B 3 
 
LIBRARY 
 
 OF THR 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 GIFT OF 
 
 Class 
 
CALIFORNIA SONGS 
 
 By 
 
 R. A. S. WADE 
 
 Author of 
 "The Parchment" and other Poems 
 
 BROADWAY PUBLISHING CO. 
 
 NEW YORK AND BALTIMORE 
 835 Broadway 1722 N. Calvert 
 
COPYRIGHT, 1910. 
 
 BY 
 R. A. S. WADE. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 This Book is dedicated 5 
 
 La Canada 6 
 
 Yearning 8 
 
 The Rose , 9 
 
 La Monte 10 
 
 Los Angeles 1 1 
 
 The Magic Mint 12 
 
 Harro 14 
 
 Nobody Knows 15 
 
 The Long- Ago Land 17 
 
 The Grey Boys 18 
 
 Blackwater Chapel 19 
 
 Johnson Wheeler 21 
 
 Rosalind 23 
 
 The Substitute 23 
 
 Debris 25 
 
 The Tramps 25 
 
 Annie 26 
 
 The Shambler 27 
 
 Gwendolyn 29 
 
 A Wish 30 
 
 Maggie 31 
 
 The Circle Letter 35 
 
 The Queen 38 
 
 Darkness and Light 42 
 
 Dying 44 
 
 Powder and Ball 48 
 
 The Sunday Worker 51 
 
 Santa Ana Commandery, K. T 52 
 
 The Dreamer 53 
 
 The Columns 54 
 
 The Old Dinner Horn 56 
 
 John of Tyrone 59 
 
 The Test ." 61 
 
 Gone 63 
 
 A Hero 63 
 
 Greeting 65 
 
 Fifty Years 65 
 
 Farewell 67 
 
 A Prayer 68 
 
 Oh ! Would ! 68 
 
 A Vision 68 
 
 The Hen , 69 
 
 202059 
 
Songs 
 
 THIS BOOKLET IS DEDICATED 
 
 To the Friends who dream 
 
 By the mountain stream 
 Where the laurel trees are growing; 
 
 To the Friends who meet 
 
 In the village street 
 Where the prairie wind is blowing. 
 
 To the Friends who gaze 
 
 Where the heavens blaze 
 And the lightning s gleam is flashing; 
 
 To the Friends who stroll 
 
 Where the breakers roll 
 And the ocean waves are dashing. 
 
 To the Friends who toil 
 
 In the ceaseless moil 
 In the mart of the busy city ; 
 
 To the Friends who pray 
 
 For the souls that stray 
 Where there s neither love nor pity. 
 
 To the Friends who work 
 
 In the sacred Kirk 
 With an ardor unabating; 
 
 To the Friends who lie 
 
 Out beneath the sky 
 W T here the silent dead are waiting. 
 5 
 
CALIFORNIA SONGS 
 
 To the man whose life 
 Is an endless strife, 
 Where the air is oft mephitic, 
 In a fruitless fight 
 With the men who write, 
 To our dauntless friend, the critic; 
 
 R. A. S. WADE. 
 2229 Morcum Ave., Los Angeles, Cal., Aug. 24, 1909. 
 
 LA CANADA. 
 
 Have you been to the vale 
 Sweeping up ~ r om Glendale 
 When the wind blew a gale 
 In wild La Canada ? 
 
 Have you wandered at will 
 When the night wind was still 
 And your heart was athrill 
 In the vale, La Canada ? 
 
 Have you sat half asleep 
 Where the shadows were deep 
 When the summer nights sweep 
 O er dark La Canada ? 
 
 Oh ! the fairest that grows 
 Is the soft-tinted rose, 
 When the summer wind blows 
 In bright La Canada. 
 
 There the flowers never die ; 
 There the mountains are high, 
 And their peaks touch the sky 
 Around La Canada. 
 
CALIFORNIA SONGS 
 
 There the piteous wail 
 Of the unmated quail 
 Strikes the heart like a flail 
 In fair La Canada. 
 
 There the mocking bird trills 
 All the music that thrills 
 The glad heart in the hills 
 Round dear La Canada. 
 
 And the turtle doves greet 
 Their fair mates when they meet 
 With their cooings so sweet 
 In sweet La Canada. 
 
 And the lights of Mount Lowe 
 In the summer nights O low 
 Where the wildflowers blow 
 By fair La Canada. 
 
 There the splendor enthralls, 
 And the light grandly falls 
 On the Gould castle walls, 
 By fair La Canada. 
 
 Oh ! the mist-shrouded hills 
 And the grandeur that fills 
 Every heart till it thrills 
 In fair La Canada. 
 
 Not a sad bell may toll ; 
 Not a shadow may roll 
 O er the undisturbed soul, 
 In calm La Canada. 
 
 There no tear dims the eye 
 
 And no heart heaves a sigh 
 
 Where the summer birds fly 
 
 In fair La Canada. 
 
CALIFORNIA SONGS 
 
 And no mortal may weep 
 Where the silent years sleep, 
 As the centuries sweep 
 O er fair La Canada. 
 
 There the soul is at rest, 
 And the spirit is blest 
 In the vale we love best, 
 In dear La Canada. 
 
 And the day and night seem 
 To glide by like a dream 
 Where the softest moonbeam 
 Falls on La Canada. 
 
 There is nought that will cloy, 
 There s no trace of alloy 
 In that valley of joy, 
 
 The sweet La Canada. 
 
 Tis an unhappy day 
 
 When the sad heart must say, 
 
 As it wanders away : 
 
 "Farewell! La Canada!" 
 
 YEARNING. 
 
 I looked through my window away at the scene 
 Where mountains were clothed in their vestments of 
 green, 
 
 While tints that were rarest 
 
 And hues that were fairest 
 Lent charm to the hills and the valleys between ; 
 
 I gazed at the vision, 
 
 The beauty Elysian, 
 And wished I might roam in that region serene. 
 
 8 
 
CALIFORNIA SONGS 
 
 I hopefully toiled o er the hill and the dale ; 
 I dared the enchanting Sierras to scale ; 
 
 But foot-sore and weary 
 
 And heart-sore and dreary 
 I sought for the beauty but nought would avail ; 
 
 The charm so alluring 
 
 Had proved unenduring ; 
 The beauty had fled and I sought but to fail. 
 
 But farther away in the distance I see 
 
 Where mountains and valleys and hills seem to be 
 
 In splendor enshrouded 
 
 In regions unclouded ; 
 Yet sometimes they seem to be closer to me, 
 
 And show to my vision 
 
 Those regions Elysian 
 And splendid enchantments that never will flee. 
 
 And oft as I gaze at the beautiful scene 
 Beyond the dim valley that stretches between 
 
 My heart yearns to wander 
 
 In peace over yonder 
 Among the fair hills in the meadows of green, 
 
 Where tints ever blending 
 
 Lend beauty unending, 
 That thrills the rapt heart in that region serene. 
 
 THE ROSE. 
 
 O, how oft do I go 
 
 In the morning s first glow, 
 And more oft when the weary day closes, 
 
 To my favorite nook 
 
 By the murmuring brook, 
 Where so sweet is the scent of the roses. 
 
CALIFORNIA SONGS 
 
 In the shade of the trees 
 
 The industrious bees 
 To the nectar-filled flowers are clinging; 
 
 And the grasshopper s song 
 
 All the summer day long 
 From the neighboring meadow comes ringing. 
 
 When the evening is still 
 
 The low-whispering rill 
 Its sweet message to mortals is sending, 
 
 As it tells of the peace 
 
 We shall know without cease 
 In the gardens of bliss never-ending. 
 
 And there comes the soft beat 
 
 Of invisible feet 
 As the angels are gently descending; 
 
 While more sweet grows the rose, 
 
 And its richer tint shows 
 That the heavenly guests are attending. 
 
 And my heart-throbs most hush 
 
 As I breathe the sweet gush 
 Flung abroad by a heavenly pinion ; 
 
 And the scent of the rose 
 
 Tells to men that it grows 
 On the margin of heaven s dominion. 
 
 LA MONTE. 
 
 La Monte, thy soft breezes 
 
 Bring perfume that pleases 
 Where bees gather nectar 
 From bloom as they fly ; 
 
 Thy church bells are ringing ; 
 
 Thy Christians are flinging 
 Their songs through the grovelets, 
 The gardens and sky. 
 
 10 
 
CALIFORNIA SONGS 
 
 Thy hearts, pure and tender, 
 
 True reverence render 
 To Him who directs them 
 In all of their ways ; 
 
 And, e er interceding 
 
 And earnestly pleading, 
 Seek grace to assist them 
 In perfecting praise. 
 
 And God ever guides them, 
 Whatever betides them, 
 And hears every prayer, 
 Every song that is sung; 
 And safe in His keeping, 
 Through travail and weeping, 
 They gather their dear ones 
 While yet they are young. 
 
 O, Saviour, be near them ; 
 
 And evermore hear them ; 
 And guide them and keep them 
 In all of their ways ! 
 
 May their interceding 
 
 Bring others to leading 
 Their children to Thee 
 In the morn of their days ! 
 
 LOS ANGELES. 
 
 As fair as the morning 
 She stands here adorning 
 This heaven-kissed shore, 
 Summer land of perfume ; 
 Her bosom is swelling, 
 Her lips ever telling 
 Her lovers to haste to 
 Her beauty and bloom. 
 
 II 
 
CALIFORNIA SONGS 
 
 Though proud and commanding 
 
 She sweetly is standing 
 Her hands ever white 
 And her heart ever pure ; 
 
 Her power extending, 
 
 Her youth never ending, 
 Her beauty immortal 
 As years shall endure. 
 
 THE MAGIC MINT. 
 
 A poet constructed a magical mint 
 
 That turned out its coin without limit or stint 
 
 From ore of his mining, 
 
 All sparkling and shining, 
 Enchanting the eye with its magical glint. 
 
 Its coinage was neither of silver nor gold, 
 
 Though anxiously sought by the young and the old; 
 
 It ran without ceasing, 
 
 Its coinage increasing, 
 Yet never the sum of its output was told. 
 
 The coin was accepted all over the earth ; 
 Wherever the children of men knew its worth, 
 
 Where hearts had grown weary 
 
 And life become dreary, 
 It went and took gladness and music and mirth. 
 
 To rich and to poor, to the grave and the gay 
 This magical money was given away; 
 
 The poor and the needy, 
 
 The sordid and greedy, 
 Drew cash on their checks all the hours of the day. 
 
 It came to the home when the yuletide was near, 
 And ingleside glow filled the bosom with cheer, 
 
 12 
 
CALIFORNIA SONGS 
 
 And young hearts were beating, 
 And parents repeating 
 The rhymes, runes and rondeaus the young like to hear. 
 
 This coin was not stored up in cities and banks, 
 And loaned to the poor without pity or thanks ; 
 
 It spread through the nations 
 
 In lavish donations, 
 Exalting, enlightening men of all ranks. 
 
