Miscellaneous
CHARLOTTE OATES.
THE LIBRARY
OF
THE UNIVERSITY
OF CALIFORNIA
LOS ANGELES
^MISCELLANEOUS-
'1
. . POEMS, . .
SONGS and RHYAIES,
BY
Chakldtti Qmw.
Entered at Stationers* Hall.
Printkp hy J. S. TooTHiLi,, 71, fionwiN Sturkt.
1 SOS.
PR
5IIZ
PFJEFACE.
f r is with i^enuine pleasure, and some pride, that
T am now able to accede to the wishes of my sym-
p^lthetic readers, and present to them this collection of
mv ])oetical compositions in volume form. Many of
the shorter ones have previously appeared in various
journals, whilst others are now published for the first
time;' and I hope these may meet with that kindly
reception w hiih has hitherto been accorded my simple
effusions.
I would hcic iiratefulh' acknowledge the g-enerous
response 1 have had from all classes ; and only hope
this work will be found to merit the support it has
received. My thanks are alike due to those apprecia-
tive readers who have encourag'ed me to bring" out my
poems in this compact form, and to the kind patrons
who have enabled me, by their support, to do so.
II my numerous subscribers and readers have as
much pleasure in accepting", as I have in presenting"
this volume the effort will not have been in vain.
(^h.m^lottp: oates.
Daisy Cott.^gk,
WvKK, NEAR Bradford. Match, 1898.
8G1848
CONTENTS,
I.
,^ DDlf IBTS.
h®.
j'AOi;
Dedication . .
I
Lulled to Rest
3
The Maiden's Dream
II
A Queen's Sacrifice ..
20
Pastoral Poems —
A Peasant's Home . .
or
Signs of Spring
28
The Old Bridge . .
29
" Birdie's Dream "
32
Lovely May. .
33
A Summer Shower
34
" My Home "
35
To a Diverted Mountaii
Stream
36
Summer Days . .
37
To a Bird
38
The Moorlands. .
38
The Afterglow
39
The Last Sigh of Summe
• 40
I>2ventide
1
41
Harold Park. Low Moor .
42
Ode to the Moon
44
Moorland and Sea . .
45
Norwood Green
47
A December Rose . .
49
The Lunar Rainbow . .
50
The First Snow of Winte
" 51
Nature's Melodies . .
52
The Frozen Brooklet
53
Royds Hall
54
The Name in the Snow .
55
Sabbath Bells . .
5^'
Winter
S7
" The Days are all Alike '
■ 5S
The Snowdrop
59
The Mountaineer's Song .
60
At Nature's Shrine
Co
When the Kvcning Lam]
)
is Lighted
62
Spring
64
The Ni}^htinj;alc
.(.fc
66
" The First Rose of Summer
f.7
"The Country Cottage
Girl"
68
The West Wind
71
On Finding a Bird's Nest
in the Garden
72
Moonlit Flowers
73
Daybreak
Twilight . .
75
76
Night
Autumn . .
79
79
Stars of Midnight . .
82
Compensations . .
A Wintry Sunset . .
To a Robin
«3
84
85
The Old Sycamore Tree . .
i^5
The Beauties of Snow. .
87
Dead Leaves
So
Sea Songs and Oceans Odes
A greeting to the Sea . . 90
The Whispering Waves .. 91
The Return of the Fishing
Fleet 02
A Farewell to an Old
Lifeboat . . . . . . 94
To the Sea . . . . 95
The Captain to his Crew . . 96
The Disconsolate Heart . . 98
The Skipper to his Boat . . 100
" Sailing on the Sunlit
Sea" 101
The Widow's Lament . . 102
The Rainbow .. .. loj
The I.ilcboat Bell .. ..104
The Wreck of the " Sirene "
at Blackpool . . . . loO
Meditations .. .. 108
Fishermen's Wives .. no
11.
CONTENTS.
to
On the Resignation of
Coxswain Bickerstaffe . .
A Sea-Side Sunset
Tlie Ocean's Cliarm
A Sail at Sabbath Eve
The Lifeboat Coxswain
his Crew . .
"The Palace on the Sea"
Shells of the Ocean
A Poet's Wish . .
Solaced
On Leaving the Sea . .
"The Gallant Lifeboat
Crew"
" That House by the Sea " 128
The Fleetwood Lifeboat
Heroes
On seeing the Wrecked
Battleship " Foudroyant"
The Fisher Brothers
A Dream of the Sea
A Secret of the Sea
A Sea-Side Reverie
The Rescue
The Blackpool Lifeboat
Crew
Father's Boat . .
The Margate Lifeboat
Disaster . .
The Veteran's Resolve
The Heroes of the Fylde
" Beautiful Blackpool " . .
" Music on the Water " . .
The Ocean Monarchs . .
Lost !
The Fairy Bark
On the Return
Nansen
The "Bradford'
Rescue ! . .
H.M.S. Atalanta
Song of the Homeward
i^ound
The Lifeboatman's Widow
and Orphan
A Farewell to the Sea. .
of Dr.
to the
III
112
114
116
118
119
120
121
124
125
127
129
131
132
133
136
139
141
142
143
145
147
149
150
152
154
155
159
162
■f'3
i6t
167
170
Elegiac Effusions —
■' I am Weary, let me Rest " 172
In Memoriam : H.R.H.
Princess Alice .. .. 174
On the Death of the Duke
of Clarence
In Memoriam : The late
Prince Imperial of France
" Gone, but never once
Forgot " . .
In Memoriam ; Lord
Tennyson
The Mourning Mother
On the Death of a Nona-
genarian . .
In Memory (jf a Philan-
thropist . .
On the Death of r\Iadame
Patey
In Memory of an Old
Shrimper . .
Sacred Memories
In Memory of a Poet
To a Young Friend
In Memoriam : The Crews
of the St. Annes and
Southport Lifeboats
" Thy Will be Done "
" He is not Dead, He only
Sleeps " . .
In Memorv of a Lancashire
Bard '
" Our Janey " . .
His Best Reward . .
A Tribute to the Memorv
of the Rt. Hon. W. E.
Gladstone. .
Passing Hence . .
Consolation
Christmas Chimes —
Christmas . .
Christmas Eve . .
Christmas Morn
A Christmas Gieeting. .
How to spend Christmas . .
The Dying Year
To the New Year . .
A New-Year Greeting . .
Resolutions for the New
New Year . .
Nellie's Christmas
A Christmas Gift . .
New Year's Eve
175
177
181
I 82
184
185
187
18S
iSy
I go
192
194
196
197
!9J
200
202
205
207
208
209
21 1
212
213
213
214
2 If)
217
218
2ig
220
223
225
COXTKXTS.
111.
The Meeting of the Years 226
Hope with New Year's
Dawn .. .. .. 227
New-Year Keflections . . 228
A Prayer for the New Vtar 230
Random KnvMEb
Past and Present . . . . 233
Yorkshire Factory Clirls 236
An Old Maid . . . . 237
"That Naiighly Demon
Drink ! " . . . . 239
•' Speak of a Man as you
find Him " . . . . 2.)o
The Country Cousin .. 242
" What must I Wear ? " . . 243
A l.ady's Leap - Year
Proposal . . . . •••2-1-4
Pomp and \'ap.ity .. 245
A C) nic s Opinion of the
" New Woman " .. 24S
The Same on the " New
Man . . . . . . 249
The Queen's Jubilee at
Norwood CJreen . . . . 251
" Three Things " . . 252
Plackpool's Attractions 253
"Auntie" .. .. .. 253
The Cunning Mouse .. 25O
A Cirandfather's Advice . . 258
I'ROMiscuous Pieces —
1S87
The Queen's Jubilee,
Youth
iJirihdaN Lines to an
Absent Priend
" My Mother "
Obscure Heroism
The Lllis Memorial Clock
Tower
" Part in Peiice "
To My Father on His
Seventieth Birthday
A Rustic Beauty
A Plea for the Miners
Hope
The Mother's Prayer
Troubled Hearts
•■ (.■i;odness brings its Own
Reward . .
261
264
267
269
270
272
274
275
27S
27<|
280
281
284
285
" 1 Heard Thee Sing
To a Laily . .
Sabbath Day . .
" Waiting " . .
A Mother's Love
On the Death of a Favourite
Dog
" Summer Time will Come
Again"
The Aged
The Parting
Guardian Angels . .
On the (Jpening of the
I'orth Bridge. .
Moral Courage
"Faces"
To a Friend Leaving
Lnglanil . .
