervading course, 
 Shall the great soul of Wilberforce 
 Pervade all climes, all lands instill 
 With a divine and generous will; 
 Till every land and every sea, 
 Are the abodes of Liberty I 
 And every seed that love hath sown, 
 Shall grow and bless some humble Home 
 
 PART IX. 
 
 152. AH ! what is Home ? Is name or place 
 A home for man s exalted race ? 
 
 Doth crib or larder, house or land ; 
 Apparel, or the golden sand ; 
 Knowledge of nature or mankind ; 
 Meanness or nobleness of mind ; 
 Unmeasured, fortunate success ; 
 Do these a real Home express ? 
 
 153. Tell us, ye winds, as floating on 
 Your everlasting course ye run, 
 Where found ye, in the ancient time, 
 That pleasant land, that genial clime, 
 Where heart with heart, in constant bliss, 
 Mingle together ; and they miss 
 
 No sun ray, by the Father sent, 
 To lighten up their firmament ! 
 
PART IX. 73 
 
 154. Tell us, ye waters, as ye lave 
 
 All lands with your encircling wave, 
 What isle, or continent, or rock, 
 Near or remote, escaped the shock, 
 When heavenly harmonies were stilled 
 Upon the earth ; and it was filled 
 With hissing discords, first began, 
 When sin had marred the primal plan? 
 
 155. Thou central Orb, bright God of Day I 
 Round thee the sister planets play : 
 Which of the luminous, shining train, 
 Know not the curse of sin and pain ; 
 Know not the lurking serpent s den, 
 His poisonous tooth ? most fatal, when 
 His pleasing, gaudy coil is shown 
 Where else had bloomed a happy Home. 
 
 156. Home ! fragrant flower ! from thee the dove 
 Drinketh its daily draughts of love ; 
 
 In thy soft colors ^ there doth dwell 
 A soothing, peaceful, holy spell ; 
 And underneath thy verdant leaves 
 The evening zephyr gently weaves 
 The woof that bindeth human hearts 
 In golden threads, till life departs ! 
 
 157. Close by thee, twixt the burning rays 
 Of life s unceasing, withering blaze, 
 A stately Tree 33 its limbs doth spread, 
 Above the weary pilgrim s head ; 
 
 OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
74 HOME. 
 
 And underneath, and all around, 
 The seeds of human hope are found ; 
 And on its bending branches grows, 
 The fruit that healeth human woes : 
 
 158. Perennial Tree ! thou fadest not, 
 When human works and passions rot ; 
 When priest and layman, king and slave, 
 Fill up the ever-opening grave ; 
 
 When massive piles, built deep and high, 
 Which scorn the earth, and time defy, 
 Are buried neath the years to come ; 
 Thy top shall point the spirit Home ! 
 
 159. Thou, sacred Tree, shalt ever live ! 
 And life s transcendent guerdon give ; 
 When friends forsake, or pass away, 
 The joyous winds, that round thee play, 
 Whisper to weary ones, " Hope on ; 
 Behind the clouds a glorious sun 
 
 Is shining, with resplendent beams I 
 Seen in the blessed prophets dreams ! 
 
 160. " Seen only when the earth is dim 
 Left far behind ; and when the hymn 
 Of saint and seraph mingle there, 
 Far, far above this grosser air ! 
 Falls sweetly on the raptured ear, 
 When love and sorrow bring us near 
 The Holy One ; and when the soul 
 Is full of Him, who maketh whole 1 " 
 
PART IX. 75 
 
 161. Supernal Faith ! what would man be, 
 If left alone of heaven and thee ? 
 
 Of heaven and thee ? to thee is given, 
 Faith ! the golden gate of heaven ! 
 And through the crystal bars we see 
 The visions of eternity ! 
 Dim, distant visions ! ye. are worth 
 More than the diadems of earth ! 
 
 162. More than the flattering peans, sung 
 By servile bards, to Fortune s son ; 
 For sweeter sounds come floating near 
 The obedient, loving listener s ear ; 
 More than the welcomes, long and loud, 
 To dizzy heroes from the crowd ; 
 
 Too oft, alas ! the prelude sad, 
 That driveth human frailty mad ! 
 
 163. More than the fondest words of love, 
 Breathed gently in the sylvan grove ; 
 For truest vows are but the breath 
 Of changing life, and end in death. 
 More than the all-expanding mind, 
 That shines supreme among its kind ; 
 For highest types of power and worth 
 Are sad, lone beacons on the earth. 
 
 164. Eternal God ! we bow to Thee 
 
 The contrite heart and bended knee ; 
 Great Fountain, whence all blessings flow 
 To angels, and to men below ; 
 
76 HOME. 
 
 Whence cometh the seraphic fire, 
 That man and angel doth inspire : 
 Make earth in ages yet to come 
 To every soul a Happy Home ! 
 
 165. Then faith, and hope, and every grace, 
 Shall dwell among our blessed race ; 
 Then envy, hate, and war shall cease, 
 And then again the song of peace 
 Shall echo over hill and plain, 
 And angels dwell with men again ; 
 Then heaven to earth shall fondly come, 
 And earth shall be a Heavenly Home I 
 
 PART X. 
 
 166. HOME, Home in Heaven ! I fain would sing 
 Its raptures ! In the budding spring, 
 When the young, tender blade peeps forth, 
 So green, upon the smiling earth ; 
 And the pure snow-drop lifts its head, 
 Tenderly, on its virgin bed ; 
 When apple blooms perfume the air, 
 And warbling birds with joy repair 
 To verdant shades and trickling spring, 
 Their joyous notes of love to sing ; 
 
PART X. 77 
 
 16*7. When fleecy flocks climb round the hill, 
 And feed mid pastures, calm and still ; 
 And when the sweet wild rose we seek, 
 With blushes on its lovely cheek ; 
 When blue flowers hang their clustering bells, 
 And cowslips clothe the fertile dells ; 
 When primrose blossoms, spreading- far, 
 On every bank, each flower a star ; 
 
 168. When the young feet witli rapture stray 
 O er hill and vale, each happy day ; 
 When age looks back with joy serene, 
 Adown the paths of living green ; 
 When poets dip the joyous pen 
 
 In dewdrops, each a precious gem ; 
 When rainbows span the deep blue sky, 
 To glad the heart and charm the eye ; . 
 
 169. When the maternal eye shines bright 
 Upon the infant s budding light, 
 And children sing the simple lays 
 
 That charmed us in the youthful days ; 
 This, this is Home ! but not like heaven, 
 For mildew blights the buds at even. 
 
 170. Sweet Summer ! canst thou help me sing 
 Of Ilome in Heaven ? thy zephyrs bring, 
 Mid orange groves and woodland song, 
 And lowing herds, a happy throng ; 
 Mid golden sheaves and new-mown hay, 
 In the long, fragrant, joyous day; 
 
18 HOME. 
 
 When the young fledgling learns to sing, 
 And ventures on his tender wing 
 To soar above the parent nest, 
 And glad returns at eve to rest. 
 
 171. Bring to the valley, full and round 
 At eventide, the curfew s sound ; 
 And kiss the milkmaid, blithe and hale, 
 Returning with her snowy pail ! 
 Ripple the sparkling brooklet s breast, 
 Where finny denizens are drest 
 
 In gorgeous robes of sunny rays, 
 Basking beneath the noontide blaze. 
 
 172. The cooing dove, with joy elate, 
 
 Is murmuring love to listening mate ; 
 Float zephyrs o er the flowers, and fill 
 With fragrance every vale and hill ; 
 And whisper in the bee s soft tone, 
 To the tired swain the song of home ; 
 But scattered wild-rose flowers lie riven, 
 And softly sigh, " This is not heaven ! " 
 
 173. ! .Autumn winds ! I list your lay 
 Of thankful hearts at opening day ! 
 Thy ripening fruits in clusters crown 
 The trees, and bear their branches down, 
 Like honored age, with fruits all ripe, 
 Dropping to earth in gems of light ! 
 
PART X. 79 
 
 174. Sing, gentle Autumn ! sing to me 
 Of love, with all its ecstasy ! 
 
 Of welcome home ! from lips of love ! 
 It lifts our tired hearts above 
 The toils of earth, and points to heaven, 
 Where changeless, endless love is given I 
 
 175. ! let your brown and yellow leaves, 
 Trembling and loosening^in the breeze, 
 Breathe to my heart, how short the day 
 Of life ; while loved ones seem to say, 
 " Cling not to earth, but come away ! 
 
 176. " Yes, joyous come, if thou hast shed 
 Gladness and joy on hearts that bled ; 
 If thou hast lifted up thy voice, 
 
 To make the weary slave rejoice ; 
 
 If thou hast fed the poor with bread, 
 
 And soothed the sick man s weary head ; 
 
 If thou hast cast a pitying eye 
 
 On wayworn travelers, passing by ; 
 
 If thou hast wiped the widow s tear, 
 
 And left a silent influence there 
 
 Of joyous hope ; her upward gaze 
 
 Shall bless thee, more than loudest praise ; 
 
 And He who loveth her shall wait 
 
 To ope for thee heaven s pearly gate ! 
 
 177. " And if thy charity shall bring 
 
 The food that makes the orphan sing, 
 
80 HOME. 
 
 And prattling babes shall lisp thy name 
 
 In gladness, let the scroll of fame 
 
 Be silent ; for the angel throng 
 
 Shall sing for thee the conqueror s song ! " 
 
 178. ! Autumn leaves ! your colors blend 
 In hues and shadings without end I 
 Dear Autumn, let your sunbeams lie 
 In glory on the evening sky, 
 
 Till earth becomes a gorgeous dream, 
 And inspiration, like a stream, 
 Flows through the human soul ; till mail 
 Is wrapped in Nature s wondrous plan 1 
 And neath the burning, glowing dome, 
 His spirit sighs for Heaven and Home ! 
 
 179. Fair Summer-Land ! thy visions bring, 
 And teach these mortal tongues to sing ! 
 Present to our astonished view 
 Translucent lakes, mid ether blue ; 
 
 And wafted barques, their waves to press, 
 And in those barques, like flowerets drest 
 In love and beauty, maidens bright, 
 Chanting sweet love songs, where no night, 
 With somber shades, and sickly dew. 
 Buries the loved ones from their view ! 
 
 180. Where Spring and Summer iriterblend ; 
 Where buds and blossoms fragrance lend 
 To every passing zephyr s sigh ; 
 Where, on the banks, the dear ones lie 
 
PART X. 81 
 
 Waiting, to give the welcome kiss ; 
 And sing the song of angel bliss ! 
 
 181. Where Autumn s luscious fruits, all ripe, 
 ; Mid clustering blossoms, bless the sight ; 
 And blushing fruits, and fragrant flowers, 
 Hang bending on the Eden bowers ; 
 Where smile forever loving eyes, 
 
 Those precious gems of Paradise ! 
 
 Those stars, that leave our sorrowing sight, 
 
 To hide themselves in heaven s own light ! 
 
 182. Where groups of fond ones wait to hear 
 The new-born footsteps drawing near, 
 Bringing the news of sorrow fled, 
 From the poor aching heart and head ; 
 Where sits the young-eyed Cherubim, 
 Chanting the child-like spirit hymn ; 
 And listening to the muse of fire, 
 Enchanting, sweeps Apollo s lyre 
 With rosy fingers, blithe and free, 
 
 In strains of moving melody ! 
 
 183. Where sits the sire, of ancient time, 
 Endowed with wisdom most sublime ; 
 Smiling upon the happy throng, 
 
 And listening to each joyous song, 
 Till silence reigns ; then, calm and bland, 
 With parted lips and outstretched hand, 
 He points adown the fields of space, 
 Discoursing on the onward race 
 6 
 
82 HOME. 
 
 Of endless life ; its ceaseless march, 
 Beneath the glittering, royal arch, 
 Studded with countless worlds afar, 
 Each world a happy, peopled star ! 
 
 184. Relating wondrous tales of old ; 
 Each sentence grandly doth unfold 
 Truths written on the page of gold ! 
 Truth knows no time ; it hath no space ; 
 Like God, confined within no place ; 
 ; Tis ever old, and ever young ; 
 
 The choiring stars have ever sung 
 
 Its praise ; and space hath echoed back 
 
 The song, adown its endless track ! 
 
 185. " Seek not (he said), 0, infant man, 
 To antedate the primal plan ; 
 
 Ten thousand of earth s years Fve scanned 
 Great truths ; and still on Ocean s strand 
 I wander ; and amid its sparkling sand, 
 Jewels of shining truth, more grand, 
 Lie undiscovered ; and 1 see 
 Labor for all eternity ! 
 
 186. " Then onward, upward, be our cry ! 
 While spirits through boundless ether fly, 
 Truth, still beyond, a radiant star, 
 Lights up the soul, and dwells afar 1," 
 
 187. He ceased ; and than electric light 
 More quick, the vision left my sight ! 
 
PART X. 
 
 And I, in mortal form below, 
 Stood silent ; for I could not know 
 Where they had fled ; I could not trace 
 The beauties of their dwelling-place 1 
 
 188. I cannot sing the song I heard ; 
 
 Earth hath no plumed, warbliug bird 
 To sing that song ; and I must wait, 
 Till swingeth back the golden gate ! 
 Then shall to us again be given 
 The hope of all, that real vision, 
 Love s fadeless boon, A HOME IN HEAVEN 1 
 
EXPLANATORY NOTES TO "HOME." 
 
 Rape of Lucrece. Shakespeare. 
 
 Rainbow. 
 
 Indian oratory. 
 
 Small pox : first introduced by whites. 
 
 On mid Mississippi are vast natural columns for many miles, 
 re embling the ruins of ancient cities. 
 
 Maize, or Indian corn, in immense fields. 
 
 Vicksburg heights, the boasted western impregnable barrier of 
 the rebels, was reduced July 4, 1863, as was also gained over them 
 the victory of Gettysburg, by Meade over Lee, the day before, 
 giving us a double celebration of the Fourth of July. 
 s The cotton flower. 
 
 9 This river lies between Virginia and Kentucky, slave states, on 
 one side, and Pennsylvania, Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois, free states, 
 on the other ; extending over one thousand miles. 
 
 10 Ohio River has vast coal mines on its banks. 
 
 11 The entire population of Europe could be placed on the bor 
 ders, or banks, of the Ohio, in a good position for independence, 
 and within a few miles of its waters. 
 
 12 The Ohio, and particularly the upper Mississippi, and mid 
 Missouri and Kansas Rivers, have very fine, dark crimson sunsets 
 bathing the entire horizon in all directions. 
 
 13 Extensive works distill salt from springs, in large quantities* 
 on the banks of the Ohio, in various places. 
 
 14 The ten thousand Greek troops, under Xenophon, when re 
 turned from the Persian expedition, fur young Cyrus. 
 
 15 Napoleon. 
 
 J s David and Goliah. 
 
 17 Jesus to John, and his own mother. 
 
 84 
 
EXPLANATORY NOTES TO "HOME." 85 
 
 " Cnius Marcius was killed by the Volscians, through the jeal 
 ousy of Aufidius, their native general, after he had defeated his 
 own people for them. 
 
 19 Sir Walter Scott. 
 
 20 The hatred of English power, and of the Protestant religion, 
 seems to be a complete barrier to the individual improvement and 
 national resuscitation of the Irish people and nation. 
 
 21 Will not this proprietary monopoly compel an exodus, like 
 that of Ireland ? and does it not now begin to cramp the enter 
 prise and welfare of the English people ? 
 
 22 Are not the North Pole expeditious experimental insanities ? 
 
 23 Napoleon. 
 
 a* 1620, December 14, Plymouth colony planted. 
 
 25 The Great Trees of Yosemite,the " Siamese Twins," two from 
 one root, one hundred and fourteen feet each in circumference ; 
 one, measuring one hundred and six feet in circumference, was two 
 hundred and seventy-six feet in height. Some are three hundred 
 and twenty-five feet high. The waterfall of the River Yosemite is 
 twenty-six hundred feet, or nine tunes the height of Niagara, and 
 the highest known. 
 
 so Milton. 
 
 27 Bunyan. 
 
 ss Pope. 
 
 29 Moore. 
 
 80 Byron. 
 
 81 Men of Science, the Arts, Religion, Law, and Poetry. 
 J Home. 
 
 ss Faith. 
 
FEMME HEROIC. 
 
 I SING a Maid of lovely form, 
 Who mid the burr-oak trees was born, 
 Beside a stream of Indian name, 
 Where oft the Indian maidens came. 
 Her sire, from lands beyond the sea, 
 Sought the abode of Liberty, 
 And, on Atlantic s western main, 
 Kejoiced in Freedom s pleasing strain ; 
 And while he sung, a western Maid, 
 Beneath the oak tree s cooling shade, 
 Gave back an echo through the grove, 
 And gentle zephyrs whispered love : 
 Both listened to the zephyrs breath, 
 And sang the love song until death ! 
 
88 FEMME HEROIC. 
 
 The Maid I sing- was first to greet 
 Their wedded love with infant feet ; 
 Hers was the first sweet infant smile 
 The happy mother to beguile ; 
 Her infant tongue the first to pour 
 Its prattling music O QT and o er ; 
 Her rosebud lips the first to press 
 The mother s, in her fond caress ; 
 Her infant head the first to rest 
 Upon the mother s loving breast ; 
 Her tender hands the first to cling 
 Around life s orbdd, luscious spring ; 
 Her childish voice the first to play 
 Its bird-tones on the opening day ! 
 
 And when this maid could trip along, 
 On tiny feet, and sing her song 
 Of infant joy ; when she could hear, 
 With sweet delight, the wild birds near ; 
 When to her soul the flowers could speak, 
 And in the morn her tender feet 
 Could wander down the distant meads, 
 Where cusha and the lambkin feeds ; 
 When the young mind s first opening light 
 Sees beauty in the dew-drop bright ; 
 When all the outside world appears 
 One glory, in the opening years ; 
 
FEMME HEROIC. 
 
 Then the fond Trio went to dwell 
 Where the wild prairie flings its spell 
 Of vernal beauty ; where the flowers 
 Bloom gorgeous in the summer hours ; 
 Where the tall grass bends neath the storm, 
 And glistens in the dewy morn : 
 ; Twas here her early footsteps trod 
 The garden of the loving God ! 
 
 Happy life ! happy day ! 
 Where all strife flies away 
 From each heart ; where the smile 
 Doth not part ; but doth while 
 Every pain from the breast, 
 . Till they gain endless rest ! 
 Envy not state or pride, 
 Ye whose lot they deride ; 
 Envy not gold or land, 
 Know ye not life more grand 
 Dwells with love, where they sing 
 Songs more sweet than notes of spring ? 
 
 How sweet the home of love ! here life begins 
 To the young soul on the dove s purple wings ; 
 Here, in the downy nest, the twittering brood 
 Are fed with love s divine, unceasing food ! 
 Here in each voice love s music notes are heard, 
 And kindness tones the echo of each word ! 
 
90 FEMME HEROIC. 
 
 Here the soft eye beams forth the happy smile, 
 And drives away earth s sadness and turmoil ; 
 Here chaste instruction lifts the heart to heaven, 
 And dear affection s changeless ties are given ! 
 
 This was the home of her I sing ; 
 
 Here did her dancing footsteps bring 
 
 The yellow-cup, and lily fair ; 
 
 The growing maize, with flowing hair ; 
 
 The bending sumach s crimson flower, 
 
 That decks wild Nature s verdant bower ; 
 
 The fleur-de-lis, with trenchant blade, 
 
 That blossoms in the distant glade ; 
 
 The bulrush, bordering on the lake, 
 
 And the cool, feather-netted brake ; 
 
 And that dear flower, that floats all day 
 
 Upon the lakelet s crystal spray 
 
 That drinks all night the moon s soft beams, 
 
 And on its soft bed lies and dreams ; 
 
 That anchors in the oozy deep, 
 
 Where Nature s germs in silence sleep ; 
 
 That gambols when the south wind brings 
 
 The boisterous waves, and laughs and sings ! 
 
 More fair upon the watery plain, 
 
 Than she of more pretentious name, 
 
 Who sailed upon the Cydnus wave, 
 
 And sleeps in her Egyptian grave. 
 
FEMME HEROIC. 91 
 
 She reigns supreme upon her throne, 
 And looks up to the great Unknown, 
 And bows her head to Him alone ! 
 She asks not if the wide parterre 
 Of earth has flowers as pure or fair ; 
 She envies not their colors bright, 
 That drink the sun s unclouded light, 
 But blooms a modest watery star, 
 And mirrors back each world afar 1 
 This flower spoke volumes to her soul 
 Of Nature s sweet, divine control ; 
 This water lily, like her heart, 
 Dwelt from the grosser world apart ; 
 And in its own sweet fragrance grew 
 Her spirit, nurtured by the dew 
 Of home affections ; Virtue s nest ; 
 The cradle where the love flowers rest ! 
 
 Within the prairie cottage, kept with care, 
 Were youth s instructive volumes ; and her prayer 
 Was wafted on the evening winds to Him 
 Who lights the distant lamps, and dwells within 
 The deep profound, for truth, and inner light, 
 To read His never-changing laws aright. 
 She read the name of every leaf and flower, 
 And sung her father s songs within the bower 
 His hands had planted ; where was heard 
 The sweet voice of the unconfined wild bird, 
 
92 FEMME HEROIC. 
 
 That listened to the music of her song, 
 
 And lingered there, the purple grapes among ! 
 
 And she was beautiful, where beauty reigned ! 
 
 Not as the artificial flowers are strained, 
 
 Not as the slaves of fashion flash and shine, 
 
 But Nature s own sweet beauty, all divine ! 
 
 Her eye had drawn from heaven s sereuest light, 
 
 Soft as the moon, and melting on the sight. 
 
 The wild rose tinged her cheek, and blushing there, 
 
 Ilid neath the drooping locks of flowing hair. 
 