 Nor carried in trains over mountain and lea, 
 
 Nor borne in great ships through the depths of the sea 
 
 To add to men s pleasures, 
 
 Or build up their treasures, 
 Where commerce recorded its binding decree. 
 
 But, treasured and held in the heart of a child 
 
 That played in the woods where the flowers grew wild, 
 
 Or strayed fondly dreaming, 
 
 This coin threw its gleaming 
 In visions that ravished and charmed and beguiled. 
 
 It burgeoned and grew in the hearts of the young, 
 And over their lives its enchantments were flung 
 
 By forest and fountain, 
 
 And meadow and mountain, 
 In tales that were told and the songs that were sung. 
 
 The coiner s soft tread in the gloaming was heard, 
 When sweetly the heart of a maiden was stirred, 
 
 As memories came stealing, 
 
 Her child-songs revealing 
 In sigh of a zephyr or song of a bird. 
 
 Or, kept by a mother when burdened with care, 
 Or sunk in the depths of the deepest despair, 
 
 With heart that was bleeding, 
 
 And lips that were pleading, 
 Its sheen threw a buoyance and radiance there. 
 
 13 
 
CALIFORNIA SONGS 
 HARRO. 
 
 When the boat had returned from the wreck 
 And had brought all the men from the deck, 
 
 Harro, bold, brave and true, 
 
 As the wind wildly blew, 
 Asked his men if they saved all the crew. 
 
 They replied that so fierce was the blast 
 A poor man, lashed high up on the mast, 
 
 Had been left there to die ; 
 
 Though his prayer rent the sky 
 They had turned a deaf ear to his cry. 
 
 "I will bring him away. Who will go ?" 
 Harro said, while the sleet and the snow, 
 
 As it swept through the air, 
 
 Filled his beard and his hair ; 
 And the brave men were filled with despair. 
 
 "I will go ! I will save him alone !" 
 Harro said ; and his confident tone 
 
 Filled the sailors with cheer, 
 
 As a dozen drew near ; 
 And they sprang in the boat without fear. 
 
 "To the wreck !" Harro said : "Pull away !" 
 At that moment in wildest dismay, 
 
 In the tempest s wild roar, 
 
 As the hand held the oar, 
 Harro s mother appeared on the shore. 
 
 "For the love of me, Harro, don t go !" 
 Cried the mother. "Dear Harro, you know 
 
 Your dear father and Fred 
 
 Both are lost ; perhaps dead ! 
 O, come back, my dear Harro !" she plead. 
 
 14 
 
CALIFORNIA SONGS 
 
 He replied : "But the man on the mast 
 Is exposed to this pitiless blast ! 
 
 Is there no one to sigh, 
 
 No dear mother to cry 
 And to wait for her son should he die ?" 
 
 She replied not a word ; and the boat 
 Sped away where the ship was afloat ; 
 
 But the sea was so high, 
 
 And so wild was the sky, 
 That in vain was the lone sailor s cry. 
 
 When they thought that to try was to fail, 
 To be driven to death in the gale ; 
 
 When their last hope was fled, 
 
 And the man all but dead, 
 Then the Teuton spoke bravely and said : 
 
 "When I hear that man s piteous cry, 
 It remains but to do and to die !" 
 
 And the sailors, aghast, 
 
 Said : "Good bye" as he passed 
 To his death or the man on the mast. 
 
 But he brought the man down from the mast ; 
 And the boat flew away through the blast ; 
 
 To his mother he sped 
 And triumphantly said : 
 "O, dear mother ! Dear mother ! It s Fred !" 
 
 NOBODY KNOWS. 
 
 She comes to wash and away she goes; 
 And where she goes to nobody knows ; 
 She has her griefs, her trials and woes, 
 But what her afflictions are, nobody knows. 
 
 15 
 
CALIFORNIA SONGS 
 
 Her face is faded as a last year s rose ; 
 Was it one time beautiful? Nobody knows; 
 Her hand is small as she wrings the hose; 
 In youth who pressed it? Nobody knows. 
 
 When red her lips, as the blushing rose, 
 Who stooped to kiss them? Nobody knows; 
 When fresh her heart as the breeze that blows, 
 Who cruelly crushed it? Nobody knows. 
 
 Did they bury her lover beneath the snows 
 In years long vanished? Nobody knows; 
 Does her heart go back where the willow grows 
 In a far-off churchyard ? Nobody knows. 
 
 What broken vows could the past disclose 
 That blasted her happiness? Nobody knows. 
 What slight or scorning chilled and froze 
 Her life s warm current? Nobody knows. 
 
 She rubs and wrings, as her thin face glows; 
 Is her heart wrung sorely? Nobody knows. 
 And over her cheek a lone tear flows; 
 
 What memory caused it? Nobody knows. 
 
 i 
 
 Her head is white as the winter snows ; 
 What storms have tossed it? Nobody knows; 
 And when the wind of adversity blows 
 Is she kindly shielded? Nobody knows. 
 
 Is her life all toil and care and woes, 
 And bitter heart-burnings? Nobody knows. 
 If the end should come ere the day shall close, 
 Is there any to mourn her? Nobody knows. 
 
 16 
 
CALIFORNIA SONGS 
 
 THE LONG-AGO LAND. 
 
 Far over the prairie I wandered one day, 
 Where the cattle were lazily straying; 
 
 And many a moment I loitered away, 
 
 Where the murmuring breezes were playing. 
 
 I wandered where oft I had gone in the days 
 When the flowers long faded were growing, 
 
 When life was made bright by the morning sun s rays, 
 And the skies of my boyhood were glowing. 
 
 The flowers I rudely crushed under my feet 
 Seemed to look at me earnestly pleading, 
 
 As if their fair petals were lips to repeat 
 The sad story of hearts that were bleeding. 
 
 I gathered them there as my heart warmly beat; 
 
 And though sadly disfigured and broken, 
 They told me a story so plaintive and sweet, 
 
 Though the language they used was unspoken. 
 
 The story they told me you d not understand ; 
 
 Twas of years I most tenderly cherished ; 
 Of friends I loved well in the long-ago land, 
 
 And the roses that bloomed and then perished. 
 
 I dreamed of old years as the fleet moments sped 
 Till the flowers were withered and drooping; 
 
 Of hopes, like the flowers, all withered and dead, 
 Till their ghosts like dim shadows came trooping. 
 
 I sat and dreamed on till the moon lit the sky 
 And the stars in the heavens were shining, 
 
 And till the sad notes of the whippoorwill s cry 
 Joined the spirit s more plaintive repining. 
 
 17 
 
CALIFORNIA SONGS 
 
 THE GREY BOYS. 
 
 I send you a greeting to-day, boys, 
 
 And a shake, wherever you are; 
 I hope you are jolly and gay, boys, 
 
 And under a lucky star. 
 
 And here s to the dear old days, boys, 
 
 The days of the long ago, 
 The seasons of sled and sleighs, boys, 
 
 And speeding through tossing snow. 
 
 And here s to you when you are grey, boys, 
 
 And your steps are getting slow ; 
 When you ve fought through the thick of the fray, boys, 
 
 And your heads are bending low. 
 
 But many we loved in the years, boys, 
 
 For whom we tenderly yearn, 
 Who joined in our joys and tears, boys, 
 
 Are gone and can never return. 
 
 And oft in the silence I sigh, boys, 
 
 For those that have gone before ; 
 And oft there s a tear in the eye, boys, 
 
 For those we shall meet no more. 
 
 The world has its bitter and sweet, boys, 
 
 A smile or a kick for all; 
 A place for our weary feet, boys, 
 
 Or an answer as bitter as gall. 
 
 But it s pretty much what we make it, boys; 
 
 It s tender, and crabbed, too ; 
 It leaves you when you forsake it, boys, 
 
 And clings to you when you are true. 
 
 18 
 
CALIFORNIA SONGS 
 
 And sometimes it s beauty and bloom, boys, 
 
 With flowers along the way; 
 And then it s drizzle and gloom, boys, 
 
 And skies that are sodden and grey. 
 
 I ve sometimes been pretty blue, boys, 
 
 While toiling along the way, 
 And wished I could be with you, boys, 
 
 And hear what you had to say. 
 
 And oft when I suffer wrong, boys, 
 And patience is put to the test, 
 
 The way seems weary and long, boys, 
 And I dream of the end and rest. 
 
 It ll soon be the crack o doom, boys, 
 And rest and a dreamless sleep ; 
 
 And they ll lay us away in the tomb, boys, 
 And others will toil and weep. 
 
 BLACKWATER CHAPEL. 
 
 I ll sing you a song of old Blackwater Chapel, 
 
 Where oft by the tree on the greensward we stood 
 While brave men who ever were ready to grapple 
 With duty sat there in the church by the wood; 
 Dear, faithful old men ! 
 Time, time and again 
 They strove for the right and the pure and the good. 
 
 They stood for the right in the day of temptation 
 
 When strong men were quailing and hard was the 
 
 fight; 
 
 They fought through the battle without trepidation, 
 Well knowing their Captain was ever in sight; 
 And while He was near 
 They never knew fear; 
 The yoke was made easy, the burden made light. 
 
 19 
 
CALIFORNIA SONGS 
 
 How fortunate was it that we were enfolded 
 
 In love such as theirs in the day of our need, 
 The years when our characters largely were moulded 
 And freely the tempter was sowing his seed; 
 With tenderest care 
 They guarded us there 
 Till precept had burgeoned and blossomed in deed. 
 
 Gregg, Gibson, the Wheelers, Scruggs, Chipman and 
 
 Spurgeon, 
 
 Smith, Winston, the Siceloffs, were always on hand, 
 And Walker and Triplett, with seed that will burgeon 
 And blossom in beauty in many a land 
 Where children shall hear 
 Through many a year 
 The tale of that faithful, heroic old band. 
 
 I came to those men when my days were in danger 
 
 From pitfalls and snares that the young ever meet; 
 And though but a wayward, indifferent stranger 
 They sought me and guided my wandering feet 
 To ways of all truth, 
 And bound me in youth 
 By ties that have ever been tender and sweet. 
 
 They came to me often and earnestly pleaded 
 The cause the believer has ever held dear ; 
 And while their good counsel too long was unheeded, 
 It burgeoned and grew after many a year; 
 They ceased not to plead, 
 But sowed the good seed, 
 Assured that the harvest would some day appear. 
 
 I firmly believe if kind fate had not brought me 
 Away from men given to grovel and grope, 
 
 Where evil companions successfully sought me, 
 And given me friends full of faith, love and hope, 
 
 20 
 
CALIFORNIA SONGS 
 
 As decades passed by 
 I might have swung high 
 And ended my days at the end of a rope. 
 
 When weighing the causes that tended to make me 
 
 The man that I am both for evil and good 
 I find my inquiries unconsciously take me 
 
 Straight back to the Church that stood there by the 
 
 wood, 
 
 And those faithful men, 
 Who worshiped there then, 
 And ever for truth and integrity stood. 
 
 O, sweet and salubrious, fresh as the morning, 
 
 The atmosphere was that surrounded us there; 
 Those men, true and faithful, had nothing but scorning 
 For vicious and profligate people who dare 
 To cozen frail youth 
 To ways of untruth 
 And pleasure s mephitic, enervating air. 
 