Birthday Lines to My Aged
Mother ..
Birthday Wish to My
Father
Happy Memories . .
A Pair of Lovers
Another Pair
The Patrican's Curse . .
Dreams
To a Yuung Lady on Her
Twentyfirst Birthday . .
Dejected..
Answered
A SiKer Wedding Greeting
To an Aflficted One . .
Music
Black Diamonds
To a Writer of some Verses
to the Authoress. .
To E.J.H on her Seven-
teenth Birthday . .
A Mother's Lullaby
The Lover's Lay . .
The Flower Girl
To a Youth on Attaining
His Majority
The Dying Child
I'AGb
287
28S
290
290
292
293
294
295
296
298
298
300
300
302
304
305
300
308
311
313
317
3IS
320
322
323
324
325
327
329
330
ii-
336
337
Ode to the Poel Longfellow 338
United .. .. .. 340
" The Battle is Over ". . 341
The Maiden and Her Lute 342
Lines to an Infant . . . . 343
Retrospection . . . . 345
IV.
CONTKNTS.
PACiE
I'AGE
Farewell Lines to Departing
Despondency ..
372
Friends
347
Pictures in the Fire
• 374
The Evening Star
348
A Sonnet
375
A Simple Truth . .
349
A Marriage Ode
•■ 375
On the Opening of Harold
My Childhood's Home
377
Park
350
The Old Man's Soliloquy
379
To Katie ; on recei\-ing Her
Merit Rewarded
• • 380
Photo
352
The Horse
3S0
The BHnd
353
" I Dreamt She Died
in
Remembrance
355
Childhood"
.- 381
Words of Cheer
356
The Italian Boy
383
"Drifting Apart " . .
357
Smiles and Tears . .
.. 384
"I love to kiss that Faded
A Good Son
385
Cheek
35S
Old Letters . .
. . 386
The Beggar Girl
360
Not Forgotten . .
387
" Brothers and Sisters " . .
361
The Poet's Pleasure
.. 389
The Lover's Lament . .
362
Our Gallant Fire Brigade
s 390
Grief
364
On Seeing an Artist
at
A Welcome Home
366
Work . .
•■ 392
Old Friends. .
1>^1
Sky-tints..
392
On the intended Demolition
Modern Society
•• 393
of Haworth Old Church
368
To a Bride
396
Sorrow's Seal . .
371
An Optimistic Prophecy
•• 397
The Blind Mother . .
371
Valediction . .
•• 399
BY
€-Fii?^-Lt)TTs Oat
DEDICATION.
dedicate, —
This simple, unassuming' Muse
To all my dearest friends :
Framed by Imagination wild.
To Nature's tlirone il bends.
I spread my Fancy's roving wings,
And bade it freely play :
It sped to dreamy realms, and brought
Some gifts from far awaw
And then it took its wayward flight
To depths of vision too:
I caught these as it passed me by,
And penn'd them here for you.
I have not climbed Parnassus' height,
And vet its balmy i)ri'eze,
lias come in wafts across my path,
And lightly left me these.
If any simple la\- of mine,
POEJIS UY CHARLOTTK DATES.
Has either worth, or power
To charm the heart, or help to pass
Away one dreary hour; —
Oh, then I have a rich reward,
I've laboured not in vain ;
Forgive, if I too oft have sung-
A melancholy strain.
If they will call a tear or smile.
Or touch some tender heart.
Then my reward is double-fold —
I've played my humble part.
If aught of classic lore were mine,
They had been nobler far ;
I could not brook that every one
Should think they worthless are.
Both rhymes and poetry will be found,
My earliest efforts make ;
So take them all, my dearest friends,
And keep them for my sake.
0^
1.1.1. 1. I'll ID KISl,
LiULiLiED TO REST.
1 Hit time was t-wniny, and the crini.sun .sun
Had dropt to tx-st buhim! the purple hill ; —
His weary round of labour he hafl done,
And left the lovely \alle)' calm and still :
Where flowers nestled in their grassy beds —
When he had j^one, they slept, with bended heads.
His glow still lingered on the tree-tops high.
His kisses ) et were warm upon the leaves;
A glorious light suffused the western sky, —
Shone down on acres rich with golden sheaves :
And everything was touched with amber light,
bVom lowland fen, to breezx- mountain height.
It rested on the tow'r, with burnished vane.
That crowned an ancient castellated hall ; —
It glittered on each narrow window pane,
That peeped, half hidden, from its ivied wall :
in whose dark shades the wild birds had their nest,-
iieneath the battlements the}- loved to rest.
Within those walls, the youthful Harold dwelt;
An iinalid from childhood he had been ;
Some ijuiet jo)' in living still he felt.
His life was blameless, godl}-, and serene:
He watched the sky, as on his ciaich he lay,
He saw its splendour wax, then melt awa}'.
He loved the sky, and noted ever)- shade
Pass o'er the mighty dome at close of day;
I'or as he watched the golden sunlight fade,
He thought of one in Heaven far away; —
His angel brother trod its hallow'd aisles.
In dreams he saw- him, wreathed in sunny smiles.
I'or the\- had been companions here below,
And Harold held his memory sacred still,
Remi'mb'riiig how that brother soothed his brow.
And tendetl him, when he was weak and ill:--
Ihough strong of limb, discarded healthful pla\-.
To sit beside young Harold, da}- by da}.
POEMS BY CHARLOTTF. GATES.
But Death unwarned, had snatched him from his side,
And left the weaker brother to repine,
Whose years now rolled in an unbroken tide,
Marked by each one with slow and sure decline :
No wonder then, he heavenward turned his eyes,
To watch the mystic changes in the skies.
And yet he had a sister left to him.
Whose joy it was to cheer his lonely lot;
Her rounded cheeks, and ever}.' supple limb.
All plainly showed that sickness knew her not ;
Her eyes were brig-ht their frames of darkest fringe.
Contrasted with her smooth cheeks carmine ting'e.
A sweet youngs g"irl she was, her hair unbound
Fell in dark curls, around her well-formed head ;
And in her presence Harold ever found,
A tranquil pleasure; and the evening- sped
On lig'ht'ning' wings, when she was by his side, —
That favoured sister long- had been his pride.
In peace that eve he watched the lucent sky,
Its clouds with crimson edg-es paler g-row ;
And mused alone, with meditative eye,
Yet sweet contentment rested on his brow ;
His face was pale, and noble, and his hair,
About it hung in wavy clusters fair.
His thoughts reverted to some long past sceni-.
Into his mind a mournful feeling came,
Of what he was and what he might have been.
Had he been gifted with a stronger frame :
Half sad regrets, — all he had lett undone,—
And yearnings vague for life that was to come.
His Maker he had ever loved and praised,
In tender years the Word Divine had burst
Upon his soul, and he had often raised
The golden chalice to his lips athirst ;
To drink the Saviour's all-redeeming l)lood ;
And broken bread of Jesus Christ the good.
The glow-light died, and then the dusk-time canie ;
Its solemn shadows filled the spacious room ;
The fine old pictures, each in ma.ssive frame,
In deep recess, grew dimmer in the gloom ;
LVLl.KV TO RKSr.
The waningf lig'ht was yet more sombr<' made
Hy window hann'inj^s rich, of olive shade.
Their heavy folds made all subdued and dim, —
The tapestry, the oaken cabinets old, —
The statuary, seemed all obscure and grim,
And ^ems of art in chaste designs of 'j;o\(\.
Grew indistinct, as nig-ht came stealing' on,
And dropt its silent tokens one by one.
In semi-darkness Harold still reclined.
When whispers broke his contemplative mood;
A smile o'erspread his features so refined,
To see his sister Elsie near him stood ;
l'"or she had softly entered at the door,
Unseen by him, had crossed the spacious floor.
''Tis gfrowing- dark, shall I bring- thee a light,"
The maiden said, but Harold answered " no,"—
•' I feel most happy in the calm twilig-ht.
But bide with me, I would not have thee g^o ;
1 feel so well to-night, so with me stay ;
And wilt thou g-et thine harp, and sing- and play.' "
" Come close to me, and raise my cushioned head.
And sing- the soughs thou know'st I love the best :"
"1 will, if thou wouldst wish me," I-llsie said, —
'Twas her delig;ht to grant his mild re(|uest:
She took her harp, and drew beside him there,
A richly carved and antiquated chair.
To him his sister ever had been kind,
And to that brother who was la'cn awci>- ;
And since he died, her love was all enshrined
In Harold, ht^ ^rew dearer day l)y day :
Then near the window in the fculing- light.