 Her graceful form, moved like the thought of love, 
 
 When angels waft it to the realms above ! 
 
 Her presence, in youth s happy, rural scene, 
 
 Was Nature s unassuming, smiling Queen ; 
 
 Her voice was like the evening zephyr s breath, 
 
 Or angel voices in the hour of death ! 
 
 Twas like the mother s first sweet song of praise, 
 
 When the young stranger gazes on her face ! 
 
 Blow, Winds ! howling winds ! 
 Winter winds ! moaning winds ! 
 Lowering clouds, threatening clouds, 
 Pour ye down, howl ye down 
 Sorrows thick, sorrows fast ! 
 Blast the bowers ; crush the flowers ; 
 Sever hearts, loving hearts ; 
 Crush the hearts ; break the hearts ! 
 
FEMME HEROIC. 93 
 
 Grim old Death, chilly death, 
 Hateful death ! Spare not, Death, 
 Spare them not ; hear them not ; 
 Pity not ; tarry not ! 
 Mother s love ; Father s love ; 
 Daughter s love ; Infant love ; 
 Parting words, sobs and words ; 
 Feeble words, broken words 
 Spare not, Death ; heed not, Death I 
 Toll the bell, count the bell ; 
 Hear the bell, toll the bell ! 
 Mourners meet, whispering meet ; 
 Mourners sigh, bend and sigh ; 
 Falling tears, flowing tears ; 
 Bursting tears ; burning tears I 
 Lonely rooms, vacant rooms ; 
 Hollow rooms, silent rooms : 
 Sullen doors, closed up doors : 
 Windows blank, windows closed : 
 Bed of love, downy bed ; 
 Pillows soft, pillows white, 
 Empty now, cheerless now ! 
 Fireside sad, cheerless fire : 
 Songs of love, words of love, 
 Gone away, passed away : 
 Vacant hearts, burning hearts ; 
 Waiting hearts, breaking hearts ! 
 
94 FEMME HEROIC. 
 
 Ah ! life is sad when friendships die ! 
 
 Sad is the soul when fond hearts leave ; 
 ! prize their love when they are nigh, 
 
 And to them strongly, firmly cleave ! 
 Just as the milk-white lily s flower 
 
 Oped its full petals to the sun, 
 Death stalked within Love s fragrant bower, 
 
 And left the lovely flower alone ! 
 Hast seen the lamb, in fertile meads, 
 
 Famished, and sad, and lonely stray ? 
 So the dear maid her life now leads, 
 
 For the sweet dam has fled away ! 
 Her father ceased his cheerful song ; 
 
 Her woodland walks are lonely now ; 
 The weary nights are dark and long, 
 
 And heart and head in sadness bow ! 
 Hast seen the youthful mother lie 
 
 In death s cold, pitiless embrace, 
 With dreamless sleep closing the eye, 
 
 And marble silence on the lovely face ? 
 0, mother s love ! sweet mother s love ! 
 
 Who hath not felt its matchless worth ? 
 It bids the soul s best passions move, 
 
 And sanctifies the toils of earth. 
 And when the fountain sends no more 
 
 Its crystal, limpid, sparkling spray ; 
 When love s sweet stream shall cease to pour 
 
 Its gentle music on our way ; 
 Then sorrow sits like Egypt s night, 
 
 And hangs its heavy-laden pall 
 
FEMME HEROIC. 95 
 
 On all that once was fair and bright, 
 
 And shadows on our pathway fall. 
 0, Maiden fair ! so young and fair, 
 
 To thee this bitter cup was given ; 
 This was thy first sad pang of care ; 
 
 The first storm on thy soul was driven 1 
 The downy pillow drank thy tears ; 
 
 The sun s first rays thy tears enshrine ; 
 And in the fast succeeding years 
 
 Those bitter tears were ever thine ! 
 But life rolls on, and in its way 
 
 The storm and sunshine interblend, 
 And Nature s charms forever play 
 
 Like sun rays, till the final end. 
 
 There s a charm on the earth, there s a charm in 
 
 the sky ! 
 
 There s a song in the soul, and a light in the eye ! 
 There s a sunshine of hope in the morning of life, 
 And a sweet bow of promise that lightens the strife I 
 There s a confidence lives in the heart that is young, 
 And a halo of light on its pathway" is flung ! 
 There s a sound that we love in the youthful one s 
 
 voice, 
 
 And the love that they bring makes the weary re 
 joice ! 
 
 There s a beautiful world in the depths of the soul I 
 In the spring-time of life the sweet harmonies roll I 
 
96 FEMME HEROIC. 
 
 Then the garden of life has its roses in bloom, 
 
 And the visions we see have a joy and a plume ! 
 
 ; Tis a world of its own that the spirit moves in, 
 
 Ere the outer world brings its confusion and din ; 
 
 ! the garden of life, with its perfume and flow 
 ers, 
 
 When the young heart reclines in Home s beautiful 
 bowers ! 
 
 There are clouds, there are storms, but the sun ray 
 falls through, 
 
 And its silvery sheen sparkles bright in the dew ! 
 
 Now, in her cradle s hallowed spot, 
 Where once had stood the natal cot, 
 Our blushing Maid, with tripping feet, 
 Ascends where men of wisdom meet ; 
 Drinks the clear stream that Science pours, 
 Arid enters in at Learning s doors. 
 Ere chanticleer, with clarion notes, 
 Proclaims the dawn ; ere Phoebus opes 
 The gates of heaven, what time the gray 
 - Clouds usher in the morning ray ; 
 Before the milkmaid sings her lay 
 To listening herds, at opening day ; 
 While yet the clover drinks the dew, 
 Before the eye of heaven peeps through, 
 Our early Maid hath left the nest 
 Where innocence and beauty rest ; 
 
FEMME HEROIC, 97 
 
 Where angels, all night long, did tread, 
 With silent footsteps, round her bed ! 
 With loving heart and curious eye 
 She views the lambkins sleeping nigh ; 
 And at her silvery voice they rise, 
 Like innocence, in sweet surprise ! 
 Where sorrow had the sad heart wrung, 
 And age the snowy locks had flung ; 
 Her quiet footsteps lingered near, 
 To soothe the sigh and dry the tear ; 
 And on the family table spread 
 The dainty meal, with home-made bread ; 
 Such as her mother spread before 
 The spoiler entered in the door ; 
 And on her brother s youthful brow 
 Impressed the kiss that lingers now ! 
 Then, where the wise instruction give, 
 And for the young a garment weave 
 Of priceless worth ; where precepts flow 
 Like raindrops on the earth below, 
 She stood amid the sages there, 
 A modest flower, so bright, so fair ; 
 So calm and still ; so good and wise ; 
 So deep and dark those melting eyes ! 
 So steadfast, on the mental prize ! 
 Like evening s star, when daylight dies ! 
 
 The prize was won ! the parchment scroll 
 Was like the sunlight to her soul ! 
 
98 FEMME HEROIC. 
 
 Like Aaron s rod, with blossoms fair, 
 Or voices singing in the air ! 
 Like golden dust to miser s eye, 
 Or angel voices when we die ! 
 
 ? Tis the life of a God ! when the sower goes forth, 
 Scattering seeds that shall grow on the bosom of earth; 
 And the Maid that I sing went forth happy and free, 
 Sowing seeds that shall grow in the good time to be ! 
 And the smile of her love made the sweet flowers 
 
 grow 
 To the sunlight of heaven, from the dull earth 
 
 below ; 
 
 The children clung round her, like lambs in the fold ; 
 And the precepts she gave were more precious 
 
 than gold ! 
 
 While the obdurate heart, that was heedless before, 
 Won by kindness and love, conned the lessons all 
 
 o er. 
 
 The fountain of life seemed to flow through her lips, 
 Like the nectar of flowers that the honey-bee sips ! 
 And the sound of her voice was like music in 
 
 spring, 
 When the breath of the south the first warbler doth 
 
 bring ! 
 Like the sound of the harp when the storm has 
 
 passed by, 
 Or the welcome of love when the lover is nigh ! 
 
FEMME HEROIC. 99 
 
 0, to see was to love her ! e en age cast a sigh, 
 For the glance, ne er forgot, from his first love s 
 
 sweet eye ! 
 And the youthful heart leaped with a pleasure like 
 
 pain, 
 While the lovers laid siege to her heart, but in 
 
 vain ; 
 Twas the world that she loved, like her garden of 
 
 flowers, 
 Which she pruned, and she propped, through the 
 
 summer s long hours, 
 
 And they gave back her love, as the echoing hills, 
 When the song of the bird down the sweet valley 
 
 thrills ! 
 ; Tis the hope of the world ! tis the prophecy s 
 
 breath ! 
 
 The green laurels we weave for posterity s wreath ! 
 ; Tis the Nation s best hope, and her glory to-day I 
 Tis the sword that the tyrants shall USe with dis 
 may ! 
 And the Teacher that works for the good of the 
 
 race, 
 Shall receive the reward in a happier place ! 
 
 In the morning s silent freshness, 
 When the early dew lies deep, 
 
 On the grass that bends with lushness, 
 Where the hushed up crickets creep ; 
 
100 FEMME HEROIC. 
 
 Where the clover blooms in beauty, 
 
 And the meadow-lark lies still ; 
 Where the ancient bending yew tree 
 
 Clothes the barren rocky hill ; 
 Where the stream meanders slowly 
 
 Mid the willows, bending- low, 
 And the dwelling of the lowly, 
 
 Nestles mid the flowers that blow ; 
 Where the sun, in glinted glory, 
 
 Drops his spangled gold-rays through ; 
 And heaven s perfumed breath so holy, 
 
 Mingles with the censered dew ! 
 Where the bright cascade is foaming 
 
 Through the tangled wild-wood glade ; 
 And the antelope is roaming, 
 
 Neath the deep, umbrageous shade. 
 Where the speckled trout lie dreaming, 
 
 Neath the pebbly brooklet s breast ; 
 Where the sun s first rays are streaming 
 
 On the bluebird s downy nest ; 
 Where the ivy-burdened elm tree 
 
 Swings his century-dated arms ; 
 And the woodland echoes greet thee, 
 
 Filled with Nature s choral psalms ; 
 Where the mountain bathes his forehead 
 
 In the rumbling thunder storm ; 
 Gazing on the lowland florid, 
 
 Where is heard the cottage horn ; 
 There our Maiden often wandered, 
 
 Wrapped in Nature s endless round ; 
 
FEMME HEROIC. 101 
 
 And in silent stillness pondered 
 
 On the harmony profound ! 
 When the winds sweep down the mountain, 
 
 Blasting all beneath their breath ; 
 When the heavens 7 exhaustless fountain, 
 
 Buries all the plains beneath ! 
 When the sun breaks through in gladness, 
 
 Smiling on the world below j 
 And the sky forgets its sadness 
 
 In the sun s enlivening glow ; 
 Then she joins the blending chorus 
 
 With the songsters as they sing 
 With all Nature, round and o er us, 
 
 Joyous as the notes of Spring ! 
 And her merry laugh resounded, 
 
 Where the happy children meet ; 
 Where the verdant lawn is bounded 
 
 By the roses, fair and sweet ! 
 Thus our Maiden, in life s morning, 
 
 Drank morn s inspiration in ; 
 Thus the soul, in life s sweet dawning, 
 
 Did its priceless guerdon win ! 
 Thus the spirit, at life s fountain, 
 
 Trembled at the opening door, 
 Gazing up the distant mountain, 
 
 In the great forevermore ! 
 Thus, 0, thus her heart grew mighty, 
 
 In the ever-opening strife ! 
 And the loving God smiled brightly 
 
 In her heart and in her life 1 
 
102 FEMME HEROIC. 
 
 The roses are sweet, but the roses must fade ; 
 And the violets bloom where the loved ones are laid ; 
 And fresh is the morning that breaks on our sight, 
 But the morning soon fades into evening and night j 
 The lily blooms sweet by the rivulet s side, 
 But the petals soon fall on the down-flowing tide ; 
 And the leaflet bursts forth in the Spring s wooing 
 
 breath ; 
 
 But it fades, and it falls, in the winter of death. 
 ! tis rapture to love, when the young heart beats 
 
 high I 
 
 But the flowers of our love all blossom to die ! 
 And the Summer s warm breath, and perfume so 
 
 sweet, 
 Are but heralds that sigh of the Winter storm s 
 
 beat. 
 There is rapture in birth, when the young life is 
 
 born ! 
 
 But death only waits for the beautiful form ; 
 And the life that sings on in its usefulness here, 
 Hath a sorrowful strain, with a lingering tear 1 
 There s a beauty in life when we labor and wait 
 For the fullness of time, and the fiat of fate ; 
 When the hour hath its work, and the day hath its 
 
 round, 
 
 And each word that we breathe hath a silvery sound I 
 But the harsh notes of woe howl a wintery blast, 
 And the smile hath a sorrowful tear at the last. 
 0, the world needs her heroes, her children of light I 
 But they fall from her side, like the meteor s flight ; 
 
FEMME HEROIC. 103 
 
 In their glory and might, in their beautiful noon, 
 They fade in the silence of death and the tomb ! 
 0, the flower that is fair, the flower that is sweet, 
 Hath a life that is tender, and fragile, and fleet ! 
 But the poison oak grows where the fragrant flower 
 
 sighs, 
 In the sun s burning rays, till it fades and it dies ! 
 
 She loved : not as the infant loves, 
 
 That sleeps confiding on the mother s breast ; 
 Not like the birds within the groves, 
 
 Who sing their songs, then go to rest ; 
 Not like the flower, that views the sun 
 
 All day, and drinketh in his beams, 
 Until his ardent course is run, 
 
 Then sinks to rest, in dewy dreams ; 
 Not as the warrior loves loud fame, 
 
 And dares the maddening hour of fate, 
 That he may leave a hero s name, 
 
 And rest his ashes with the great ! 
 Not as the monarch loves the crown, 
 
 That circles round his regal head, 
 To tremble when he lays it down, 
 
 To sleep with his ancestral dead ; 
 Not as the planets float around 
 
 The central orb, that gives them light, 
 Content to trace the deep profound, 
 
 And sing their love songs in his sight ! 
 
104 FEMME HEROIC. 
 
 Not as the princess, in her pride, 
 
 Loves the bright dower her monarch brings ; 
 And stands exultant by his side, 
 
 The scion of a race of kings ! 
 Ah, no ! she loved the soul within, 
 
 Regardless of the tinsel s glare ; 
 Nor listened to the giddy din 
 
 That Fashion mingles in the air ; 
 She loved the soul that toiled and burned 
 
 With the grand fire that genius gives, 
 That through life s labors well had earned 
 
 The meed of praise that ever lives ; 
 She loved the spirit that could look 
 
 With curious eye on Nature s laws, 
 And in the ever-opening book, 
 
 With rapture sought the primal cause ; 
 She loved the heart that Time had set 
 
 His burning seal of love upon ; 
 And when they first in silence met, 
 
 The mutual pledge of love was won I 
 As upward, from the Eastern gate, 
 
 The rising sun to noon ascends, 
 So did their souls together mate 
 
 In mutual love, that never ends ! 
 The world was theirs, and in its life 
 
 They interfused a sacred gem 
 That calmed its passions and its strife, 
 
 And wore it as a diadem ! 
 Yes, they were one, by law divine ; 
 
 That law that rules beyond control ; 
 
FEMME HEROIC. 105 
 
 That law, dear friend, is yours and mine 
 
 The law of love within the soul ! 
 0, it was bliss to feel the breath 
 
 Of sacred love, forever near ! 
 It was an ever-verdant wreath, 
 
 Forever fresh, forever dear ! 
 And like the fabled Eastern maid, 
 
 The child of Araby the Blest, 
 Whose spirit dwelt within the shade 
 
 Of Oran s waters, in its rest ; 
 That wanders in the coral groves, 
 
 Where evermore the bulbul sings, 
 And mingles in the sinless loves 
 
 Of Fairies, clothed with golden wings ! 
 They felt the perfumed air of love 
 
 In every sense, in every vein ; 
 And all around, beneath, above, 
 
 They heard its sweet, harmonious strain ! 
 Conjugial love ! fairest and best 
 
 Of all the gifts to men below ! 
 Soft pillow, where the soul may rest, 
 
 And all its best affections grow ! 
 0, it was theirs this love to share, 
 
 In all its highest forms of joy ! 
 Its ever-blooming flowers to wear, 
 
 And in its light their lives employ I 
 Yes, life was sweet, whatever befell, 
 
 In health or sickness, joy or pain ; 
 In shade or sunshine, it was well ; 
 
 And every loss was love s own gain ! 
 
106 FEMME HEROIC. 
 
 0, joyous life ! when Nature brings 
 
 The pledge of love to loving hearts ! 
 The dear young life, that smiles and sings 
 
 The song of home, till life departs ! 
 ; Twas beautiful ! that love-bred flower ; 
 
 And on its fair and lovely face 
 There dwelt sweet Nature s subtile dower, 
 
 That marks a high and noble race, 
 Within the eye a liquid light 
 
 Lie deep and still, like distant heaven I 
 As if the soul must take its flight 
 
 To the fair realms where life is given ! 
 0, it was sad when the first blast 
 
 Blew on the rare and budding flower ! 
 And when the chilling winds, at last, 
 
 Brought on the sad and fatal hour, 
 The angels waited round the bed 
 
 On which earth s fairest love-flower lay, 
 And wreathed a garland round its head, 
 
 To wear where garlands ne er decay ! 
 
 Little rosebud drooping ; Opening rosebud dying ; 
 Trembling petals peeping, Out upon the sunlight ; 
 Creeping in their sepals, Shrinking from the frost 
 
 king ; 
 Drooping in the home bower, Breathing out its 
 
 sweetness ! 
 Love bird, drooping, singing, Trembling, swooning, 
 
 springing ! 
 
FEMME HEROIC. 101 
 
 Nestling in its warm nest ; Sinking to its long 
 
 rest; 
 
 Opening out in wonder, Eyes that want to slumber : 
 Wings that want their fleetness, Dying in their 
 
 sweetness : 
 
 Spirit struggling, flying, Little baby dying ; 
 Parents crying, sighing " Baby dying, dying ! " 
 
 ! the angels could not spare her 
 
 From the flowery walks above I 
 And the cherubs could not spare her 
 
 From their balmy home of love ! 
 The young Mothers could not spare her 
 
 From the heaven of infant life ; 
 The sweet Cupids could not spare her, 
 
 Struggling in this earthly strife ; 
 Heaven s heralds could not spare her 
 
 From the swift-winged, fleeting throng ; 
 And Heaven s songsters could not spare her 
 
 From their never-ending song ! 
 Kindred spirits could not spare her ; 
 
 They had watched the painful bed, 
 Wept and prayed, and lingered near her, 
 
 Wreathed a glory round her head ! 
 Now they bear her up, and onward, 
 
 In the sparkling, starry dome ! 
 Now they urge her spirit forward 
 
 To the fairer, higher home 1 
 
 ERSITY 
 
108 FEMME HEROIC. 
 
 And sometimes she bears a message 
 
 From the happy throng above, 
 Swiftly in her distant passage, 
 
 Burning words of hope and love 1 
 Singing, singing, to each spirit, 
 
 Sweetest music, soft and low ! 
 Mamma s soul was first to hear it 1 
 
 Mamma was the first to go ! 
 
 Sing on, angels ! strike each golden wire ! 
 Cherub and seraph, sound anew each lyre ! 
 Open the portals of your sacred grove, 
 And sing anew your burning notes of love ! 
 She hears your strains, she listens to your lay ; 
 She drinks the glory of your opening day 1 
 Listen, angels ! for the ^Eolian strain 
 That ushers in your midst her stainless name ! 
 Sing on your love songs ! for her gentle voice 
 Shall join the strain, and bid your hosts rejoice ! 
 Sing on your love songs ! she hath sung before, 
 In feebler tones, that music, o er and o er ! 
 Press round her, take in yours her lily hand, 
 And give her welcome to your fairest band ! 
 Press on her brow your purest, sweetest kiss, 
 And drown each tear in endless streams of bliss ! 
 Bring to her soul the burden she hath borne, 
 And bid her cease forevermore to mourn ; 
 Let it forever dwell close to her side, 
 And roam with her through regions fair and wide, 
 
FEMME HEROIC. 109 
 
 And she shall tell the story of her birth ; 
 
 The sorrows of the waiting ones of earth 
 
 Their silent tears ; the painful sighs that rise, 
 
 From human hearts, to spirits in the skies ! 
 
 ! marvel not, ye dwellers here below, 
 
 That the blest, sinless regions overflow 
 
 With love to man ! our messengers ascend, 
 
 Unceasingly, the ladder without end ; 
 
 Rehearse anew the sorrows that we bear, 
 
 And tell them of the crown of thorns we wear ! 
 
 Sometimes she comes the burden of my song 
 
 Bringing heaven s fairest, loveliest flower along ! 
 
 And on her waiting, faithful parent s head, 
 
 The fadeless, verdant wreath of love is spread ! 
 
 And to his ear the fondest words are given, 
 
 That made the home of earth the gate of heaven ! 
 
 Yes, she had fled from earth away ; 
 
 ; Tis seldom hearts like hers remain j 
 They, like the angels, only stray 
 
 One moment here, then mount again ! 
 Her work was finished ere the sun 
 
 Had quite attained his burning height ; 
 But, ! she thought it just begun 
 
 The hour she vanished from our sight ; 
 Yes, blessed soul ! thy work is yet 
 
 Before thee, in a higher sphere ; 
 And thy bright sun shall never set, 
 
 It only leaves us sorrowing here. 
 