 Hail ! men good and true, who so patiently guided 
 
 Our feet in the way that led up to the light; 
 All honor to men who, when evil betided, 
 
 In tenderness turned us from wrong unto right; 
 Hail ! men good and true, 
 Gone home, all but two ; 
 Brave men who triumphantly fought the good fight. 
 
 JOHNSON WHEELER. 
 
 O, he was a wonderful 
 Man that was under full 
 
 Sail all his days to the 
 
 Regions of light ; 
 Who stood in the frent of the 
 Fray; and the brunt of the 
 
 Battle was fought where he 
 
 Smote with his might. 
 
 21 
 
CALIFORNIA SONGS 
 
 He constantly wrought in the 
 Cause and he fought in the 
 
 Army that marched with the 
 
 Banner of truth; 
 His voice ever rang and he 
 Joyfully sang, and he 
 
 Brought men to God in the 
 
 Days of their youth. 
 
 He strove with a will every 
 Task to fulfill ; every 
 
 Kind, loving word to a 
 
 Neighbor to speak; 
 With heart full of cheer and a 
 Lenient ear and a 
 
 Grasp of the hand for the 
 
 Lowly and meek. 
 
 He ever besought us, and 
 Patiently taught us, and 
 
 Led us in ways that the 
 
 Master had trod ; 
 Whatever betided he 
 Tenderly guided, he 
 
 Lovingly turned erring 
 
 Mortals to God. 
 
 Dear, faithful, old friend, he was, 
 True to the end ; he was 
 
 Found at his post till his 
 
 Labors were o er ; 
 
 Then still grew the tongue that had 
 Guided the young, that had 
 
 Pointed the way to the 
 
 Heavenly shore. 
 
 And sweet be his rest in the 
 Land of the blest, in the 
 
 Mansions above, where no 
 
 Tears ever flow; 
 
 22 
 
CALIFORNIA SONGS 
 
 And where we shall meet him and 
 Tenderly greet him and 
 
 Love him again as we 
 
 Loved him below. 
 
 ROSALIND. 
 
 Her life is a flower 
 That blooms every hour 
 
 And scatters its fragrance 
 
 Wherever she goes ; 
 And brings to her mother, 
 Her father and brother, 
 
 A gladness that swells till 
 
 The heart overflows. 
 
 She shrinks from no duty; 
 
 And ethical beauty 
 
 Adorns every action 
 From morning till night; 
 The Light of the Saviour 
 
 Inspires her behavior 
 
 And guides her in ways that 
 Are joyous and bright. 
 
 THE SUBSTITUTE. 
 
 Twas a winter day 
 
 And the teacher lay 
 In his bed too ill for teaching ; 
 
 So he said he d send 
 
 In his place his friend 
 Who had taught, though his work was preaching. 
 
 23 
 
CALIFORNIA SONGS 
 
 Brother Preacher went ; 
 
 And the day was spent 
 In imparting truth and chiding; 
 
 And the sturdy youth 
 
 As he taught the truth 
 Up and down the aisle went striding. 
 
 Close beside the aisle 
 
 With suspicious smile, 
 Sat a youth, a husky creature; 
 
 And there seemed no doubt 
 
 As his foot stuck out 
 He was trying to trip the teacher. 
 
 With a tricksome slip 
 
 When he failed to trip, 
 The young man would then withdraw it; 
 
 But the trick was vain; 
 
 For it seemed quite plain 
 That the watchful teacher saw it. 
 
 But the lad was green ; 
 
 And too dull, I ween, 
 To perceive that the man would watch him; 
 
 On his frolic bent 
 
 He was too intent 
 To perceive that the man would scotch him. 
 
 So it chanced at last 
 
 As the teacher passed 
 And the foot straight out came sticking, 
 
 That the teacher grabbed 
 
 And the foot was nabbed, 
 And was held in despite of kicking. 
 
 And the teacher put 
 
 The adventurous foot 
 Neath his arm and went on walking; 
 
 And he never stopped 
 
 As the young man hopped 
 And the teacher went on talking. 
 
 24 
 
CALIFORNIA SONGS 
 
 And he taught and talked, 
 
 And he taught and walked; 
 And the pupils wrote and figured; 
 
 Brother Preacher smiled, 
 
 And the youth was riled, 
 And the pupils sat and sniggered. 
 
 DEBRIS. 
 
 He built him a house on a street that was clean 
 Where idleness, fashion and folly held sway, 
 Where statesmen and jurists and writers were seen, 
 Where vanity madly ran riot all day ; 
 
 And custom and law, in that home of the free, 
 Exacting, relentless, demanded that he 
 Must clean up the ground and remove the debris; 
 And he paid the cost with a temper serene. 
 
 He built him a factory down where you see 
 
 The toilers with faces all anxious and worn, 
 The mothers clad thinly, though cold it may be, 
 The children in garments all threadbare and torn ; 
 The maimed and unfit disappeared from the scene ; 
 Their destitute families grew hungry and lean ; 
 He built up a fortune with temper serene, 
 But what did he do with his human debris? 
 
 THE TRAMPS. 
 
 Beside his open window on the prairie 
 The station agent ate his noonday feast; 
 
 Two hungry tramps \vent by in mood so merry 
 And said : "Report two empties goin east." 
 
 25 
 
CALIFORNIA SONGS 
 
 Within a box car as the train was flying 
 And madly leaping as the speed increased 
 
 The tramp said sadly, as his pard was dying: 
 "This morning but one empty s goin east !" 
 
 A crash, a plunge, and down beside the river 
 A restless, wandering spirit was released ; 
 
 A mangled form, a gasp, a ghastly quiver; 
 And then, there were no empties goin east ! 
 
 ANNIE. 
 
 May good angels guide thee, 
 May woes ne er betide thee, 
 
 \Vhere e er thou shalt go; 
 It grieves us to leave thee; 
 May good friends receive thee 
 
 Where e er thou shalt go. 
 
 We ever shall love thee ; 
 May angels above thee, 
 
 Where e er thou shalt go, 
 In kindness attend thee; 
 Our prayers we shall send thee 
 
 Where e er thou shalt go. 
 
 We ne er can forget thee 
 What e er may beset thee 
 
 Where e er thou shalt go. 
 May joy ne er forsake thee 
 But smiles overtake thee 
 
 Where e er thou shalt go. 
 
 No more we may meet thee ; 
 Yet glad we would greet thee ; 
 
 Where e er thou shalt go. 
 May nought ever grieve thee, 
 May no one deceive thee 
 
 Where e er thou shalt go. 
 
 26 
 
CALIFORNIA SONGS 
 
 THE SHAMBLER. 
 
 The Christian who s advancing, 
 Whose value is enhancing, 
 
 Will scarcely stoop 
 
 To join the group 
 Who give their time to dancing. 
 
 She who abounds in praying 
 Will not go gaily straying 
 
 Where fashion s dames 
 
 Their euchre games 
 And bridge and whist are playing. 
 
 Those who in boundless measure 
 
 Have laid up heavenly treasure 
 
 Eschew the plays 
 
 Where nights and days 
 
 The worldly seek their pleasure. 
 
 At Sunday school on Sunday; 
 At cards or plays on Monday; 
 
 Or else, perchance, 
 
 A worldly dance ; 
 A wretched salmagundi. 
 
 Do you whose Christian graces 
 Invite you to such places 
 
 Seek comfort where 
 
 The hour of prayer 
 Brings light to care-worn faces? 
 
 Does your responsive greeting 
 At every mid-week meeting 
 
 Cheer every heart 
 
 And bear its part 
 In heartfelt prayer repeating? 
 
 27 
 
CALIFORNIA SONGS 
 
 Do you on Sunday morning 
 Proclaim the timely warning 
 
 To eager youth 
 
 To seek the truth 
 And flee from doubt and scorning? 
 
 And when your toil-worn preacher, 
 The harassed, weary creature, 
 
 Has work to do 
 
 Does he choose you 
 As leader or as teacher? 
 
 Nay, Sister! Nay, my Brother! 
 Your pastor seeks another, 
 
 Who never strays 
 
 In worldly ways ; 
 Some faithful, praying mother. 
 
 The blessed Holy Spirit 
 Communes with those who hear it; 
 
 But cards and plays 
 
 And worldly ways 
 Will never lead us near it. 
 
 These doubtful pleasures call you 
 Where dangers may befall you; 
 
 Too swift and sure 
 
 Their fatal lure ; 
 And vice may soon enthrall you. 
 
 When Christians take to rambling 
 The road is short to shambling; 
 
 And not too long 
 
 To maudlin song 
 And brothel-house and gambling. 
 
 To put the matter plainly 
 The man is striving vainly 
 
 Who thinks to rise 
 
 Yet shuts his eyes 
 Then plunges down insanely. 
 
 28 
 
CALIFORNIA SONGS 
 
 GWENDOLYN. 
 
 When spring s gentle breezes blew in from the sea 
 And bird songs rang gaily in garden and tree, 
 Across from my window just over the way 
 Two sweet little children were ever at play. 
 
 I saw by their dresses, their tresses and curls 
 That they were two dear little frolicsome girls; 
 And ever it happened that day after day 
 Dear Gwendolyn hastily scampered away. 
 
 She seemed not to have any object in view 
 Except to be gone, and she merrily flew; 
 She oft left her sister at play on the lawn 
 And followed the path that her father had gone. 
 
 She left in the roadway her wee little track; 
 And often she turned as she ran and looked back, 
 Well knowing the mother s soft, sheltering arm 
 Would soon shield her wandering darling from harm. 
 
 One day when she wandered she came to me here 
 And jumped in my lap without scruple or fear, 
 And nestled her little face close to my breast 
 Just as a wee birdie asleep in its nest. 
 
 Then hearing the call of her mother she ran, 
 As if the return were a part of the plan, 
 And, putting her hand in her mother s she smiled 
 The heavenly smile of an innocent child. 
 
 We dreamed not that when the June roses would bloom 
 And gladden that child with their tints and perfume, 
 The wander-lust call would entice her away 
 To wander where only the angels may stray. 
 
 29 
 
CALIFORNIA SONGS 
 
 O, sweet, little bird, whither now is she flown, 
 
 So far from her dear ones, her loved and her own, 
 
 Her wee little sister with tears in her eyes, 
 
 Who asks for her playmate with sobbing and sighs ? 
 
 O, there in the way is her wee little track, 
 She calls, she awaits them, she ever looks back 
 No fear in her heart and no tears in her eyes, 
 Awaiting her mother tip there in the skies. 
 
 O, mother ! O, father ! Your spirits attune 
 To hear the sweet voice that grew silent in June 
 Where heaven s sweet symphonies ever are sung 
 And ever employ your dear Gwendolyn s tongue. 
 
 A WISH. 
 
 O, would we could sing with the bards of the ages 
 Inspiring the hearts of the millions of earth, 
 
 The tyrants and patriots, prophets and sages, 
 To value all men at their ethical worth ! 
 