Her sweet voice broke the silence of the niyht.
The moon was risings, and began to make
The room g^row lighter, as its tranquil ray
Fell on the frescoes, and the fine mosaic,
Till all seemed purer 'neath its sovereign sway : —
Its light beamed in, to intercept the gloom, —
A g-leam of gdory in the dusky room.
She sang- to him, at first so soft and low.
As wild 1/irds' warble when they see the light;
6 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
To higher strains then she began to flow ;
(Her voice was clear and flute-like in its heiglit,)
And as she trilled, her sweet voice gathered power, —
She was the fair enchantress of the hour.
And all the while she gently touched the strings
Of her loved harp, and slumb'ring chords awoke ;
In Hcirold's heart revived the feeble springs,
He felt her power, what though he never spoke :
His soul was soothed, the b/rest held the charm,
Upon his spirit fell a holy calm.
While at his feet, beside his couch she played.
The ]3ale moon kissed her with its golden light ;
To Harold, as he lay back in the shade,
She looked like some fair picture, warm and bright ;
In moonlivrht pale, her graceful form appeared,
In strong relief against the background weird.
Outside the mullioned windows, fair flowers grew,—
Amongst the ivy twined their tendrils sweet;
As through the panes the moon their shadows threw,
There fell a golden tracery at her feet :
And when the zephyrs 'mong the leaflets strayed,
The lovely fretwork trembled while they played.
A stream of light from the ascending moon.
Then reached his face, so pensive and so calm, —
Shone on his ample robe of rich maroon.
Whose cumbrous folds wrapt his recumbent form :
He through the window upward gazed afar.
His dreamy eyes were fixed on one bright star.
So far away, 'twas but a silvery speck —
A little spangle in that boundless space, —
A priceless gem, which mutely seemed to beck.
As down it smiled so sweetly on his face :
Its quivering light was dimmed, but did not wane,
In passing through the night-dew on the pane.
He'd seen it kindled 'neath its Maker's hand.
In realms of peace and silence far on high ;
He wondered if it knew the " Better Land,"
Across the grave, beyond its native sky;
'Twas all unsolved, he only knew its light
Enhanced the beauty of the summer night.
l.ri.l.KI) 1() RKST.
When Elsie paused, she met his thoutrhtful -^nze,
That spoke his thanks, ere he one word had said ;
I'.nough for her, she had no need of praise,
For g-ratitude in his mild orbs she read :
A faint sweet smile his gentle face enwreathed,
"Thanks, sister mine,'" at length he softly hreathed.
" Sublime, dear Elsie, is that g^ift of thine,
Since thy soft music broke the silence first,
My heart has thrilled, and rapture sweet is mine ;
It felt like nectar to a soul athirst:
One favour more I }et must ask of thee,
Sing our loved childhood's hymn,— "Come unto me."
She sang- the hymn, with sympathetic voice,
It was the one their mother used to sing-
When they were children, and 'twas Harold's choice,
A wealth of comfort those sweet words could bring-;
Though simple, and can boast no lofty strain,
Yet Harold loved it, with its brief refrain.
She sang it slowly, and the music shone
Into his soul, and shed a stream of light :
A tender i)athos flowed through every tone,
The space around him filled with \'isions bright;
Ami forms that had their being within his brain.
Came with the cadence of the soft refrain.
And when she paused, a slumbrous silence fell
Upon the room, and everything around ;
And Harold lay, as if beneath a spell,
So pale and passive, in the peace profound :
The solemn moon was shining clear and bright,
And softly fell the " footsteps of the night."
The pendant candelabra yet was dark.
In every nook there lurketl a shadow dim ;
And there was nought the passing hour lo mark, —
The hush was deep, there came no sound from him :
He prostrate lay. his heavy eyelids closed.
And Elsie saw that sweetly he reposed.
And then she sang the touching hymn again,
Then paused once more, and weary felt and lone :
The stillness grew oppressive unto |)ain :
With steady light the moon in s|)lendoui- shone, —
8 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE DATES.
Upon the couch it threw its ghastly beam,
Where Harold smiled, as in a blissful dream.
The nig^ht had come, and things looked gaunt and drear,
She wished the hush to gently melt away.
And softly said in loving tones of cheer.
'• Have 1 again to sing" to thee and play,
Or ai't thou tired, and dost thou wish to rest ? "
No muscle stirred, — no thoughts his face exprest.
She left her harp, and stole up to his side.
Said, " Harold speak, for thy dear sister's sake; "
Still no response, then louder still she cried
In fear and desperation, " Harold wake ! "
He answered not, she stroked his fair young head.
And touched his cheek, then found that he was dead !
She knelt beside him with a startled wail,
Upon his neck her head in grief she bowed ;
Then in a moment Memory raised the veil,
That hid the past, and all his virtues showed ; —
His finest traits to her were then laid bare.
His faults and failings all dissolved in air.
Till then she knew not how much Death had ta'en, —
How good and noble to the last was he ;
She cried, " Oh ! Harold wake but once ag'ain.
Oft-times impatient I have been with thee;
Speak, if but once, to say thou dost forgive.
Oh ! had I asked thee whilst thou still didst live."
No answer came, for cold and still he lay.
To seek forgiveness then, was all in vain ;
She asked too late, the soul had passed away.
Those pallid lips would never speak again :
No more he telt his sister's fond embrace,
For white as marble was that lifeless face.
In tearless anguish in the dusk she knelt.
Upon the floor her flowing drapery spread ;
In that first hour of poignant grief, she felt
Remorse come near, while looking on the dead :
Her trifling faults to him had been but few,
Yet they to h(;r as heavy burdens grew.
vSho wished in vain she had the power to make
Her peace with him, but he was past recall ;
LVLLKD TO REST.
In \ain she .isked tluit brother to awake,
I pen her ear his voice no more would fall ;
In vain she pleaded for one single word,
lie lifeless lay, and neither spoke nor heard.
She cried, " why wert thou ta'en away so soon.
Without a single tarewell word or look ?
Thy face is cold and ghastly 'neath the moon,
Teach me, oh God, this sorrow how to brook :
I cannot yet while grief swells in my breast.
Say meekl}', "Jesus all is for the best."
F"rom off the soul earth's trammels now were flung" —
The flower was plucked before the heat of day ;
Mis life for long^ upon one hinge had hung,
But He who gave can surcl}' take away ?
And Death's more painful jjangs h^ld stung him not,—
Serene his transit to a fairer spot.
The tired one had gone to rest at last.
He being aweary, found life's hill too steep :
In early years the joke from him was cast.
He passed away while in a dreamless slee])':
\Vh\- should we grieve at all for deaths like his ? —
The soul unfettered, found its lasting bliss.
And it was meet that he should i)ass away
While list'ning to his sister's music sweet,
Into the Regions of Eternal day.
Where pain is not. but all is bliss complete :
His sister's voice, his last glad sound while here,
The Saviour's words had soothed his dying ear.
And when his soul had soared on mystic wing",
And in its fr(,'edom passed the starlit dome ;
His angel brother There the first wouhi sing.
And bid him welcome to the Heavenly Home ; —
I lis voice would greet him, in that Sainted Land,
And Jesus place him w ith the angel band.
And all that once had seemed to him obscure,
Would be unfolded as he entered There ;
The angels in their vesture white and pure.
With wreaths, and crowns, all glorified and fair; —
The Throne of Ciod, on heights of love supreme,
.And Jesus near it, in a hallowed gleam.
lO
POEMS BY CHARLOTTE OATES.
And sweeter far, than aught he heard on earth,
Would be the music that would charm his ear,
In Pariidise, when he had found new birth,
Where angels claimed, and crowned their brother
And took him all their wonders to behold, [dear; —
And gave to him a precious harp of gold.
THK MAIUKn's DREAil. I I
THE OlRTDEfl'S DT^EAm,
" Oh ! Mother, hark, the roaring" wind,
Hear how the rag^ing blast
Tears in gusts around the house, —
And rain is falling fast ! ''
" Child, its every piercing wail
Brings nought but woe to me ;
To-night in surh a furious gale —
God help all those at sea! "
" Hark! Mother, what a dismal howl
Sweeps through the chimney wide ;
I do wish Father was at home,
And sat here by my side : "
"My child, thai is a useless wish.
When he is far from thee ;
Rut oh, on such a night as this,
God help all those at sea! "
" "Tis bedtime Maggie, go to rest —
Rejiose thy youthful head.
