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THE ROBERT E. COWAN COLLECTION 
 
 I KKSI-.NTKli n> T1IK 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 C. P. HUNTINGTON 
 flee sssion No 6>ff3? Class No. 
 

POEMS: 
 
 EDWARD ISAAC DOBSON. 
 
 PRINTED FOR THE AUTHOR. 
 
 SAN FRANCISCO. 
 
 1874. 
 
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1874, 
 
 BY EDWARD ISAAC DOBSON, 
 In the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 
 
35 
 
 TO 
 MISS MARY C. DOBSON, 
 
 THIS 
 
 POLLECTION is INSCRIBED AS A piFT OF J^OYE, 
 
 BY HER 
 
 AFFECTIONATE BROTHER. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 In presenting this volume to the public, I am well aware 
 that I am daring considerable, especially in expressing so 
 boldly my views on religion. As regards my atheism, I will 
 merely say that I have never read, until recently, the writ 
 ings of any one on the subject: that I have regarded Nature 
 as the one creative power of The Universe, and disbelieved 
 the doctrine of the immortality of the soul ever since I can 
 remember; that, on all such important matters, I form my 
 opinions intuitively; that, if my book is to be condemned 
 because the ideas advanced in one of the poems are at vari 
 ance with those of the majority of the civilized world, then 
 let it be condemned. 
 
 For the benefit of those disappointed ambitionists styling 
 themselves critics, who do not know the difference between 
 honorable criticism and slur, and for the general information 
 of the public, I will state that I was born in Rough and 
 JB, Ready. Of the noble class of reviewers, whose sole object 
 in discovering and pointing out to an author his errors is to 
 enable him to avoid similar mistakes in the future, I beg 
 they will be uninfluenced by any considerations whatever for 
 my youth or place of birth, and that they will trouble them 
 selves to criticize my writings thoroughly. 
 
 That they will find much that is juvenile in the collection 
 is not to be wondered at, since the writer has only seen nine 
 teen years of life. Lastly, to those grand philanthropists, 
 whose noble generosity has enabled me to publish my poems, 
 I return my sincerest thanks. 
 
 EDWARD ISAAC DOBSON. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 THE MISANTHROPE 11 
 
 THE PAST : .22 
 
 A REVERIE 26 
 
 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY 44 
 
 To L. P. H 46 
 
 DREAM OF DEATH 47 
 
 HOPE ON 49 
 
 A RETROSPECT 50 
 
 LINES TO XAIDIE 52 
 
 DEFYING FATE 53 
 
 To L. P. H 54 
 
 To NAIDIE 55 
 
 NOTES AND ERRATA . . 56 
 
POEMS. 
 
POEMS. 
 
 THE MISANTHROPE. 
 
 CANTO I. 
 
 I sing of one, as yet unknown to Fame, 
 But hopes, ere he has run his dreary race, 
 
 To write, on Glory s sacred scroll, a name 
 That will assume in ages hence a place, 
 
 Such as the bards of yore so proudly claim, 
 Which full ten thousand years will not efface, 
 
 In grandeur, looming out the mists of Time, 
 
 Towering, o er dim centuries, sublime ! 
 
 Oh ! Love ! thou inspiration of my song, 
 
 How r many hearts have ached through thee and 
 thine! 
 
 Thou sole original of Right and Wrong, 
 That forceth such as I to sigh and pine 
 
 For thee, because our natures are not strong, 
 Help me relate this deep remorse of mine, 
 
 To quell the hopeless hopes within this verse, 
 
 And in Forgetfulness my thoughts immerse! 
 
12 THE MISANTHROPE. 
 
 Have I not worshiped at thy shrine for years, 
 All-knowing that twas better far to die, 
 
 Than live the child of grief and tortured fears, 
 That dared express themselves but in a sigh, 
 
 Because the heart of her, who thus endears, 
 Is all that Truth and Innocence imply, 
 
 And will not link its destiny with mine, 
 
 That Purity with Vice may not combine ? . 
 
 Have I not reverenced her very name, 
 Regarded her as far too pure for life ? 
 
 Have I not risked my happiness for Fame, 
 
 Nor groaned neath ills with disappointments rife, 
 
 But to attain an all-undying name, 
 
 In hopes with her to battle in the strife, 
 
 Rewarding thus, her virtues, with renown, 
 
 That coming centuries would carry down ? 
 
 Have I not done all this, and shall it fail ? 
 
 Should I succeed with energy of mind, 
 In forcing all mine enemies to quail 
 
 Before my strength, and climb above my kind, 
 After long years, all withered, worn, and pale 
 
 With suffering and toil, then will I find, 
 That all my labor has been spent for naught, 
 All lives, with sorrow such as mine, are fraught ? 
 
 A youth, yet not like others of his age, 
 
 Upwards, from his boyhood, he stood alone; 
 
THE MISANTHROPE. 13 
 
 Possessing all-enduring strength to wage 
 A war with all the World, he did not groan 
 
 When Envy s hosts combined to make him rage; 
 All-breathless watched, and hoped to hear him 
 moan 
 
 Beneath the disappointments piled around 
 
 His heart was pierced, he uttered not a sound! 
 
 His was a nature that could meet old Fate 
 Undaunted, fearing not the ills in store, 
 
 Though far within his soul would penetrate 
 The dark, self-torturing remorse he ever bore, 
 
 Which dreary years of pain could not abate, 
 Eating deep in his bosom to the core, 
 
 And making Thought itself a furied Hell, 
 
 That Time nor even Circumstance could quell 1 
 
 Of all the griefs, remorse of love is worst: 
 His was affection seldom known, which years 
 
 Of constancy and hope had cruelly nursed; 
 Now led to trust, now overborne with fears, 
 
 He thus was doomed to be e en doubly cursed, 
 For Earthly Love, by Doubt diverged, naught 
 rears, 
 
 But vain regrets for what was wont to be, 
 
 Ere storms arose to rough its shoreless sea 1 
 
 Knowing the World, he hated it, with all 
 Its ostentatious virtue, hiding sin, 
 
14 THE MISANTHROPE. 
 
 Degraded soulless worms content to crawl, 
 
 That false society might let them in 
 To share the pleasures of her banquet hall, 
 
 Amidst alluring vice, a name to win, 
 Each smirking hypocrite, to kindly greet, 
 And neath his smile, see lurking his deceit! 
 