110 FEMME HEROIC. 
 
 The perfume of thy loving breath 
 
 Shall bathe the hearts that think of thee, 
 And in the hour of pain and death 
 
 Shall whisper of the life to be ! 
 0, rural Maid, sweet Nature s pearl I 
 
 The lovely flower become a star ! 
 Unto our weeping eyes unfurl, 
 
 The waving flag that floats afar ! 
 We trace thy footsteps in the sand, 
 
 On which we tread the daily round : 
 And when upon the mount we stand, 
 
 We view thee in the vast profound ! 
 In the dear garden of our love, 
 
 Each flower more precious has become, 
 E er since the angels placed above 
 
 The fairest lily in her home ! 
 Roll on, Time ! Thou canst not dim 
 
 The vision of the coming day ! 
 Thou canst not drown the distant hymn, 
 
 That calls our spirits far away ! 
 Thou canst not take our loved ones now, 
 
 And drag them down to silent death ; 
 Immortal glory crowns each brow, 
 
 And life is not a fleeting breath. 
 Why do we sigh for those who sing 
 
 The everlasting nuptial song, 
 And dwell in never-ending spring, 
 
 The smiling, fadeless flowers among ? 
 Life weaves no more dark midnight s pall j 
 
 No more she gropes among the dead ; 
 
FEMME HEROIC. 
 
 But smiles and sings amid them all, 
 
 And shows the vision o er her spread ! 
 Lives of the wise, lives of the good, 
 
 Ye cannot die, or cease to be ; 
 No ! Nature s laws have ever stood, 
 
 And goodness lives eternally ! 
 Thus Beauty cannot pass away, 
 
 She only leaves the dying flower 
 In every sunny beam to play, 
 
 And smile afresh in Love s own bo^er ! 
 Sleep on, Maiden ! Flowers shall spring 
 
 Out of the dust that clips your form ; 
 And little birds shall wait and sing 
 
 Your praises in the opening morn ! 
 Sleep on, young Mother ! Fleecy dams 
 
 Shall crop the lawn above thy breast, 
 And whisper to their little lambs, 
 
 " Here Love and Innocence do rest I " 
 Sing on, Mother ! By thy side 
 
 A lovely form -is ever near ; 
 And death shall nevermore divide 
 
 The flowers of love that blossomed here I 
 
 Farewell, farewell to Columbia s daughter ! 
 
 The fairest and best in the land of the free ! 
 They were lonely above, ; till the death-angel 
 brought her 
 
 To dwell with them there, by the crystalline sea I 
 
112 FEMME HEROIC. 
 
 Farewell to thy form ! Neath the wide-spreading 
 prairie 
 
 It sleeps undisturbed in the Winter s cold blast ; 
 Thy labors below for the heavens did prepare thee ; 
 
 And now thou art home, with the angels, at last ! 
 
 The wild flowers bloom o er thee, and give us a token 
 That beauty but sleeps in its silent retreat ; 
 
 And the pledges of love shall never be broken, 
 But blossom afresh when the faithful ones meet ! 
 
 The beautiful bow of the Day-king bent round thee, 
 
 And doubled its colors to garnish thy rest ; 
 It was silent and sad, when in death-sleep it found 
 
 thee, 
 
 And thought how it kissed thee in childhood s 
 sweet nest I 
 
 We laid thee to rest, with our hearts full of sorrow, 
 
 And buried the harp of our joy in thy tomb ; 
 And the tears that we shed dimmed each beautiful 
 
 morrow, 
 
 And buried our souls in death s darkness and 
 gloom. 
 
 Farewell to thy voice ! Twas like music in sadness, 
 When sorrow is lost in a beautiful song ! 
 
 Twas like chiming of bells in the hour of our glad 
 ness, 
 And sings on our journey forever along ! 
 
FEMME HEROIC. 113 
 
 But, ! the dear heart, in its outgushing kindness ! 
 
 It lives with us yet in the journey we go ; 
 Twas the sunlight of heaven to the soul in its 
 blindness, 
 
 And dried up all tears in their sorrowful flow ! 
 
 Farewell ! we will mourn thee while Sorrow s sweet 
 
 fountain 
 Shall flow from the hearts that are true in their 
 
 love ; 
 
 Till we leave the dull earth, to ascend to that moun 
 tain, 
 
 Where love-songs shall blend with the music 
 above ! 
 
 Farewell ! till we meet where the heart sings for 
 ever 
 
 The love-song it learned in the valley of tears ; 
 Where sorrow and parting shall come to it never, 
 
 And Love s highest hope to the spirit appears I 
 
 Farewell ! till we rove in the beautiful gardens, 
 Where fragrance floats on in the infinite time ; 
 
 Where the buds that we gave to the heavenly war 
 dens 
 Shall blossom and grow in the ether divine ! 
 
 Farewell ! till we gaze on the gardens of God, 
 That shall gladden our sight, like an infinite sea, 
 
 7 Neath the glory that bends like a luminous flood, 
 O er the beautiful Now, and the good time to be I 
 8 
 
114 FEMME HEROIC. 
 
 Farewell to the form that was earthly and mortal I 
 Still thy spirit comes down to the loved ones of 
 earth, 
 
 And lingers below, till we enter life s portal, 
 To welcome us there to the spirit s sweet birth ! 
 
 " Farewell ! " echoes back from the realms of the 
 
 blest ; 
 And it sings to our souls like the perfume of 
 
 flowers ! 
 And the love angels sing, "It was best, it was 
 
 best, 
 
 For your loved one to come to our evergreen 
 bowers ! " 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 LITTLE BELL. 
 
 WHO trippeth early down the dell, 
 Culling the white flowers and the blue, 
 Still drinking in the morning dew ? 
 
 ; Tis Little Bell. 
 
 Who greet I, in that happy spell, 
 When silence reigneth all around, 
 Where the soft greensward clothes the ground ? 
 7 Tis Little Bell. 
 
 Who, peering in the eastern sky, 
 Eagerly watch the sun s first beams, 
 As beautiful as angels dreams ? 
 
 Tis Bell and I. 
 
 Who doth her joyous raptures tell, 
 
 Intoxicating my glad heart 
 
 With tones that never shall depart ? 
 
 Tis Little Bell ! 
 115 
 
116 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 Who, as the first bright sunbeams fell 
 On the swift running brooklet s breast, 
 Whispered me ; of a land of rest ? 
 
 Twas Little Bell. 
 
 Who kissed the cheek beneath her eye, 
 And said, " Together shall we be, 
 When we that land of rest shall see ? " 
 Twas Happy I ! 
 
 Why love T only thee so well ? 
 Because thy heart is ever bright, 
 And clothes thee in a happy light, 
 
 My Only Bell ! 
 
 I bought thee, but I would not sell 
 The treasure that my love hath bought ; 
 Its richness, miser knoweth not, 
 
 The Love of Bell. 
 
 Who saw the wild birds sing, and fly 
 Securely mong the forest trees, 
 Our hearts as light as was the breeze ? 
 ; Twas Bell and I. 
 
 Who sent up holy thoughts on high 
 When gentle moonbeams played around, 
 And love its sweetest moments found ? 
 Twas Bell and I. 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 117 
 
 Who marked the curfew s distant swell, 
 Whispering its music, how sweet ! 
 When we, my love, together meet ? 
 
 Thou, Loving Bell 1 
 
 Who clingeth, when I say " Farewell," 
 And presseth closer to my heart, 
 And softly saith, " We must not part ? " 
 Tis Little Bell. 
 
 Who pledge the love that shall not die, 
 While the long years shall pass us by, 
 And say " Good night 1 " with many a sigh ? 
 Sweet Bell and I. 
 
 TWENTY-ONE. 
 
 I M strong and free, and Twenty-one ; 
 Joyous as a bird in the sun ! 
 As full of hope, as full of glee, 
 As any son of man can be ! 
 
 I m Twenty-one. 
 
 I care not for the childish days 
 I spent, when listening to the lays, 
 Sung by the cradle or the bed, 
 When soothing words or prayers were said 
 I m Twenty-one. 
 
118 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 I love to roam among the hills ; 
 The mountain breeze my spirit fills 
 With bounding rapture ! and I leap, 
 With springing joy, from peak to peak ! 
 I m Twenty-one. 
 
 I d like a pair of wings, to fly 
 With the young eagles, up on high ; 
 I feel almost as light as they, 
 While watching their aerial play 
 
 I m Twenty-one. 
 
 I do not know, but sometimes think 
 They are a strange, mysterious link, 
 Uniting to a higher sphere 
 The human spirits lingering here. 
 
 I m Twenty-one. 
 
 They seem to bear me in their flight 
 (As on and upward, in the light, 
 They vanish from my straining sight), 
 To regions where there is no night 1 
 
 I m Twenty-one. 
 
 Twould be so good, while young and strong, 
 To soar up to the happy throng, 
 Like him who left the plains of earth, 
 Alive, to join angelic mirth ! 
 
 I m Twenty-one. 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 119 
 
 Departed food ones ! I would come 
 And greet ye, now I m Twenty-one ! 
 But yet it would be hard to go, 
 And leave the loved ones here below. 
 
 I m Twenty-one. 
 
 And there is one I could not leave 
 Alone in sadness, here to grieve ; 
 Her spirit sings, with joy elate, 
 Because I am to be her mate ! 
 
 I m Twenty-one. 
 
 Strange conflicts and emotions swell, 
 While memory flings her tender spell 
 Athwart my overflowing heart, 
 Like a magician s changing art. 
 
 I m Twenty-one. 
 
 Young life s a precious boon, I ween, 
 When love s sweet, tender light is seen 
 Smiling and bright ! for sadness flies 
 When love is seen in beauty s eyes ! 
 
 I m Twenty-one. 
 
 And so I m willing here to wait 
 My change, if it be soon or late ; 
 Hoping each coming day shall be, 
 As the glad time to-day I see, 
 
 Now I am Twenty-one ! 
 
120 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 A BIRD. 
 
 I M a meek little bird ; I fly and I sing 1 , 
 And flutter aloft on my plumed wing ; 
 I soar up above the grand lofty tower, 
 And twitter away each bright sunny hour I 
 
 I hide in the boughs of the leafy tree, 
 
 And sing out a clear, sweet melod3 T 
 
 To my listening mate, in her downy nest, 
 
 Who shelters our young with her yielding breast. 
 
 I wander afar by the brooklet s side ; 
 On its pebbly, shining banks I provide 
 For our tender brood, and the watcher there ; 
 And swift to the nest of our love I repair ! 
 
 I teach them to fly when the spreading wings grow, 
 And play mid the clover and daisies below ; 
 I sing to them softly, when back to their nest, 
 A sweet, dulcet lullaby, soothing to rest. 
 
 I live on in peace in the home that I love, 
 And I sleep in the boughs of the sheltering grove ; 
 Wake up with the sun, when he smiles in the east, 
 And chant to his praise, like a worshiping priest 1 
 
 I borrow no sorrow, but sing while I may ! 
 Sleep soundly all night, and live cheerful all day ! 
 Confide in the care of the All-seeing Eye, 
 Through my short happy life ; and then silently die ! 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 121 
 
 THE GRASS. 
 
 LITHE, waving grass 
 Beneath our feet, bending so low, 
 Looking like limpid waves that flow 
 When the light zephyrs gently blow ; 
 
 Thus passions pass. 
 
 The floating winds 
 Play on the grass, and heedless sing 
 Upon the honeyed insect s wing ; 
 And on th ^Eolian sylvan string, 
 
 Bring carolings. 
 
 
 
 Velvety lawn ! 
 
 Soft as maternal, loving breast, 
 Where childhood found its sweetest rest, 
 And lost its fears when fondly prest, 
 
 At eve and dawn. 
 
 Ah ! modest grass ; 
 Could we but dwell in the same place, 
 Neath the sweet heaven s bright smiling face, 
 Like thee, and cease Ambition s race, 
 
 Twere well, alas ! 
 
 Alas ! alas ! 
 
 We, like the winds, pass heedless on, 
 Kissing each flower, till one by one 
 They wither, and our hopes are gone, 
 
 Like faded grass. 
 
122 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 0, faded grass ! 
 
 We sometimes hope, like thee, to live 
 In gentle beauty, and to give 
 A deathless influence, that shall weave, 
 
 Before we pass 
 
 Beneath the sod, 
 A fadeless garment for the soul, 
 Make many a sorrowing spirit whole 
 On earth, and point a better goal 
 
 Above, with God ! 
 
 Then, when we fade, 
 
 The winds shall spread the fragrant smell, 
 And sing the loving, last farewell j 
 And many a lowly fond one tell 
 
 Where we are laid. 
 
 And we shall rise, 
 When the kind Father looks around 
 For sleeping children in the ground, 
 And with his favored ones be found 
 
 Beyond the skies 1 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 123 
 
 THE COURIER. 
 
 HAD I to choose a name, a blesse d name, 
 To place upon the scroll of present fame, 
 Or grace the annals of the coming age, 
 Whose light shall fill a brighter, better page ; 
 I d not be called a King, with sparkling crown, 
 Before whose presence, and whose august frown 
 Encircling courtiers feared, and smiled, and bowed ; 
 Whose ear was ravished by the thoughtless crowd ; 
 
 I would not be a plodding slave to wealth, 
 And, to be called a rich man, give up health, 
 And loving friends, and happy, happy home, 
 And sweet reflections in the time to come ! 
 I would not crave the name of him who leads 
 The minds of men with honeyed words, and pleads 
 The cause of passing passion to the ear, 
 That prompts the worthless, senseless, transient 
 
 cheer 
 
 Of lust and hate ; for these shall pass away 
 Like Chaos, in the light of coming day I 
 
 But, I I d drink the streams of wisdom past, 
 
 And learn from errors in the ocean cast 
 
 Of Time s deep surge, the lessons that shall live 
 
 Forever in the spirits that survive 
 
 Their transient reign ; would show the lessons bright 
 
 To earth s increasing multitudes, with light 
 
124 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 Drawn from the colors Nature s cunning weaves, 
 In beauty, in her flowers and trembling leaves ; 
 
 Drawn from her power, in watery torrents seen ; 
 Her love, in every radiant, sunny beam ; 
 Her voice, that speaks upon the pelting blast ; 
 And her sweet silence, in the valleys cast 
 On evening zephyrs. Silence, how sweet 
 To kindred spirits, who by moonlight meet 
 To whisper loving words to listening ears, 
 In youth s fresh joy, when future life appears 
 Like the fond vision, painted in the soul 
 Of purest saints ; their heavenly, happy goal ! 
 
 Pd be the Courier of the coming time, 
 
 To fill the thirsty soul with news divine ; 
 
 The hasty messenger, with willing feet, 
 
 To lift the poor from the recumbent seat 
 
 Of hopeless, aimless life, and fix his eye 
 
 On noblest aims ; which in his soul shall lie 
 
 Like precious jewels, sparkling like the dew j 
 
 And like the dew upon the thirsty flower, 
 
 Refreshing every laboring, weary hour : 
 
 I d smile away the dark, receding night, 
 
 And like the Day-star, fill the world with light I 
 
125 
 
 FRIENDSHIP. 
 
 HAST found it ? Hold it fast ; ay, feed it 
 
 With nectar from the gods I 
 If life is young, thou knowest not its 
 
 Priceless worth : 0, what odds 
 
 To thee, if Fortune s rods 
 
 Pursue thee ? If thy friend is by thee, 
 
 Then thou art still a host ; 
 Thy strength shall give thee wings like eagles , 
 
 Quick to the peaceful coast 
 
 To bear thee ; this thy boast 
 
 Thou hast a friend ! Fve seen misfortune 
 
 Leaning on its staff: bright 
 Was the eye ; though poverty, with rags, 
 
 Proclaimed its deadly blight, 
 
 Love lent her kindly light ! 
 
 Gold cannot buy it ; 0, richer far 
 
 The poorest wretch with this, 
 Than the hard miser counting his hoards ; 
 
 It giveth purest bliss, 
 
 And bringeth gentle peace. 
 
 Princes and kings have lived without it 
 
 0, no I they have not lived ! 
 (It is not every one that drinketh in 
 
126 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 Earth s air hath truly breathed 
 
 The breath of life :) they ve weaved 
 
 A little web ; admired its colors ; 
 Worn it as a robe ; glad 
 
 When the crowd admired it too ; listened 
 For their applause ; grew sad 
 When rage and scorn were mad. 
 
 Wouldst have a friend ? Seek virtue, goodness, 
 
 In their gentlest dress ; pride 
 Formeth not the casket where it dwells ; 
 
 Draw to thy loving side 
 
 Tried ones, long to abide. 
 
 The restless Corsican, when lonely, 
 
 Found one ; and such a one 
 Is found alone by Fortune s favored 
 
 Sons ; ah ! the bright sun 
 
 Forsook when she had gone ! 
 
 He knew her worth when brooding on the rock ; 
 
 And in his latest hour 
 He called in vain ; the broken heart was 
 
 Still ; the sad, withered flower 
 
 Was safe, beyond his power I 
 
 But He of Galilee, He found it ! 
 
 Amid the fiercest scorn 
 Of pride and passion, the lowly ones 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 12? 
 
 Loved him since he was born, 
 Till the sharp crown was worn. 
 
 Then, dying, he bequeathed it, left it 
 With his little ones ; gave 
 
 It to the sons of light, the sons of God ; 
 And the pure soul shall have 
 Its full fruition far beyond the grave I 
 
 FAREWELL. 
 
 TIME flieth : we must part, 
 
 Perhaps forever 1 Why, 
 Why do we shrink and start 
 
 When precious moments die ? 
 All things are thus on earth ; 
 
 The sweet, fond mother s kiss, 
 That clings to us from birth, 
 
 Alas 1 too soon we miss ! 
 
 The careless joy of youth 
 
 In the full prime is lost, 
 While its glad, gushing truth 
 
 On the world s wiles is tost : 
 And manhood s ardent hope 
 
 Expires in the full prime ; 
 And the sad heart doth grope 
 
 Before the parting time. 
 
128 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 Why doth the spirit cling 
 
 To Friendship s pleasant spell, 
 While every breeze doth bring 
 
 Upon its wings Farewell ? 
 We are but bubbles, thrown 
 
 Upon the howling blast, 
 Lost in its dying moan, 
 
 In silent caverns cast I 
 
 We dream but stubborn Fate 
 
 Stands like the rocky height ; 
 And while we fondly wait, 
 
 The vision leaves our sight : 
 Poor dreamers it is dark 
 
 When we awake to see ; 
 And the strained eyeballs smart 
 
 In night s infinity ! 
 
 One word, alone, is left 
 
 To mortals lingering here ; 
 And the dense cloud is cleft 
 
 With its bright flashing spear I 
 0, it is Faith, that sings 
 
 The distant, heavenly hymn ; 
 And through life s winter brings 
 
 The ever-budding spring ! 
 
 0, may its music swell 
 
 Through all life s coming days ; 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 129 
 
 And softly whispering, tell, 
 
 In sweet JSolian lays, 
 Of happy scenes in store 
 
 In the dear land of light ; 
 Where friends shall part no more, 
 
 And faith is lost in sight 1 
 
 MOTIVE. 
 
 WHAT dost thou live for ? 
 Livest thou for the baubles of a day, 
 For self-adornment ? Doth the sparkling gem 
 Fill up thy fancy, and thy soul contemn 
 
 The poor, courting the gay ? 
 
 What dost thou live for ? 
 Livest thou for these ? The poor butterfly 
 Is wiser far than thee ! for he doth leave 
 His wings before the wintry winds bereave 
 
 Him, and before he dies I 
 
 What dost thou live for ? 
 The antelope is freer far than thee I 
 He flies before the winter, and his breast 
 Inhales the mountain breeze, where he doth rest 
 
 Thou art not half so free 1 
 9 
 
130 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 What dost thou live for ? 
 Must Immortality preserve thy name 
 To distant generations ? What is this 
 To thy repose ? Is there one drop of bliss 
 
 Sealed in the urn of fame ? 
 
 What dost thou live for ? 
 Is it the bound that circumscribes thy lust, 
 That satisfies thy longing, human soul ? 
 The crawling reptile comprehends the whole, 
 
 Trailing in slimy dust I 
 
 What dost thou live for ? 
 Dost imitate the sponge, that sucketh up 
 The ocean, in his dark, voracious cell ? 
 Filleth thy barns and stores, and saith, " Tis 
 well " ? 
 
 How pitiful thy lot ! 
 
 What dost thou live for ? 
 Be a living soul ! Up to thy manhood I 
 Let the serpent drag his grovelling circles 
 On the slimy soil ; low passion dulls 
 
 The higher, greater good. 
 
 What dost thou live for ? 
 Life is an ample field for noblest toil ; 
 Thou need st not stoop below thy fittest place ; 
 Enough remains to do among thy race ; 
 
 Thy soul thou need st not soil. 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 131 
 
 What dost thou live for ? 
 
 Live for the captives ; make their spirits free ; 
 Spare not thy life when human wrong stands by 
 Imploring help ! Be strong : thou canst not die I 
 
 Thy Father keepeth thee ! 
 
 What dost thou live for ? 
 Fill thy heart with love : purest love to God 
 Will make thy spirit grow ; and mighty deeds 
 From thy right hand, for human needs, 
 
 Shall break Oppression s rod 1 
 
 What dost thou live for ? 
 Is life made so short that thou shouldst trifle 
 With the golden moments ? Work in earnest ! 
 Expand thy powers ! be sure thy firmest 
 
 Thoughts thou dost not stifle. 
 
 If thus thou livest, trouble not thy soul 
 
 With future ills ; thou hast a better goal 
 
 In the invisible, eternal sphere, 
 
 Than all thy happiest thoughts have painted here : 
 
 And when thy life is " rounded with a sleep/ 
 
 Some human hearts for thee shall fondly weep 
 
 The tears of joy, and in the blessed light 
 
 Of coming heaven a crown shall cheer thy sight I 
 
132 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 SHADOWS. 
 