And pray that ere the morning breaks
The tem]iest may have fled."
Reside the bed, a white-clad form
Soon bowed on bended knee ;
Her voice was heard amid the storm —
•'God bless all those at sea."
Her prayer was earnest, and sincere.
As humbly kneeling there.
She sought, with supj^licating voice.
Kind Heaven to hear her priiyer:
She pleaded long, her faith was strong,
As e'er a child's could be ;
And often came the words among- —
•Protect all those at sea."
12 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
And then she laid her down to rest,
And quailed not at the storm ;
For soon upon her senses fell
Repose, so sweet and calm.
While Morpheus held her in its power
All throu^jfh the darksome nig"ht;
The mother watched each dreary hour
Pass on, and yearned for lisrht.
She paced the room, nor could she sleep-
All night she kept awake ;
For with the fury of the wind,
The cottage seemed to shake :
The window rattled in its frame —
A frail and trembling mass;
Like pelting sand, the driven rain
Beat hard against the glass.
The thunder, with a threat'ning voice.
Was mutt'ring midst the storm ;
The wild wind blew in fitful gusts,
Then waxed a moment calm :
She opened then the cottage door.
And peered into the night ;
The leaves rushed in, along the floor,
Escaped the tempest's might.
She paused and listened to the sounds
Within the vale below;
The beck, that bounded o'er the stones
With rapid, rushing flow ;
The wind had travelled to the wood,
And moaned like restless seas, —
Had left the spot where then she stood.
And racked the distant trees.
But only to return ag"ain —
'l\vas but a moment's peace.
Another moment saw the storm
Of wind and rain increase.
The thunder with a vengeance fierce,
In fury shook on high;
And clouds, too dense for stars to pierce,
Rolled on the midnight sky.
rilK MAIDKX S DRKAM. I 3
She closed once more the cottag'e door
Ajji-ainst the drivingf blast. -
A-ainst the leaden hail and rain,
Then streaming down so fast.
The corner clock, with measured tick,
Was all the sound within ;
The candle, with its drooping wick,
Was burning, — faint and dim.
The clock gave out each passing hour,
I'ut still she could not rest;
The more she listened to the gale,
The more she felt opprest.
As. through the night, 'mid wind and slcrt.
The light'ning played in glee,
She often would the words repeat —
" God help all those at sea ! "
And once she went, with light in hand.
To where the maiden lay.
Unconscious of the storm, she dwelt
In Dreamland far away :
She softly kissed the fair young face
That in calm slumber smiled ;
And murmured as she left the place,
" Sleep on, sweet trusting child," —
"The tempest now is nought to thee,
Rut makes thee sleep the more ;
The wind has soothed thee fast asleep —
And lullfd thee with its roar.
Rut how thy father will be tossed
I'pon the billows free ;
Oh 1 if to-night he should be lost, —
God hel]) all those at sea ! "
When morn at last began to dawn —
The tempest to abate —
She crossed the threshold once again,
And went towards the gate ;
She gazed around, the air was chill,
Then looking up she said,
•• Thank God ! it is His holy will.
The storm at last has tied."
POEMS BY CHARLOTTK GATES.
" The rain has ceased, the wind has hushed,
The clouds have drifted far ;
And lo ! above my head there beams
The g;entle morning- star !
It seemeth like a hopeful ray,
Its palino-, trembling" lig'ht ;
Now waning-, as the morning- grey
Is wrestling- with the night.
" I see the outline of the hills,
As lighter grows the day,
Their barren ridges meet the sky,
In distance far away.
And far beyond the mountain chain,
There rolls the mighty sea;
And one I love sails on the main.
Lord watch him there for me ! "
Then looking down the vale she said, —
" Has all here braved the storm ?
No I where is that familiar tree .^
I miss its noble form.
Ah, it is chang-ed, the ash tree old,
That graced the meadow there,
Now prostrate lies, that seemed so bold,
And all its roots are bare."
' Oh, Mother, come and sit by me "'—
'Twas Maggie's gentle voice; —
" The storm has hushed, the morn is calm.
Does not your heart rejoice .' "■ —
" It would my child, did I but know-
That Father's ship was in ;
To think he's on the ocean now,
Still gives me fears for him. "
'• Oh Mother, I have had a dream.
Its deep, mysterious power.
Has held my senses in its thrall.
Through many a weary hour,
I felt so happy when I woke
From that strange thrilling'- dream :
The voice of Merc)- in it spoke —
l)Ut must I lell its theme .^"
THIi MAIDKN's DRICAM. 1^
"Yes child, relate th\- dream to me.
My g"entle IMayg-ie, do ;
And I will sit beside thy bed,
'Twill yive me comfort too ;
For night has jLTone, the temi)est passed.
The East is in a glow :
The lovely sun now shines at last,
Upon the mountain's brow ! "
"Well Mother dear, I closed my eyes.
With many haunting" fears ;
The roaring wind, and pattering' rain
Were sounding in my ears ;
But when I fell asleep, the noise
Of wild wind, and of rain,
Were then to me the booming voice.
Ol billows on the main."
" I thought I saw a raging sea,
With waves that leapt so high.
Their snowy crests gleamed white as ghosts,
Against tlie midnight sky.
At first a silvery mist hung o'er.
The offing far awa)', —
I'or I was stood upon the shore.
And felt the fresh"ning spra\'."
'• I heard the waters' thundi-r loud —
Their Ijooni against the rock :
The echo in the cavern cell,
Their tury seemed to mock.
The hail and rain were falling fast,
The sky was low and dark —
When midst the storm 1 saw a mast.
And then a storm-tost bark."
• It was my father's ship I saw
L'pon the surging sea:
It rocked and pitched upon the waxes.
Kach mast bent like a tree :
And oft 'twas nearly lost to sight.
The l)ill()ws rose so high ;
Then once again I saw its height.
Loom black against the skv. "
l6 POIOIS BY CHARLOTTK OATES.
" The sails had broken from the yards,
And flapp'd all wet and torn ;
I siiw them flutt'rino- in the wind,
The ship before it borne.
Then in a mist of silvery spray,
The vessel would be lost,
But still it bounded on its way,
Amid the tempest tost."
" Then with a weird phosphoric glow,
The waters glittered bright ;
As with a flame, from stem to stern.
The ship was all alight :
Hugg'd in the waves' impulsive clasp.
Amid the dancing foam ;
It bravely struggled in the blast
As it was steered for home ""
"Then all at once a dark'ning cloud
Came drooping o'er the sea,
It seemed to hang above the ship,
And spread its edge o'er me :
'Twas purple black, and cast a gloom
Upon the ocean's breast ;
But still I heard the l)illows boom.
And saw each foaming crest."
'■ And then a veil of vapour bright,
Ascended from the deep ;
In curling wreaths, it rose above,
From where the sea-shells sleep.
It settled in that cloud so drear.
Suspended o'er the main ;
And left the restless waters clear,- -
The ship appeared more plain."
'• It looked so white against the cloud,
While darker seemed the sky ;
And then above my father's ship,
At last it rested high :
It smaller grew, but more intense;
'Twas like a radiant light,
As thro' the depth ot darkness dense.
It shone so strangely bright."
IHK MAiniN S DRKAM, I 7
•' And then, dear Mother, as 1 g^azud,
I'he white mist took a form ;
I think. I see it even now,
Distinct amid the storm.
For tj-rareful fingers, one by one,
Developed in the sky ;
Until a perfect hand there shone,
Above the waters high."'
"At first 'twas faint, and indistinct,
But soon wrew more defined;
I'ntil at last if seemeil to me
'Twas Mercy's hand so kind !
I knew that Heaven had sent it there.
To guide the vessel's course;
The thought that He had heard my prayer.
Rose up, with all its force."
" For there I saw my father's ship
Careening- on the deep :
While high above it was that hand.
As if a guard 'twould kee]) ;
And as the vessel tossed among-
The wild waves mid the storm.
This m)stir token moved along- —
The dark sky showed its form : "
" Right o'er the toiling ship it kept,
A true protecting hand —
As if to lead it o'er the sea
In safety, to the land :
A silvery halo round it gleamed.
Of vapour, soft and bright;
And as it moved alony, it seemed
To leave a streak of light."
"And all the while, I heard the wild
Pulsation of the sea,
'Twas beating on the l)arren shore.
And rushing- up to me:
And then I heard a rustling noise.
Reside me in the gloom —
Then whis]iered low a mystic voice —
• I'll guide him safely honie I "
I 8 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE OATES.