 The high morality that used to sway 
 
 Mankind, ere money saved men s necks, is dead, 
 And Justice wearied, falling to decay, 
 
 While Mockery arises in her stead, 
 Looks back along the age of yesterday, 
 
 When forth to battle she her cohorts led, 
 Uplifting from the Earth sweet Freedom s pall, 
 Regretful sighs, that there she did not fall ! 
 
 To-day beholds a man, among the first 
 To lead along the age, with truths oft-told, 
 
 But given weight by him, appear accursed : 
 
 Each hour, some new-found crime doth now un 
 fold, 
 
 And though he, in the blackest, is immersed, 
 His fawning crew still stubbornly uphold 
 
 Him spotless, as an angel to the World 
 
 Far better men to Hades have been hurled ! 
 
 He crushed his friends to cloak deceit, and hid, 
 Beneath an outward holiness, his crime, 
 
THE MISANTHROPE. 15 
 
 The one, of all commandments, most forbid, 
 Of human love, most sacredly sublime, 
 
 In breaking which, his life was all undid, 
 
 A life of fame that reached from clime to clime, 
 
 Wherever Glory s banner floats the breeze, 
 
 From Afric s wilds to Arctic s dreary seas ! 
 
 Of all unseemly things, the hypocrite 
 
 Is dreaded, shunned, and most despised in life, 
 
 His soul so black that none can fathom it, 
 With petty meannesses and hate so rife, 
 
 Those like himself consider him unfit 
 
 Companionship, when battling in the strife. 
 
 As dogs fight o er possession of a bone, 
 
 So they prefer to smirk and crawl alone ! 
 
 Now is the age when Malice reigns as King, 
 
 When men are warned to check desire for Fame. 
 
 When bards are kindly cautioned not to sing, 
 To quell a useless longing for a name, 
 
 Which only years of toil and labor bring, 
 That on posterity they have no claim ; - 
 
 Yet still there be possessing strength and will, 
 
 Who dare to climb by aid of pen or quill ! 
 
 And I myself am one of them I ll write 
 
 Whate er best pleases me, let .read who may, 
 Hypocrisy and priests alike I ll fight, 
 
I 6 THE MISANTHROPE. 
 
 Prepare ye then for blood in this affray; 
 Two thousand stars and more, all blazing light, 
 
 Will scarcely show the terrible array 
 Of crimes Religion has well cloaked for years, 
 To hide her bastard priests and their compeers! 
 
 Look back to when old Rome ruled all the world, 
 When free from cunning priest and subtle pope ; 
 
 See Freedom s banner o er the Earth unfurled, 
 Ere with Religion she was forced to cope, 
 
 When round the Globe, on winds of Peace were 
 
 whirled 
 Sweet Liberty to all, and endless Hope ; 
 
 Behold ye now, the ruin they have made, 
 
 And marvel not that I have thus assayed 
 
 To give expression to the thoughts that swell 
 Within my soul, when thinking of the Past, 
 
 The outraged thoughts which naught save Death 
 
 can quell, 
 That even he shall spirit from me last, 
 
 All winding through my mind like some strange 
 
 spell, 
 From out a heart with secret grief o ercast, 
 
 To curse the dogs that whine where Caesar fell, 
 
 Where Romans lived, presuming there to dwell ! 
 
 Entwining round those ruins grand, a Hell 
 Of Superstition, Ignorance and Crime, 
 
THE MISANTHROPE. 17 
 
 That they may yet, through means most damned, 
 compel 
 
 The World to wallow in their filthy slime ! 
 But hark ! the Future tolls the Clergy s knell ; 
 
 From out the mists old Reason looms sublime, 
 The truth descending is, from age to age, 
 Who worships Nature, he is Nature s sage ! 
 
 Oh ! Nature ! thou materialist supreme, 
 
 Thou sole creator of the Universe, 
 In whom we live and breathe as in a dream, 
 
 Could I in thy most secret springs immerse 
 My thoughts, untamed and wild as they may seem, 
 
 To drown from out my mind its darksome curse, 
 Then would I feel my heart throw off its grief, 
 That for my late remorse there is relief ! 
 
 I have communed with thee when none were near 
 Have heard thy voice from mount to mount deep 
 roll, 
 
 In thunder tones, that shook each starry sphere, 
 Forth-drawing inspirations from my soul, 
 
 Which made thy sacred presence doubly dear ; 
 Of all existence, thou hast full control ; 
 
 Ten thousand voices lift to thee with mine, 
 
 Proclaiming thee the only God divine ! 
 
I 8 THE MISANTHROPE. 
 
 CANTO II. 
 
 There is no medium in this, our Life ; 
 
 We either vault to all-enduring Fame, 
 Which springs from that ennobling higher strife, 
 
 We only meet when battling for a name, 
 Or sink beneath the obloquy, so rife 
 
 Within the lower walks of Crime and Shame, 
 Where men are lauded for promoting sin, 
 And by their darksome deeds stained laurels win ! 
 
 Existence, at the most, is but a Hell, 
 
 Wherein are tortured those who dare to seek, 
 
 By sheerest force of intellect, to dwell 
 
 In realms which men attain by Fortune s freak : 
 
 A few are gifted, so they oft compel 
 
 The world to bow to them, outwardly meek, 
 
 In low obsequiousness, most uncouth, 
 
 Deceiving none, save some all-trusting youth ! 
 
 O er Montezuma s fate I sadly weep ; 
 
 The vain and bitter tears fall thick and fast ; 
 Though dead, in Memory he does not sleep ; 
 
 Of his great race, the mightiest, the last 
 To fall from off Misfortune s darksome steep, 
 
 Bequeathing, with the heroes of the Past, 
 To countless generations hence, a name, 
 To beautify the sacred scroll of Fame ! 
 