 O, could we but love as our dear, blessed Master, 
 All mortals in spite of their leanness of soul, 
 
 The great day would hasten still faster and faster 
 When gladness would reign far as sea billows roll ! 
 
 Or plead as an angel in words that were burning 
 With mortals to flee the attractions of sin 
 
 Ere the mills of the gods, although slow in their turning, 
 Crush all whom the tempter can gather within ! 
 
 O, that we could sing as at dawn of the morning 
 The mocking bird flings its proud notes to the skies 
 
 And send to the fallen of earth the glad warning 
 To flee to the One that can help them arise! 
 
 30 
 
CALIFORNIA SONGS 
 
 Or had we the wisdom of prophets and sages 
 
 To lead erring mortals, the weak and the strong, 
 
 The base and depraved of all ranks and all ages, 
 To cleave to the right and to flee from the wrong! 
 
 O, that we might fly on a Heaven-born pinion 
 With swiftness and ken of an angel of light, 
 
 Wherever apostles of wrong have dominion 
 
 And shatter their thrones in defense of the right ! 
 
 Or could we but go where the greedy despoiler 
 
 Lays tribute on homes where the mother hearts bleed, 
 
 Or filches the earnings of many a toiler, 
 
 And stay his strong hand when the fatherless plead ! 
 
 MAGGIE. 
 
 The water was gone and their strength was gone, 
 
 And the sun blazed out on high; 
 They mounted the horses and hurried on, 
 
 While a furnace glowed in the sky ; 
 The heart grew faint as the men of brawn 
 
 Well knew that the end was nigh. 
 
 Deserting poor Maggie, the friendless squaw, 
 Whose husband was lying there dead, 
 
 Those men of the desert where might was law, 
 Took their children and wives and fled. 
 
 She begged to be taken along with their wives. 
 
 She looked in their eyes and plead. 
 They said they would save no Indians lives 
 
 That all the good Indians were dead; 
 That nothing of good in the heart e er thrives 
 
 When the hue of the skin is red. 
 
 31 
 
CALIFORNIA SONGS 
 
 One look where the Indian was lying low, 
 
 One plaintive and piercing wail, 
 And Maggie was off in the furnace glow, 
 
 And followed the blistering trail. 
 
 The riders all reckless too rashly rode 
 
 In search of a spring or well ; 
 And, roasted and crushed by their heavy load, 
 
 The famishing horses fell. 
 
 Where deeply the sun had impressed its stamp 
 
 Those men of true pluck and brawn 
 Afoot struggled on in a fruitless tramp 
 
 Till half of the night was gone ; 
 And Maggie arrived in the parching camp 
 
 Not far from the hour of dawn. 
 
 When morning appeared and the scorching breath 
 
 Swept down from the blazing sky 
 And burned every living thing to death, 
 
 A terrible fate seemed nigh. 
 
 Away went the men through the burning sands 
 
 In search of the far-off springs, 
 With blistering faces and feet and hands, 
 
 And fear of more dreadful thing s. 
 O, braver the hearts of the desert lands 
 
 Than the hearts in the homes of kings! 
 
 The women remained to await their fate, 
 
 Exposed to the raging heat, 
 With nothing to drink, though their thirst was great, 
 
 And scarcely a morsel to eat. 
 
 No shield from the sun but an outspread shawl; 
 
 And none from the earth beneath; 
 And no one but Maggie to hear their call, 
 
 Or weave them a funeral wreath. 
 
 32 
 
CALIFORNIA SONGS 
 
 As morn disappeared and the noonday came 
 
 And the sun-dogs began to play 
 The pitiless heaven seemed all aflame, 
 
 And perishing there they lay ; 
 While tender maiden and stronger dame 
 
 All flung their garments away. 
 
 Their courage was gone and their hope was gone; 
 
 Their tongues were swollen and dry ; 
 A red-hot wind, since the early dawn, 
 
 Had blown from the brazen sky ; 
 And Maggie sat silent as hours dragged on, 
 
 And nought remained but to die. 
 
 They made up their minds as the moments passed 
 
 And famishing there they lay 
 To start for the spring, and the die was cast ; 
 
 No longer there they would stay ; 
 They said the)* would tramp through the fiery blast, 
 
 Though perish they might by the way. 
 
 And painfully crawling along they went, 
 
 Along on the burning sands ; 
 Their single garment was torn and rent, 
 
 And bloody their feet and hands ; 
 Their flesh was torn and their blood was blent 
 
 With tears where the cactus stands. 
 
 And when they no longer had strength to creep 
 
 They dug a trench in the ground, 
 And covered themselves from the sun s full sweep 
 
 Till water and help could be found; 
 Or where if they sank to their final sleep 
 
 They d lie till the last trump s sound. 
 
 Though used to the desert as years went by, 
 
 To thirst and a fading trail, 
 Old Maggie looked up at the blazing sky, 
 
 And her courage appeared to fail. 
 
 33 
 
CALIFORNIA SONGS 
 
 She gave but a glance where the women lay 
 
 That gave little clue to her mind, 
 And over the desert she took her way, 
 
 And never once looked behind. 
 
 The wind became still and the desert air 
 
 Lay hot as a boiling wave ; 
 The famishing women in blank despair 
 
 Lay there in a living grave ; 
 One lost her reason and tore her hair, 
 
 With no loving hand to save. 
 
 Far over the hills by a desert spring 
 
 Their husbands had lain all day, 
 Unable to stand or attempt to bring 
 
 Supply where the women lay. 
 
 And there when the evening shadows fell 
 
 As hot as Gehenna s breath, 
 The moment drew nigh when no tongue could tell 
 
 The tragical tale of death. 
 
 When all became still as the home of the dead, 
 
 And scarcely a pulse was stirred, 
 A weary, a feeble, and stealthy tread 
 
 Along the hot trail was heard. 
 
 No hand was lifted, no eye looked up, 
 
 So low was the current run ; 
 But parched lips drank from the brimming cup, 
 
 And Maggie s brave work was done. 
 
 Three days in the blistering, blasting heat 
 
 The women were forced to stay ; 
 And over the trail where the sun s rays beat 
 
 Old Maggie brought water each day, 
 iWhile sorely she yearned to direct her feet 
 
 To where the dead Indian lay. 
 
 34 
 
CALIFORNIA SONGS 
 
 THE CIRCLE LETTER. 
 
 Some bonnie clear letters came to-day, 
 
 A bunch as thick as your hand, 
 All pinned together in a careless way; 
 And though they had met six months delay, 
 As if they had been to far Cathay, 
 
 Those little old letters were grand. . 
 
 And I read those letters o er and o er, 
 
 I read them one by one; 
 
 And my heart was stirred to its inmost core 
 By the welcome words from friends of yore, 
 Some of whom, no doubt, I shall see no more, 
 Till we meet at last on the viewless shore, 
 
 When our earthly walk is done. 
 
 Then back through the misty years I went, 
 
 To seventy-two to eight ; 
 When some of our bonniest hours were spent, 
 Ere any of us with care was bent, 
 W r hen sorrow and care to the rear were sent- 
 
 The years when we paid no freight. 
 
 So warm were the words, so full of cheer, 
 
 So rollicking, jolly, and bright, 
 That each fellow s voice I seemed to hear 
 As often I heard it bland and clear 
 In many a sunny, bygone year ; 
 They jostle my heart clean out of gear, 
 
 So wildly it throbs to-night. 
 
 But fellows, alas ! I dinna ken 
 
 Why Tommy should cut us out ; 
 I wrote him to join us, wrote again, 
 But got not a word, no scratch of pen, 
 From Tommy, the best of princely men, 
 The Tommy I never could doubt. 
 
 35 
 
CALIFORNIA SONGS 
 
 But here s to the one we leave behind, 
 
 The Tommy we all loved well ; 
 A boy with a heart so good and kind; 
 A man with a vigorous, healthy mind; 
 The man with a spirit twice refined ; 
 Whose word was as good as a bond when signed, 
 
 Our bonnie dear boy, farewell. 
 
 And here s to the fellows that go along, 
 
 That sail in the same old boat; 
 That stay with the crowd whether right or wrong; 
 That sing whether sombre or glad the song; 
 That hammer the drum or bang the gong, 
 
 To keep the old vessel afloat. 
 
 We sailed in the same boat long ago, 
 
 When bright shone the morning sun; 
 We pulled at the oar in the early glow, 
 When swift was the current s onward flow, 
 And nothing there was to make life slow, 
 Wlien the race was scarce begun. 
 
 We lingered a while on the river side 
 
 Where the fairest flowers grew ; 
 We leisurely drifted with the tide 
 And slowly allowed our craft to glide; 
 Then pulling the throttle open wide 
 
 We sang as we onward flew. 
 
 And then when the heat of the day was come 
 
 We found there was work to do ; 
 We landed the boat and smashed the drum ; 
 We shattered the gong and left it dumb; 
 We hustled in earnest and made things hum; 
 We gathered the harvest and wasted some; 
 Till now we are tired and somewhat bum 
 
 And are looking around for the crew. 
 
 36 
 
UNIVERSITY I 
 
 OF / 
 
 o RNIA SONGS 
 
 And there in the west is the setting sun, 
 
 And the night is drawing nigh ; 
 All ready is the boat for the homeward run, 
 So hurry aboard and join the fun 
 Ere the race is finished and the day is done, 
 
 And we re called to our home on high. 
 
 Quite frail is the boat and rough is the way, 
 
 And some one may soon be lost; 
 So steady on your oars and pull, I say ; 
 And sing a merry song while yet you may, 
 For some one may sink neath the wave to-day, 
 
 And the rest be tempest tossed. 
 
 So jolly old fellows, don t break away, 
 
 As long as the bark will float; 
 I know we are old and turning gray, 
 We have shot our wads and played our play, 
 Have been frazzled out for many a day, 
 And soon, whether we vote yea or nay, 
 
 We ll sail for a shore remote. 
 
 But let s whoop it up for a short time yet, 
 
 Ere the old craft runs aground ; 
 Ere shadows grow long and the sun shall set; 
 Don t worry and stew and fume and fret, 
 And scramble for gold till there s none to get; 
 Don t gather in fish till you break your net; 
 Put up an old sign, "A Farm to Let," 
 And stay in the house when it s cold and wet; 
 Sing like an old tar or a young soubrette ; 
 Be merry as when of old we met ; 
 And whate er you do, boys, don t forget 
 
 Your Servant when his sleep is sound. 
 
 37 
 
CALIFORNIA SONGS 
 
 THE QUEEN? 
 
 In beauty she sat with the king on the throne ; 
 The peer of the proudest in jewels she shone; 
 
 In living for pleasure 
 
 The peer beyond measure 
 Of any fair mortal men ever had known ; 
 
 The peer in her notion, 
 
 That steadfast devotion 
 To earth s gilded ways will bring mortals their own. 
 
 She bowed at her shrine ; yea, quite proudly she trod 
 The pathway that led to the temple of God; 
 
 In strictest seclusion, 
 
 Disdaining intrusion 
 Of mortals ignobly allied to the clod, 
 
 She learned of her duty 
 
 Mid splendor and beauty, 
 While meekly the millions passed under the rod. 
 