"The words awoke me from my dream.
And gave my heart a thrill ;
And now I find the storm is o'er,
The morn is calm and still ;
And, Mother dear, I feel full well,
That vision came to me.
To bid us both our fears despel.
For Father on the sea : "
" A loving" deed, by Him above,
Revealed to me in sleep ;
'Twas Mercy's hand, He sent in love,
To lig'ht the desert deep ;
I trust that Father soon will come,
To join us once ag'ain —
That God will send him sately home.
From off the mig"hty main."
" Now I will rise, my heart is g"Uid,
That dream was full of cheer ;
For hope that now dwells in my heart.
Has chased away all fear."
"My child, thy words ha\e comfort broug-ht,
I too will trust thy dream ;
And cherish every happy thought,
Sug"g"ested by its theme."
The time wore on, then came a day,
The sun was bright and warm.
The latticed window open wide.
The air was full of balm.
A g"entle, soothing", whispering breeze,
Defused the scent of flowers ;
And lisped among the garden trees.
That twined in rustic bowers.
The white-winged clouds, of silverv sheen.
So softly rolled on high,
Upon a ground of azure blue—
A fair and sunny sky.
THK MAIOKN S DRI'A.M. I9
Without, an air serene anrl calm,
The flowers all in bloom ;
Within, a peaceful fireside warm —
An l^nf^i-lish cottage home.
The mother and the g-entle girl.
Were f|uietly sittin.i^- there ;
A hopeful smile lit Maggie's face,
I ler mother's told of care.
The little captive sing-ing- bird
W^as pouring out its song ;
What though unheeded, and unheard,
Throughout the whole day long-.
"Hark! Mother, 'tis the garden gate,
I hear its rattling sound ;
And now I hear a step ai)proach, —
A firm tread on the ground : "
And looking through the window bright,
They saw a well known form ;
"Oh joy : " cried Ma.g-gie in delfght —
" 'Tis Father coming home ! "
Dressed in a g-arb of navy blue.
Came he the}' lo\ed so well ;
He raised the latch, and there beheld
His wife, and winsome girl !
W^ith happy hearts, relie\ed from care,
They kissed his sunburnt face :
With loving words, united there,
The three w ith fond embrace.
That night, when Maggie went to bed,
Before she sought her rest —
W^hen kneeling at her evening prayers
Her Maker's name she blest ; —
Poured out her grateful thanks alone,
Before the Throne Above ;
To Him who sent her father home,
In pity, and in love.
20 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
R QUEER'S SflCf^ipiCE.
There stood in a i^orgeous palace old,
A royal lady divinely fair ;
A crown superb of the purest gold,
Lay on the coils of her glossy hair ;
Her purple vesture proclaimed her l)irth,
Among'st the highest she ranked on earth.
And though she ruled o'er a wide domain,
And swayed the sceptre upon the throne,
Upon her face was a look of pain,
As there in luxury all alone,
She sat and mused ; as the sunlight fair
Gleamed on her robes, and her jewels rare.
The necklace rich on her shoulders white,
The bracelets coiled on her lovely arms.
All set with diamonds, that flashed with light,
But seemed to heighten her outward charms ;
A single glance at her brow serene,
Revealed the noble, and high-souled queen.
A queen .-' ah yes ! but withal there beat
A woman's heart in that regal breast ;
A truer, nor tenderer one, ne'er yet
Graced royal crown, or a noble's crest ;
Of womanly virtues although possessed.
Why did she languish, as one depressed ?
A paper lay in her dimpled hand,
That held a plea for the honest poor ;
Her suffering sex in her much-loved Land,
To whom was open no friendly door;
It showed how needed for such when ill,
Was a place of rest, with the surgeon's skill.
Her aid was sought, and her heart was moved,
In anguished, j)itying tones she cried ;
" My Kingdom's poor, I have ever loved,
To mind their welfare has been my pride;
But oh ! they know not, what though a queen,
How low in wealth 1 have always been. —
A QIKKN S SACRIFKK. 21
" They think their Soverei^rn rich indeed,
And crave the hel|:» that I fain would g-i\ e ;
Must these, my sisters then, vainly plead?
Whilst I in luxury still must live ?
They need a refuj^e that must be free,
The pains of women assuaj,'-ed must be. —
" Can 1. a mother, sit here in ease,
And hear the plaints of the sore distrest ?
Nor try their suffering- to ajjpease,
Nor find them shelter, and skill, and rest ?
This breast would cover a heart of steel,
If I were deaf to their sad appeal !
•'They deem me wealthy, but little know,
I am but rich in a }oke of care ;
There's many a richer with uncrovvned brow.
That does not a nation's burdens bear:
The yaudy trapping's of pomp and state.
Are naught but trammels, nor make me great.—
" The gems I wear are mj' only wealth,
And these m\ oflTering now must be ;
Shall suffering women ne'er gain lost health.
That costly gems may be worn by me }
These jewels bright that my arms adorn,
May purchase life for the lowly born !
•' My courts be rid of a useless band.
Half my attendants but be retained ;
No gem shall shimmer upon this hand.
Thereby the good that I seek be gained •
1 keep the sceptre, nor yield the crown,
Those being my birthright, I still must own.
" Self-love and vanity hence shall go,
Nor find a refuge again in me :
Fach conquered, flee like a vanquished foe,
A bloodless victory mine shall be ;
The power I hold, and by right divine.
Shall through my vast dominions shine 1 "
She wrenched the diamonds from off her wrist,
They danced in l)eaut\- before her eyes:
That dim were then w ith a tender mist,
Where Pity sat in her sweetest guise :
22 POEJIS BY CHARLOTTK GATES.
The queen's heart ached for her subjects sake,
Her warmest sympathies were awake.
She quickly summoned her courtiers near,
Whom she commanded with stately mien ;
" Take these, my jewels, I held most dear,
They never ag"ain shall deck your queen :
Go take them hence, as my gift of love,
Surrended freely my heart to prove.
"And mark! whatever the price they bring.
Devoted be to the women's home ;
And never a debt to it shall cling,
Endowed 'twill be for the years to come :
God's hallowed blessing rest on the spot,
His poor by me shall be ne'er forgot."
Amazed the courtiers stood, yet they
Dared but obey, at their queen's command ;
The royal mandate none could gainsay.
The deed was signed, by her own fair hand :
All meekly bowed to the queen's decree,
Revered and blest from their hearts was she.
The rich sun set in its ruby gown,
On stately stairways, of marble white ;
On ornate pillars, and walls, streamed down
Erewhile, the glorious orb of night:
On downy pillow kissed by its beams.
The good ciueen smiled in her happy dreams.
*^ •Uf ^ .u. .u, .u,
*7f -TT Tt" -TV" -A* 'J^
A year p£issed by ; then she stood one day
Within the " home " of her tender care ;
Where those in mortal affliction lay.
Whose faint hearts brightened, to see her there
And while she sat by the couch of pain,
Their faltering faith was revived again.
She softly glided from ward to ward.
O'er forms recumbent she gently bent ;
She soothed the sufferers' lot so hard.
And comfort offered where e'er she went :
An angel spirit in woman's guise,
Shone from the depths of her splendid eyes.
A QIEKN's SAtRIKICK. 23
In simple raiment, devoid oi state,
She viewed the structure her wealth had raised ;
The sacrifice she had made was great,
Her noble efTorts were prized and praised :
Thou.^h boundless ijood hiid her action wrouj^^ht.
Yet never a word of thanks she souy-ht.
Anon she stooped o'er a lowly bed,
Where lay a woman by i)ain op]:)rest ;
Throug-h long- affliction had drooped her head.
And oft she yearned for the jiromised rest :
Their hands were clasped, as if loth to part.
Compassion melted the loved queen's heart
The patient sufferer's soul was thrilled,
While by her tjueen's, was her hand caressed ;
Her longf tried heart for the moment filled,
With reverent love, that was unexprest :
Her homag-e flowed in a voiceless i)rayer.
P>ut for her fjueen she had not been there.
Her deepest feeling's were not to seek.
For oh I the g^aze of those grateful eyes ;
They beamed the thanks that she could not speak.
And made the tears of the g-ood queen rise :
That look had i)ierced to her inmost soul,
Twas 'g"raved on memory's choicest scroll.
A world of feeling- was there exprest,
A wealth of love for the g-ood received ; —
Of gratitude for the needed rest.
Through all the ills that were being- relieved :
For hope's bright rainbow appeared o'erhcad.