THE MISANTHROPE. 1*9 
 
 Oh ! Time ! thou Nemesis of ages thou 
 Hast well revenged old Spain s forgotten crime; 
 
 Behold ! the wreck of Glory she is now, 
 
 Whose commerce once reached forth to every 
 clime, 
 
 Before thy vengeance humby doth she bow, 
 Destroyer of those monuments sublime, 
 
 Which centuries presumed not to deface, 
 
 Majestic, vaunting deeds of his lost race ! 
 
 Diverging now, my hero once again appears ; 
 
 Though unbewearied by the shocks of Fate, 
 He still is bound and bigoted to fears ; 
 
 Alluring Pleasure e en cannot abate 
 An age of Hell, concentred in three years, 
 
 Which hopes unrealized alone create, 
 O erburdening the heart with that dull grief, 
 That in excitement only finds relief ! 
 
 Untaught to know he had to cleave and break 
 His way through Life by aid of those he cursed, 
 
 Within forbidden springs, he sought to s lake, 
 All-uncontrolled, his wild, unceasing thirst, 
 
 And out of compounds dangerous, to make 
 
 A fame, which o er the Earth would lurid burst, 
 
 Nor cease to gleam, till Time should pass away, 
 
 A star by night, a flaming orb by day ! 
 
2O THE MISANTHROPE. 
 
 His high ambition nothing seemed to check ; 
 
 He aimed to vault beyond all human will, 
 Appearing in the mists of Fame, a speck 
 
 Of mountain far above the ridge of hill 
 Below, and like some worn old ocean wreck, 
 
 To stand or fall alone, yet falling still, 
 To make that fall so felt, and even feared, 
 That to the World he would remain endeared ! 
 
 He deemed himself possessed of strength to cope 
 With Degradation s horde in endless strife, 
 
 Led on to hope, beyond the verge of Hope, 
 To seek, within neglected ways of Life, 
 
 A knowledge, far beyond the common scope 
 
 Of knowledge, whose o erlooked by-paths are rife 
 
 With undiscovered gems of truths untold, 
 
 That Science to our view will yet unfold ! 
 
 Oh ! thou Albunea I* that I might sleep, 
 Enwrap t in thy seclusion sweet, to-night, 
 
 To watch yon mirrored Moon roll o er the deep, 
 Behind him leaving pale, grey streaks of light, 
 
 Through which the dark blue waves majestic sweep, 
 Across the torn old Globe, an endless flight, 
 
 Now dashing high, where Thought scarce dares to 
 soar, 
 
 On Baring s Isle, or Del Fuego s shore; 
 
 * Albunea is a wood near Rome, sacred to the Muses. 
 
THE MISANTHROPE. 21 
 
 Now breaking hoarse and rough along the verge 
 Of old Alaska s dreary wilds, unknown ; 
 
 Now round the World, all-uncontrolled, they surge, 
 Engarlanding, with laurels, Nature s throne, 
 
 Until in one unfathomed sea they merge, 
 
 Far-reaching, measureless, from zone to zone, 
 
 To roll triumphant, though all else decay, 
 
 Not of the stuff that animates our clay ! 
 
 I am no hypocrite no infidel : 
 
 I think old Nature is the fountain head 
 
 Of all the Universe, the God as well, 
 
 That when the body dies, the soul is dead ; 
 
 That man s remorseful thoughts are his one Hell ; 
 For dreamless, endless sleep I have no dread, 
 
 That far along the verge of Time I see 
 
 New Worlds arise, when this has ceased to be ! 
 
 I love my God with all my life and soul ; 
 
 I see his image mirrored -on the lake, 
 In mountain waves that o er old Ocean roll, 
 
 The broad expanse of shore whereon they break ; 
 Of yon round flaming Sun, he is the goal ; 
 
 Alone with him all evil thoughts forsake 
 For back I gaze across the wilds of Time, 
 Beholding him -grand, fathomless, sublime ! 
 
 OF THE ^ 
 
 CTNIVERSITY } 
 
22 THE PAST. 
 
 THE PAST. 
 
 Looming up out some long forgotten age, 
 Through History s mystical oft -turned page, 
 Twinkling adown unmeasured worlds of Time, 
 Bedimmed, almost obscured, yet still sublime, 
 Grand relics of the Past, whose pleasant sway 
 Shall charm new lives, when this is in decay; 
 Where Greece, Rome, Carthage each, with haughty 
 
 pride, 
 
 The nations of the World in turn defied; 
 Where Genius forth from out great Nature sprung* 
 And in the soul of Homer wrote and sung 
 Then all, indeed, was Happiness supreme, 
 And Misery an uncreated dream! 
 
 Thou grand, majestic Past Earth s endless day! 
 Adown dark Life s as yet unfathomed way, 
 Till Nature dies, and Thought itself be gone, 
 O er new-created worlds the sacred dawn 
 Of thy Sun, through the murky clouds of Time 
 Shall beam uninterruptedly sublime! 
 
 Thou classic Past ! where mighty Virgil stood, 
 
 And out Albunea s secluded wood, 
 
 The Eagle-^Enead snatched forth to light, 
 
THE PAST. 23 
 
 To wend o er ages dim eternal flight, 
 
 Where from the Forum noblest thoughts were hurled, 
 
 To shape the grand advancement of the World, 
 
 Tis thine to guide the Future of the Earth, 
 
 In thee all knowledge first received its birth ! 
 
 There be who live the victims of Despair, 
 
 Nor watch Time s mighty waters, as they bear 
 
 The drifting wrecks of centuries away 
 
 To thy lone shores, to moulder and decay! 
 
 If this be all which we have toiled and sought 
 
 To pass from Life like some unspoken thought 
 
 Back to Oblivion from whence we came, 
 
 Unhonored and unheard, unknown to Fame 
 
 Then haste along, dear Time, to Life s dark verge, 
 
 And there, in Nothingness, let me immerge! 
 