 PAST, past forever, vain struggles of youth ; 
 Ah ! past forever its faith and its truth \ 
 Past, past forever its madness and mirth ; 
 And past forever the glitter of earth : 
 
 Shadows and shapes memory takes ; 
 
 Shadows that fly rapidly by ; 
 
 Shapes full of light, sinless and bright, 
 
 Come in the night, blessing my sight 1 
 
 Farewell to the hopes that lingered and sighed ; 
 
 Farewell to the passions that lure and deride ; 
 
 Farewell to the prospect that filleth the eye 
 
 With beautiful shapes, that blossom to die ! 
 Sweetly and low, floating below, 
 Under the trees, on the light breeze, 
 On my quick ear, cometh so dear 
 (Sent from above), music of love I 
 
 Time mocketh while the bauble slips ; 
 Time painteth red the dewy lips ; 
 Time laugheth when the eye is bright, 
 But grinneth when it dims the sight : 
 
 Ah ! cruel Time ! the sport is thine ; 
 
 Thy jeers and gaffs, thy merry laughs, 
 
 Thy scoffing wit, doth ever sit, 
 
 Mocking the brave, o er waiting grave I 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 133 
 
 Adown the ages shadows flit 
 And dance where gods and monsters sit, 
 Move softly round each sculptured tomb, 
 And haunt the ruined banquet-room : 
 
 Crumbling slowly shrines once holy ; 
 
 Shades grow shorter round each altar ; 
 
 Letting sunlight, as a birthright, 
 
 Spread, and cover earth all over I 
 
 / 
 
 Farewell to the shadows and shapes of the past ! 
 Farewell to the groans that swelled on the blast ! 
 Hail, songs of the mountains, that sing of the free, 
 And blend with the base of the limitless sea ! 
 
 CUPID. 
 
 VEXING, little, dimpled boy ; 
 Come, and fill me full of joy ! 
 Wounded, at thy feet I lie, 
 Since thou bad st thy arrows fly, 
 Rankling, like a poisoned dart, 
 In my inmost, panting heart, 
 Subject to thy cunning wiles, 
 Chilling flights, and winning smiles ; 
 Sleepless nights, and languid days, 
 Follow thy fantastic plays. 
 
134 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 Often, as I look around, 
 Listening for the gentle sound 
 Of thy pinions in the air, 
 Looking for the form so fair, 
 Sweetest music fans thy wings ; 
 Sweetest, that the zephyr sings ! 
 7 Neath the stars, it murmurs on, 
 When the busy day is gone ; 
 And the moon her softest light 
 Lendeth to thy song all night. 
 
 Daylight hath no charms for me ; 
 
 In its blaze I cannot see 
 
 The bright, lovely light that thou 
 
 Bringest on thy radiant brow 1 
 
 Dreaming all day, while the sun 
 
 Moveth in his glory on, 
 
 I, ? mid all things else most dull ; 
 
 Emptiest, when all else is full. 
 
 Come, come ! thy arts employ; 
 Turn my sadness into joy ; 
 Take me in thy fond embrace ; 
 Plant sweet kisses on my face I 
 Then I will riot let thee rove ; 
 Then I will hold fast my love, 
 Till I feel no more alone, 
 Till we are forever One! 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 135 
 
 PEACE. 
 
 SWEET, gentle Peace ! sweet as the air 
 Bathing the weary brow of care 
 In citron groves, and spicy bowers, 
 Under the moonbeam s silent hours. 
 Sweet is the hour when strife is mute ; 
 When, listening to the lover s lute, 
 The silent fond one, rapt and still, 
 Drinketh of love the spirit s fill I 
 
 Sweet as the curfew s distant sound, 
 While the one precious form is found, 
 Waiting to hear the welcome voice, 
 Laden like gales from Paradise ! 
 Whispering the vows forever dear 
 To the glad, listening, lover s ear ! 
 Those vows that never leave the heart, 
 While dwelleth there the living spark. 
 
 Sweet as the memory of the past, 
 The look of love, the first, the last ! 
 Sorrow and time take not away 
 The raptures that forever play 
 Like shining plumes on Memory s wings ; 
 Long as the natal angel brings 
 The first bright light of other days 
 That lingers in his purest lays. 
 
136 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 Gentle, gentle as the sound 
 
 Of kindest words, where love is found ; 
 
 Like cooings of the gentle dove, 
 
 When zephyrs dally in the grove ; 
 
 0, heavenly guest ! forever dwell 
 
 Forever let thy music swell 
 
 In this fair earth, that all may know 
 
 What blessings from the Father flow ; 
 
 Blessings as ample as the air ; 
 Blessings that all his creatures share ; 
 For all around, above, below, 
 The germs of sweet fruition grow ; 
 Full, pregnant buds, striving to peep 
 From the green husks in which they sleep ; 
 Waiting the sunshine and the dew 
 To bring their beauties to our view ! 
 
 0, holy Peace ! man cannot be 
 An angel till he loveth thee ! 
 0, laboring Earth ! when shall thy breast 
 (Which gives to the departed rest) 
 Be found as soothing, soft, and mild 
 To thy sad, weary, living child ? 
 When shall old War and Discord cease, 
 And every heart be filled with peace ? 
 
 I hear its dulcet song of love 
 Warbled in every shady grove ; 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 137 
 
 And on the evening s globes of light, 
 It falls like sun-flakes, pure and bright ; 
 It murmurs in the brooklet s glee, 
 And in the cascade s ecstasy 
 It leaps for joy ! and every breeze 
 Singeth in praise to thee Peace ! 
 
 MY GARDEN. 
 
 WHEN Phoebus peepeth o er the hills, 
 And winds blow fresh, my spirit fills 
 With bounding joy ; and on the ground 
 I fondly look, for there is found 
 
 My Garden I 
 
 Tis very large, and very sweet, 
 And many a flower the eye doth greet ; 
 ; Tis interspersed with many a grot, 
 And many a sloping, grassy spot 
 My Garden. 
 
 I do not vex the earth, or sow, 
 Nor toil, nor sweat, to make it grow ; 
 Nor plodding proxy place I there, 
 To take beneath his pruning care 
 My Garden. 
 
138 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 I have no parchment title-deed, 
 Yet doubt I not my right : I read 
 It on the ancient record, left 
 To me and mine, an endless gift 
 My Garden. 
 
 I mean, twas given to him who bore 
 My name : wide as the ample floor 
 Of earth and ocean are its bounds ! 
 And far as Nature s music sounds ! 
 My Garden. 
 
 Our family is very large ; 
 Yet none are pushed beyond the verge 
 Of the estate ; for even where 
 A brother dwells, I find just there 
 My Garden. 
 
 Some sickly child looks rather sour, 
 When I intrude upon his bower ; 
 But when I point him to the sky ; 
 He breathes to me in a soft sigh 
 
 "Thy Garden I" 
 
 Some brethren toil, and labor hard 
 To fill some little spot, and guard 
 Its beauties from my loving gaze ; 
 Then the tall trees proclaim the place 
 My Garden 1 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 139 
 
 One curious flower is ever nigh 
 My loving heart, and fills my eye 
 With constant pleasure, for I see 
 Its fragrant blossoms bloom for me ! 
 My Garden. 
 
 It maketh every other flower 
 More precious, by its gentle power ; 
 Clings to me fondly, while I gaze 
 On Nature s beauties, and I praise 
 My Garden. 
 
 ! what were Nature without thee ? 
 Her beauties concentrate for me, 
 
 In the sweet depths, that in thy petals lie I 
 And most of all, I there espy 
 
 My Garden. 
 
 1 do not think my eyes will weep, 
 If thou art with me when I sleep, 
 And wilt but promise me to dwell 
 
 Still there, where we have loved so well 
 My Garden 1 
 
 How many precious hours I ve spent 
 Beneath the smiling firmament, 
 Gazing thy growing charms to see, 
 Dreaming of love, and heaven, and thee, 
 My Garden ! 
 
140 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 On every flower, shrub, vine, and tree, 
 Hangeth a precious memory ! 
 And the soft greensward where I lie, 
 Transports me to the rest on high 
 Our Garden ! 
 
 PASTORAL. 
 
 YE living lawns, and wide-spread meads ! 
 Where Love her little lambkins leads ; 
 Where Peace, adown the flowery dell, 
 Weaves in the soul her quiet spell : 
 Where murm ring waters gently flow, 
 And lowing herds at noontide go 
 To drink the cool, refreshing stream, 
 And in its music sweetly dream ! 
 Where wild-birds chant in every tree 
 The matchless song of Liberty ! 
 Where sweetest flowers, of various dye, 
 Smile on the Day-king passing by ; 
 And when he sinketh in the west, 
 They calmly take their evening rest, 
 To sleep all night, beneath the spheres, 
 And wake in Morning s dewy tears. 
 
 0, silent walks, to friendship dear I 
 When Evening s social hour draws near ; 
 And the soft summer zephyrs sigh 
 To Day s last beams, that fade and die ; 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 141 
 
 Where dwells the maiden, mild and fair, 
 Mid Nature s scenes, and her sweet air ; 
 With heart as pure as mountain rills, 
 And joyous thoughts her bosom fills, 
 As in the groves she strolls and sings, 
 And drinks from Nature s sparkling springs ; 
 Culling the flowers with loving care, 
 To grace her flowing golden hair ; 
 Tripping along, with joyous feet, 
 Some loving swain with smiles to meet ; 
 With sinless heart and guileless eye 
 To Love s unsullied arms to fly ! 
 
 How calm the Sabbath morning dawns 
 Upon the verdant, wavy lawns ! 
 How tranquil is the Sabbath rest, 
 In Home s secluded cottage nest ! 
 What cheerful songs the children sing, 
 Where craggy rocks their echoes ring I 
 Eeverent and solemn, age and youth 
 Listen to words of love and truth ; 
 The lengthened locks, as white as snow, 
 Like threads of silver, wave and flow 
 From honored heads, that soon shall sleep 
 Beneath the dews that gently weep ! 
 How solemn, when the form lies low. 
 And tears of fond affection flow 
 From kindred hearts and ancient friends, 
 When life its devious journey ends ! 
 
142 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 Then faults are buried in the dust, 
 And Faith looks up with fearless trust 
 To Him who gave the infant breath, 
 And called the spirit home in death ! 
 
 Sweet Home ! amid the valleys green ! 
 Thy loveliest light is ever seen 
 Where simple, honest hearts are found, 
 And mingled songs of joy abound ; 
 Where Passion s curse hath never trod, 
 And Nature sings a loving God ! 
 Where kindness flows in every voice, 
 And makes the weary heart rejoice ! 
 Where age is calm as summer air ; 
 And youth is blithe, and free from care ; 
 And in the bonds of love are bound 
 Age, youth, and childhood s happy round! 
 
 Hence, curse d Lust ! your seething pool 
 Is found in cities : every fool 
 Flounders and grubs within your sty ; 
 The sensual, bloated, bloodshot eye 
 Gloats on the shadow thou hast made, 
 And rots and festers in its shade. 
 
 God made the country, and its flowers ! 
 Its sunny slopes, and shady bowers I 
 Its clustering shrubs, and giant trees, 
 That sing and murmur in the breeze 1 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 143 
 
 Its warbling birds, and lowing kine ; 
 The mountain-top, and precious mine j 
 Its wide-spread lake, and pebbly brook I 
 Each character in Nature s book 
 Stands out before our raptured sight, 
 An endless flood of living light 1 
 
 YOU AND I. 
 
 UP and down, far and nigh, 
 All belongs to you and I ; 
 When the sun gilds the east, 
 He is mine, and I his priest : 
 When the clouds mount up, and fly 
 In the deep cerulean sky ; 
 When they cast beneath the sun 
 Shadows on the horizon ; 
 When they rise, so pure and white, 
 Filled with Heaven s unsullied light 
 Like fleecy hills, built of snow, 
 Where the sun s bright rivers flow ; 
 When they drop down on the land, 
 Drops as round as grains of sand ; 
 When they re clashing in the fray, 
 Where the vivid lightnings play ! 
 When they re sleeping in the west, 
 Where the sun has gone to rest, 
 
144 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 Glowing in their golden dreams, 
 Drinking in his gorgeous gleams ! 
 When they re hanging like a pall, 
 Where the midnight vapors fall : 
 Through all shades of changing time, 
 They are God s, and God is mine ! 
 
 See yon tall and stately tree, 
 Waving where the winds are free ; 
 Where the eagle builds its nest, 
 That its callow brood may rest ; 
 Where the squirrel hides its young ; 
 Where the skylark pours his song ; 
 Where the wild flowers blush unseen, 
 In their beds of living green ; 
 And the fleet-foot antelope 
 Gambols down the grassy slope ; 
 Where the living, sparkling spring, 
 First begins his wandering ; 
 Where the dew-drops, clear and sweet, 
 In the wild-rose petals meet, 
 Sleeping there till Phoebus brings 
 Morning on his golden wings, 
 Painting with his magic brush 
 Nature s pink and pearly blush j 
 Where the evening zephyr brings 
 Perfume on its downy wings 
 Breathing in the floweret s breast 
 Gentle sleep and balmy rest : 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 145 
 
 Loving friend, these all are thine ; 
 They are God s, and thou art mine ! 
 
 Silent depths, unknown, divine, 
 Where the far-off sun-flakes shine ; 
 Worlds unseen, aad seen afar 
 In each distant tiny star : 
 Harmony sublime and grand, 
 From Creation s boundless strand, 
 Chimes forever through its maze, 
 To the all-Creator s praise ! 
 And the ethereal wind-harps round, 
 Echo back the notes profound ! 
 
 Beauty dwells above, below ! 
 And its gentle wavelets flow 
 All around, where er we go ; 
 And its buds and blossoms grow 
 On the mountain, in the glen, 
 Decking Nature s diadem I 
 Dwells in the heart, in the eye, 
 And in the soul s deep melody ! 
 In the scattered words of love ; 
 In the meadow, and the grove ; 
 On the earth, and in the air ; 
 In the song, and in the prayer ; 
 In the smile, and in the tear ; 
 Always ours, and always near I 
 In the depths of human woe J 
 In the heaven to which we go : 
 10 
 
146 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 Beauty s fount, unspent, sublime, 
 
 Is ours, dear friend, tis yours, and mine. 
 
 Oceans lave each distant shore, 
 Round and round forevermore ; 
 Calm and silent in their sleep, 
 As the infant s slumber sweet ! 
 But when winds and storms arise, 
 Leap in fury to the skies ! 
 Bearing on their dashing waves 
 Human hopes and human graves ; 
 Beating on the rock-bound coast, 
 In the furious tempest tost, 
 Precious freights and precious hearts, 
 While Hope s anchored cable parts, 
 Burying in the dreadful deep 
 Fond hearts, that shall forever sleep ! 
 
 "Weep not, though they lie so still ; 
 ; Tis the good Creator s will : 
 Let our spirits look above 
 For the absent souls we love ! 
 They no more are tempest-tost ; 
 They shall never more be lost ; 
 They have fled the briny wave, 
 And escaped the deep, dark grave : 
 They have fled, but they are free 
 As the wide, unfettered sea I 
 They have left our mortal sight, 
 Lost to us, but lost in light ! 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 Like the sun that sinks to rest, 
 In the dying, fading- west, 
 Soon again to rise and shine, 
 Full of love and light divine I 
 Love can never, never die ! 
 Nor, dear friend, can you or I. 
 
 OUR DAISY. 
 
 SAD the refrain, with silent tears, 
 
 That flow like raindrops while we praise thee ; 
 And memories of departed years 
 
 Sing round our souls, of gentle Daisy ! 
 
 Twas sunshine to the mother s heart, 
 
 Fed by thy smiles to love and praise thee ; 
 
 And to our eyes the grave looks dark 
 
 Where sleeps so sweet our gentle Daisy ! 
 
 Sigh soft, zephyrs, o er her bed ! 
 
 song-bird, sweetly sing, we pray thee ! 
 Grow soft and green over her head, 
 
 verdant lawn, above our Daisy ! 
 
 Wave lithe and graceful o er her grave, 
 When chilling fogs hang dark and hazy, 
 
 weeping willow, true and brave ! 
 Over the sleeping form of Daisy I 
 
148 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 Cluster, wild flowers, o er her head ! 
 
 Drink endless sunfieams, bright and mazy ; 
 The form below is cold and dead ; 
 
 But sweetly blooms above our Daisy ! 
 
 0, for the vision of the blest ! 
 
 In the sweet summer-land to trace thee, 
 Where thou art singing in thy rest, 
 
 " Come, loved ones, come and dwell with Daisy ! 
 
 EXCELSIOR. 
 
 RISE up, heart, my heart I 0, soar and sing ! 
 
 Though clouds ingulf thee, they shall pass away, 
 And Time shall bear thee on resistless wing 
 
 Beyond these fogs, up to a brighter day ! 
 
 No more Night s sombre pall hangs o er the plains j 
 No more the spirit gropes among the dead ; 
 
 But Day s unsullied opening splendor reigns, 
 
 And Life s full, radiant landscapes beauties spread I 
 
 No more shall Hate his impious brow adorn 
 In regal splendor, torn from Virtue s breast ; 
 
 But Love sweet infant in the manger born 
 Sings to the soul her song of endless rest ! 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 149 
 
 Blow on, impious Winds ! make oceans roar ! 
 
 Lash fearfully the sailor s fragile shell ! 
 He supplicates the deaf sea-god no more, 
 
 But mid the storm sings calmly, " All is well 1 " 
 
 No more the soul of fire sings his sad strain 
 In hopeless tones of sorrow and despair ; 
 
 For after death he strikes the lyre again, 
 And sings more sweetly in his native air ! 
 
 Farewell, farewell ! the fond ones whisper low, 
 While on the dying couch the dear one sleeps ; 
 
 But not farewell forever; for they know 
 Eternal Life her own dear children keeps. 
 
 0, what is life ? Is transient, changing time, 
 That circumscribes the heaven-born soul below, 
 
 Where harsh notes drown the heart s melodious 
 
 chime 
 0, is it here that life must live and grow ? 
 
 Ah, no ! we are but travellers passing through 
 The lowlands, where the air is dank and drear ; 
 
 Where flowers scarce drink the clear, refreshing dew 
 Before they fade, and leave us sorrowing here. 
 
 Then sing, loving heart ! though sorrows press, 
 And pierce thee with the sharp and barbdd spear ; 
 
 Behold, the earth puts on her cloudy dress 
 Before her star-eyed, fragrant flowers appear. 
 
150 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 The sun of life shines bright above them all ; 
 
 Still brighter shines as up the mount we tread ; 
 And soon heaven s gorgeous sun-illumined wall 
 
 Shall, like a glory, on our vision spread ! 
 
 OLD HOME. 
 
 I COME to thy breast, 0, Native Home 1 
 To drink of the limpid, sparkling foam 
 That I quaffed with zest in youthful days, 
 In the summer sun s bright burning rays. 
 
 I come to hear the sweet wild-birds sing, 
 As they used to do over the spring, 
 When my brothers filled the shining cup, 
 And laughed in my eyes while I drank it up. 
 
 I come to hear each familiar voice, 
 Which made my young, bounding heart rejoice 
 To hear the old songs that mingled there, 
 So wild and free, in my native air ! 
 
 I come to rest my sad, weary head 
 On the soft old downy yielding bed : 
 It is fevered now, and needs repose 
 From the burning tears and silent woes. 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 151 
 
 Thy sparkling waters are leaping still ; 
 But where are the feet that ran up the hill 
 So fleet and glad when my heart was light ? 
 0, cruel Time ! hast thou dimmed my sight ? 
 
 I hear them still, the sweet birds so free I 
 But I do not hear the young, boyish glee, 
 Nor the floating tones of my sister s song, 
 Awakening echoes the hills among. 
 
 0, tired heart ! Ah, why did it come 
 
 To sorrow, and break in the dear old Home ? 
 
 It cometh but once, that youthful time ; 
 
 But I love thee still, thou Old Home of mine ! 
 
 MUSIC. 
 
 MYSTERIOUS power ! unseen, but felt 
 By all ; making the passions melt 
 In the shrill numbers that are heard 
 From the sweet spirit of each bird ; 
 Or in the tones that float afar 
 On zephyrs wings from some guitar, 
 That mingles with the lover s sigh, 
 Or fills some infant s lullaby. 
 
 Tis heard in the pure mountain breeze, 
 Turning the branches of the trees 
 
152 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 Into sweet harp-strings, while they sing 
 The burden of each happy spring ! 
 Or with a bold, sharp, wintry hand, 
 Which forest monarchs scarce withstand, 
 Striking their gnarled limbs apace, 
 To a grand, wild, sepulchral base ! 
 
 ; Tis heard in childhood s happy glee, 
 Where er it roameth bright and free, 
 Where violets and bluebells bloom, 
 And Nature giveth ample room 
 For the young feet to bound and leap 
 Out where the speckled lizards creep ; 
 Where happy frogs express their joy, 
 And angling arts the time employ. 
 
 * 
 
 And how their swelling hearts rejoice 
 To hear the music of her voice 
 Who wearies not, but like the dove, 
 Sings her unchanging notes of love ! 
 Unchanging while that dove remains ; 
 Unchanging till the parting pains 
 Bring the sad period to the lays 
 That filled the home of youthful days. 
 
 Farewell, soft lays ! Though ye are past, 
 Ye dwell as long as life shall last 
 In our sad hearts. 0, there remain, 
 Till angels chant the dying strain ! 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 153 
 
 Ay, even then those lays shall cheer 
 The longing, listening, loving ear, 
 That dying, grasps each precious sound 
 That mingles with the angels round ! 
 
 Calm Evening ! music floats around 
 In thy enchanting curfew s sound ; 
 And echoed by surrounding hills, 
 Day s wandering, weary passions stills j 
 Soothes the sad spirit with its power, 
 And bringeth back each happy hour 
 On Morning s swift and plumed wings, 
 Which Evening in her stillness brings. 
 