 Each day on her wardrobe was spent enough gold 
 
 To clothe and feed scores that went hungry and cold; 
 
 She knew they were dying, 
 
 She knew they were crying 
 For raiment and food for the sick and the old, 
 
 Yet scattered her treasure 
 
 In frivolous measure, 
 And lavish expenses too great to be told. 
 
 She talked with the learned, the wise and the great, 
 Who guided in safety the Church and the State, 
 
 Whose golden opinions 
 
 Throughout her dominions, 
 Were sought by the wise for their value and weight, 
 
 Then gave to her dresses, 
 
 And gem-bedecked tresses, 
 Her time and her money both early and late. 
 
 38 
 
CALIFORNIA SONGS 
 
 She often had more than one dress for each day; 
 And once having worn one she cast it away ; 
 
 Gores, gussets, and creases, 
 
 Twas taken to pieces, 
 And sent piece by piece to the giddy and gay; 
 
 She wasted thus gaily 
 
 Full gold enough daily 
 To build a small schoolhouse where riot held sway. 
 
 Her elegant kennels were cozy and clean, 
 And stood where the lawns and the trees were kept 
 green ; 
 
 The food was inspected, 
 
 And nothing neglected 
 To keep the dear quadruped inmates serene ; 
 
 Their numbers exceeded, 
 
 For oft they were needed 
 To drive away folks that were hungry and lean. 
 
 The owner came often and fondled them there, 
 Where bright was the sunshine and pure was the air ; 
 
 And oft they went riding 
 
 While modestly hiding 
 Beneath the warm cloaks of an ermine-clad pair, 
 
 While down in the crowded 
 
 And shadow-enshrouded, 
 Congested environs were want and despair. 
 
 Her stables were spacious, expensive, and fine; 
 Her equerries drank but the choicest of wine; 
 
 The stud was extensive, 
 
 And all was expensive, 
 And millions were spent with ignoble design, 
 
 Amid the down-trodden, 
 
 The stolid and sodden, 
 Who hopelessly lived but to fret and repine. 
 
 Her yachts w r ere the swiftest that flew o er the wave ; 
 And nothing was spared that the wealth of earth gave 
 
 39 
 
CALIFORNIA SONGS 
 
 To add to their beauty; 
 
 She thought it her duty 
 To squander the millions that taxpayers gave 
 
 To add to the pleasure, 
 
 In infinite measure, 
 Of those who earned nothing from birth to the grave. 
 
 Superbly her palaces towered on high, 
 
 Where bloom-bordered lakelets lay under the sky; 
 
 And coziest bowers, 
 
 And sweet-scented flowers, 
 Shed fragrance and beauty as days drifted by; 
 
 While many a mother, 
 
 Or wee little brother, 
 In wretched surroundings was fated to die. 
 
 Her levees were made up of people who spurned 
 The things with which people should most be concerned, 
 
 Who wasted their treasure 
 
 In following pleasure, 
 In sowing the seed that in folly returned, 
 
 While heartlessly reaping 
 
 What others in weeping, 
 And sorrow and stern self-denial had earned. 
 
 Her life drifted on like a beautiful dream ; 
 
 Its joys and its pleasures to her were supreme; 
 
 No tears for the dying, 
 
 No cheer for the sighing, 
 And suffering ones that Christ died to redeem; 
 
 She saved her emotion, 
 
 And tender devotion, 
 For those she thought worthy of queenly esteem. 
 
 Her life was a symphony sung, but unheard ; 
 
 No soul was enraptured, no noble thought stirred; 
 
 No dark sky was rifted, 
 
 No soul was uplifted; 
 
 40 
 
CALIFORNIA SONGS 
 
 Her life was mere emptiness smutted and blurred; 
 
 Its beauties were wasted, 
 
 Its sweetness untasted 
 The dark shadows lingered and hope was deferred, 
 
 She thought she was like a proud bird in its flight, 
 That soared through the regions of glory and light, 
 
 While birds that were rarest, 
 
 Of plumage the fairest, 
 Alone were permitted to bask in her sight, 
 
 And felt that all others, 
 
 The kites and their brothers, 
 Ignobly should fly to the regions of night. 
 
 She knew not and dreamed not that worthy men knew 
 Where birds of fair plumage and sweet singers flew ; 
 
 And never suspected 
 
 Such men had rejected 
 Her false claim to fly in the skies fair and blue; 
 
 And thought it more fitting, 
 
 That she should go flitting 
 Like bats in the darkness where noisome things grew. 
 
 And worthy men knew that the feathers of gold 
 
 That decked her proud flock, if the truth were but told, 
 
 Were plucked so unkindly 
 
 From owners who blindly 
 Submitted and meekly went half-clad and cold; 
 
 Their costliest winings, 
 
 And daintiest dinings, 
 Were taxed on the toil of the young and the old. 
 
 She lived and she died in a temper serene, 
 Mid gardens of beauty and bowers of green; 
 
 And though she was gifted, 
 
 Yet idly she drifted, 
 And floated with flotsam where wreckage was seen; 
 
 Exalted in station, 
 
 Adored by the Nation, 
 Yet, tell me, dear reader, oh ! was she a queen ? 
 
 41 
 
CALIFORNIA SONGS 
 
 DARKNESS AND LIGHT. 
 
 My feet have grown weary, my eyes become dim; 
 And over my pathway all rugged and grim, 
 
 With ominous greeting 
 
 The shadows are fleeting; 
 The darkness creeps over the earth s distant rim, 
 
 And tells me my roaming 
 
 Will end in the gloaming, 
 Where Baca s dark flood fills its banks to the brim. 
 
 As quietly gather the shades of the night, 
 
 And earthly and sordid things fade from the sight, 
 
 Then nearer and nearer, 
 
 And clearer and clearer, 
 The great and eternal things, love, truth, and right, 
 
 And self-abnegation, 
 
 And conquered temptation, 
 Transcendently shine with a glorious light. 
 
 And things that have long been imperfectly seen, 
 Shine out as the stars in their grandeur serene; 
 
 The fruit of denial ; 
 
 And conflict and trial; 
 The pain and the sorrow that oft intervene, 
 
 So dimly revealing, 
 
 And often concealing 
 The arm on which man may confidingly lean. 
 
 The faith and obedience constantly taught, 
 The happy achievement, the victories wrought, 
 
 In patience or meekness, 
 
 In strength or in weakness, 
 When God s revealed will is implicitly sought, 
 
 Shine out in those pages 
 
 That tell how the sages 
 And prophets their battles triumphantly fought 
 
 42 
 
CALIFORNIA SONGS 
 
 Mysterious things at first shrouded in gloom 
 Unfold as the petals and burst into bloom 
 
 With rich exhalations, 
 
 And pure emanations, 
 Of healing and beauty and precious perfume; 
 
 A sweet-smelling savor 
 
 Of God s loving favor 
 To sweeten and brighten the road to the tomb. 
 
 Things difficult once for the heart to believe, 
 
 And things that the carnal mind could not perceive, 
 
 In faith s clearer vision, 
 
 And years of decision, 
 No more their false web of deception could weave ; 
 
 But brightened with beauty 
 
 The pathway of duty, 
 Enabling the pilgrim lost years to retrieve. 
 
 The specious, insidious, clamorous belief, 
 As bold as a robber, yet sly as a thief, 
 
 Which, false and misleading, 
 
 So often comes pleading, 
 That faith will assist us. but reason is chief 
 
 Is but a deceiver 
 
 To guide the believer 
 To danger from maelstrom, rock, shallow, and reef. 
 
 This hoary belief is as false as the years; 
 Yet ofttimes in truth s stolen garb it appears, 
 
 And gets recognition 
 
 And lofty position 
 Among those that pose as true teachers and seers, 
 
 And dialecticians, 
 
 And clever logicians, 
 But flee when confronted with penitents tears. 
 
 On this false belief men erect with great care 
 Their structures and systems imposing and fair; 
 
 43 
 
CALIFORNIA SONGS 
 
 Men noted for learning, 
 Sagacious, discerning, 
 
 When searching the Scriptures audaciously dare, 
 To lay their foundations 
 In ratiocinations, 
 And leave out the cornerstone, heart-searching prayer. 
 
 The scholar who searches for spiritual truth 
 To spread as a feast before hungering youth, 
 
 Armed mainly with reason, 
 
 Is guilty of treason ; 
 And scatters the seeds that will burgeon in ruth; 
 
 The scholarly critic 
 
 Spreads virile, mephitic, 
 Seductive, destructive ideas, in sooth. 
 
 When God s revealed will by His Children is heard, 
 Unless our proud hearts into vaunting are stirred, 
 
 God s chastening spirit, 
 
 If meekly we hear it, 
 Will show us the things that are taught in His Word ; 
 
 And safely will guide us, 
 
 And tenderly hide us, 
 Where faith is not shaken and hope not deferred. 
 
 DYING. 
 
 They say he is dying, his life ebbs away, 
 
 Where Florida s zephyrs are sighing; 
 The Brother who went with me oft to my play, 
 When far from our door my wee feet could not stray; 
 Who gave me support in each boyish affray, 
 Lies weak and emaciated, wrinkled and gray, 
 Where orange trees bloom and all nature is gay, . 
 
 While peacefully, patiently dying. 
 
 44 
 
CALIFORNIA SONGS 
 
 He dies as he lived with his spirit at peace; 
 
 And peace will depart from him never; 
 From pain and from toil he will soon find release ; 
 No more shall vexation and burdens increase ; 
 His heart-throbs and sorrows will soon find surcease; 
 
 Surcease, yes, forever and ever. 
 
 We roamed the same wood and inhaled its perfume; 
 
 We plucked the same flowers in the wild wood ; 
 We saw the same jaybird despoiled of its plume; 
 We chased the same flying squirrel on to its doom ; 
 We saw the same ghost as it stalked through the gloom ; 
 W T e watched the same winding blades, hackle and loom, 
 As Mother worked on in the old lumber room, 
 When heart was aglow and the cheek was abloom, 
 
 Amid the sweet days of our childhood. 
 
 We played by the side of the same little rill 
 That ran through the yard down the hollow; 
 
 We knew where the winter green grew on the hill ; 
 
 Where wood-peckers bored in the tree with the bill; 
 
 We knew the best place for a wee flutter-mill, 
 
 Though often to make one would baffle our skill, 
 And sad disappointment would follow. 
 
 When spent was my strength or unsteady my arm, 
 
 He hastened at once to my calling; 
 When aught intervened to disturb Or alarm, 
 At school, or at home, or at play on the farm ; 
 When moral delinquency threatened to harm ; 
 Or boyish beguilements were ready to charm, 
 
 His steadiness kept me from falling. 
 
 When childhood was gone he still stood by my side, 
 
 A shield and support in temptation ; 
 When waywardness welled as an incoming tide, 
 And youthful integrity sorely was tried, 
 On his steady counsel I always relied, 
 And found him a safe and reliable guide; 
 
 His life was a true inspiration. 
 