 From Arctic isles unknown in ice encased, 
 To Africa s most dreary desert waste, 
 Far-reaching through the shades of endless night, 
 Across unfathomed realms of Space and Light; 
 Yes, on and on, till Thought is lost in scope, 
 Where er runs Fancy, or inspiring Hope, 
 Illumining, with her reflecting glare, 
 The cavern dark and measureless Despair; 
 O er all, the Past shall hold eternal sway, 
 As darkest nights precede a brighter day ! 
 
24 THE PAST. 
 
 I gaze across dim Life s bedarkened sea, 
 
 To where it merges in the great to be, 
 
 And even there, as Fancy s way doth trend, 
 
 Wondrous old Past, I see thee still a friend! 
 
 To bid farewell to some bewearied soul, 
 
 On Time s torn waves thy Pleasures upward roll, 
 
 And as he sinks within the dark abyss, 
 
 Thy lips alone receive his parting kiss ! 
 
 Endearing scenes forever now behind him left, 
 
 Of all on Earth, save thee, he is bereft ! 
 
 For thee, those wild, unearthly shrieks unpour 
 
 Above the surging sea s triumphant roar, 
 
 From rock to rock resounding loud and long, 
 
 While round the buried deeds of years enthrong! 
 
 And yet, perchance there be, who never look 
 
 O er thy unwritten, awe-inspiring book, 
 
 By ages paged, and ruins grand, sublime, 
 
 The monuments along the life of Time ! 
 
 The World with changes great may be o ercast, 
 Yet we will have the grand and solemn Past! 
 Its Athens, Rome, its Tiber and the rest, 
 By centuries agone made doubly blest ! 
 Across the broad expanseless wastes of Time, 
 Entwined around two thousand years sublime 
 From worlds unknown, and planets yet unsought, 
 
THE PAST. 25 
 
 Beyond the realms of Science or of Thought, 
 Where Sadness fades, as mist across the sun, 
 Where deviating Love has never run, 
 The Past looms up in all its grand decay, 
 To point the path o er Life s beclouded way ! 
 
26 A REVERIE. 
 
 A REVERIE. 
 
 TO L. P. H. 
 I. 
 
 Dim thoughts that now arise, and sweep 
 From caverns, measureless in mind, 
 That outward leap to join their kind, 
 
 To wake the Past from Sorrow s sleep; 
 
 Whereout sad memories emerge, 
 
 And pleasant scenes that now are gone, 
 And all that tells the brightest dawn 
 
 Of Life s dim sun is at the verge 
 
 Old Times ! when I was wont to look 
 With earnest gaze adown the way 
 Of Pleasures yet to be, and grey 
 
 Mists that o erhung the fields and brook, 
 
 That by the town its noisy race 
 
 Did run, and round, about, and in, 
 And out, and passed the village din, 
 
 Toward the sea, its resting place 
 
A REVERIE. 27 
 
 Once more return ! and let me know 
 Your cheerfulness to-night again, 
 The quiet wood, the sunken glen, 
 
 The Happiness of all below ! 
 
 When my young heart with glee ran wild, 
 And beautiful seemed all the Earth ; 
 No sorrows then to cloud my mirth, 
 
 And all in Life upon me smiled ! 
 
 But why so changed ? I cannot tell, 
 Unless it be because tis just, 
 That those who love, and cannot trust 
 
 Their love, are doomed a living Hell I 
 
 To restless wait till Death appears, 
 
 The pent-up mis ry to unwind, 
 
 Eternal rest unto the mind, 
 The long-hoped happiness of years ! 
 
 ii. 
 
 From world to world and sea to sea, 
 Along the horizon of Fame 
 I gaze, and hopeless, strive to aim 
 
 For what ne er was, nor ne er will be ! 
 
 And summers pass, and winters glide 
 Unnoticed, to the long ago ; 
 
28 A REVERIE. 
 
 Great worlds are carried with the flow, 
 And nations float adown the tide. 
 
 Tis better far to be content 
 
 In country home, and till the earth, 
 Than strive to leap to Fame and Worth ; 
 
 For life is lost when thus tis spent ! 
 
 If thine it be the goal to miss, 
 Thy noble aims avail thee not, 
 An animated Hell s thy lot, 
 
 And dreamless sleep thine only bliss ! 
 
 in. 
 
 To-night, from out a darkened sky, 
 A something thrills my very soul, 
 And through each cell doth onward roll, 
 
 To pass to nothingness a sigh ! 
 
 Black clouds above float to and fro ; 
 
 The wind blows cold across the lea ; 
 
 The ships are tossed about the sea, 
 And once again my sorrows flow ! 
 
 Bereft of all that I most need, 
 I wander down toward the tomb, 
 And vainly ask, from out the gloom, 
 
 What kind of life is this I lead ? 
 
A REVERIE. 
 
 And will I never reach the goal ? 
 
 And winds shriek by, and laugh to think 
 That I know not ; beyond the brink 
 
 Of Life, alone will rest the soul ! 
 
 IV. 
 
 The dear old house ! I see it still, 
 The willows drooping at the door, 
 All withered now, and grey and hoar 
 
 The brook that babbled by the mill 
 
 The woods where I was wont to play, 
 Or sit and hear, from out the breeze, 
 The low, sad moanings of the trees, 
 
 As if a friend had passed away 
 
 Or watch the moonbeams on the lake, 
 And from the shore the wavelets chase, 
 Around about, from place to place, 
 
 Until some mountain wave did break 
 
 Upon, and hide them from the sight, 
 Or wash them back upon the land, 
 Where negligently old, and grand 
 
 In solemnness, and bleak and white, 
 
 Decayed, tall trees arise and reach 
 Toward the skies, and sullen stare, 
 
3O A REVERIE. 
 
 Across the mount, snow-capt and bare, 
 For miles along the pebbled beach ! 
 
 Old scenes, now lost to me, adieu! 
 
 So long as Thought s dim light doth bum, 
 So long my heart shall constant yearn 
 
 To keep thee ever in my view ! 
 
 No climes thy beauties can replace, 
 
 New friends may come, new scenes ma} 
 
 dawn, 
 Remembrances of pleasures gone, 
 
 Nothing, save Death, can e er efface ! 
 
 v. 
 