 Ah, precious moments ! sad but sweet, 
 When gentle sounds of loving feet 
 Come tripping round in the soft breeze 
 That danceth through the quivering trees ; 
 And every leaf on which I tread 
 Sounds like the footsteps of the dead, 
 Come in the evering air to tell 
 The sadness of the last farewell : 
 
 Come in the evening air, to know 
 If the same fragrant blossoms blow 
 In fadeless beauty here below, 
 Like those where blessdd spirits go ! 
 They change not in the home above, 
 Where doubt nor fear shall cloud the love 
 
154 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 Too pure for earth, to good to stay 
 Where all the lovely pass away ! 
 
 Come, viol of the magic ring ; 
 And thou, soft flute, thy warblings bring ; 
 And thou, of more pretentious string, 
 Whose numbers charm us while we sing ; 
 And come, sweet, harmonious reed, 
 Whose quivering tremulo doth plead, 
 In moving sounds, sweet Pity s tears, 
 While Sorrow s melting lays she hears. 
 
 But thou, whose moving, melting fires 
 Devotion s noblest strain inspires ; 
 Thou of the deep, tremendous bass, 
 Whose vast capacities embrace 
 All other sounds of pipe or string, 
 Blending with human tones, which sing 
 Enrapturing songs, your music bring, 
 And make the aerial concave ring ! 
 
 Music s the medium to the skies, 
 By which, on holiest thoughts, we rise 
 Into His presence, ever blest, 
 Who giveth joy, and peace, and rest ! 
 Without sweet music, man would bo 
 Unfit, God ! for heaven and Thee : 
 But filled "with harmony and love, 
 He enters the bright realms above I 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 155 
 
 Music is but the overflow 
 Of heaven s full choir to man below, 
 Sent on some pitying angel s wing, 
 To teach poor mortals how to sing 
 Before they enter in heaven s gate, 
 Where blessed spirits congregate, 
 And sing triumphant peans, where 
 They weep no more, for God is there ! 
 
 HYMN FOR THE FOURTH OF JULY. 
 
 WRITTEN IN ENGLAND. 
 
 LAND of the brave and fair ! 
 Land of the patriot s prayer 1 
 
 Our joy and pride ! 
 Thy natal hour we sing, 
 And praise to God we bring, 
 Striking each tuneful string 
 
 On every side ! 
 
 Land of great Washington I 
 Down while the ages run 
 
 His name shall live : 
 And in the silent thought, 
 While noble deeds are wrought, 
 And Virtue s light is sought, 
 
 A blessing give. 
 
156 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 Let the loud cannon roar 
 The joy from shore to shore, 
 
 In loud acclaim ! 
 Till o er the earth is heard 
 The thunders of that word, 
 Till Liberty hath stirred 
 
 Earth s living flame ! 
 
 Fair land ! thy second birth 
 Shall cheer the sons of earth 
 
 Through coming time ; 
 Shall lead the Nations on, 
 Till Liberty is won, 
 And man is proved a son 
 
 Of the Divine ! 
 
 Father of all ! to Thee 
 Our highest praise shall be I 
 
 Thy sway we own : 
 The blessings of each hour, 
 The Nation s precious dower, 
 Are workings of Thy power ; 
 
 Thy gifts alone. 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 15T 
 
 GROWING OLD. 
 
 I M growing- old, and yet not very old ; 
 I still am dreaming of life s precious gold ! 
 Of streams and fountains, woods and shaded 
 
 rills ; 
 Of joyous rambles on the verdant hills ; 
 
 Of sinless love, of love that could not sin, 
 Because the turbid waters come not in 
 The silver stream when the high banks overflow, 
 Giving fresh beauty where its waters flow. 
 
 Still dreaming of the merry sparkling eye, 
 That made the sombre shadows quickly fly, 
 And filled my soul with present bliss, till I 
 Would not believe those joys could ever die ! 
 
 And yet tis not a dream that Fancy weaves ; 
 For I can turn and turn the lucid leaves, 
 As vivid as the meteor s flight, and see 
 The lovely form that drank its bliss with me ! 
 
 The earth is silent, and the pale, bright moon 
 Peeps in the casement, and I see the bloom 
 Of the sweet woodbine, and the fragrant smell 
 Brings more than sweetness. ! I cannot tell 
 
158 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 Why the dear shadow speaks not ! for it moves 
 Graceful, as when we wandered in the groves, 
 Whose zephyrs now are breathing to my ear 
 The soothing sounds they bring from the blest 
 sphere 
 
 Where dwells the lost one ; and now it beckons 
 Me away to the deep maze ! Who reckons 
 Time with me, must look beyond the shining 
 Of the sun s rays in the cloud s silver lining I 
 
 It beckons still I and on I press my way, 
 Till Death s soft night ushers me into day, 
 Where the flowers bloom that die not j and again 
 We ll sing together the sweet, joyous, strain 
 
 The strain of love, that inan"in feebleness 
 Singeth to Beauty in her youthful dress ! 
 The heart will ache ; but he who feeds its fires, 
 Gives blessed visions, which the soul inspires 1 
 
 Gives hope, and faith, and fancy s finest sense, 
 Felt in love s purest passion, parted hence; 
 And time may steal the past, but it shall bring 
 Love s riper fruits upon its speedy wing ! 
 
U r 
 
 159 
 
 HANNIBAL DRAMATIQUE. 
 
 O, for a muse of fire, that shall ascend the highest heaven 
 of invention ! SHAKESPEARE. 
 
 HAIL, sister of the sacred Nine ! * 
 Draw from the magic, mimic mine 
 Of regal fancy sparkling gems, 
 That trickle from the comic pens 
 In gaudy colors, sharp and bright ; 
 In Wit s quick flashes, full of light ! 
 Full of light, full of love, 
 Like the distant lights above I 
 
 Then drown us in the precious pool 
 Of pity for the beautiful ; 
 Fill us with sympathetic fire, 
 While Passion strikes the golden wire 
 Of human sorrow, deep and low, 
 Till the rapt listeners drink the woe ; 
 Till man, in woman s tears, shall find 
 The precious hopes of human kind 1 
 Tragic sorrows ever 
 Raise our best endeavor. 
 
 Ah, noble powers to man are given 
 To lift the spirit up to heaven ; 
 To bid him look above the sod, 
 And converse with his Father God ! 
 
160 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 To lead his fellows in the way 
 That promiseth a better day, 
 A better life ; whose end shall be 
 The welcome of Eternity ! 
 How beautiful the hope 
 
 That lifts the spirit up I 
 
 * 
 
 Go on, and fill this rapid age 
 With trophies worthy of the page 
 Of coming time ; for ye, perchance, 
 Through your strong genius shall advance, 
 0, youth of Hannibal ! your race, 
 In fitness for the better place, 
 And Inspiration s highest rage 
 Shall send her lessons from your stage ! 
 Let bigots inly cower, 
 Beneath your wondrous power. 
 
 The world is full of motives ; look 
 On the wide, open, passing book 
 Of mind and matter ! holiest faith 
 Lies palsied neath old bigots breath ; 
 Give her the antidote that lifts 
 Man s conscious knowledge to the gifts 
 Of Him, who fills the boundless range 
 Of Nature, smiling in her change : 
 Eternal change ! in thee 
 Our changeless hope shall be 1 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 161 
 
 THE LAST TIME. 
 
 PAST moments, precious hours ! 
 Past moments, mid the flowers ! 
 Past memories, 0, how fleet ! 
 How transient, but how sweet ! 
 Like arrow sped, or beauty dead. 
 
 Murmur, zephyrs, low, 
 While our sad footsteps go 
 From these familiar scenes, 
 Life s blessed, living dreams ! 
 Why dost thou break the dream, Fate ? 
 
 Memory, treasure up, 
 Within thy magic cup, 
 The precious golden past, 
 Now in Time s ocean cast : 
 When earth is still, we ll drink our fill. 
 
 0, monumental stone ! 
 Bleak winds shall round thee moan, 
 And sing, " Alone ! alone ! ! " 
 Where we the flowers have strown : 
 Our ears shall long to hear the song I 
 
 Farewell, ye living pines ! 
 Ye everlasting signs 
 11 
 
162 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 Of fadeless Eden bowers, 
 And heavenly mansion towers I 
 Ye need not fear the winter near. 
 
 Ye winding walks, farewell ! 
 How many a quiet spell 
 Our lingering feet have trod 
 In rapture on your sod ! 
 And now we grieve these walks to leave. 
 
 Clear fountain, sparkling spray ; 
 We ll think,. when far away, 
 Of thy transparent light ; 
 How beautiful the sight, 
 When colors blend, which sunbeams send ! 
 
 Farewell, fond ebon Night ! 
 . Each distant, sparkling light 
 
 Hath listened to the sigh 
 
 By angels borne on high, 
 And placed above, in realms of love 1 
 
 It lives a floweret there, 
 Beyond Earth s cankering care, 
 Where beauty, bright and fair, 
 Blooms in the holy air ! 
 There love shall roam in her own home I 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 163 
 
 ELMWOOD CEMETERY, DETROIT. 
 
 SPIRITS of the sylvan shades ! 
 Often as the daylight fades 
 I will seek thy silent grots, 
 Seek the unfrequented spots, 
 Dimpled valleys, fresh and green, 
 Hiding from the sunset sheen, 
 Like the maiden in the grove, 
 Shrinking as she tells her love I 
 
 Shrinking from the eager light 
 Glowing in his eye so bright I 
 Mid the happy solitude, 
 Where no listener doth intrude, 
 Ardent as the sunbeams are, 
 On the lovely form so fair, 
 When the raptured lover pressed 
 The fair lily to his breast ! 
 
 Mimic hill-sides rise and fall 
 In thy shades, so dear to all ; 
 Dear as life and death to rne 
 Every shrub and every tree ! 
 On thy slopes the tangled vine 
 Clusters round this heart of mine I 
 Clusters full of memories sweet, 
 For beneath its shades we meet I 
 
164 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 Pillared names, of great renown, 
 Grandly do thy summits crown I 
 Proud their marble columns rise, 
 Pointing upward to the skies, 
 Pointing upward from the sod, 
 To the holy hills of God ! 
 Upward, spirit ! noble worth 
 Scorns the cerements of earth I 
 
 Modestly, adown thy slopes, 
 Rise the signs of buried hopes : 
 Gentle hearts have gone to rest ; 
 Gentle hands the sods have prest ; 
 Fragrant flowers are nestling too, 
 Drinking in the gentle dew 
 Near the little dear one s feet, 
 In its painless, last retreat I 
 
 Lustily the pine doth grow, 
 Shading sleepers down below ; 
 When the north wind blows he sings 
 Dirges for departed kings ! 
 When the autumn zephyr sighs, 
 Singeth he of tender ties I 
 Dearer have the loved ones grown 
 Since they left us, sad and lone I 
 
 Gladly sadly oft I tread, 
 Silent forest of the dead, 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 165 
 
 Thy soft walks, for fittest there 
 Breathe I forth my evening prayer ; 
 Breathe I to the holy One 
 Softly to His ear alone : 
 Life and death here mingle round, 
 And this place is holy ground ! 
 
 In thy fountain spray I view 
 Colors of the rainbow hue ; 
 Calm, away from busy strife, 
 Promise of the fount of life 
 Murmurs in my listening ear 
 From thy dewy spray so clear : 
 Thy bow of promise and bright foam 
 Point me to that better home ! 
 
 Better home, with no more death ! 
 No more pain from parting breath ! 
 No more drooping, tender plants 
 Pining mid the happy haunts 
 Of the spirits grouped around, 
 Where the enrapturing harp-notes sound, 
 Echoing down the sloping banks, 
 Chorused by the shining ranks ! 
 
 Shining ranks, forever bright, 
 In ineffable, full light 
 Of the fount of life and joy 1 
 There the spirit doth not cloy, 
 
166 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 But it drinketh evermore, 
 Fount of Life, of thy rich store ! 
 Love and Friendship there shall dwell, 
 And all hearts sing, " It is well ! " 
 
 FRATERNAL LOVE. 
 
 FRATERNAL LOVE ! visible sign 
 Of the pure heart ! In that rich mine 
 Lie treasures twinkling like the stars ! 
 That jewel in the hand of Mars, 
 That won fair Venus from her seat, 
 And placed the goddess at his feet I 
 Thou priceless pearl ! 0, could we see 
 This sad, sad world striving for thee I 
 
 Thou purest One ! to thy fond breast, 
 God s little ones were fondly prest ; 
 The sisters 7 cries, the widows 7 tears, 
 Moistened thine eyes ; thy listening ears 
 Drank in the sorrowing tide which flows 
 From human wrongs and human woes ; 
 And thy kind lips dropped gentlest dew, 
 To mould the human heart anew. 
 
 How long, thou laboring world, how long 
 Ere the full harmony of song, 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 16T 
 
 Shall flow and echo, far and wide, 
 Like Earth s free air and Ocean s tide ? 
 ! never yet, since angels sang 
 That loving song, " Good will to Man ! " 
 Has the grand chorus echoed back 
 Its music through the starry track. 
 
 How long, God ! before thy plan 
 Shall give a brotherhood to man ? 
 Make all Earth s sons thy chosen race ; 
 Fraternal love on every face ; 
 And brothers woes, and brothers tears, 
 Find none but sympathizing ears ? 
 When hoarded millions cease to rise 
 To vex the Holy One ? whose eyes 
 
 Pass them not by (the haughty crew), 
 Whose proud eyes lifted, scarcely view 
 The toiling millions, without hope, 
 Mid the oppressor s hordes, to cope 
 Successful for life s common boon ; 
 And the wide world hath scarcely room 
 To give each son a tranquil spot, 
 For lucre blights the common lot. 
 
 Eeligious forms, and codes of state, 
 Do not avert the common fate ; 
 The ermine and the sacred gown 
 Bring not the promised blessing down ; 
 
168 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 For that upholds the ancient way, 
 And this must please the rich and gay ; 
 One talketh learnedly and long ; 
 The other whines, and winks at wrong. 
 
 Both bound by custom, lucre, place, 
 To feed and fatten on the race ; 
 Both teach contentment, thus to bind 
 The burdens tighter on mankind ; 
 Both flatter, with a visor ? d face ; 
 Both wink at wrong, and boast of grace : 
 While one doth wield the oppressor s rod, 
 The other thunders like a God ! 
 
 The sacred canon passeth by 
 The " postern of a needle s eye ; " 
 And Dives smiling, looks around 
 Where Lazarus crawls upon the ground; 
 While mansions, tall and stately, rise 
 For rich men, neath the smiling skies, 
 The poor must still, as ever, wait 
 With dogs, around the rich man s gate. 
 
 Ye bards of free and fearless verse I 
 Who dare the wrongs of man rehearse, 
 (For Freedom, since the ancient time, 
 Hath dwelt among the sacred Nine ;) 
 Raise your bold numbers, and proclaim 
 Your burden ! like the ancient flame 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 169 
 
 That burneth ever warm and bright 
 
 With sons of song, "The human right ! " 
 
 Freedom and love, and holy song, 
 Shall yet redress each human wrong ! 
 Religion, reason, justice, yet 
 Shall bounds to pride and lucre set ; 
 And in this world of busy strife 
 Shall the great boon of human life 
 Be fetterless, and Man shall see 
 In each a Brother, just and free ! 
 
 IMMOBILIA. 
 
 LIST ! what think ye of the ages ? 
 
 Can ye stop their onward flight ? 
 And what think ye of the wages 
 Of the suffering sons of light ? 
 Would ye bind them where ye find them ? 
 Seek ye sorrow for the morrow, 
 
 Such as fed Oppression s night ? 
 
 Listen to the passing warning : 
 
 Hear ye not the smothered sigh ? 
 Darkest night brings sudden morning 
 
 To the waiting prophet s eye ! 
 Can ye lengthen, can ye strengthen 
 Bygone darkness, ye heartless ? 
 
 Gloat ye while Wrong s victims die ? 
 
1YO MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 Doth it make your pleasures sweeter 
 
 Viewing brothers wrongs and woes ? 
 Do your cloudy hours pass fleeter 
 
 In the murmuring blast that blows ? 
 Heed the thunder, ere ye wonder 
 At the ruin that is brewing 
 
 For the strongest tree that grows ! 
 
 Must the song of Bethlehem slumber 
 
 (Buried neath the passing years) 
 Till each heavenly, loving number 
 Comes alone in sobs and tears ? 
 0, ye mountains, loose your fountains ! 
 Haste to borrow Earth s long sorrow, 
 Till the better time appears ! 
 
 Sons of Fortune, ye are sleeping 
 
 While the torrent sweeps along ! 
 Millions of your race are weeping 
 
 While ye sing the siren song : 
 Time is flying, men are dying ! 
 See God s finger, while ye linger, 
 
 Pointing to Earth s waiting throng 1 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 171 
 
 COMBINATION. 
 
 MEN of labor ; men of thought ; men of skill ; 
 Wake from your slumbers ! bid tyrants be still ! 
 Place shoulder to shoulder ; march out in one line ; 
 And this be your motto : " We all will combine ! " 
 
 How long, do you think, could your masters hold out, 
 7 Mid their sports, and their vile dissipation, and 
 
 gout, 
 
 If ye would but march in one resolute line, 
 With your flag on the breeze, and the watchword, 
 
 "Combine 77 ?! 
 
 How long will ye work for the bread of to-day, 
 While idlers shall turn from their door-steps away 
 Your sons and your daughters ? Come, march in one 
 
 line, 
 With the flag up aloft, and your watchword, 
 
 " Combine 77 ! 
 
 Say, men of the hammer, come, tell me, I pray, 
 Why work ye for less than ten dollars a day ? 
 Your limbs soon grow old, and then you must pine 
 In weakness and want, unless you combine. 
 
 Why wait for the rich to come to your aid? 
 Will they give your children their clothing and 
 bread ? 
 
172 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 No, no ! 0, march forward, come, march in one line , 
 With music and banners, and shouting " Combine " ! 
 
 Ask Nature to whom should her treasures belong 
 To the sloth, or industrious hand of the strong ? 
 For whom should the rubies arid diamonds shine ? 
 And she answers, " To those who both work and 
 combine. 7 
 
 Say, sons of the poor, why should you not stand 
 On a par with the sons of the rich in our land ? 
 Why bow down your heads in your beauty and prime 
 To the owners of wealth ? Wake up, and combine ! 
 
 How long could their ships and their steamers 
 
 sail on, 
 With their pride and their wealth, if your labor 
 
 was gone ? 
 Their wealth would all sleep neath the rocks of 
 
 the mine 
 If your labor should cease : then awake and combine ! 
 
 They say, in their pride, " Cobbler, stick to your 
 
 last ; 
 
 And with Obloquy s finger, insultingly cast 
 Their gibes and their jeers. Let this be a sign 
 To rouse you to thought, and make you combine ! 
 
 Ye boast of your freedom in this our dear land : 
 Then why not demand for the work of your hand 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. H3 
 
 An ample return ? 0, rest not supine, 
 
 But swell the grand chorus, " We all will combine ! " 
 
 Come, work for yourselves ; to each other be true ; 
 Nor trust in the rich, whatever ye do : 
 They always betray, though their words may be fine : 
 Ye must trust in each other, and haste to combine ! 
 
 Bring your sons and your daughters, wherever ye 
 meet ; 
 
 Let your hearts join as one, and your union be sweet ; 
 
 Come with music and mirth, with your footsteps 
 keep time, 
 
 While the chorus rings forth, "Well forever Com 
 bine ! " 
 
 WASHINGTON S BIRTHDAY. 
 
 TWENTY-SECOND OP FEBRUARY. 
 
 HAIL, sacred day ! auspicious morn ! 
 When Liberty s fair Child was born ! 
 Flow on forever, gently lave 
 Thy banks, Potomac ! let thy wave 
 Glide gently down the flowery plains, 
 Where song-birds chant the dulcet strains 
 Eagle, hold thy banner high 
 Above the storm, beneath the sky, 
 
174 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 And look below, and all around, 
 For far beneath thy gaze is found 
 Fair Independence ; and thy boast 
 Is heard on east and western coast : 
 And in the cheerful, peaceful song, 
 We bless the name of WASHINGTON 1 
 
 Not his the proud invader s name ; 
 Not his the bloody tyrant s fame : 
 His boast was not " the scourge of God ; 
 His lance was not the despot s rod 
 When he was born, the angels sang, 
 " Rejoice, Earth I an honest man 
 Is yours to-day !" His body sleeps 
 Beneath the dew, that gently weeps 
 A Nation s tears ; and gently sigh 
 The moaning zephyrs passing by : 
 And dear Potomac floweth nigh 
 The sacred relics where they lie 
 A Nation s boast, a Nation s pride I 
 ; Twas here he lived, and loved, and died; 
 Twas here his feet first pressed the sod ; 
 And here he sought his Father God ! 
 
 Columbia, weep no more your dead 1 
 His noble spirit only fled 
 Your mortal vision ! He no more 
 Is seen upon this earthly shore : 
 But he still lives, and from above 
 Inspires the nations with his love : 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 175 
 
 Still looketh down on us below, 
 And bids a blessed influence flow 
 Adown all time : till king and slave 
 Are buried in one common grave. 
 Then welcome ! welcome ! be our song, 
 O Natal Day, to WASHINGTON I 
 
 THE MARTYR. 
 
 HE stands amid the storm a beacon light ; 
 
 Impending clouds threaten his lifted head ; 
 Vile, hissing scorn, like howling winds of night, 
 
 Fall on the ears of men with doubt and dread. 
 
 Dark ignorance, and imitation s slave, 
 Cluster around him like a mighty pall ; 
 
 But with his wand of truth, and spirit brave, 
 He breaks the cerituried adamantine wall 1 
 
 Earth shrinks in fear ! hell hurls her lurid hate I 
 Systems and laws in silent terror lie ! 
 