 45 
 
CALIFORNIA SONGS 
 
 And when I endeavored to open the door 
 
 That leads to the temple of learning, 
 He guided my feet to the measureless lore 
 That men have collected and laid up in store ; 
 And taught me to trust and rely on him more, 
 And value his help more than ever before, 
 As patiently, earnestly onward he bore, 
 
 With never a shadow of turning. 
 
 And later when childhood and youth were both gone, 
 
 And pathways untried lay before us, 
 In trust and affection we still journeyed on; 
 While struggling up higher to life s brighter dawn 
 Of Christian-like stamina, fibre, and brawn, 
 He stood where the line of uprightness was drawn, 
 
 And knew God s protection was o er us. 
 
 When manhood arrived with new visions of joy, 
 
 Arrived in its strength and its beauty, 
 It showed in our Brother no touch of alloy, 
 But brought the same virtues he showed when a boy, 
 The same strict adherence to duty. 
 
 His life was a guide and a stay to my feet, 
 
 A constant, a real benediction; 
 
 With modest good works his whole life was replete ; 
 His walk ever upright, his conduct discreet ; 
 He won every heart twas his fortune to meet ; 
 For man and for beast his warm heart kindly beat, 
 
 In joy or in grief and affliction. 
 
 Long years have gone by since I looked in his face, 
 That brought him both gladness and sorrow ; 
 
 But doubtless his growth has been upward in grace ; 
 
 To still higher virtues the lower gave place ; 
 
 Not one upward step could he ever retrace ; 
 Each day not so good as the morrow. 
 
CALIFORNIA SONGS 
 
 Magnificent man, his whole life was sublime, 
 
 And worthy the world s imitation ; 
 As good at his worst as most men at their prime, 
 He traversed the heights that not many may climb, 
 And builded a Mansion to stand for all time, 
 
 With Christ as the only foundation. 
 
 He stood for the right when his standing was play, 
 
 When standing for right was the fashion; 
 He stood for the right in the thick of the fray, 
 When currents were running the opposite way, 
 When men had to battle to carry the day, 
 When men were disturbed and unreason held sway, 
 Amid the wild whirlwinds of passion. 
 
 He dies as the grain at the harvest time dies, 
 
 When ripe and full ready for reaping ; 
 His work is well done ; he is winning the prize ; 
 He now is cut down, but he soon will arise 
 To garner the treasure laid up in the skies, 
 Where loved ones and lost ones shall gladden his eyes, 
 
 And where there s no sorrow or weeping. 
 
 Our Brother is going, he s crossing the bar. 
 
 Far out o er the sea he is sailing, 
 The soft winds are wafting his vessel afar ; 
 The white sails grow less like a vanishing star; 
 No tempest will gather the voyage to mar ; 
 No lightning will shiver the mast or the spar ; 
 Serenely he sails without tremor or jar, 
 To regions where loved and departed ones are, 
 
 And youth ever blooms without failing. 
 
 And we are bereft, we are robbed of our own, 
 
 To journey alone in our sorrow 
 
 Through paths where the brambles and thistles have 
 grown, 
 
 47 
 
CALIFORNIA SONGS 
 
 From which the bright sunshine and songbirds have 
 
 flown, 
 
 Where rudely the winds of chill autumn have blown, 
 And may blow more rudely to-morrow. 
 
 POWDER AND BALL. 
 
 The ships sailed on in a crescent line, 
 And proudly they threw the spray 
 Where slowly the gulls flew over the brine, 
 Some seven-score ships, they say; 
 But our blazing alarms 
 Had aroused to arms, 
 And our fighters were on the way. 
 
 Our old seadogs ! We could hear them growl 
 
 Ere the Spaniard came in sight; 
 And whether the day was fair or foul, 
 As they gathered to join in fight 
 Where the war ships rode 
 They plainly showed 
 The battle would not be light. 
 
 Though Spain was ahead in guns and ships, 
 
 Ahead in the number of men, 
 We knew when the Anglo-Saxon grips 
 He wins if it s one to ten; 
 So waiting the day 
 Like a beast of prey 
 We watched through the night again. 
 
 The morning dawned and the day was fair ; 
 
 The wind blew over the sea ; 
 The Spanish ships of the line were there, 
 And close to the ships were we ; 
 We fought them a turn, 
 Till stem and stern 
 They were bloody as ships could be. 
 
CALIFORNIA SONGS 
 
 We shot four shots to their one that day; 
 They luffed and they said: "Come on!" 
 We gave our shots and we sailed away ; 
 We riddled them, then were gone; 
 They opened their eyes 
 With extreme surprise 
 At both our skill and our brawn. 
 
 We shot, we tacked, and we ran away; 
 
 We sailed to the windward sea; 
 We ran two knots to their one that day; 
 They thought we had turned to flee ; 
 They did not know 
 That down below 
 No powder and shot had we. 
 
 "My God!" said the captain, can we win?" 
 
 But the gale swept in from the sea 
 And down went the Spaniard s mast with a din 
 And over his deck went we ; 
 And down in the hold 
 Were casks of gold 
 And tons of powder, you see. 
 
 And quickly we sent the powder around 
 
 To men who were in despair, 
 And then all at once they began to pound 
 The galleons sailing there ; 
 
 And the Dons could see 
 We never would flee 
 As our wild cheers rent the air. 
 
 And just off Portland motionless lay 
 
 Both fleets as the sun rose high; 
 But we knew the sea breeze soon would play 
 A tune from the western sky ; 
 But down in the hold 
 The story was told 
 No powder and shot had they, 
 
 49 
 
CALIFORNIA SONGS 
 
 And back from the admiral came the word, 
 
 No powder to fight that day, 
 While there was the Spaniard spry as a bird; 
 And we in idleness lay, 
 
 While the Queen had all 
 The powder and ball 
 Locked up in the Tower, they say. 
 
 A courier went from the admiral s ship 
 
 And plead with the Queen, did he; 
 But she held the keys so tight in her grip 
 That vainly he pressed his plea ; 
 Ammunition had she 
 Under lock and key, 
 But none for the men at sea. 
 
 "Go back to the admiral, sailor," said she, 
 
 In the presence of courtiers and all 
 "Go back to the admiral, sailor, and see 
 What proportion of powder and ball!" 
 And the courier sped 
 Where the decks were red, 
 And our banner seemed ready to fall. 
 
 And the admiral swore at the sailor and said: 
 
 "Great God ! What a Queen is she ! 
 Our ships are bloody, and our men are dead, 
 And powder under lock and key ! 
 She has money and food 
 For her sycophant brood, 
 But no powder for the men at sea!" 
 
 The sailor rode back and we had our way, 
 
 For the Tudor was more serene; 
 We got the powder, and we won the day ; 
 We swept out the Channel clean ; 
 Though hardly half fed 
 Our Englishmen bled 
 And triumphed in spite of the Queen. 
 
 5 
 
CALIFORNIA SONGS 
 
 THE SUNDAY WORKER. 
 
 You say that Sunday s for man, Jim, 
 And you re going to work if you choose ; 
 
 That you ll hustle as long as you can, Jim, 
 That you have little time to lose. 
 
 You say that your time is your own, Jim, 
 
 And you ll work or you ll play as you please ; 
 
 That you never bow down at the throne, Jim, 
 Nor waste any time on your knees. 
 
 That God doesn t punish a man, Jim, 
 
 For having a way of his own ; 
 But follows a far better plan, Jim, 
 
 By leaving a man all alone. 
 
 You say you will not take His word, Jim, 
 When He tells us that we must obey; 
 
 That such a command is absurd, Jim ; 
 And you simply will have your own way. 
 
 Some others have felt the same way, Jim, 
 And risked everything on the deal; 
 
 They simply refused to obey, Jim, 
 And cared not for woe or for weal. 
 
 When Noah s good neighbors of old, Jim, 
 
 Perversely refused to obey, 
 God gave them their way, we are told, Jim, 
 
 And floods quickly swept them away. 
 
 Old Pharaoh defiantly said, Jim, 
 That Israel should never be free ; 
 
 But wept when his first born was dead, Jim, 
 His chariots whelmed in the sea. 
 
 5 1 
 
CALIFORNIA SONGS 
 
 And Hiel refused to obey, Jim, 
 When Jericho s walls were rebuilt; 
 
 But when his two sons passed away, Jim, 
 He saw the result of- his guilt. 
 
 King Saul just refused to obey, Jim, 
 Commands that he knew were divine; 
 
 And God took his kingdom away, Jim, 
 For filching some sheep and fat kine. 
 
 The tale is too long to rehearse, Jim, 
 Where penalties fell upon men 
 
 Too heedless, too blind and perverse, Jim, 
 Though cautioned again and again. 
 
 And men have too often believed, Jim, 
 
 That God had withdrawn from the world ; 
 
 And frequently men are deceived, Jim, 
 And think that His banner is furled. 
 
 The Jews said that He had withdrawn, Jim, 
 And set up false gods of their own; 
 
 And bowed down at darkness and dawn, Jim, 
 To idols of wood and of stone. 
 
 But when by fair Babylon s streams, Jim, 
 Their harps on the willows were hung, 
 
 They found their opinions were dreams, Jim, 
 And wept while their songs were unsung. 
 
 SANTA ANA COMMANDERY, K. T. 
 
 You may think of me when you please, men, 
 
 Down there by the sunlit sea; 
 But down where we took our degrees, men, 
 
 Is a bonnie old place for me. 
 
 52 
 
CALIFORNIA SONGS 
 
 You may care not whether I float, men, 
 
 When my bark sails out to sea ; 
 But down where we rode the goat, men, 
 
 How merry we used to be ! 
 
 Some time when your spirits droop, men, 
 
 Or when every heart is free, 
 When you whoop it up with a whoop, men, 
 
 Oh, sing a merry song for me. 
 
 We shall soon be sailing away, men, 
 
 Far over a chartless sea, 
 Do you know where you re going, oh, say, men, 
 
 Do you know where your port will be ? 
 
 Enroll on the Christian s ship, men ! 
 
 No other can sail the sea 
 We must cross on the final trip, men, 
 
 To where the great Conclave s to be. 
 
 Over yonder beneath the trees, men, 
 In a lodge where the heart is free, 
 
 Where we take our higher degrees, men, 
 Don t you fail to meet with me. 
 
 THE DREAMER. 
 
 I stood by the Judsean mountains 
 Where terebinths spread to the sky, 
 
 Where poppy-worts grew by the fountains, 
 And saw the glad dreamer go by. 
 
 Where Dothan s fair meadows were growing, 
 And brother hearts callous as steel, 
 
 Where well-favored cattle were lowing, 
 I heard a heartrending appeal. 
 
 53 
 
CALIFORNIA SONGS 
 
 Where Ishmaelite rovers were lying 
 
 Beneath the cold Syrian sky, 
 Where Israel s lone captive was sighing 
 
 Ascended a piteous cry. 
 
 From Potiphar s house with its glory 
 There went up a cry of despair, 
 
 Till faith gently whispered the story 
 That Israel s Jehovah was there. 
 