 Roll on, dear Time! and leave me here, 
 
 Alone to wander o er the Past, 
 
 Its ruins measureless, and vast 
 Deserted centuries, though sear 
 
 And blurred by mists of ages gone, 
 Though all decayed, yet doubly dear, 
 But faded out, to reappear 
 
 Improved by flight, and grandly dawn 
 
 O er unknown lives that are to be, 
 And worlds that roll as lurid light, 
 And planets of eternal night, 
 
 From shore to shore and sea to sea ! 
 
A REVERIE. 31 
 
 Old Past, aback of that of mine, 
 So solemn, wonderful, sublime, 
 The grand, inspiring work of Time, 
 
 I love to worship at thy shrine ! 
 
 VI. 
 
 Dark Morn! that wakes me from sweet sleep. 
 And pleasant dreams of what will be, 
 Across great Time s unfathomed sea, 
 
 When on that unknown shore I leap, 
 
 And gain the rest for which I pine, 
 Eternal sleep through night and day, 
 And to myself I turn and say, 
 
 What happiness would then be mine ! 
 
 But once again I see the dawn, 
 And feel once more the thudding pain, 
 I seek to still, and seek in vain, 
 
 Until this life is passed and gone ! 
 
 Across unmeasured seas of thought, 
 Is slowly wafted into sight, 
 Forgotten Sorrow s darkest night, 
 
 To make me wish that I were not! 
 
 VII. 
 
 The man s a fool, who thinks to find 
 Relief in cursing Fate and Fame. 
 
32 A REVERIE. 
 
 Because he s missed a life-long aim, 
 And bears a Hell within his mind! 
 
 Whoever hopes to climb above 
 
 The envy, hate, and grief of Earth, 
 For honor and for better worth, 
 
 Must learn the Sacredness of Love ! 
 
 Tis this incentive makes men great, 
 
 That leads them on from height to height, 
 That guides young Genius in his flight, 
 
 And shapes the destinies of State ! 
 
 A Love revered inspires an aim 
 For higher things within the soul, 
 And becks us on toward a goal, 
 
 To tread the secret walks of Fame ! 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Cold, dreary Day ! what hast thou brought ? 
 Didst come to tell of some new grief, 
 Lest I might dare to find relief 
 
 From useless hopes for what is naught ? 
 
 Or is it to ope up anew 
 
 The blighted aims of years, agone 
 That all my life had centred on, 
 
 And hold them nearer to the view ? 
 
A REVERIE. 33 
 
 Oh ! tell me not, deceitful one, 
 That she again, my love, will trust, 
 That when we leave this tortured dust, 
 
 Another Life will be begun ! 
 
 Is t not enough to live a Hell, 
 
 That some will dream of future woe ; 
 If true or not, we do not know, 
 
 For none return to ever tell I 
 
 IX. 
 
 Sometimes I think I yet shall find 
 A calm for all my storms of pain ; 
 And otherwhere shall yet attain 
 
 A rest for weariness of mind ! 
 
 And on I go from day to day; 
 
 From month to month and year to year ; 
 
 And all about is dark and drear, 
 Since all my hopes have flown away ! 
 
 It seems but such a little while, 
 
 Since all my life was wrapt in bliss ; 
 A child that Fortune stooped to kiss, 
 
 And Pleasure on my way did smile ; 
 
 That now I sadly gaze about, 
 
 And yearning, strive in vain to see 
 3 
 
34 A REVERIE. 
 
 My path as it was wont to be, 
 Ere I was doomed to nurture Doubt ! 
 
 x. 
 
 The moanings low of distant seas, 
 That saddened splash along the shore 
 Against great rocks, all grey and hoar, 
 
 The sighing winds within the trees 
 
 Old Ocean s mountain waves sublime, 
 That chase each other o er the deep, 
 And round the World in grandeur sweep, 
 
 Alike, defying Death and Time 
 
 The thunder shocks from out the gloom 
 Of raging storms that tortured groan 
 Across the Globe from zone to zone 
 
 The hidden secrets of the tomb 
 
 The dreary wastes, and deserts vast, 
 That robe old Africa in white, 
 The movements of the stars at night, 
 
 The solemn wonders of the Past 
 
 The grey, bleak cliffs and crags that lift 
 From out the sea, and sullen loom 
 Along the shore athrough the gloom, 
 
 Until the clouds from off them shift 
 
A REVERIE. 35 
 
 The planets yet unknown above, 
 
 The brook that wends through wood and field, 
 The years to come what food ye yield 
 
 For Meditation and for Love ! 
 
 
 
 XI. 
 
 There are beings upon this Earth, 
 
 Though young in years, feel old as Life 
 Pre-cursed and doomed to Pain and Strife 
 
 The moment they receive their birth, 
 
 Their s is but one long, dreary age 
 
 Of Disappointment fraught with Grief, 
 For which they only find relief, 
 
 When Death, their sorrow doth assuage ! 
 
 The victims of impatience, they 
 
 Ride tempest-tossed across the waves ; 
 Unsatisfied, they reach their graves, 
 
 Ambition s worn and wearied prey ! 
 
 Existence unto them is Hell ; 
 
 From youth, by all-enduring Hope, 
 To grasp beyond the fitting scope 
 
 Of Hope, misled to strive to dwell 
 
 Where mortal never yet hath dwelt ; 
 Thev aim for Peace and miss their aim ; 
 
36 A REVERIE. 
 
 Their goal, perchance, is Worth and Fame ; 
 The two, the ice which Time will melt ! 
 
 Precocity describes them not ; 
 
 From Sorrow, knowledge they attain ; 
 
 Their Life, one constant war with Pain, 
 And dark, unceasing, hidden Thought ! 
 
 XII. 
 
 To tread Sahara s wastes to know, 
 That those white waves o.f dreary sand 
 Are all that s left to mark the grand, 
 
 Majestic sea that there did flow, 
 
 From Siwah s Weakened wilds, and old, 
 To broad Atlantic s heaving surge, 
 And back again along the verge 
 
 Of Egypt, where great Nile has rolled 
 
 Since Time began his wondrous race, 
 
 And by the ruins silent, vast, 
 
 Inspiring relics of the Past 
 That rise from out each storied place ! 
 