 The sculptured pillars of old custom shake I 
 
 And falsehood s lessons shrink, and pine, and die, 
 
 Tasso ! sing of thy Jerusalem I 
 
 Sing of a Godfrey, and a Richard brave ! 
 
 Thy heroes might not touch the garment s hem 
 Of him who dies for truth, and frees the slave. 
 
176 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 Smile not upon him, ye who pander low 
 To human passions : he doth live above 
 
 Your transient lusts. Poor souls, how Can ye know 
 The spirit s pleasures that doth live on love ? 
 
 And would ye immolate his life to hate 
 
 Because ye cannot grasp the golden fruit ? 
 
 The worm is but the child of stubborn fate, 
 And cannot sing to sweet Apollo s lute I 
 
 How calm he sings when discords loudly roar ! 
 
 How bright his eye when charming serpents 
 
 sing ! 
 He on the mountain-eagle s wings shall soar, 
 
 Above the crawling reptile s venomed sting ! 
 
 Hail, Martyr of th historic ancient time ! 
 
 The smallest bird may now your praises sing ; 
 Hatred and scorn, and cruel death were thine ; 
 
 The phoenix flew to heaven on flaming wing 1 
 
 Hail, warrior of to-day ! the bitter strife 
 Is but the thorny road to just renown : 
 
 The poisoned dart shall pierce thee, but thy life 
 Waits calmly for the sparkling, jewelled crown ! 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 A CROCHET NEEDLE. 
 
 DEAR little friend ! idle, sad, and alone ! 
 Those dear, deft fingers forever are gone : 
 Nimble and swift were the motions you made 
 Ere the sweet owner in silence was laid. 
 
 Weaving and tatting, so cunning and quick, 
 Like a magician with juggling trick, 
 Fashioning thoughts into beautiful flowers, 
 To float, and to wave in the sweet sunny hours I 
 
 Making a border for baby s new dress ; 
 Weaving a bow for a beautiful tress ; 
 Fashioning something for sister s sweet face ; 
 Draping her bosom with beauty and grace I 
 
 Hanging a wreath on the dear mirror there, 
 That mimicked her face, so laughing and fair ! 
 Edging the soft, downy pillow of snow, 
 Where the long ringlets would gracefully flow. 
 
 Thou valueless instrument, scarcely seen 
 
 By the stranger, who knew not thy mistress, I 
 
 ween ; 
 
 But the relics of those we love seem to bring 
 Their forms to our hearts on Memory s wing ! 
 12 
 
178 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 And may not the hands that clasped thee when here 
 Have left a sweet impress, so silent and dear 
 To those who remain ? and a blessing bestow 
 To the loving ones watching and waiting below ? 
 
 And may not the spirits in heaven above 
 Sometimes linger near the dear friends that they 
 
 love, 
 
 And sanctify to them the things of the earth, 
 And make them, than gold, more precious in worth ? 
 
 I prize thee, sweet trifle, as part of the past ; 
 A sun-ray on Memory s horoscope cast ; 
 A plume from the wing of the bird that has flown ; 
 And plant thee where love and its sorrow hath 
 grown ! 
 
 GOD. 
 
 FOUNT of all Being ! Light of every Star ! 
 
 Unfathomed Ocean ! measureless Expanse ! 
 Brighter than all the constellations are ! 
 
 Thy Law is all supreme o er time and chance. 
 
 The oceans roar, and lash their furious waves { 
 The lightnings flash, and thunders roll along ! 
 
 The pent volcano frets, and fumes, and raves ! 
 All are but motes in Thy harmonious song ! 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 179 
 
 The nations worship at Thy sentient shrine, 
 
 And call thee Jove, or Josh, or Allah great ; 
 
 I AM, JEHOVAH ! every name is thine 
 That knows no present, past, or future state I 
 
 Vast, boundless circle I distant and profound ! 
 
 Minute and viewless centre, all in all ! 
 Comets and suns revolve the endless round ; 
 
 And like the insect at Thy feet they fall. 
 
 Silence and solitude, and sombre night ; 
 
 Bright, flaming, burning suns, and endless day, 
 Are parts of the same central Source of light ; 
 
 And in its distant circle endless play. 
 
 Informing Spirit ! life of every soul ! 
 
 From the small moth, to angels in their flight ; 
 Corporeal Being 1 from the sands that roll, 
 
 To suns and planets, in their sparkling height. 
 
 Centres and shining spheres are but the dust 
 Upon the floor of Thy divine abode ! 
 
 And chainless ether but the yielding crust 
 
 That bathes the boundless, blessed hills of God ! 
 
 0, finite Mind I thou art the highest star 
 
 That soars and sings beneath the central blaze ; 
 
 Thou measurest worlds and systems up afar, 
 Within thy searching, wondering, distant gaze 1 
 
180 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 And yet how small thy mimic feeble powers, 
 
 Compared to Him, who rules the endless round ! 
 
 As dew-drops to the ocean, or as flowers, 
 
 Compared to the bright sun, with rays profound. 
 
 Thou distant Sun I yet ever closely nigh 
 
 Each soul that lives within thy loving beams, 
 
 Thy spirit breathes in every sorrowing sigh, 
 And gladdens all things in its solar streams ! 
 
 We cannot know Thee ; we can only see 
 Some rays of light from Thy divinity ; 
 As the gay warbler takes his garments on 
 AVith borrowed plumage from the distant sun. 
 
 0, mighty Mind ! Author and Friend of all ! 
 
 We cannot comprehend Thee ; but we give 
 To Thee our praise, and upon Thee we call 
 
 To help us, as in Thee, like Thee to live 1 
 
 REST. 
 
 DEAR Rest, we sigh, and wait to see 
 The murmuring streams that sing of thee. 
 The toiling hours and steps of pain 
 Mock at our hopes, and call them vain : 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 181 
 
 We labor neath the noontide heat, 
 And run the race with weaiy feet ; 
 We share a brother s heavy load, 
 Who halts and tarries on the road ; 
 And in the soul s unselfish love, 
 Where er we stay, where er we rove, 
 A brother s woe, a sister s tear, 
 In love and sadness bring us near. 
 
 ; Tis sweet to cast a lucid ray 
 
 Of sunshine on the traveller s way ; 
 
 And when dark midnight clothes him round 
 
 In the black pall, intense, profound 
 
 To whisper to his listening ear 
 
 Substantial sympathy and cheer ; 
 
 But in this world, where faith and trust 
 
 Lie prostrate in the pool of lust, 
 
 The earnest soul, not understood, 
 
 Grows sad and weary doing good ; 
 
 While senseless pomp, in proud array, 
 
 Passes the jocund hours away. 
 
 The sluggard takes his daily food, 
 Prepared by his industrions brood, 
 And whiles the lazy time away, 
 That circumscribes life s listless day : 
 The earthworm trails in slime and dust, 
 And human vampires live in lust, 
 Dragging down from its native skies 
 The finest bird of Paradise ; 
 
182 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 Gazing upon its plumed wing 
 Unmoved, to hear it sweetly sing ; 
 Charming its heart with eyes of fire, 
 Till faint and wounded it expire ; 
 Bleeding, and struggling, and distressed, 
 It panting faints, and sinks to rest. 
 
 But cease thy murmurs, child of woe : 
 
 While human passions ebb and flow, 
 
 While time creeps on with silent tread, 
 
 When tears have flown, and love lies dead ; 
 
 When Death has snatched thy pearl away, 
 
 And thou beholdest silent lay 
 
 The casket ; cease, 0, cease to weep ! 
 
 It is the calmest, sweetest sleep : 
 
 That brow is now no more opprest, 
 
 Of all its slumbers this is best ! 
 
 That heart no more in sadness bleeds 
 
 For sin and sorrow while it pleads ; 
 
 Those quiet feet no more shall start 
 
 At Slander s tongue or Envy s dart ; 
 
 Those fixe d eyes no more shall turn 
 
 From scenes where Hate and Vengeance burn. 
 
 That tongue, that soothed thy weary hours, 
 Is heard no more in earthly bowers ; 
 Those fingers, rigid now, and still, 
 No more thy leaping blood shall thrill; 
 And the firm love that filled that breast, 
 That now in withered flowers is drest, 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 183 
 
 Shall swell no more its orbd bound, 
 Nor answering love shall clasp it round ; 
 That palsied tongue no more shall chime 
 Love s welcome home in sweetest rhyme ! 
 
 But listen, my soul ! and hear, 
 Wafted on evening s zephyrs near, 
 The faintest murmurings, soft and sweet, 
 From angels whispering in their sleep ; 
 Proclaiming, in the fragrant bowers, 
 On clustered beds of yielding flowers, 
 Soft words, and low, alone for thce, 
 Love s thrilling dream of prophecy ! 
 
 They have found rest, the good and true, 
 And love s evangel shall renew ; 
 While o er the stormy sea of life, 
 Thy bark sails on amid the strife ; 
 And when the fire-clad clouds are riven, 
 Reveal some glimpses of their heaven ! 
 
 Labor and love, child of earth ! 
 For life s revealing gleams, are worth 
 More than thy toils ; and soon shall rise 
 Thy fadeless mansion in the skies ! 
 And thou, a child to glory born, 
 Shalt enter on life s second morn, 
 More glad than bird at opening day, 
 That bathes him in the sun s first ray ! 
 
184 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 And sweeter shall thy spirit sing, 
 Than warbled notes in early spring ! 
 A happier song shall greet thee there, 
 Than in sweet summer fills the ear, 
 When the rapt lark mounts to the sun, 
 And trills his welcome orison I 
 For though like thine his soul may rise, 
 In the high archway of the skies, 
 Thou art the heir of endless mirth, 
 While he falls backward to the earth ! 
 
 Love cannot die ! though darkness fall 
 
 Around the soul, like Egypt s pall : 
 
 Love cannot die 1 though Winter s blast, 
 
 Its freezing mantle o er it cast : 
 
 Love cannot quench ! though tempests pour 
 
 Their cataracts of water o er : 
 
 Love cannot cease ! though death shall creep 
 
 Into the heart, and still its beat : 
 
 Love shall not lose her natal star, 
 
 Though in the heavens it mounts afar I 
 
 But when the weary race is won, 
 
 Mingle her fires, and shine as one ! 
 
 Love cannot stain her spotless robe 
 
 With retrogression s cumbrous load ; 
 
 And would not call from realms of bliss 
 
 Its souls to dwell in homes like this : 
 
 Dear Love I it cannot dwell alone : 
 
 Though out beyond the farthest zone 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 185 
 
 Its object dwell, there is a way, 
 More lucid than the sun s bright ray, 
 On the electric wave of thought, 
 Where Love s quick messages are brought; 
 And Love her sweetest victory sings 
 While her own messages she brings 1 
 
 Kest, rest at last ! Is this not rest, 
 To sleep upon the loved one s breast ? 
 To feel the breath of fragrant gales 
 Wafting and wooing with a kiss, 
 The weary soul, to realms of bliss ! ? 
 Is this not rest, when quickened sight 
 Beholds the messengers of light ! ? 
 Is this not rest, while over thee 
 Thy angels bend in ecstasy ! ? 
 Is this not rest, to lay thy head 
 Upon Love s couch, soft pillowed ! ? 
 To see the form that long had fled 
 Bend o er thee on the nuptial bed ! ? 
 Is it not rest, to hear them say, 
 " Come, weary one, from earth away ! ? ;; 
 To see them point to landscapes wide, 
 Beyond the dreamy, silent tide, 
 Where far and near thy eyes behold 
 The emerald floor, with flowers of gold ! 
 Where rainbows span the endless round, 
 And bells of silver deck the ground, 
 Inmixed with pearls that grow and chime 
 Nature s soft song of endless rhyme 1 
 
186 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 Where streamlets murmur, all day long 1 , 
 Strains sweeter than Earth s sweetest song ! 
 Where fear no more starts at the sound 
 Of lurking foes, that linger round ; 
 But like the perfume of the rose, 
 Sweet, loving trust forever flows ! 
 Where beauty lives, and grows more fair, 
 For waste and sorrow come not there ; 
 Where changeless love more bright shall shine 
 Than sparkling gems in Nature s mine ; 
 Where Love, in her own flowers, is drest ; 
 This, my soul, this, this is Rest I 
 
 MATER. 
 
 NAME of all Names ! 0, how I love 
 To think thee nigh where er I rove ! 
 To feel thy breath upon my cheek ; 
 To hear thy lingering accents speak ; 
 To know that thou tlost love me yet, 
 Tenderly, as when last we met ; 
 Firmly, as when I took my rest, 
 Securely, on thy loving breast I 
 
 Centre of Home ; Fountain of Life 1 
 Its solace in the ceaseless strife ; 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 1ST 
 
 Its cooling shade from noontide heat ; 
 Its covert, when the tempests beat : 
 Its quiet place of sweet repose ; 
 Its garden, where the love-flower grows : 
 Its echoing thought, when words are dear ; 
 Its angel, when the heavens appear 1 
 
 Often in slumber I do seem 
 To see thee iii the midnight dream ; 
 To hear thy cautious footsteps nigh, 
 As when thou sing st my lullaby : 
 To feel thy tender hand on mine, 
 And hear thee whisper, " I am thine ! " 
 Ah, I am thine, though time hath shed 
 Its sprinkled snow-flakes on my head ! 
 
 Yes, I am thine, though tempest-tost 
 On life s rough waves, yet never lost ; 
 Thine, in temptation s blackest night ; 
 Thine, when false friendship takes its flight ; 
 Thine, when my tears like raindrops flow ; 
 Thine, when all pleasures fail below.: 
 When Fortune s favors cease to shine, 
 My heart still sings, " Thou, thou art mine ! " 
 
 Mysterious bond, that Nature gives ; 
 Affection s tie forever lives ! 
 The eye may fade, the cheek grow pale ; 
 E en Memory s magic page may fail : 
 
188 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 The form may bend beneath its load, 
 And footsteps stumble on the road j 
 The soul may beat its cage of clay, 
 But love shall bear it safe away ! 
 
 Ye sons of sorrow, weep no more ! 
 Behold, on yonder spirit shore 
 The loved ones dwell ! nor think that they 
 Forget, in realms of endless day, 
 Their toiling children left behind ; 
 No ! sweet Affection, ever kind, 
 Descends to earth, unseen by thee, 
 And soothes away thy agony ! 
 
 Dear Mother ! sad misfortunes lower, 
 On every step in life s dark hour ; 
 And mirth is short, and peace takes wing, 
 When War and Passion s cursed din 
 Clashes and foams like lurid flame ! 
 But thou forever art the same : 
 Still doth thy fadeless love increase, 
 And in my soul thou singest " Peace I " 
 
 Words cannot paint, or half express 
 Affection s thoughts, that ever press 
 Upon the soul. Ah, no ! they dwell 
 Forever there, a precious spell ! 
 Like the sweet fragrance of the rose, 
 Which on each gentle zephyr flows, 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 189 
 
 Ever unseen, but ever there, 
 
 A sweet breath on the desert air ! 
 
 A Mother s love ! tis sweet to sing 
 
 Of Nature s budding, opening spring ! 
 
 Tis sweet to sing of summer flowers, 
 
 Of sparkling dew and freshening showers ; 
 
 Of wooing winds and spicy gales, 
 
 That kiss the lover and his sails ; 
 
 Of the sweet nectarine s painted face, 
 
 And all the pleasing landscape trace. 
 
 And when fair Autumn speeds along, 
 With joy we listen to its song 
 Its song of plenty ; golden sheaves, 
 And ripening fruits, and changing leaves J 
 Tis then our grateful raptures swell, 
 And on life s richest bounties dwell : 
 But sweeter, deeper, and above 
 All else, swells up a Mother s love ! 
 
 Farewell, dear Mother ! on thy sod 
 I often kneel, and pray to God ! 
 Ah ! tis so peaceful kneeling there 
 To offer up my evening prayer ! 
 So calm beside thy turf to lie, 
 And feel tis beautiful to die ! 
 So sweet to linger there and rest, 
 And dream of sleeping on thy breast! 
 
190 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 Farewell, farewell ! but not to thee ; 
 Farewell to Sorrow s minstrelsy : 
 Welcome, Faith, and angel sight ! 
 Welcome, Love, forever bright ! 
 Farewell, sad Earth, when she shall say, 
 " Come from thy sorrows, come away ! ;; 
 Welcome, Death, for thou shalt bring 
 Mother and heaven upon thy wing I 
 
 EEMINISCENCE. 
 
 SWEET Ella, dear, my heart is sad, 
 While Memory tells of -thee : 
 
 I m thinking of thy loving smile, 
 So precious still to me. 
 
 The years have passed so lonely by, 
 The seasons come and g-o ; 
 
 The sunlight glistens on the dew, 
 And lightens all below ; 
 
 But this lone heart cannot rejoice 
 
 With Nature all around, 
 And in the sun s all-cheering rays 
 
 No light for me is found. 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 191 
 
 The moonbeams lie upon the lake, 
 
 In silver-spangled gleams ; 
 While all the stars in silence sleep, 
 
 And wander in their dreams. 
 
 I wonder if they dream of thee, 
 
 Within their yielding beds ? 
 If they had known thee when alive, 
 
 They d dream of thee when dead ! 
 
 I dream : and dream that I would dream 
 
 Forever of my love ! 
 I dream that she is looking down 
 
 Upon me from above. 
 
 I dream : but no, I cannot tell 
 
 If it be all a dream ; 
 I dream I see thy lovely form 
 
 In fields of fadeless green ! 
 
 I dream I hear thy gentle voice ; 
 
 r Tis Music s sweetest spell I 
 Bathing my soul in its dear tones, 
 
 That sing, " All, all is well I " 
 
 I dream thy love is ever true, 
 E en though thy footsteps tread 
 
 The flowery paths of Paradise, 
 By angel wardens led ! 
 
192 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 For every flower that greets thy eye 
 Shall bring my love to mind ; 
 
 And soon adown those flowery plains 
 My spirit thou shalt find. 
 
 Thy mortal presence was a dream, 
 So short, so sad, so sweet ! 
 
 But death shall never more divide, 
 When we again shall meet ! 
 
 Alone and sad, this heart of mine 
 Still wanders here below, 
 
 And waits impatient for the hour 
 When it. to thee shall go. 
 
 Who loveth once, forever loves, 
 Nor time, nor space divide : 
 
 And true love cannot rest content 
 Till love sits by her side. 
 
 Forget me not amid your joys ; 
 
 Down mid the fields of space, 
 Is not your land of love and light 
 
 A higher type of this ? 
 
 And what to you and I 
 
 Is life, with all its outside forms ? 
 It is the soul that ever lives, 
 
 And every place adorns. 
 
C 
 
 NIVERSITY 
 
 193 
 
 Love, like a star, all space around 
 
 Enlivens with its rays ; 
 And in life s darkest hour it most 
 
 Delights our anxious gaze ! 
 
 And thus thy love shall ever flow 
 Down through the endless time, 
 
 And bless me with its constant glow, 
 And make thee ever mine ! 
 
 And like Prometheus, I will rise 
 
 Above the tortured hour, 
 And claim thee as love s precious prize 
 
 My fadeless, fragrant flower ! 
 
 SPIRITUAL ANNIVERSARY SONG. 
 
 JOY to the world I Ye angels bring 
 Glad inspirations while we sing ! 
 No hero s praise we here rehearse ; 
 No warrior s name adorns our verse ; 
 No fulsome peans swell the lay, 
 That ushers in this sacred day. 
 No massive palace doors unfold, 
 To fill our eyes with gems and gold ; 
 No jewelled crown or glittering spear 
 Bringeth our willing footsteps here. 
 13 
 
194 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 Not Fashion s sons or daughters stand 
 
 Around the bard, on either hand. 
 
 No hierarchs, of ancient date, 
 
 With sanctimonious pride of state, 
 
 Lead in our songs, or chant aloud 
 
 Their unknown jargon to the crowd. 
 
 No bigots bend in holy fear, 
 
 With prostrate form, and senseless tear : 
 
 No hypocritic Pharisee 
 
 Says, " I am holier far than thee ! " 
 
 " Poor, erring man I " No ; here we meet, 
 
 All children, at the Father s feet. 
 
 Here our glad hearts forever burn 
 
 With strong desire, to love and learn 1 
 
 0, Fountain on yon spirit shore, 
 
 Sparkling and flowing evermore I 
 
 Sweet Fountain, falling from above, 
 
 Filling our hearts with endless love ! 
 
 0, ample Eiver of our God ! 
 
 Adown your banks our feet have trod 
 
 With loved ones, who have passed away, 
 
 And dwell in cloudless realms of day : 
 
 And often from the other shore, 
 
 Their cheerful voices call us o er ; 
 
 They often leave the mansions fair, 
 
 And to our sorrowing hearts repair, 
 
 To bring us hope, to lead us on, 
 
 Through the rough paths that they have gone. 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 195 
 
 To give us patience on our way, 
 Arid point us to a brighter day ! 
 To shed a sacred influence round, 
 Where waiting, loving hearts are found. 
 0, come ye blessed I come to-day, 
 And call oar silent thoughts away, 
 Away from sorrow, and from sin ; 
 Come to our hearts and enter in ; 
 Bring wisdom from your happy sphere, 
 To guide .us while we linger here ; 
 So that each passing, earthly day, 
 Shall scatter jewels on its way : 
 So that some sorrowing hearts that mourn 
 In life s rough road, to us may turn, 
 And see the sympathizing tear, 
 And words of comfort ever hear : 
 May feel the open, generous hand, 
 That aids their faltering feet to stand. 
 
 Open your doors, ye angels bright, 
 And pour on us a flood of light ! 
 Show your dear faces, press our hands j 
 Smile on us in our circled bands ; 
 Sing your sweet songs, for when ye come, 
 Ye bring us heaven, ye bring us home ! 
 0, send us from your realms above 
 A mother s presence, and her love ; 
 A father s wisdom, brave and strong, 
 To choose the right and flee the wrong ; 
 
196 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 And may the fount of wisdom glow 
 In all our hearts, that we may know 
 Fair truth from error, and arise, 
 With Virtue, to her native skies ! 
 