 Then humbly, in byways of duty, 
 Consoling each grief and each sigh, 
 
 Then clothed with all grandeur and beauty, 
 Again the glad dreamer went by. 
 
 THE COLUMNS. 
 
 (Missouri University Building, burned several years 
 ago.) 
 Yes, there are the columns, still standing upright 
 
 With ivy vines clambering o er them ; 
 They stand there as grim through the day and the night 
 
 As when we first stood there before them. 
 
 It s thirty-three years now since you and I trod 
 
 The pathway that guided us to them; 
 And many dear fellows now under the sod 
 
 Were dear to us there where we knew them. 
 
 What measure of bitterness, sorrow, and tears, 
 
 What downfalls and what dissipation 
 Have come to that crowd in those thirty-three years! 
 
 What honors and what elevation ! 
 
 Oh, would that men stood, that we ever could stand 
 
 As firm as those columns of granite, 
 As true to the purpose for which we were planned 
 
 And sent to possess this old planet. 
 
 54 
 
CALIFORNIA SONGS 
 
 Then, when this old world shall be crumbled to dust 
 
 And sent to the limbo of chaos, 
 We grandly would stand with the true and the just 
 
 Where sin never more could betray us. 
 
 But men are unlike the firm columns of stone, 
 
 Unmoved in the sweep of the ages ; 
 They re more like the clay or the chaff that is blown, 
 
 Swept off by each tempest that rages. 
 
 You ask me where now are Court Yantis and Jay, 
 Choate, Wheeler, Babb, Mike, and the others, 
 
 Louis Hoffman, Rash Feagans, Buck Berry, and Gray, 
 And Sherman, all dear as our brothers ? 
 
 Some linger here yet, but their footsteps are slow, 
 
 While quietly seeking for knowledge ; 
 And some are promoted, as you and I know, 
 
 And passed to a more advanced college. 
 
 They sat with the Sophs and the Freshmen no more, 
 Their ties with the Juniors were broken ; 
 
 They distanced the Seniors ; they passed on before ; 
 Their final farewells were all spoken. 
 
 They sang a new song ere they hasted away; 
 
 They said their good-bys at the station ; 
 The moment had come, and they could not delay, 
 
 To meet a new matriculation. 
 
 All pale were their faces and dim were their eyes, 
 And folded their hands when they started ; 
 
 They silently went to that school in the skies, 
 And left their friends here broken-hearted. 
 
 They ll never come back from that school far away, 
 Though ceaseless and sore is our yearning; 
 
 Matriculates enter, but graduates stay, 
 Nor sigh for the day of returning. 
 
 55 
 
CALIFORNIA SONGS 
 
 But were they all ready to enter that school? 
 
 Were some without due preparation? 
 Dear fellows, they had to submit to the rule, 
 
 And went to the examination. 
 
 Dear fellows ! We do not know how they stood there, 
 Where closely their work was inspected, 
 
 How many of them were shut out in despair, 
 Marked down and shut out as rejected. 
 
 Matriculates there had to do their own work; 
 
 There was no depending on cronies ; 
 No chances were given to cheat or to shirk 
 
 Or dig out their lessons with "ponies." 
 
 Their entrance depended on labor well done, 
 Through years of hard toil and devotion, 
 
 On self-sacrifice since their work had begun 
 Without any thought of promotion. 
 
 And soon we shall stand where those dear fellows stood, 
 
 And either be passed or rejected, 
 With no opportunity then to make good 
 
 The chances we may have neglected. 
 
 THE OLD DINNER HORN. 
 
 Oh, do you recall it, the little tin horn? 
 
 Ah, well, very well I remember ; 
 When far, far afield in the meadow or corn, 
 With spirit aglee or with spirit forlorn, 
 Our labor grew near the fag-end of the morn, 
 Of all earthly sounds to persuade or to warn, 
 Its tone was the sweetest heard since I was born, 
 
 In April, in June, or November. 
 
 56 
 
CALIFORNIA SONGS 
 
 Oh, glad was the heart and so swift were the feet, 
 
 And blithely our spirits were flowing ; 
 The forest was gay and the flowers were sweet 
 Whenever its welcome tones called us to eat, 
 
 When that dear old horn we heard blowing. 
 
 Sometimes in my musings I picture the day 
 When first that old horn was set blowing ; 
 
 The bonnie wee girls that came in from their play 
 
 And wanted to tote the new tooter away, 
 
 Their dress not so modern and eke not so gay ; 
 
 The same girls whose heads are now sprinkled with gray, 
 Who soon to their rest will be going. 
 
 Or was it before any bairnies had come 
 That olden time home to make brighter? 
 
 Ere Mother s old spinning wheel started to hum ; 
 
 Ere trouble and toil were the chief of life s sum ; 
 
 Ere girlhood gave place to life s weary humdrum ; 
 Those years when her burdens were lighter ? 
 
 It may be our grandmother brought it along 
 One day when she came with her sewing; 
 While in from the hayfield were wafted a song, 
 The ring of the crum-crick in merry ping-pong, 
 The swish of the scythe in arms steady and strong, 
 From where the haymakers were mowing. 
 
 And whence came the money that settled the bill ? 
 
 Or was the bill paid in hard money? 
 It might be that Father rode over the hill 
 Conveying an old-fashioned grist to the mill 
 And eke to the store with a hearty good will 
 
 Some eggs or a few pounds of honey. 
 
 And when at the eve he came home from the mill 
 
 And brought home the grist from the milling, 
 He brought the old horn to his bride on the hill 
 Awaiting him there, with her heart all athrill, 
 Dressed plainly in linsey with never a frill, 
 But teady for cooing and billing. 
 
 57 
 
CALIFORNIA SONGS 
 
 And then for amusement they tested it there, 
 
 While standing outside in the gloaming, 
 With hair-raising screeches and heathenish blare, 
 Alarming the neighbors and splitting the air, 
 And giving the cattle and horses a scare 
 That sent them skyhooting and roaming. 
 
 Or maybe he wandered along by the shore, 
 
 Where old wooden vessels were lying, 
 In Baltimore, where he had gone in the yore 
 To market his cattle and sheep by the score. 
 And bought the old horn at an olden time store ; 
 And over the rivers and mountains he bore 
 The gift till he met his young bride at the door, 
 Where, toiling with old-fashioned gusset and gore, 
 She sweetly sat waiting and sighing. 
 
 Gone, gone is our grandmother, gone to her rest, 
 Who chided us times, without number; 
 
 But chiding or blessing she did for the best; 
 
 She did her whole duty at Heaven s behest; 
 
 She slumbers at rest in the Isles of the Blest, 
 And peaceful and sweet is her slumber. 
 
 And gone are the couple that stood by the gate 
 And blew the old horn in the gloaming ; 
 
 They toiled for the bairnies both early and late, 
 
 When young in their prime and when old and sedate; 
 
 They went at the call, they submitted to fate; 
 
 And long are the years to the bairnies who wait, 
 And weary their feet in their roaming. 
 
 And weary the heart and so dreary the day, 
 
 And lonely the road we are going; 
 And slowly the feet tread the long, dusty way; 
 The flowers are dead and the forest is gray ; 
 The music is sad, touch the chords as they may; 
 And hushed are the voices forever and aye 
 
 We heard when the old horn was blowing. 
 
 58 
 
CALIFORNIA SONGS 
 
 And gone is the horn with our halcyon days ; 
 
 Its dust with our lost ones is sleeping; 
 It vanished away in the mist and the haze ; 
 Its echoes are dead, buried deep in the maze 
 Of childhood s sweet land, where we wistfully gaze, 
 As fade its fair heights in the sun s dying rays, 
 
 While nought comes to us but our weeping. 
 
 JOHN OF TYRONE. 
 
 Old John of Tyrone, dear old John of Tyrone, 
 C!ome out of the silence, come unto your own, 
 
 And tell us the tales in your keeping ; 
 The stories they told you when you were a chap 
 And all cuddled down in your fair mother s lap, 
 
 Told often in sighing and weeping. 
 
 Oh, where were your grandfathers, John of Tyrone, 
 When William of Orange came unto his own 
 
 Amid much confusion and bustle? 
 Stood they with our William when over he came 
 To win him a crown and establish his name, 
 
 And give bonnie Jamie the hustle? 
 
 When England s false friends were debasing the coin, 
 When England s true monarch was winning the Boyne, 
 
 Where were they ? Out houghing the cattle ? 
 Were they with our William when Boyne was at flood 
 And William for England shed Protestant blood ? 
 
 Or with Bonnie Jamie in battle? 
 
 And when the Stuart star in adversity set 
 When exile and penury were to be met, 
 
 Was that the sad day of their weeping? 
 Or rode they in triumph as William passed by 
 With England s proud banner unfurled to the sky. 
 
 Where William s grave cohorts were sweeping; 
 
 59 
 
CALIFORNIA SONGS 
 
 And when those brave soldiers for country and God, 
 Shut up within walls of old Erin s green sod, 
 
 Fought nobly in old Londonderry, 
 Did they stand for William, your worthy old sires, 
 Did they warn their comrades with bright beacon fires 
 
 That blazed from old Ulster to Kerry ? 
 
 Were they with the heroes that won in the fight, 
 Or were they cut down ere the end was in sight 
 
 By slaughter, disease, or starvation? 
 Perhaps they returned to their families to tell 
 The tale of the siege and their comrades that fell, 
 
 A story of war s desolation. 
 
 When gallant Prince Rupert rode into the fray, 
 When Cavalier troopers were gaining the day, 
 
 Was that your old ancestors inning? 
 Rode they with the Prince as he fought for the crown? 
 Rode they with the Prince when his foemen went down ? 
 
 And triumphed they when he was winning? 
 
 And where were your ancestors, speak out and say, 
 When Cromwell s grim troopers dismounted to pray, 
 
 And went from their knees to their fighting? 
 Did they for the king and the monarchy fight? 
 Or did they with Oliver cleave with their might, 
 
 The foes of their Commonwealth smiting? 
 
 And when the Armada was swept on your shores, 
 And broken and pillaged and robbed of its stores, 
 
 As wildly the tempests were brewing, 
 Did they smite the jewel-decked grandees of _Spain, 
 And harry and torture and murder for gain? 
 
 Was that the red work of their doing? 
 
 Or were they at home by their fanes and their fires, 
 Instructing their families, your good Celtic sires, 
 
 In doctrines of faith and election, 
 While baser men down by the tempest-wracked main 
 \Yere luring and looting the galleys of Spain 
 
 That fled to the Celt for protection? 
 
 60 
 
CALIFORNIA SONGS 
 
 And tell us, old man, when the heretic creed 
 Swept in by the breeze that blew over the Tweed 
 
 And paralyzed Erin with terror, 
 Came they with the fagot, the sword, and the spear 
 To slice away heretic ringer or ear 
 
 And save Papal Erin from error? 
 
 Or were they consumed by a Calvinist zeal 
 And were they impelled to use Protestant steel 
 
 To forward the work of the Spirit? 
 Perhaps they believed that all things were foreknown; 
 The Word was ordained for the chosen alone, 
 
 And no non-elect need to hear it. 
 