And threw its light o'er the sufferer's bed.
They felt a moment as equals there.
Their souls had met in that mutual g-aze ;
The queen's and peasant's illumined were,
Ry nature's sul)tle, mag-netic rays :
For human sympathy far can reach,
And levelling pain can lessons teach.
The wasted lineaments fain had smiled.
Though racked l)v pain was the prostrate form :
"Twas like a mother's to helpless child.
That touch of sym|)athy, true and warm :
24 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
A quiver passed o'er her face, and showed
The fervid font of her heart o'erflowed.
And lo ! a tear from her eyes dropt down
Upon the sovereign's hand so fair;
Like some bright jewel from regal crown,
It glistened, and trembled a moment there ; —
As clear as crystal, so pure and bright.
It gemmed the beautiful wrist so white.
The good queen saw it, and cried " behold !
There gleams a g-em on my wrist once more ;
A liquid jewel of worth untold,
And one more precious I never wore ;
A diamand sparkles, and trembles here,
Of purest water, — a woman's tear ! —
"Who says my jewels to me are lost.'
I see their value before me here ;
Dissolved, condensed, at the dearest cost.
They've ta'en the form of a beauteous tear !
I am happier far than I were of old,
When decked in gems that were hard and cold.
"This grateful tear, that thou couldst not stem,
Is my reward that my God has given ;
A beautiful, crystal, priceless gem,
Dropt by a soul on its way to Heaven :
My sweetest recompense this shall Ije,
Baptized henceforth by this tear from thee. —
""Tis consecrated, for herein sleeps
The essence sweet of the purest love ;
Such tears as these, which a torn heart weeps.
Conveys a message from Him Above ; —
God's blessing comes in its liquid sheen —
Falls on the hand of the happiest- queen. '"
True words ! at peace with her God above.
Through her good deeds was His love revealed ;
She had lost her jewels, but won His love,
And by that tear was the compact sealed :
For each one lost, she could not forget,
A priceless gem in her soul was set.
I'ASTOKAI, I'OKMS. 25
PlSTDilAL PdEMJ^
^
^:^*
A PEASAfiT's Home.
Give me the little family i;roup.
Where piety and love
Reiyn all supreme, thouyh poor the cot. -
When these per\ade the humblest spot,
'Tis blest by Him above.
When parents and their children all
In bonds of love unite ;
And all a true affection tee),
And labour for each other's weal, —
Then hearts, and homes are brig"ht.
When wreaths of fondest lo\e entwine
Around their tender hearts ;
That makes them cling- to home so dear,
A sacred feeling- I)inds them near,
And homely joy imparts.
The wintr\- sunshine glinteil through
The cottag-e window bright;
Then sunk so calmly in the west,
And seemed to bid the workers rest
Awhile. — for it was night.
So wear)" with his honest toil.
The cotter setks his home ;
The children for their father wait,
They hear the clinking garden-g'ate,
And smile to sec him come.
Within the little rustic cot, —
Where all is clean and neat, —
The grandsire has the warmest nook,
And on his face there beams a look
With happiness replete.
2^ POKMS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
The sturdy son comes whistling" home,
From field-work far away ;
The little circle is complete,
The boys and g"irls their parents meet,
To end the happy day.
riie gentle mother minds her babe.
With fond devoted care,
The eldest daughter has her place, —
A graceful girl, with comely face.
And neatly braided hair.
The peat-fire sheds a ruddy glow
Upon the cottag-e wall;
The frugal little board is spread,
They eat their well-earned daily bread,-
Then offer thanks tor all.
The pussy too, is sitting there,
She blinks and purs away ;
And courts the warm domestic hearth.
Among the children's joyous mirth.
To watch her kittens play.
Outside, the night is bleak and cold,
The stars are glitt'ring bright;
The frost-wind, wailing at the door.
In g"usts, from off the heath-clad moor-
Attends the wintry night.
Within the cot, the peasants rest.
The happy evening long ;
The old fire-side is bright and warm.
And music lends its soft'ning' charm,
To their enlivninc sonsr.
'&
Oh, music ! chast'ning every joy,
A noble art divine ; —
That draws together soul to soul,
And o'er the feelings has control, —
While kneeling at its shrine.
Its influence on the human heart,
Is soothing and refin'd ;
PASTORAL I'OK.MS. 2"]
it cheers the poor man's leisure hours,
Bestre'vs his path of toil with flowers,
And ele\ates his niind.
Sweet plaintive strains, that find the lieart.
Resound within that cot;
' Tis not a master's finished touch,
And yet the simi)le airs are such,
■J'hat will not be forgot.
Ihe mother plying- there her work,
< ^ft pauses as she feels
The thrilling' pathos of the strain.
And asks to hear it o'er ag^ain,
As to her heart it steals.
The old man feels its soffningf power,
As with his locks so white,
I le sits there, in the corner chair ;
And see his cheek, a tear is there —
So tremulous and bright!
It l)rings up recollections old.
Of days when he was young; —
The melodies that he has taught, —
Arouses every lofty thought.
To hear them sweetly sung.
1 heir better nature seems to wake,
At music glad and sweet ;
Oh! blessings on theve peasants' lot,
Content, and happy in their cot.
The hours so softly fleet.
" A peasant's home," how sweet the name,
When it is such as this ;
Round heart to heart, by s-acred ties
Of love, how f^ist the evening flies.
So full oftran{|uil bliss I
I'he soul of music swelling lorth.
From that poor humlile place:
Where hap|)y voices all unite
In songs, that make the household Ijright,
And grander spots would grace.
28 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE OATES.
The working man reclining" there,
A father true is he ;
He yields his soul to music's spell,
And clings to those he loves so well.
His children round his knee.
It cheers him for the morrow's toil.
To hear these glad'ning sounds;
The cares and hardships of the day,
'Neath this enchantment pass away.
And peaceful joy abounds.
See ! now at last the time has come
For slumber, peace, and rest;
The baby long has been asleep,
And laid its little dimpled cheek.
Upon its mother's breast.
Now all is hushed, — the fire is low
With but a flickering light ;
Behold ! the father kneeling there.
He offers up an evening prayer, —
Then each one says, "Good-night.
SIGHS OF SPRING.
There's a sweeter swell in the robin's song,
And a deeper red on his ruffled breast ;
He has day-dreams bright of a downy nest. —
Of the mate he'll charm as the days grow long.
And when to the throstle's song we list.
There's a richer ring in his plaintive notes ;
'While on the breath of the breeze there floats,
Prophetic symbols, consigned in mist.
There are tender buds on the sapful tree,
And signs appear through the yielding earth,
Of latent life, and of mystic birth,—
An index sweet of the things to be.
I'AMUKAL POKMS. 29
Before we even have ceased to hear
The merry sound of the hunter's horn,
Two wee white lambs in the flo';k are born, —
Their tremulous bleating greets the ear.
Eve's sun-rays linger on mountain crest,
Of lengthening days 'tis a token fair;
While the midges dance in the yenial air,
'Neath the amber glow of the radiant west.
Life- essence dwells in the sunshine warm.
That tempts the bees from their wintry hives ;
All nature stirs, from its trance revives,
And the daisy blooms with a s]iring-like charm.
The white-tailed conies at early morn.
Begin to sport by the brown copse bare ;
A presage bright for the youthful year.
Rich with the wealth of its hopes new-born.
As through the desolate meads we pass.
In pasture's bleached to the dull grey-green
Of shrivelled herbage, e'en now is seen
Bright emerald blades of the new spring grass.
There's a brighter sheen in the glistening brook.
And a hopeful tone in its brisker flow;
Unfettered now by the ice and snow.
It blithely babbles by grassy nook.
The year is young, but it .seems replete
With welcome signs of an early spring ;
May summer days in their fulness bring,
The fruitage rich of a promise sweet.
THE ObD BI^IDGE.
My favourite haunt ; I love to stray,
Tpon a balmy summer's day
I'y this old bridge, that spans the brook ;
.\ beautiful sequester'd nook.
30 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE OATKS.
In this lone spot I oft have stood
And g-azed into the silent wood.
The noble trees of varied hue
Point to the sky so deeply blue :
The honeysuckle, and wild rose,
Bloom here alone in sweet repose :
In solitude as oft I stray.
The fragrance of the new-mown hay
Fills all the air so rich and sweet,
Within this shady, cool retreat.
In pensive mood I linger long',
And listen to the wild-birds' song; —
The wren, the linnet, and the thrush.