 Hail, brothers, hail ! we only wait 
 The swinging of the crystal gate ! 
 Fight bravely, fight for truth and right, 
 And Victory s crown shall greet your sight ! 
 Fair sisters, welcome with your love ! 
 Its full fruition is above ; 
 There ye shall bathe in its bright beams, 
 And drink its overflowing streams ! 
 
 x 
 
 No sombre rites their sadness shed ; 
 
 They come not here, we have no dead. 
 
 And Science sings her cheerful lays 
 
 To Immortality s high praise ! 
 
 The world is ours, for round its zone 
 
 Departed spirits find a home : 
 
 This world is ours, for unseen powers 
 
 Keep vigils through the endless hours : 
 
 They watch and wait ; they lift the veil, 
 
 And sigh and sing in every gale. 
 
 They speak in flowers and verdant sod, 
 
 And point men upward to their God ! 
 
 They fill the seer s enraptured sight, 
 
 And bathe the mourner s soul in light ! 
 
 They show their faces, as of yore, 
 
 And " Auld Lang Syne " they sing us o er ; 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 19Y 
 
 They bring the ancient artists nigh, 
 And quick as shadows passing by, 
 Present to our astonished gaze 
 The forms we loved in other days ! 
 They ope the ears of mortal men, 
 And give their fond words back again ; 
 And through our tears they make us sing, 
 " Fair angel Death, thou hast no sting ! " 
 
 Roll on, ye planets ! grandly roll, 
 
 children, of the central soul ! 
 
 Burn on, ye suns ! reflect His light, 
 
 And sing forever of His might ! 
 
 Float on, Ether ! bathe them round 
 
 On your soft bosom ; take the sound 
 
 From star to star, from sun to sun ; 
 
 And bid the angel heralds run 
 
 Down through the endless fields of space, 
 
 To mortal men of every race, 
 
 To sing the welcome song of peace 
 
 And harmony, till discord cease. 
 
 To raise the grovelling sons of earth 
 
 To joy that springs from second birth ; 
 
 To fill their souls with holy love, 
 
 Like Nature and the hosts above ! 
 
 To make us more than heroes here, 
 
 And bring our loving angels near. 
 
 0, mother Nature ! oft as I gaze 
 
 Out on thy works, my soul with praise 
 
198 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 And adoration calmly sing s, 
 And to her heart Love s spirit brings, 
 Till lost in her great sea of bliss, 
 She leaps for joy, and shouts, this, 
 Ay, this is life ! and soars above 
 The toils of earth, to realms of love ! 
 
 Bring songs of joy, and fragrant flowers ; 
 This day, mortals, this is ours ! 
 Glad angels, in celestial bowers, 
 Echo the song, " Tis ours ! tis ours ! 
 Arid soon the chorus shall resound, 
 Wherever loving hearts are found, 
 From earthly homes and spirit towers, 
 " This bridal day is ours, ; tis ours 1 " 
 
 CHRISTMAS. 
 
 HAIL, Holy Child ! sweet tenant of the manger ! 
 Long centuries rolling on, welcome the stranger 
 In each Christmas gift, each loving, kindred thought 
 That swells the breast of childhood. 0, happy lot, 
 To be a favored child ! The young heart boundeth 
 Like the fleecy innocent, that roundeth 
 The verdant hill-sides, singing its baby note 
 To her who calleth in the grassy slope. 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 199 
 
 Ah, children, He of Galilee was poor ; 
 The costly palace opened not its door 
 To Joseph s Child, when Mary, sad and lonely, 
 Presented to the earth the best, the only 
 Gift that shall endure an everlasting joy ; 
 And angels sang sweet peans to her Boy 1 
 Sing, little children, sing your Christmas song ! 
 Lift up the poor ; bid them your strains prolong I 
 
 A brighter day is coming on the earth : 
 Though slow its footsteps, yet the happy birth 
 Of Him who blessed the children, and whose arms 
 Embraced them, with his pure and holy charms, 
 Shall fill the souls of men with sweet fraternal love ; 
 And the world s people, like the hosts above, 
 Shall drink the living waters, flowing down 
 From the supernal throne, and wear the fadeless 
 crown ! 
 
 Haste, happy day ! fling odors on the blast 
 That moaneth to the coming time the past ; 
 The terrible past, red with the bloody gore 
 That flowed from noblest hearts ! and to the poor 
 Give joy and gladness ; to the pure in heart 
 Give peace ; give visions full of glory ; part 
 The dense curtain that divides the distant scene, 
 And bless Earth s millions with the prophet s dream I 
 
200 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 MY FLOWER GARDEN. 
 
 MY Garden is sweet ; in the valley it lies, 
 
 Where the frog, and the whippoorwill sings ; 
 
 ; Mong its flowers and its shrubs the humming-bird 
 
 flies, 
 Sipping nectar, and sunning his wings 1 
 
 The Rose blushes there with its petals so sweet, 
 ; Neath the gaze of the warm wooing sun ; 
 
 It hides neath the green leaves, but often doth peep 
 Up to heaven, while he journeys along ! 
 
 The Violet drinks in the dew and the breeze, 
 
 And hangeth her meek little head ; 
 Not daring to gaze on the tall spreading trees, 
 
 But reclines in her beautiful bed I 
 
 The Dahlia is there, in her various hues, 
 
 Like a queen in the garden, I ween ; 
 Her colors more bright than the full fragrant rose j 
 
 On the surface her beauty is seen. 
 
 The pure, milk-white Lily breathes sweet on the air, 
 
 Like a bride in her chamber of love ! 
 Like sweet silver bells, swing her petals so fair, 
 
 Keeping time to the songs in the grove I 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 201 
 
 The Woodbine looks up to the shrub that is nigh, 
 Reaching out for his wide-spreading arms ; 
 
 0, she seeketh a place for her blossoms to lie, 
 Like sweet babes, in their beautiful charms 1 
 
 The Primrose peeps out, like a star in the sky, 
 From the soft mossy bank near the rill ; 
 
 And the honey-bee kisses her mild yellow eye, 
 While of sweetness he drinketh his fill I 
 
 0, countless and fair are the flowers that I love, 
 And sparkling their dew-drops are seen ! 
 
 Come, roam with me there, for wherever we rove, 
 Nature smiles in her garments of green ! 
 
 EVENING. 
 
 CALM Evening I who but loveth thee ? 
 ; Tis in thy tranquil hours we see 
 The distant lights ; Infinity 
 Spreads out her far-extending plains, 
 Traversed by angels, whose sweet strains, 
 Far as the mighty Maker reigns 
 
 Float on forever ! and each bird 
 That singeth gladly, sure hath heard 
 Some distant sonnet, that hath stirred 
 
202 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 His quivering accents, and his song 
 Doth but some spirit-strain prolong 
 To mortal ears, by mortal tongue ! 
 
 Thy ebon curtain hideth not 
 The heavenly vision ; for each spot 
 Reveals the unfathomed, mighty plot 
 Of Nature s labyrinth to each eye, 
 That contemplates the illumined sky, 
 Where Wisdom s shining wonders lie. 
 
 Fair Evening ! mortal eye hath seen 
 No regal monarch like thy queen ! 
 No crown like hers has ever been 
 Placed on Earth s princes, for each gem 
 That fills the monarch s diadem 
 Is sparkling dust beneath her train I 
 
 Well may the ardent lover gaze 
 
 On her whose light around him plays, 
 
 Revealing thd,t beloved face 
 
 In bashful beauty, that hath spread 
 
 Youth s blessed dreams around his bed, 
 
 And Virtue s purest influence shed 1 
 
 Dream on in her soft, holy light ! 
 
 Too soon those moments take their flight ; 
 
 Too soon shall come that sombre night, 
 
 Whose shadows hasten from afar 
 
 To hide from view thy spirit-star, 
 
 Down where the dust and ashes are I 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 203 
 
 And then, Evening I then shall he 
 That star in all its beauty see ! 
 But, 0, too high its light shall be ! 
 Too far from him, who oft did kiss, 
 With thrilling ecstasy of bliss I 
 Ah 1 it was all for death and this ! 
 
 Father ! mid the evening prayer, 
 Breathe softly, in the evening air, 
 " Peace, spirit ! she is living there I 
 0, dry the tear : the soul hath fled, 
 Far from the dwellings of the dead, 
 Up where celestial visions spread ! " 
 
 The blazing orb of day may rise 
 
 "With mighty grandeur in the skies ; 
 
 But in the evening sacrifice 
 
 The listening fond one hears the sound 
 
 Of loving footsteps lingering round, 
 
 Where Friendship s constant feet are found. 
 
 Let madness tempt the midnight hour, 
 
 Where pomp and pride destroy the flower 
 
 Of youth, gaining the deadly dower 
 
 Of Dissipation ; but the wise, 
 
 By observation, sweetly rise 
 
 To those grand heights where folly dies! 
 
 Where God is seen, supreme, alone I 
 Where scintillations from His throne 
 Lie sparkling on each planet s zone ! 
 
204 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 There songs of joy are ever heard, 
 Chanting the praises of that Word, 
 Forever blessed and adored ! 
 
 TRUST. 
 
 SWEET Trust ! 0, couldst thou ever live 
 
 Within the human soul ! The child 
 Alone hath that prerogative 
 
 Its angel-heart with thee is filled 1 
 Sleep on, 0, sleep ! Thou dost not know 
 
 The future vision ! It will come 
 Full soon, for time shall quickly flow : 
 
 0, rest thee in thy tender home ! 
 
 How soon the spell is broken ! look 
 
 Not in human eyes ! ah, look not ! 
 For they are not the spirit s book 
 
 Where thou canst read thy changing lot ; 
 Trust not those crystal, lucid balls, 
 
 Their light doth swiftly pass away, 
 Swift as the lovely curtain falls, 
 
 That shutteth out the light of day. 
 
 Ah, cruel fate ! he that doth live 
 On human passions hath no rest ; 
 
 They promise, but they do not give 
 The answer to thy aching breast ; 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 205 
 
 The jewelled casket fills thine eye 
 
 With its bright colors, how bright ! 
 
 Uncovered all thy hopes shall die ; 
 For ashes greet thy anxious sight ! 
 
 Thou canst not find beneath the sun, 
 
 man ! a changeless home of love ; 
 Earth s choicest spirits live alone ; 
 
 They fix their constant trust above ; 
 They know the blessdd Source, and they 
 
 Play not with baubles here below, 
 But catch the beams that round them play, 
 
 From the blest world to which they go ! 
 
 Trust not the passing multitude ; 
 
 They clamor when thy words are sweet ; 
 Behold, along thy path are strewed 
 
 The stones that did the martyrs greet ; 
 Their whited sepulchres appear 
 
 To lure thee on to high renown ; 
 They ate the bread of sorrow here, 
 
 And dropped the sword, to grasp the crown ! 
 
 Earth is the fiery crucible 
 
 That purifies the good man s heart ; 
 He that the flowers of heaven would cull, 
 
 Must feel Earth s cruel, poisoned dart I 
 Be tranquil, spirit ; thou shalt be 
 
 The victor when the dart is drawn 
 From thy sad heart ; and thine shall be 
 
 The rest, where bravest souls have gone. 
 
206 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 Work on ! it is the noblest boon 
 
 Bestowed on mortals ! work and strive ; 
 Doubt not thy strength ; for thou shalt soon 
 
 Rest from thy labor, and arrive 
 Where work and rest alike shall be 
 
 Thy pleasure ; and His holy will 
 Shall be the food that feedeth thee ! 
 
 Trust Him, spirit ! Peace, be still 1 
 
 GOING HOME. 
 
 LONG years and slow ; long dream of years ! 
 
 The faded cheek, the wasted form ; 
 The fountain closed, whence flowed the tears, 
 
 So copiously, in life s young morn : 
 Alone, alone, I m going home ! 
 
 I m going home ; but who can tell 
 How many feet shall meet me there ? 
 
 For, 0, how long the last farewell ! 
 
 How long since then the exile s prayer ! 
 Alone, alone, I m going home ! 
 
 My father s voice, my mother s love, 
 Are hushed and gone ; forever fled 
 
 My sister s smile ; all dwell above 
 Their gentle forms are with the dead ! 
 Alone, alone, I m going home I 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 20T 
 
 The strangers loved the exiled boy, 
 Admired his song, and joined the lay, 
 
 Partook his swelling, gushing joy 1 
 
 His tears they saw not ; it was day : 
 Alone, alone, I m going home ! 
 
 Fve dwelt among them, and have given 
 My strength of life, my constant toil ; 
 
 Have gloried in their growth, and striven 
 For peace amid life s long turmoil. 
 
 And now, alone, I m going homo ! 
 
 I ve roved amid their copses green ; 
 
 Drank of their trickling mountain springs ; 
 Their many-colored flowers I ve seen, 
 
 And quaffed the joy that Nature brings ! 
 But now, alone, I m going home I 
 
 Farewell, fair land ! I cannot tell 
 
 If ever on thy sod shall press 
 His feet again who sings farewell 1 
 
 But know, my tongue thy name will bless, 
 When all alone I reach my home ! 
 
 Thou art the urn, whose breast contains 
 The dust of those who gave me birth ; 
 
 0, guard those precious, fond remains, 
 For they have made thee holy earth I 
 And I, alone, am going home ! 
 
208 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 Dear native land ! a turf I bring 
 
 From each sad mound that marks their rest ; 
 And in thy bounteous, lengthened spring, 
 
 Will place them on thy verdant breast ! 
 Sad and alone, I m coming home I 
 
 Thy dews shall make them grow and spread ; 
 
 Thy violets shall nestle there ; 
 And I will watch thy grassy bed, 
 
 And press my knee in silemt prayer, 
 When I, alone, am safely home 1 
 
 HANNIBAL. 
 
 WELL named, if named to honor him 
 
 Who menaced the world s masters ! I win 
 
 No guerdon, if I place thee not 
 
 Beside his name a worthy spot ! 
 
 Thy strong, eternal hills shall stand 
 
 In beauty, firm and sure, and grand 
 
 (To grace the name that honors thee), 
 
 Fit dwellings for the good and free ! 
 
 Ye dwellers on the Rhine and Maine ; 
 Ye chamois-hunters, from the chain 
 Of everlasting Alpine heights, 
 Whose glaciers mock the starry lights, 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 209 
 
 Hie hither to our fruitful slopes, 
 To drown your sorrows in the hopes 
 That spring and blossom in the soul, 
 Where Freedom crowns the happy goal ! 
 
 Grand Mississippi ! on thy banks 
 The Muse, prophetic, views the ranks 
 Of mingling millions, from all climes, 
 Producing wealth from fields and mines 1 
 Sees brighter records for the page, 
 That paints the coming golden age ! 
 Sees Commerce in her countless sails, 
 Laden with wealth, and spicy gales ! 
 
 0, let the Tree of Knowledge rise, 
 And spread its branches neath the skies ! 
 Crowning each summit, till the fruit 
 Droppeth its seeds, and taketh root 
 In human hearts, and planteth there 
 Improvement s gems, lovely and fair, 
 Glistening like dew-drops on the sod, 
 Lifting the soul up, up to God ! 
 
 Then shall the courts of God be seen 
 Full of true worshippers, whose mien 
 Reflecteth back the Father s love ! 
 And joyous songs shall float above 
 Above the earth, where toil and care 
 Burden with sighs the good man s prayer ; 
 14 
 
 tJJSriVERSITY 
 
210 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 Above the appetites, which fill 
 The erring, sorrowing human will ; 
 Above the miser s cursed lust, 
 That grovels in the shining dust : 
 Then Passion s dross shall pass away, 
 And earth behold a brighter day ! 
 
 Thou sacred place, where loved ones sleep, 
 Where fond ones oft repair to weep ! 
 (Beyond the fearful "Lover s Leap ") 
 Thou earthly link, that binds the race 
 To spirits in that better place ; 
 How green and peaceful dost thou lie, 
 Making us almost wish to die ! 
 To die ? to live ! Where partings cease, 
 Where all the loved ones dwell in peace I 
 
 Beautiful Hannibal ! our boast 
 Shall be of thee, on distant coast ; 
 And on the Seven-hilled City s dome, 
 We ll bless thee with the name of Home 1 
 And thy round summits shall outvie 
 The loveliest smiling slopes that lie 
 Beneath Italia s classic clime ; 
 And there my song shall call thee mine I 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 211 
 
 HELL. 
 
 SOME people doubt it : very well, 
 But I believe there is a hell. 
 I strolled around the other night, 
 And saw men full of rum and fight ; 
 I visited a dainty dame, 
 You d like, perhaps, to know her name ; 
 I ll tell you it was " Mistress Quiz : " 
 And when her tongue began to whiz, 
 It seemed to me like a hot flame, 
 By passion fed ; blasting a name 
 I d known for years as good and true 1 
 I think, kind reader, now don t you ? 
 That these bad men, and Mistress Quiz, 
 Dwell very near where Satan is 1 
 
 When very young I boarded round ; 
 In one home happiness I found ; 
 But out of four-and-twenty more, 
 It seemed as though the head was sore, 
 Or the heart sick ; for, night and day, 
 Time passed with scarce a loving ray : 
 And when the hour of setting sun 
 Found all at home, and work all done, 
 It was like brawling pot-house, when 
 Frequent potations heat the brain ; 
 For she who d promised to obey 
 Her chosen love, drove him away ; 
 
212 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 Or, if he staid, his manhood gone ; 
 
 Or worse than this, proud and alone ! 
 
 Sometimes I saw a noble wife, 
 Living a loving, generous life ; 
 Dispensing comfort all around 
 To others ; but, alas ! she found 
 No compensation for her love, 
 Save what was sent her from above : 
 He who had whispered in her ear 
 Promise of future love and cheer, 
 Gave bitter answers to her prayer; 
 Sought strangers, while he left her there, 
 A withered flower ; nor sun, nor dew 
 Cheered the pure heart, so kind and true I 
 
 Oft Nature s child was linked with one 
 
 Who set the iron heart upon 
 
 Earth s baubles, or its yellow dust, 
 
 Lived like a brute, and burned with lust 1 
 
 Living to leave a race behind 
 
 A living curse to human kind, 
 
 And to themselves sorrow and woe I 
 
 Go to the tub, and spittal go, 
 
 Ye poor unfortunates ! for who 
 
 Care for such helpless dregs as you ? 
 
 We keep the cholera far away ; 
 
 For rhinderpest we freely slay 
 
 Our hecatombs : but lust must lie 
 
 An incubus, if millions die ! 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 213 
 
 Law places where he cannot steal, 
 
 The thief, for the great common weal ; 
 
 But he who sends a liquid fire, 
 
 Transmitted from a brutish sire 
 
 To crimeless children, down and down 
 
 Succeeding years, law doth not frown 
 
 On such ! 0, why doth Justice wink 
 
 On crimes like this ! ? I really think 
 
 That wealth and honor (?) are the cause 
 
 We have not better human laws ; 
 
 For do not kings and princes stain 
 
 Earth s annals with lascivious shame ? 
 
 And is not wealth the fruitful nest 
 
 Of sin, corruption, and unrest ? 
 
 Tis not the brightest side, I know, 
 
 Of human life ; but let that go 
 
 At present (I often love to tell 
 
 Of that), have I not proved a Hell ? 
 
 PATRIA. 
 
 IN the sad, sorrowing, lengthened years, 
 When Time hath dried the childish tears, 
 And Manhood looketh fondly o er 
 The golden times, which come no more ; 
 There s many a tender, holy thought, 
 Which time and sorrow taketh not 
 
214 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 Out from the wanderer s inmost heart, 
 That lingers until life depart ! 
 
 We bustle in the busy crowd, 
 Join in its pleasures, light and loud ; 
 Partake its projects, gain applause ; 
 Drink in its spirit, and its cause ; 
 Speak noble words for common weal ; 
 Think deep and long, and freely feel 
 For others, till all hearts grow warm 
 With generous thoughts or bitter scorn. 
 
 We wander many a weary mile ; 
 Gain knowledge, and the hours beguile 
 With scenes of nature and of art, 
 Entering, but filling not the heart ; 
 Admire the works of mighty mind, 
 Left on the annals of mankind ; 
 Eagerly trace creation o er ; 
 But childhood cometh back no more ! 
 
 Sometimes an aged form I see, 
 
 That bringeth dimly unto me 
 
 The tender, doting, loving eye : 
 
 And quickly, through the year gone by, 
 
 My fancy painteth every scene 
 
 Where childhood roved, mid pastures green j 
 
 Guided, instructed in the lore 
 
 That covers Nature s pages o er. 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 215 
 
 Guided so tenderly, so calm, 
 
 Mid air that breathed a fragrant balm : 
 
 Mid wild flowers, and the clinging vine ; 
 
 The modest jasmine, the woodbine ; 
 
 The scented clover, the blue-bell ; 
 
 The starry cowslip in the dell ; 
 
 The crocus and the violet ; 
 
 The snowdrop in my memory yet ; 
 
 The gentlest, fairest, purest flower 
 That ever bloomed in Dian s bower, 
 Or decked the garland on the brow 
 Of her who made the virgin s vow : 
 Fair emblem of the angel love 
 Of those who wait for me above, 
 To strike with them the golden wire ! 
 .To embrace a noble, sainted sire ! 
 
 Sing, loving Muse, sing of his worth ! 
 Nature s fond child, a noble birth 
 Of goodness, seemed to ever grow 
 With age ; the flowing locks like snow, 
 Looked beautiful ; and when he could, 
 Benevolence, like daily food, 
 Dispensed he to his fellow-man ; 
 Then resting, like an angel sang ! 
 
 Sang like an angel ! 0, how sweet 
 The song when child and parent meet ! 
 