 The Pyramids great piles of stone 
 That welcome each grey morning s dawn, 
 The same as in dim ages gone, 
 
 Are sometimes heard to creak and groan 
 
A REVERIE. 37 
 
 Beneath the wrongs heaped on their race, 
 To hear extolled in modern rhymes, 
 Young nations, known but for dark crimes 
 
 A thousand years can ne er efface ! 
 
 The Sphinxes grand, that upward loom 
 Without the mists, and sullen, stare 
 O er Libya s wilds, untrod and bare, 
 
 Toward some by-gone monarch s tomb, 
 
 If they but would, could all relate 
 
 A hidden history they hold, 
 
 And long, dark mystery unfold, 
 The rise and fall of many a state 1 
 
 Old Past ! will ye not speak to him 
 Who strives in vain to penetrate 
 The secret aims of Time and Fate, 
 
 And ope your stores so vast and dim ? 
 
 Dark Winter ! with thy months of gloom, 
 I hoped my soul would take its flight 
 Ere I should see thy dreary night 
 
 Again, and otherwhere might bloom ! 
 
 To gaze upon the snow and sleet ; 
 To watch the clouds float far abov 
 
 OF THB 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
38 A REVERIE. 
 
 And feel that now my hopeless love 
 Is bleaker than the long, white street, 
 
 Is all that thou hast heart to bring, 
 For fear, mayhap, I might forget 
 That I and Sorrow e er had met, 
 
 Or e er known Doubt and felt its sting ! 
 
 But Spring, perchance, will be more bright 
 Than it has been for many years ; 
 And this sad heart, now crushed with fears, 
 
 May once again with Joy be light ! 
 
 Ah ! then, to look back o er the Past, 
 The deserts vast of Sadness there, 
 The heaving seas of black Despair, 
 
 To hear ; " Forgiven," said at last ! 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Tell me ! O soul ! so still and calm, 
 Is there a hope to clasp my friend ; 
 Will heart with heart as one e er blend 
 
 Tell me ! I say ! is there a balm 
 
 For Doubt in Love ? And comes reply ; 
 " Tis better far with Hell to wed, 
 Than love where trust has been misled 
 
 To live, is harder than to die ! 
 
A REVERIE. 39 
 
 When Nature fades, and Time runs out 
 Its dim, mysterious race, 
 Its great immensity of space, 
 
 Love only then will ne er know Doubt J" 
 
 t 
 
 xv. 
 
 The day is come, so dear to all 
 The grand old Independence Day, 
 Whereon Oppression lost her sway, 
 
 And Nature joyed to see the fall ! 
 
 From mount to mount, and shore to shore, 
 O er many a broad, expanseless plain, 
 Sweet Liberty hath claimed domain, 
 
 And Tyranny s crushed to rise no more ! 
 
 Along the streets are flags unfurled, 
 Emblems for which our fathers died, 
 The banners of a Nation s pride, 
 
 Heralds of Freedom to the World ! 
 
 The soldiers march with measured tread, 
 And proud that they may thus revere 
 The grandest day of all the year ; 
 
 And praises give to honored dead 
 
 Of Valley Forge, and Bunker Hill, 
 
 Who fought and bled, their rights to save ; 
 
4O A REVERIE. 
 
 And Freedom sought within the giave, 
 But left behind a record, still, 
 
 Adown long ages hence its way 
 To wend, and brighten in its flight, 
 Until it gleams a sacred light 
 
 To burn, though nations all decay ! 
 
 Methinks the time is yet to be, 
 
 When Liberty shall reign supreme, 
 The Goddess of whom poets dream, 
 
 From marge to marge and sea to sea 1 
 
 When War s red banner will be furled, 
 When Misery shall be unknown * 
 From clime to clime and zone to zone, 
 
 Freedom shall rule o er all the World! 
 
 Ye Winds ! that waft across the sea, 
 O er hidden isles, the love of yore 
 To me and this wild, dreary shore, 
 
 Known only to the storms and thee, 
 
 Have ye no mercy, that ye must 
 
 Wreck on these rocks of dark Despair, 
 The sweet young life that ye now bear, 
 
 The pure love, the broken trust ? 
 
A REVEKIE. 41 
 
 Must she be forced to suffer too, 
 
 For that which I alone have wrought ; 
 Must her light heart with Pain be fraught 
 
 Because my love has proved untrue ? 
 
 Let Grief prevail and do her worst ; 
 
 Let Pleasures all be swept away ; 
 
 Let hope on hope sink in decay, 
 And e en my life be doubly cursed, 
 
 But leave to her the better love 
 
 That s in thy power to bestow ; 
 
 The Peace and Joy of all below, 
 The Innocence of all above ! 
 
 Oh ! that twas left with me to say 
 That all my grief is near the end ; 
 That I again might call thee friend, 
 
 And all the Past were in decay 
 
 To hear: "Forgiven !" softly flow 
 From thy sweet lips athrough my soul, 
 And feel that I had reached a goal 
 
 More dear than Fame s seductive show ! 
 
 Alas ! my fancy s rudely crossed 
 By Retrospect so cold and bleak, 
 
42 A REVERIE. 
 
 Once more I m doomed in vain to seek 
 My way through love by doubting lost ! 
 
 And Pleasure fades as I draw near, 
 As if in sympathy with thee ; 
 And all about is dark to me, 
 
 Since that is lost which made life dear ! 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 Yet half I think there yeT will be, 
 When o er my life thou lt sadly gaze 
 On all the long and dreary days 
 
 That I have spent in thoughts of thee ! 
 
 And wilt thou then believe, once more, 
 That wavered love is constant still, 
 Thy vassal, or whate er you will, 
 
 E en all in all it was before ? 
 
 Look through my soul and find it there, 
 The sickened calm of calm despair, 
 The sultriness of summer air, 
 
 A heart bewearied with its care, 
 
 And then say whether love doth live, 
 That even Time has failed to check ; 
 A Life that floats an aimless wreck, 
 
 To only hear : " I do forgive ! 
 