Among the thicket and the bush :
Each warbles forth its plaintive lay.
To while the summer hours away.
By this old bridge 1 love to roam,
So near my little cottage home ;
And lean upon its moss-grown wall.
Above the silvery waterfall,
To watch the lazy waters run,
That glisten brightly in the sun ;
And gurgle on with rippling- sound,
Enliv'ning all the woods around :
While leaves upon its surface float.
Each like some little fairy boat,
And when the evening softly fades.
The twilight gathers in its shades :
The little wild-birds cease to trill, ^ —
The valley sleeps, so calm and still.
Then in its wintry aspect grand,
On this old bridge I love to stand ;
Its massive walls adorned by age,
Defy the storm in all its riige ;
And weather still the driving blast,
As boldly now as in the past.
And tufts of silken grass so g>"reen.
Peep out from every open seam.
The ivy in a creeping spray,
Clings to its walls so damp and grey.
I court it in a nobler form, —
TASTORAL POKMS. 3 f
Amid the j^randeur of the storm.
And in the snow, so beauteous, when
Kiich stone is liki; a crystal j,^em
The hoar-frost han^s from ever} ed^fe,
Like silver)' fring-e upon each ledg-e ;
When snow envelopes all the scene.
And 'neath it sleeps the vale so .yreen :
The whole presents a lovely sig-ht,-
When every thing- is touched with white.
The streamlet frozen in a mass,
Arrests my footsteps as I pass.
The beauteous sig^ht mine eyes allure,
Ihose blocks of solid ice so pure ;
Sweet Nature's artist been at work.
And sculptured from a marble rock : —
Had chiselled temples it would seem.
From out a liciuid, running- stream !
So wonderful and deft its hand,
Desig-ns translucent caverns grand.
And shielded b} the ice and snow,
A warmer current glides beiow
The tiny ice-berg-s, pure and white—
So fair, and crjstallized, and brig-ht :
Like polar seas in miniature.
Hut far too lo\eIy to endure.
They 'neath the sunlight melt so last.
Too frail, too beautiful to last I
1 love to wander by the wood.
On this old bridge, when foaming iLx.d
The waters, as 1 lean me o'er,
And listen to their hollow roar;
Xo long-er frost-bound on they flow .
In swollen torrents rush below: —
I'eneath the archway they resound.
Like Ocean's voice as c")n they bound.
It seems as if with one accord.
They arc responding- to a word.
That Nature speaks, or g-ives a sign.
That they have slumbered now their tim
An unseen messeng'er on wing,
Had loosened every little s])ring-:
32 POEJIS BY CHARLOTTE DATES.
The drifts of snow dissolve away,
Beneath the sun's warm genial ray.
The little water-courses run,
And shimmer brightly in the sun.
What inward ecstasy is mine !
As here in silence I recline ;
On this old bridge, my favourite place,
And nature's countless beauties trace.
In winter drear, and summer green, —
And all the shades that come between.
Amid the storm, and when 'tis calm,
This old bridge has a lingering charm.
<4
Blf^lDIE'S DREflm."
In the solemn hush of midnight,
When the stars so softly shone ;
Once I heard a little minstrel,
When I thouofht I was alone.
'te'
Everything was steeped in silence,
Darkness filled my chamber small ;
When the stillness deep was broken
By a little birdie's call.
On the rose-tree, perched at midnight,
Close beside my window bars ;
Pretty birdie woke from sleeping, —
Trilled a moment to the stars.
Had the little wild-bird, dreaming
Happy thoughts, it could not keep,—
And a sudden gush of gladness
Made it murmur in its sleep ?
Oft since then I've heard it twitter,
To my room its music floats ;
In the fulness of its gladness,
.Sweetly fall its silvery notes.
PASTURAl, I'OKMS. 33
How I love it when 1 hear it !
'l"ho' its song" too soon is o'er;
Just a warble, then it ceases —
All is silent as before.
liOVELiY nriAY.
P)EH0i.i) she' comes ! with a smilinjj^ bro>A ,
'Ihe blithe and beautiful month of May :
Enrobed in blossoms, as white as snow,
We trace her step throuLih the woodland v, j) .
Kmer^'^ing" fresh from the wintry gloom,
Her dainty j)resence on every hand.
P'lings radiant light into every home, —
Her gifts she scatters o'er all the land.
The sweetest born of the glad new year,
Nursed in the lap of the bounteous Spring :
She lifts her beautiful face so fair.
Her voice is heard as ihe woodlands ring, —
With sweet bird-music ; rich notes ascend
From cloisters wild, in the forest shades: —
The warbler^' tendercst love-songs lend,
A May-time glory to sunlit glades.
Thrice welcome May ! with her wealth of flowers.
rhat through the gossamer g-arb of morn.
Peep forth in beauty, or bathed by showers,
Exhale perfumes that are hither borne.
Sweet bright-eyed Ma\-, how we love her face !
Her glad'ning glance and her mirthful moods :
She drapes the groves, an«l transforms with grace
To emerald splendour the sylvan woods.
A taste of Heaven she giv^^s to earth —
Leaves beauty-spots on the iiath she treads :
< )ne touch from her. anil the buds have birth.
A myriad flowerets lift their heads.
34 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE OATKS.
Our pulses quicken, for hope is rife,
She brings the key to its fairy bowers;
And all are feeling- the glow of life,
Who breathe the scent of the new-born flowers.
Oh, lovely May! with her sunn\- brow.
By Nature crowned, and her chaplet's gems
Are pure as fleeting, wee wild flowers low,
Mid velvet verdure, uplift frail stems.
The nymph glides on with her garlands gay.
Bestowing kisses on one and all;
Nor from the lowly she keeps away.
All free for such do her favours fall.
Her touch transfigures, her smiles renew, —
Invest the earth with a vernal charm :
The daisies drenched with the diamond dew.
Like jewels flash in her sunlig'ht warm.
Sweet Nature's handmaid, young joyous May !
Her fair arcadian bowers we love ;
Her pink- white blossoms, though frail, con\ey
A hidden promise from One Aljove.
A summEt^ sHocUEt^.
O LOOK at the rain, the heaven-sent rain.
Steeping the garden, the woodland, and plain ;
See how each tree and each little flower.
Holds up its head at the liie-giving shower !
What is so sweet as the freshening rain,
Batliing the face of sweet Nature again .'
See ! how she smiles as licr daisy-decked brow,
Is r('])lete with the raindrops that gleam on it now.
The flowers their petals outspread to the rain.
With thirst they were parched, yet new life they regain
What can the sweet-briar in fragrance excel.
When sprinkled afresh willi thr rain, can ye tell .-
I'ASIOKAI. I'ol MS. 35
We can but t'L-joicc at the soft gentle rain,
I'hat l)rightens the jifrass in the dust- cove red lane;
Nature's sweet elixir, purest and best,
Restoring" her charms when she s sad and depressed.
Mv iiome, is but a lowly home,
And yet I love it more
Than all the stately dwellinLi's line.
1 hat rise from sh(jre tu shore.
It cannot boast one costly thing-,
Or g^rand and outward show :
J-5ut oh 1 the love that dwells within.
Far more than others know .
My home, it is a pleasant home,
And full of love and bliss ;
Oh I what would many sad hearts give
P^or such a home as this !
And many happy years Ive passed
Beneath its shelt'ring roof, —
The plt^isant hours I've spent within
riie homestead of mv N'oulli.
My home, it is a rural home.
Beside the old green lane :
In summer, blooming flowers bright
Festoon the window pane.
The rose-trees climb its mossy wall.
And form a rustic bower.
In which I've often sat and dreamt
Through many a sunn)- hour.
M\ home, it is a happ)' home,
And where 1 live content ;
Our love is all united herr.
And in one channel bent.
< )ur cot o'erlooks lone Helds and woo<ls.
And this is more to me
Ihan all the jray and busy throng. —
I'ecause 1 feel so free 1
36 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE OATES.
My home, it is a peaceful home.
Where all is calm and still, —
All. save the warbling- of the birds
And rippliny of the rill,
That flows into the old stone well
With murrn'ring- music sweet.
The plane-tree throws its g-rateful shade
Across the gfarden neat.
?^'
My home, it is a blissful home,
Fond love is centered here ;
And thanks I render for it all, —
It is my daily prayer.
God gives me health and happiness,
Contentment, peace, and love, —
These are the greatest blessings sent
To us, from Heaven above.
TO A DIVERTED mOUlMTAHVl
STf^EAm.