216 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 When hearts together, flowing on 
 In joyful strains, bid care be gone ; 
 Inspiring Music ! ne er shall I 
 Lose thy fond spell ; sweet Harmony 
 Forever dwell in this sad heart, 
 And solace me till life depart ! 
 
 Calm Sabbath mornings! oft I dwell 
 On thy past scenes I loved so well ; 
 Thy stillness, broken by the spell 
 Of singing birds and matin bell, 
 Seemed like enchanting music sent 
 From heaven to our own firmament ! 
 Thy child, my Father, still doth love 
 Those sounds that lift the heart above 
 
 Above the sensual appetites ; 
 Above the ceremonial rites ; 
 Above the bigot and his prayer ; 
 Above the consecrated chair ; 
 Above proud Fashion s menial slave j 
 Above the cant, that cannot save ; 
 Soon, kindest Father, I shall come 
 To Thee, above the starry dome ! 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 217 
 
 IN MEMORIAH. 
 
 THREE years to-day, three lonely years ! 
 0, vacant hours ! 0, burning tears ! 
 0, homeless heart, and restless head ! 
 Since thou wast numbered with the dead ! 
 
 Spring s first wild rose thy pillow prest ; 
 The last lay on thy lifeless breast ! 
 Twas hard to die, for love had grown 
 For one whose heart was all thine own ! 
 
 Thy life was gentle ; like thy voice, 
 It made Earth s weary ones rejoice ; 
 Twas like the mountain streams, that flow 
 In music to the plains below ! 
 
 Twas like the sweetest bird of song, 
 That warbles joyous all night long, 
 And charms the darkest hours away, 
 Until appears the morning ray. 
 
 How tender, when the storm was high, 
 Those loving orbs would linger nigh ! 
 How soft those fairy footsteps fell 
 Upon the fragrant flowery dell ! 
 
 And while I gazed, to me was given 
 Prophetic dreams of home in heaven ! 
 But now, I wonder, canst thou see 
 The flowers I plant, and pluck for theo ? I 
 
218 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 Yes, thou art near me ! and I sit 
 Where often tread thy angel feet ; 
 And though I miss those earthly eyes, 
 Thou smiPst on me from Paradise ! 
 
 This " muddy vesture " wrapped around 
 My spirit, shutteth out the sound 
 Of that sweet voice, or I could hear 
 Its cheerful accents, soft and clear I 
 
 Come often, darling ! for I need 
 Thy presence ; I, a bruised. reed, 
 Bending before the storm, can see 
 No staff to aid but God and thee. 
 
 Come often ; let thy presence fill 
 My spirit, till a joyous thrill 
 Pervades my being, and I feel 
 A silent gladness o er me steal ! 
 
 Could I but see thy spirit form, 
 Then might the wildest thunder-storm 
 Of earth beat on me ; and meanwhile 
 I d meet it with a fearless smile ! 
 
 Could thy dear voice, like gentle dew, 
 Fall on my ear, my memory true 
 To the bright past should leap for joy, 
 And all the present ills destroy ! 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 219 
 
 But life is short in mortal form, 
 And night fades at approaching morn ; 
 And soon the spirit that has fled, 
 Shall with the waiting wanderer wed I 
 
 I thank thee, loved one, that thy feet 
 Oft visit, when I sadly weep ; 
 And that thy careful touch doth thrill 
 My soul, and I am calm and still ! 
 
 Love need not write thy precious name, 
 Nor speak it till we meet again ; 
 ; Tis writ in flowers that bloom above, 
 In the dear garden of our love 1 
 
 DEATH. 
 
 " Tarry, sweet cousin Suffolk, till my soul shall fly with 
 thine to heaven ! " SHAKESPEARE. 
 
 THERE S a mystic river ; tis dark and deep ; 
 The boatman s oar hath a leaden sweep ; 
 There s a viewless dread when its waves are felt ; 
 There are shifting sands where the loved have knelt. 
 
 There are locks of hair adown its shore, 
 And broken rings on the sandy floor ; 
 
220 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 There are mournful sounds in the fitful breeze, 
 That sweep through the limbs of the leafless trees. 
 
 There are faded flowers, with their fragrance fled ; 
 There s a sombre pall o er their petals of red ; 
 There s a burning thought on a tablet of white, . 
 And a dove with its plumage of azure and white. 
 
 There s a tiny shoe neath a trundle-bed, 
 
 And the echoes sound where my footsteps tread ; 
 
 There s a little silent face on the wall, 
 
 That smiles no more at the loving call. 
 
 There s a flitting shadow, that whispers low, 
 Of the silent smile, neath the locks of snow ; 
 There s a distant sound in the dreamy air, 
 Like a shout ; but it dies in a mournful prayer. 
 
 There s a broken heart, and a listless eye ; 
 The senseless laugh, and the frantic cry : 
 There s a doleful song, and an aimless way ; 
 There s a restless night, and a lifeless day. 
 
 There s a listening ear where the moonbeams fall, 
 And a vacant place by the garden wall ; 
 There s a shady bower, with a lonely seat ; 
 There s a quivering lip, there are lingering feet. 
 
 There s a manly form, in its strength and pride, 
 Just taking the boat for the other side ; 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 221 
 
 There s a maiden fair, with an eye like heaven, 
 Still straining- to see the cloud-mist riven ! 
 
 There s a star through the mist, which the ages 
 
 bring nigh, 
 
 And the boatman sings, and the shadows fly ; 
 There s a vision of love, and a voice through the 
 
 gloom, 
 And a spirit that smiles on the flowers of the tomb. 
 
 There s a visiting band from the realms of the blest; 
 There s a lullaby song from the mansions of rest ; 
 There s a certainty sings where but doubts moaned 
 
 before, 
 And they welcome us home to the bright summer 
 
 shore ! 
 
 WITHERED LEAVES. 
 
 OUT upon the woodlands, Whirling in the breeze ; 
 Dancing on the brook sands, Flying from the trees. 
 
 Playing with the wild flowers, Kissing them in glee, 
 Whispering of the past hours, Spent with busy 
 bee 
 
 Giving up the honey, When the sun was high ; 
 Looking up so funny, At the bright blue sky. 
 
222 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 How it shook all over. Many a windy day, 
 Looking at the clover, Blossoming so gay 
 
 Clustering all together, Beautiful and bright, 
 Shining like a feather, In its sunny flight 
 
 Feather of the wild bird, Gladly soaring on ; 
 Beauty which the wind stirred, Gushing forth in 
 song! 
 
 Floating on the river, Skimming on its breast ; 
 How the leaf doth shiver, Ere it goes to rest ! 
 
 Beautiful as ever, In the sunset sheen, 
 Though the frosts have made her, Doff the youth 
 ful green. 
 
 Ere to sleep she goeth, Lovingly she sighs 
 
 He who made us knoweth, Where the dead leaf lies. 
 
 He who loves his creatures, Takes them to his 
 
 breast, 
 And the leaves are preachers, When they go to rest. 
 
 He knows when the fond hearts, Sadly go away ; 
 Knoweth when the tear starts, Knoweth what we 
 say: 
 
 He knows how we whisper, Loving words and true ; 
 Knoweth how we kissed her, When we bade adieu ! 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 223 
 
 Knoweth where we laid her, In the budding spring, 
 In the hand that made her, Where the wild birds 
 
 Sing to her so gladly, Seeming thus to say, 
 
 " Friends have left thee sadly, Sadly gone away 
 
 " Knowing not thy spirit, Singeth up on high, 
 (Loving faith can hear it), Sweeter far than I." 
 
 Spirit, sing forever, In the happy groves ! 
 Angel forms shall never, Leave thy last repose ! 
 
 THE SABBATH. 
 
 THOU azure arch, thou limitless expanse I 
 Bow without end, uncircumscribed and vast ! 
 Infolding in thy wondrous round all worlds ; 
 Upholding all within their spheres as firm 
 As adamantine columns, yet so soft 
 Their yielding beds, that the sweet infant smiles 
 When the lithe curtain plays upon its face, 
 And kissing gently, leaves no other trace ! 
 
 Thou unseen God ! beyond, above, below ; 
 Beyond all worlds, above this spacious bow ; 
 Below the deep foundations, yet so nigh, 
 That all things, seen and unseen, feel the eye 
 
224 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 Of supreme power, of boundless, peerless love ; 
 Smiling all day upon the sun s quick beams ; 
 And when the moon and stars look from above, 
 Opening to man the spirit s distant dreams ! 
 
 holy Sabbath ! when the orient brings 
 
 Ithuriel s flashing spear and golden wings, 
 
 To kiss the pearly dew, and bid it rise, 
 
 Like a sweet incense, to the bending skies ! 
 
 0, then could man s exalted spirit fly 
 
 On the same fragrant cloud that passeth by, 
 
 With willing wings, to meet the Father God 
 
 What golden streams of light should gild the road ! 
 
 Without thy rest, Sabbath ! it were vain 
 
 To bid Improvement lead its smiling train 1 
 
 For what are wealth and science, when the mind, 
 
 To drudging labor, is for aye confined ? 
 
 But in this rest man feels he is above 
 
 All that he sees, and feels the fount of love 
 
 Flowing in copious streams into his heart, 
 
 Infusing springs that never shall depart ! 
 
 Then every flower delights his gazing eye, 
 
 And every distant planet cometh nigh ; 
 
 And both alike sing to his raptured soul, 
 
 Sounds sweet as angel harps in that blest goal 
 
 Of endless Sabbath, where they ever sing 
 
 The joyous notes with the young cherubim ! 
 
 Sing to His praise who saw His works were good, 
 
 Who spake the word, and all creation stood ! 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 225 
 
 &*l 
 
 ^UNIVERSITY 
 MY 
 
 SLEEP, sister 1 It is past ; the agony 
 Is over, and we will not weep for thee. 
 Thy life was lovely, and so sweet thy words 
 To thy young brother s ear, the little birds 
 Listened to hear thee sing thy songs of praise, 
 Amid the early, happy, girlish days, 
 That gave thee to my life a constant star, 
 Pointing my thoughts where kindred angels are. 
 
 We wandered down the hill-sides, and the flowers 
 Were redolent of thee, their life was ours ; 
 They drank the same clear dew, and the same air 
 That wooed their petals, made thy cheek as fair 
 As their sweet blossoms ; the white lily stood, 
 In all her purity, near the dense wood, 
 And in the evening Zephyr bowed her head, 
 Inviting thee to her soft, lowly bed ! 
 
 And the deep, bell-shaped flower of modest blue, 
 Told thee of friendships, tender, firm, and true ; 
 And thy young, guileless heart did well respond 
 To truth and friendship, for thy soul was fond 
 As the maternal love to her first-born ; 
 As tender as the smile upon that form 
 Of budding life ; like the pure bliss of heaven, 
 To earth s unsullied, blessed spirits given 1 
 15 
 
226 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 We knew not sorrow then, nor the pale blight 
 
 Brought by the years, in their swift, cruel flight ; 
 
 We had not dreamed of the corroding care 
 
 That fills maturer life ; its burdens bear 
 
 Too heavily in the fast coming years, 
 
 When the worn heart is no more eased with 
 
 tears ; 
 
 Too heavily to let the joy remain, 
 That youth hath woven in its golden chain ! 
 
 No more together shall we view the beams, 
 That flow in glory in the solar streams, 
 That flood the eastern hills ; nor in them view 
 The subtle threads that in our spirits grew 
 A woof of beauty, whose soft colors blend 
 In every phase of life, until the end : 
 But when the whispering spirits call me home, 
 Thy voice shall sweetly join to bid me come ! 
 
 The valleys are as green, and the clear spring 
 To its cool fountain doth the lapwing bring ; 
 And the gay robin singeth round the door, 
 But thou, my sister, cometh back no more : 
 And every charrn of earth, and every joy, 
 And every hour that doth my life employ, 
 Hath lost its fullness, for my star is fled : 
 Thou, thou, my sister, dwellest with the dead ! 
 
 And yet not dead ! for thou dost oft return, 
 When evening s lamp doth camly, brightly burn ; 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 22f 
 
 And when the bird of night doth sing of love, 
 
 Thy spirit whispers to me from above ! 
 
 Amid the echoing rocks I faintly hear, 
 
 " Cheer up ! cheer up ! " lie music from the 
 
 sphere 
 
 Wherein thou dwellest ; and my soul is filled 
 With rapture, and my aching heart is stilled. 
 
 Calm evening ! unto thee alone is given 
 The brightest visions to the soul of heaven ! 
 In thee the fond ones that have passed away, 
 Over the silent spirit hold their sway ; 
 And unto faith the heavenward breeze they bring, 
 That lendeth to its swift and upward wing 
 The mighty speed that eagles have not known ; 
 And I am with thee, sister, round the throne 1 
 
 Around the throne of love, where blossoms 
 
 grow 
 
 In beauty, fading not, like these below ; 
 Where all the good, in every age and clime, 
 Drink purer pleasures, sinless and divine ! 
 0, why do mortals cling to things below, 
 Which pass so quickly ? Why not wish to go 
 To better scenes, where parted spirits meet 
 With those they love, and join in chorus sweet ? 
 
228 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 THE MANIAC. 
 
 I SAW one, sad, and lone, and wild ; 
 A wasted one, Misfortune s child. 
 The passers-by looked lightly on, 
 Because they saw the light was gone 
 The light of other days and years ; 
 Laughter and joy replaced with tears ; 
 With tears of sorrow often shed, 
 Yet easing not the weary head. 
 
 Behold him gazing on the sky, 
 On distant visions passing by, 
 Forever passing, never found. 
 Faint music, of ^Eolian sound, 
 Approaches softly ; then away, 
 More- distant ; as the moonbeams play 
 Mid forest shadows, luring on 
 The traveller, till his hopes are gone. 
 
 I saw one murmuring ; but for what, 
 The wandering spirit telleth not ; 
 Perchance the bauble, the gay toy 
 That filled the childish heart with joy, 
 Was tempting on the sad one s feet ; 
 Then the maternal eye would meet 
 His own, and chiding, seem to say, 
 " It is not thine, my boy ; away 1 " 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 229 
 
 I heard him say, " I come ! I come ! " 
 Ah ! he was dreaming then of home ! 
 Of home ? ; Tis there the spirit clings, 
 As long as fitful reason flings 
 Her lucid halo round the heart, 
 Whose clinging tendrils cannot part 
 With sunny smiles, that ever there, 
 Chased tenderly the falling tear ! 
 
 I heard him shrieking, " No, no, no ! " 
 From that sweet home he could not go ; 
 Ah ! hadst thou ever felt as now, 
 The wildness had not marked thy brow ; 
 The demon had not seized the throne, 
 That in the past was all thine own ! 
 And never, till thy heartstrings break, 
 Shall the sad vision thee forsake ! 
 
 Now thou art playing with the flowers, 
 Whose colors bring the youthful hours 
 As bright as they, as tranquil too, 
 As when the cooling, sparkling dew 
 Bathed them to freshness, when the sun 
 His fiery, ardent course had run : 
 No cooling dew thy cup shall fill, 
 Till the poor heart lies cold and still I 
 
 Behold him listening to the breeze 
 That rustles through the stately trees ! 
 
230 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 A faint smile lights the vacant eye, 
 As moaning, murmuring blasts sweep by ! 
 Swift passing by, as passed the days 
 That witnessed all -his childish plays ; 
 But never more shalt thou behold 
 The sunny, playful times of old ! 
 
 I saw, horror ! mid the roll 
 Of thunder, struggles of the soul ! 
 As if the sudden, mighty crash, 
 The wildness of the lightning s flash, 
 Had torn asunder the strong strings 
 That bind the soul to meaner things : 
 And like the sun, the mighty mind 
 Looked forth revealed, but far behind ! 
 
 Behind the clouds, as is the sun 
 
 When he his garments putteth on ; 
 
 His sombre robes, his dim attire, 
 
 When hideth he his mighty fire. 
 
 But who will doubt, when storms shall cease, 
 
 When cometh he, in clear, sweet peace, 
 
 0, who will doubt his glory then, 
 
 When storms, nor clouds, shall intervene ? 
 
 So shalt thou stand when storms are o er 
 (When darkness shall divide no more 
 The mental view), revealed in peace, 
 With glory crowned, the soul s increase 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 231 
 
 Shall fill the blank of time, and thou 
 Shalt glorify thy God : e en now, 
 That sudden light, that look from thee, 
 Presageth what thou then shalt be ! 
 
 SNOW. 
 
 0, WHAT beautiful gossamer flakes 
 The down from the tree of heaven makes ! 
 Pure as the fingers that shake the tree : 
 White as the garments the angels see ! 
 
 Gently and softly it cometh down, 
 Giving the pines a beautiful crown ! 
 Clothing their greenness with a white robe, 
 The fairest and purest e er seen on the globe ! 
 
 Spotless it cometh ! seeming to say, 
 " Sinless the realms, as beams of the day, 
 Up where the loved ones, waiting to fly, 
 Look for the spirits cleaving the sky, 
 
 " Look for the dear ones longing to go 
 Where the bright garments (white as the snow 
 On the green pine trees) wait for the soul 
 Wishing to go where the anthems roll ! 
 
232 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 " Beautiful home ! sin dwelleth not there ; 
 Sin with its sorrow, sadness, and care ; 
 Up to the light ! there knowing as known, 
 There, where the seeds immortal are sown. 
 
 " Up where they grow, nor blighted their bloom 
 Shining forever ! like a soft plume, 
 Fit for the angels, clustering seen 
 Growing together mid the den^e green, 
 
 " Covering the plains of beauty and bliss, 
 Up where the heavenly zephyrs shall kiss, 
 Tenderly, soothingly, every tear 
 Left on the eye while sorrowing here." 
 
 Beautiful snow, linger till spring ! 
 Linger until the beautiful green 
 Cometh in gladness, freshness, and love, 
 Pointing our hearts to the Eden above ! 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 233 
 
 PRINCE. 
 
 BOUNDING, jumping-, springing away ! 
 Always blithesome every day ; 
 Summer arid winter, hot or cold, 
 Trying to tell what never is told ; 
 Trying to tell how happy is he, 
 Following where his master may be : 
 Asking no questions, feeling no doubt ; 
 Always a friend, in doors and out ! 
 
 Always watching, awake and asleep ; 
 Dozing, but never slumbering deep ; 
 Sometimes dreaming all about ine, 
 Sometimes barking up the wrong tree I 
 Sometimes thinking of the last bone, 
 Sometimes giving a sorrowful groan : 
 Doubtless sometimes shadows will flit, 
 Of some fair one, who gave him the mitt ! 
 
 Happy is he when morning begins, 
 Holding his head (when tea-kettle sings) 
 All on one side ; just as though he, 
 Some straggling mouse wanted to see : 
 Watching the cupboard s open door, % 
 Viewing the dishes wistfully o er ; 
 Hoping a plate will soon be seen, 
 Waiting for him to lick up clean. 
 
234 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 Swallowing down all that he finds, 
 All but the bones : sometimes he grinds 
 Them with a zest, sucking them too 
 (Much the same way as the dear girls do 
 The dainty saccharine presents that flow 
 From each liberal, happy, and smiling young 
 
 beau) 
 
 Quickly it s over, and waiting, he now 
 Looks up at his master, and makes his bow 
 wow ! 
 
 Isn t he knowing for one who can t speak ? 
 
 When I scold him, he looketh so meek : 
 
 When I tell him supper is near, 
 
 Shakes he all over, looking so queer 
 
 Up in my face ! seeming to say, 
 
 " Come to the table, come, come away ! " 
 
 When I am sick, sorry is he, 
 
 Nestling, fawning, looking at me ! 
 
 Haven t I said enough to convince 
 
 Every kind person they ought to love Prince ? 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 235 
 
 THOU SLEEPEST NOT. 
 
 HELPLESS, Father ! helpless, sore, and sad 
 Amid the storms, when all my hopes are clad 
 In disappointment : brooding o er iny lot, 
 The light breaks through, because Thou sleepest 
 
 not : 
 And every fear that- thought doth cheer, God ! 
 
 Rough is the road, Father ! but Thy hand 
 Doth lead me on, through all this barren land ; 
 Weary, I find a resting-spot 
 Beneath the darkest cloud ; Thou sleepest not ! 
 Thou, whilst I sleep, my soul dost keep, God ! 
 
 And when I wake, Father ! it is sweet, 
 Some fellow-traveller praising Thee, to meet ; 
 So, when I rise with vigor from my cot, 
 I bless Thee then, because Thou sleepest not ; 
 And I will praise Thee all my days, God ! 
 
 Sometimes I hear, Father ! distant sounds 
 Come floating softly, far beyond the bounds 
 Of my short vision ! and my ear hath caught 
 The chorus of the song " Thou sleepest not 1 " 
 That choral strain doth soothe my pain, God ! 
 
 Sometimes, Father ! noontide makes me faint 
 Beneath the heavy burden, and I pant 
 
236 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 With thirst, for the high blazing sun is hot 
 Upon my head ; but 0, Thou sleepest not ! 
 Then Thou dost bring Thy sheltering wing, God I 
 
 ? Tis sweet to love Thee, Father ! sweet to know 
 Thou lovest me, while journeying here below. 
 Without thy love, my life were but a blot ; 
 Thy love is priceless, for Thou sleepest not ! 
 Keep meek and mild, Thy favored child, God ! 
 
 I care not, Father, what the world may do 
 To me in life, if on my raptured view 
 Thy smile shall dwell ! It matters not, one jot, 
 If millions frown, because Thou sleepest not ! 
 Twill not be long ere I am home, God ! 
 
 ACROSTIC. 
 
 0, WHO imparted constant joy 
 Unto the heart that loves her boy, 
 Reclining where no cares annoy ? 
 Bo-peep every now and then, 
 At some familiar, loving ken ! 
 Bliss for thee be ever in store ; 
 Yea, forever, and evermore !