A REVERIE. 43 
 
 For this, old Fame, I ve daring sought 
 To stem the tide of yearnings vain 
 That roll across dark realms of Pain, 
 
 From out black, surging seas of Thought ! 
 
 Yet others, greater, have let burst 
 Across the arid wilds of Time 
 Their seas of ^letaphor sublime, 
 
 To drown from out a mind accurst 
 
 The thoughts in rusty chains encased ; 
 Then why need I again review 
 The painful tale in words anew, 
 
 The Misery of Love misplaced 1 
 
44 AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 THE AGE OF CHIVALRY. 
 
 The sun has sunk beneath the distant West, 
 The warbling birds to woodlands wend their flight, 
 And there, enwrapt in solitude and night, 
 
 Within the hidden foliage find rest ! 
 
 The moonbeams dance along the mouldy wall 
 Of what was once an edifice sublime: 
 Decayed guide-post to mark the way of Time, 
 
 The mighty rise of nations and their fall ! 
 
 Undusted and unswept the library stands, 
 With countless volumes of be-mildewed lore, 
 
 Unread by human eyes, nor touched by hands 
 Of man for half a century and more ! 
 
 Long galleries, whose portraits faded, old, 
 Of knights and ladies, from the Norman down. 
 
 Gaze out their frames across the darkened wold, 
 And in bewilderment upon it frown; 
 
 The garden, now unused, with weeds o ergrown, 
 Where once the foliage breathed sweet perfume 
 
 To all around, by ages long o erthrown 
 As monuments mark heroes in the tomb, 
 
AGE OF CHIVALRY. 45 
 
 To sadly tell of faded glories gone, 
 In drear and distant centuries of old, 
 
 When Chivalry o er all the world did dawn, 
 And through the mists of Fame triumphant rolled ! 
 
 The babbling brook that wends toward the sea, 
 Upon whose banks there stood some knight of old, 
 And to his love his secret did unfold, 
 
 Beneath the shade of some old oaken tree 
 
 Yet not till honor, and renown, and fame, 
 On countless battle-fields, hard-fought, were won, 
 
 Did he presume the right to have a claim 
 For this some deed of glory must be done ! 
 
 Old, wond rous towers, fallen to decay, 
 The haunts of screeching owls, that through the night 
 
 From off the turrets hoot, and as the day 
 Breaks in upon them vanish from the sight; 
 
 Great, dreary seas of ages, surging o er 
 The bare, black cliffs along the verge of Time, 
 To form into mountainous isles sublime, 
 
 From century sands that drift from off the shore, 
 
 Have too plainly entwined on all around 
 Long years, all ivy-grown in grand decay, - 
 
 And now they loom in sacredness profound, 
 To tell of Chivalry and its lost sway! 
 
46 TO L. P. H. 
 
 TO L. P. H. 
 
 With thine initials o er my verse, 
 I purify from sin this page 
 In thoughts of thee, and half assuage 
 
 The deep self-torture of my curse ! 
 
 When down dark Life s unmeasured way, 
 Thou trendest on toward the goal, 
 May purest pleasures upward roll, 
 
 And to the end thy griefs allay ! 
 
 May thy sweet soul be Virtue s shrine, 
 Through distant years that are to be, 
 May Earth be Heaven unto thee, 
 
 And both their joys for thee combine ! 
 
 May Fate for thee no ills unpour, 
 That life may be an endless bliss, 
 Unto the verge of that abyss 
 
 Where earthly griefs are known no more ! 
 
DREAM OF DEATH. 
 
 DREAM OF DEATH. 
 
 I sit to-night alone in my room, 
 
 And strange, wild thoughts around me pour; 
 I think I hear a voice from the tomb 
 
 A voice from the caves of that dark shore 
 
 From mysterious worlds of dread, 
 From out the land of darkest doom, 
 
 From unknown realms of ghastly dead, 
 Out of their shadows dim and gloom, 
 
 They shriek and yell with wild delight 
 The phantoms of that restless sleep; 
 
 They tell me of the endless night, 
 Upon the shores of an icy deep. 
 
 Of nights that are starless there; 
 
 No Sun lights the day, dark and drear 
 Wierd, ghastly demons haunt the air; 
 
 The leaves on the trees are withered, sear ! 
 
 >_ 
 
 Of a black and waveless stream, 
 
 Whose waters are cold and deep, 
 Of the land of wildest dream, 
 
 In an unawakening sleep! 
 
48 . DREAM OF DEATH. 
 
 Great terrors creep o er my soul, 
 
 Thinking of waters so black and still, 
 
 That through those realms so silent roll, 
 For all are subject to their will. 
 
 Not one escapes their merciless rule 
 All must sleep that horrible sleep, 
 
 In icy waters cold and cruel, 
 
 In realms of that bedarkened deep! 
 
 Demoniacal realms of the dead, 
 The waters* 1 of that ghastly stream ! 
 
 Ghoul-haunted regions of dread, 
 
 The land of wild and darkest dream ! 
 
 In mysterious worlds of dread, 
 Unfathomable land of doom, 
 
 Unmeasured realms of ghastly dead, 
 Through ages mystical of gloom ! 
 
HOPE ON. 49 
 
 HOPE ON! 
 
 Though fraught thy soul, 
 With secret Sorrow s dearth, 
 
 Hope on ! there is a goal 
 Attain immortal worth ! 
 
 Though Life be drear, 
 And grief on grief falls fast, 
 
 Hope on ! and do not fear, 
 All find a rest at last ! 
 
 Each has his care; 
 And though it storms to-night, 
 
 Hope on ! do not despair, 
 To-morrow may be bright! 
 
 Hope on ! Hope on ! 
 No matter what betide, 
 
 A brighter day will dawn 
 Upon the other side! 
 
5O A RETROSPECT. 
 
 A RETROSPECT. 
 