 Come out of the silence, old John of Tyrone, 
 Come out where your children are waiting alone 
 
 To hear you tell over your story ; 
 The story you heard in the vanishing years 
 Of torture and death, and of sorrow and tears, 
 
 Of deeds that were tragic and gory. 
 
 THE TEST. 
 
 (From Private Memoirs.) 
 A lady, fair, youthful, and witty, 
 
 Once dined in the home of a peer 
 Amid the elite of the city, 
 
 Where stately St. Peter s stood near. 
 
 Her lover, rich, handsome, and loyal, 
 
 Devotedly sat by her side ; 
 Her lover, who gallant and royal, 
 
 Was waiting to make her his bride. 
 
 The table talk drifted to scaling 
 St. Peter s dome clear to the top ; 
 
 Her lover asserted, while paling, 
 That if he should try it he d drop. 
 
 61 
 
CALIFORNIA SONGS 
 
 "Not for the whole world !" he said plainly ; 
 
 " Not if I should ask it?" she cried; 
 "I know you would not!" he said vainly; 
 
 "Excuse me, I do !" she replied. 
 
 He laughingly tried to dissuade her ; 
 
 She madly insisted and won; 
 For, finding he could not evade her, 
 
 He said the rash thing should be done. 
 
 He went ; and he won ; and, returning, 
 She came and extended her hand; 
 
 He took it ; he kissed it ; discerning 
 That now was his time to command. 
 
 And there in the Eternal City, 
 
 With lords and fair ladies around, 
 
 He spoke in all kindness and pity, 
 But with no equivocal sound. 
 
 "When next you have power, pray use it; 
 
 Don t recklessly throw it away; 
 Don t foolishly, madly abuse it, 
 
 As you have abused it to-day !" 
 
 Then, saying "Good-by!" he departed, 
 As from her forever he turned, 
 
 And left the girl there broken-hearted 
 To ponder the lesson she d learned. 
 
 When did I discover that I was a poet ? 
 Alas ! and alack ! sir, I do not yet know it. 
 
 The standard is high, sir, that measures the poet ; 
 And most who write verses are far, far below it ! 
 
 Too few among men wield the magic to grow it, 
 The flower that blooms by the path of the poet ! 
 
 62 
 
CALIFORNIA SONGS 
 
 He who gives his life where he never could owe it, 
 Who lavishes love and delights to bestow it, 
 
 Whose soul fills the earth and can even o erflow it, 
 That man has the soul of the genuine poet ! 
 
 GONE! 
 
 (Ollie, Cora, Lois, Lillie, and Gertrude.) 
 We saw four lambs and a kid at play 
 
 Where idly the winds were straying ; 
 The heart was glad through the livelong day, 
 
 While gayly the lambs were playing. 
 
 The hills are brown and the grass is dead ; 
 
 The night hawk loudly is crying; 
 The lambs are gone, and the kid has fled, 
 
 And sadly the winds are sighing! 
 
 A HERO ! 
 
 It was down in Oklahoma 
 They sped along in the snow, 
 
 A youth and his lover, Noma, 
 Some dozens of years ago. 
 
 Twas a lonely, desolate prairie 
 Where the Chickasaw lovers sped 
 
 To a home where the guests were merry 
 And the lovers were to be wed. 
 
 As the ponies were swiftly flying 
 And the lovers a moment mute, 
 
 They suddenly heard the crying 
 Of a pack of wolves in pursuit. 
 
 63 
 
CALIFORNIA SONGS 
 
 It was miles to the nearest dwelling, 
 And the Chickasaw had no gun; 
 
 And, the hungry chorus swelling, 
 He whipped his team to a run. 
 
 As the ponies their muscles were straining, 
 And the sleigh flung the snow in spray, 
 
 It was certain the wolves were gaining, 
 And the lovers were losing the day. 
 
 It was death for them both if they waited, 
 For the ravenous pack was near; 
 
 And as for a trice they debated 
 
 Sharp snaps they could plainly hear. 
 
 A kiss, and the Chickasaw, leaping, 
 
 Sprang into a living grave ; 
 One look and the maiden was weeping 
 
 Hot tears for the Chickasaw brave. 
 
 A moment of snarling and snapping, 
 
 A war whoop there on the hill, 
 And loosely the lines were flapping, 
 
 And the maiden s hot pulse grew still. 
 
 On the floor of the sleigh they found her, 
 When the ponies arrived at the gate ; 
 
 And the wedding guests gathered around her 
 To learn of her lover s fate. 
 
 Reviving, she told the story 
 
 Of her lover so true and brave, 
 Who covered his name with glory, 
 
 And went to a hero s grave. 
 
 And down there in Oklahoma, 
 
 Along the old Indian trail, 
 They tell the story of Noma 
 
 And her piteous midnight wail. 
 
CALIFORNIA SONGS 
 
 GREETING. 
 
 To those who besought me 
 
 When evil distraught me 
 To turn from the darkness 
 And seek for the light; 
 
 Who taught me my duty; 
 
 Who showed me the beauty 
 That shines in the life when 
 The heart is made right. 
 
 To those who have striven 
 And faithfully given 
 
 Their lives for the sheep that 
 
 Are out of the fold ; 
 W T ho triumph in winning 
 The souls that are sinning 
 
 To that which is purer 
 
 And better than gold. 
 
 To those who are keeping, 
 
 In joy or in weeping, 
 The path that the prophets 
 And martyrs once trod ; 
 
 Who joy beyond measure 
 
 In garnering treasure 
 To bring at the end to 
 The Storehouse of God. 
 
 FIFTY YEARS. 
 
 Tis fifty years ! O, far-off day ! 
 
 Since Father, with his troop, 
 From home and kindred turned away, 
 
 A melancholy group, 
 
CALIFORNIA SONGS 
 
 And left his native pine-clad hills, 
 The shady dells and rippling rills 
 
 His losses to recoup 
 In lands beyond the setting sun, 
 Where fortune s quest must be begun. 
 
 War s devastating, withering hand 
 
 Pressed sorely on our brood ; 
 But bravely Father took his stand 
 
 And daily toiled for food ; 
 Most all his land, his herds, and gold 
 He d lost through men as false as bold ; 
 
 And then, in cheerful mood, 
 With honest heart and weary feet, 
 Went on his way in cold and heat. 
 
 And generous fortune kindly shed, 
 
 In later, kindlier years, 
 Her ample favors on his head 
 
 And paid her just arrears 
 In honors, quiet and content, 
 With other blessings sweetly blent; 
 
 And free from doubts and fears 
 He ever in the footsteps trod 
 Of Christ the blessed Son of God. 
 
 And since that melancholy day 
 Of all that household troop 
 
 But five are gone ; eight staidly stray, 
 A broken, severed group ; 
 
 And all have heard the Saviour s call ; 
 
 And evermore his blessings fall 
 On silvered heads that stoop ; 
 
 In joy and mirth, in grief and tears 
 
 Our God has kept us fifty years. 
 
 66 
 
CALIFORNIA SONGS 
 
 FAREWELL ! 
 
 We must bid you farewell, 
 
 O, ye forest and dell, 
 Where in faraway childhood we played! 
 
 We must bid you farewell, 
 
 All ye pathways that tell 
 Where our way-weary footsteps have strayed! 
 
 And the plains of the West, 
 
 Where we ever could rest 
 On their beautiful carpet of green; 
 
 And the rivers that sweep 
 
 Far away to the deep ; 
 We must leave that fair region serene ! 
 
 And this bright land of bloom, 
 
 Orange groves, and perfume, 
 Where the rivers of paradise flow ; 
 
 And a fair country lies 
 
 Under radiant skies, 
 And the opaline tints ever glow ! 
 
 Fare ye well ! Hill and dale, 
 
 Where the mists throw a veil, 
 Like enchantment from mountain to sea! 
 
 Summer land of the West, 
 
 Where the heart finds its rest, 
 And delight and content never flee ! 
 
 And ye friends fair and true 
 
 That in lost years we knew, 
 That were near, O, so near to the heart ; 
 
 Ye whose hands we oft pressed 
 
 In the years we loved best, 
 Soon the moment will come to depart! 
 
CALIFORNIA SONGS 
 
 But we go, O, we go 
 
 Where the flowers ever blow, 
 And the young heart can never grow old! 
 
 Where no tear dims the eye 
 
 As the ages sweep by, 
 And the beauty can never be told ! 
 
 A PRAYER. 
 
 Father ! In meekness and patience we bow, 
 Knowing affliction is best for us now. 
 Infinite Father ! Compassionate Friend ! 
 O, give us strength to endure to the end ! 
 
 OH! WOULD! 
 
 O, would that these perishing bodies of ours 
 
 Could only keep pace with the spirit! 
 For then we would journey mid earth s fairest bowers 
 And breathe the perfume of the rarest of flowers; 
 For earth s filled with music from heaven s high towers, 
 
 If but we had ears that could hear it ! 
 
 A VISION. 
 
 As oft I sit quietly musing 
 
 And dreaming of years that are dead, 
 When visions come up without choosing, 
 That passed with the years as they sped, 
 One sweet vision stays 
 Of long ago days, 
 Ere youth and its rapture were fled. 
 
 68 
 
CALIFORNIA SONGS 
 
 Tis Sunday and Mother is reading 
 
 Her Bible so patiently there, 
 Her faith on its promises feeding, 
 
 There in her old split-bottomed chair ; 
 While we wish to fly 
 Away where the sky 
 Sheds beauty on meadows so fair. 
 
 No matter how worn and how weary, 
 
 How cruel or bitter the strife; 
 No matter how dull and how dreary, 
 Or lonely. and cheerless the life; 
 When hope lit the sky ; 
 When shadows were nigh; 
 Or sore disappointments were rife; 
 
 When wildly the March winds were sweeping 
 
 And driving the clouds through the sky ; 
 Or gently the summer clouds weeping 
 As sweetly the days drifted by ; 
 When winter s wild blast 
 Grew cold as it passed, 
 The vision I cherish drew nigh. 
 
 This sweetly enchanting old vision 
 
 That comes from the vanishing years, 
 Now seems beatific, Elysian, 
 
 Though seen through a vista of tears ; 
 A beacon of light 
 It guides me aright 
 When doubt or temptation appears. 
 
 THE HEN. 
 
 When the fire passed by 
 
 And the raging sky 
 Shed the coals and the embers down, 
 
 On the fire-swept ground 
 
 There the hen was found, 
 Scorched and lifeless, and roasted brown. 
 
 69 
 
CALIFORNIA SONGS 
 
 When they turned her o er 
 
 On the forest floor 
 There her little ones chirped for food; 
 
 In the fiery breath 
 
 She had met her death; 
 She had perished to save her brood. 
 
 Unbelieving men! 
 
 If a farmer s hen 
 Will surrender her life for love; 
 
 For the love of you 
 
 What will Christ not do 
 To secure you with him above ! 
 
 THE END. 
 
 70 
 
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