 Oft, on Memory s winds, the brightest night 
 
 Of Life is pleasantly borne into sight, 
 
 When through the grove, or on the village green, 
 
 We walked, and happiness o er all serene; 
 
 Or by some rippling brook we sat, and dreamed 
 
 Life s dim and distant Future what it seemed, 
 
 When first we met, and all around was bliss 
 
 But now, across the measureless abyss 
 
 Of Time I gaze, and vainly seek the source 
 
 Whence Love diverged her wond rous course. 
 
 But Pleasure never yet unlinked her chain, 
 
 Unless twas welded by unthought-of pain ! 
 
 Who does not vainly seek to penetrate 
 
 The awe-appalling mysteries of Fate, 
 
 Until the light of Reason s endless day 
 
 Breaks in and charms the unreal spell away? 
 
 Who does not wish in life to leave a name 
 
 Indelible upon the scroll of Fame? 
 
 Can Power supernatural above 
 
 Stem Sorrow s tide, or soothe unanswered Love? 
 
A RETROSPECT. 51 
 
 Ah! what a mourning, weeping world was left, 
 When she of thy great presence was bereft 
 Thou Poet of the Past! whose thought did sweep 
 Afar across the realms of dreamless sleep, 
 Free of the cares of earth, and all its gloom, 
 In climes unknown, and worlds beyond the tomb ! 
 
 And if the soul, when o er that wild is tossed, 
 It in ETERNAL CHAOS is not lost, 
 Leaves not behind the trouble, toil and strife 
 Of this dread, vacillating thing called Life, 
 Then when and where, I ask and ask in vain 
 Will cease the dull, inexplicable pain 
 Around every joy, serpent-like entwined, 
 Fang-pierced the deepest recess of the mind 
 
52 LINES TO NAIDIE. 
 
 LINES TO NAIDIE. 
 
 Yes, to thee, dear Naidie, these lines are penned 
 Imperfect mark of the writer s esteem 
 
 For thou art to him far dearer than friend 
 His hope, his guide, on Life s mystical stream! 
 
 Though the future were dark, dim and distant, 
 Full of dreariness and sorrow my life, 
 
 For thee I ll be always persistent, 
 
 To climb far above its trouble and strife! 
 
 Though trouble and toil may be before me, 
 I know, I feel, that thou wilt be there too, 
 
 To quell the saddened thoughts that come o er me, 
 And cheat the destinies out of their due 1 
 
 Though the Sun of my Life may go down, 
 And Darkness hover about and above me, 
 
 In Oblivion s waters my griefs I ll drown, 
 For I know there is one that will love me ! 
 
DEFYING FATE. 53 
 
 DEFYING FATE. 
 
 Break on! ye seas of Pain and Strife, 
 O er hidden pleasures break and wear 
 
 Away these crags of black Despair 
 This long, dark Misery of Life! 
 
 Break on! ye seas of Strife and Pain, 
 
 O er Sorrow s Weakened realms break on! 
 Till* Madness luridly shall dawn 
 
 In hellish glory o er my brain ! 
 
 Break on ! ye seas, in great wild waves, 
 Break on! and tear from out my mind 
 The hopes of years, now far behind, 
 
 And bear them down to unknown graves! 
 
 Break on ! ye seas, o er Time s dark steep, 
 In grandeur leap; break on! and tear 
 To wrecks this heart, with all its care, 
 
 And bear it to eternal sleep ! 
 
54 TO NAIDIE. 
 
 TO.NA1DIE. 
 
 Oh ! thou, in thoughts of whom my griefs I drown, 
 
 If thy sweet approbation greets my page, 
 Then will I climb the mountain of Renown, 
 
 That I may yet my ceaseless gloom assuage ; 
 That years to come will e en produce a crown 
 
 Of laurels, keeping green from age to age, 
 Unwithered by the World s cold, sunless frown, 
 
 The bleakened winds of Envy and their rage, 
 Engarlanding the sacred wreath of Fame 
 About my verse, and fadeless Glory round my name ! 
 
 When half-subdued, alone I fought the World, 
 
 While many a disappointment on me fell; 
 When grief on grief all merciless was hurled, 
 
 While even thought itself was more than hell 
 When o er Despair s black smoke triumphant curled, 
 
 Entwining round my soul his gloomy spell; 
 When Fortune fled, and Hope her banner furled 
 
 When all about was pain, that naught could quell 
 I thought of thee, and dared once more to breast 
 The storm-tossed waves until they bore me to my rest ! 
 
TO L. P. H. 55 
 
 TO L. P. H. . 
 
 May all-propitious fates entwine 
 Contentment sweet about thy soul ! 
 
 May Fortune s sun above thee shine, 
 To light thy way to Glory s goal ! , 
 
 May Happiness rule all thy life, 
 And all her joys to thee impart, 
 
 Unto the verge where earthly strife 
 Is powerless to touch the heart! 
 
56 NOTES AND ERRATA. 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 "THE MISANTHROPE" was commenced on the twenty- 
 ninth of August, 1874, and finished ere the eighteenth of 
 September rolled around. 
 
 "THE PAST" was written in the month of March, 1874. 
 
 "A REVERIE" was commenced in April, 1874, and fin 
 ished before the first of August. 
 
 " THE AGE OF CHIVALRY" was written in May, 1874. 
 
 " To L. P. H.," lines were written in September, 1874. 
 
 " THE DREAM OF DEATH" was composed in Patterson, 
 N. J., 1871. 
 
 " HOPE ON!" was written in September, 1874. 
 
 " A RETROSPECT" was originally a part of " The Past." 
 
 " LINES TO NAIDIE" were written in Patterson, N. J., 1871. . 
 
 "To L. P. H., lines were written in October, 1874. 
 
 "DEFYING FATE" was written in Sepiember, 1874. 
 
 " To NAIDIE" was composed in October, 1874, 
 
 ERRATA. 
 
 On page 19, in second stanza, at the end of second line, 
 insert a semicolon; at the end of third line, omit semicolon; 
 and at the end of fourth line insert semicolon. 
 
 On page 21, in the third stanza, seventh line, instead of 
 the word "for," read "far." 
 
YA 01694 
 
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