Beautiful water, thou knowst not thy bourn,
Free and unfettered, thou erstwhile hast torn
Down from the solitudes, sombre and wild.
Born of the moorland, their bright wayward child.
Life of the mountains! with rippling tone
Singing to virginal grandeur alone;
Bounding at random by moorland-rock side.
Here thou wert narrowing, there thou wert wide.
Flowing in purity, mountain-born s])ring.
Freedom thy birthright, sweet undetiled thing :
Wand'ring untrammelled where few feet have trod.
Nearer than us to the regions of God.
None but the sheph-rd, and grey agile sheep.
List to thy music while mounting the steej) ;
Knowing thy source, is amongst th(Mr delights.
U]i on the breezes-kissed, dusky-broweil heights.
PASTORAL rOEMS. 37
Hither for af,a's thy pathway has l)een^
Down throug-h lone peat-mosses, purph- and j^'reen :
Summer's sweet hi-athcr-holls. Winter's white shrourl,-
l.(jnj;" hast thou mirrored the sunshine and chiud.
Down thiou^h the wilderness, streamlet till now,
All unmolested has man let thee flow, —
Wholly unfettered, thy .ylory complete.
Nursed in the lap of the heather so sweet.
Bahblin;.,'' alons.j' in thy natural glee.
jMakini,'- thy track to the far-away sea :
l-ongini^" to join it. nor dreamin;;- that man.
Here would arrest thee, atid alter thy plan.
Beautiful streamlet, but what has he done?
Made thee a channel, in which thou shalt run !
Shackled thy movements, and alterefl thy course,
Put thee in service, and felt no remorse ! —
Bound thee to flow in conventional form, —
Never to swerve at the call of the storm, —
Never to dance, nor diverg^e at thy will. —
Stray in thy windings, to sport with a rill. —
Made thee to g"lide in a civilized way,
Straight 'tween two walls, with no prosjiect of play;
Poor mountain ri\ult;tl I with a sigh.
Dropped for mans selfishness, hifl thee good-bye.
SUmOlER DAYS.
All Nature now with smiles enwreathed,
Looks on her work with tender g^a/.e ; —
Breathes frag"rance o'er these summer days.
Expands her Ijlossoms all unsheathed:
Reveals rich beauties just conceived.
I'o those who worshi]) at her feet.
Benig-n her faci- with charms replete :
Enchanting- are the songs she's breathed.
Naught c.ui surpass thesi' dreamy days !
38 POKMS BY CHARLOTTE OATKS.
But far too soon they pass us by,
Like all earth's thing's each flower decays
You grow to love them, then they die ;
Enjoy them now, ere they are past —
Sweet summer days, too fair to last !
TO fl BIRD.
Birdip:. where art thou ? —
Dost thou know where ?
Perched on that message-line.
High in the air.
Singing- so charmingly
Up on the wire ;
Trilling and warbling,
Higher and higher.
What if the telegram
Flying along,
Twines with its sentences
Thy little song.?
Rods are vibrating.
Words quiver down
To the fine gentlemen,
Far in the town.
When they receive them.
What will they say.
If with their business,
Ming-les thy lay.''
Sweet little minstrel,
Strange things combine ;
Science and Nature,
Often entwine !
THE mOORLiA^DS.
On the dreary northern moorlands.
Stretching; out so wide and far ;
There it is 1 love to linger,
Where no human dwellings are.
l'\^|iiK\| i'o|M<. 39
When the piercinjj- wind is l)lo\vinjL,'-,
And the sky is dark anfl flrear.
Let me wander on the moorlands.
Where no kindred form is near : —
Wander where the waving" heather.
Sweet nf)(\ wild, has there its home.
Looking' in the sad'nin^- autumn.
Rich with bronze and purple bloom.
(Jn the wide e.\pansi\e moorland.
There as far as eye can see,
All is barren, sa\e the heather,
And the hardy bilberry,
ring-ed with russet, sombre-shaded.
Grand and solemn, vast and bleak.
All among- the haunts of wild-l)ird^
Is the spot my footsteps seek.
Oh, 'tis there I love to wander.
Where few human feet have trod ;
Far from man. I feel not lonely, —
Feelinsr nearer unto God !
THE AFTERCUOLU.
How lovely is the opening: morn,
When gorgeous colours flush the east ;
Then, over fields ol yellow corn.
The lirilliant orb of day
Shoots forth a gleam of golden light ;
And as our dreams take flig'ht at dawn,
So melts beneath the sunshine bright.
Tht^ puri)l<,' mist auay.
Yet what appears more beauteous still,
Is when it sinks away to rest.
And slowly drops behind the hill.
When white with purest snow:
And what to me is swet-ter far,
The g^lcjrious light that comes between
The fiaylight and the evening' star —
The transient afterglow.
40 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE OATES.
'Tis even so with life ; we know
That childhood is both sweet and fair;
And rosy as the morning''s glow,
That teems with fresh'ning' balm:
When Truth and Innocence are theirs —
These little sisters who are twins :
The noontide's heat, man's prime and cares --
And age, the twilight calm.
'Tis hallowed as that evening" time —
Reflections of a well-spent life :
When beauteous locks, like snow and rime,
Lie on the ample brow.
When Heaven seems near, and earth seems cold.
Life's lig'ht is chastened and subdued ;
Its sun has set, and we behold
The peaceful afterglow !
And thus, the verdant spring- is sweet.
When blossoms fling' their scent around :
Its advent we rejoice to g"reet. —
The promise of the year.
But when fulfilled, and on the trees,
The luscious fruit hang's rich and ripe ;
The autumn's mellow beauties these.
Can spring' with it compare ?
When Time the thoug'htful brow has prest.
And left his impress there, life's work
Is done ; and evening-'s twilig^ht rest
Sweet mem'ries can bestow :
It owns a charm which youth may crave, —
A splendour all unknown before :
Age softens, as it nears the g'rave, —
'Tis life's sweet afterglow.
THE LiflST SIGH OF summEi^.
I HEARD the last sigh of the summer,
As it swept through the liurnished leaves,
And over the silvery streamlet,
Then it died 'moncr the o'olden sheaves.
PASTORAL rOEMS. 4 1
I hcar<l thf last rustle of summer.
As softly it ;;,''li(lccl away —
The trail of its beautiful j^arments,
As it passed by the jasmine spray.
1 felt the sweet spirit of summer,
It breathed in the scent-laden breeze; —
Ihe song" of the birds in the woodlands.-
The music that played in the trees.
It stole throuufh the fast-fading;- g-arden.
And threw its sweet kisses around ;
On fruit that was han<jing- in clusters,
On woodbine that trailed on the g-round.
It lingered awhile with the flow'rets,
And murmurerl in tones of regret ;
Their faces were drooping and tearful —
The roses anfl sweet mignonette.
It seemed as if loth to resign tliem —
To leave them alone in the cold ;
In the hard cruel grasp of the winter,
Whose fingers are shrivelled and old.
I heard the last voice of the summer,
As it whispered its fond farewell :
Then dying away in the distance.
It hushed in the charm-hiiunted dell.
I saw the last smile of the summer,
It spread o'er the heathery hill ;
And peered through the mist in the \alley.
Where Nature sat gloomy and still.
It dreamily beamed on the landscape.
Whose foliage soon would be dead :
And then when the darkness o'ershadowed. —
I felt that the summer had fled.
EVEr4TlDE.
1 LovK to walk at eventide,
Beside the placid river :
And watch the boats upon its tide-
And seethe aspen quiver —
POK.MS r>Y CHARLOTTE GATES.
Quiver in the evening" breeze,
That comes from off the stream,
Whose brink reflects the aspen trees,
Beneath the sun's last i^eam.
I love to rove at eventide,
Down in the ij'rassy meadows;
And see the cattle as they bide.
Among" the cooling- shadows.
I love to roam by marshy swamps,
So thick with Ijending" reeds ;
And see afar the gipsies' camps,
In g-reen and rush}' meads.
"Tis sweet to walk at eventide,
Where g"olden g"rain is growings;
When song-birds in the bushes hide,
And winds are gently blowing- : —
Waving- the rich corn to and fro,
When evening's sun is setting' —
The shadows length'ning- as I go,
All earthly cares forgetting.
But sweeter far at eventide,
I love the lonely wood ;
To quietly 'mong the brackens glide.
And mark each closing- l)ud.
To hear the night-birds' shriek on high.
And nightingale so sweet;
Warbling his notes unto the sky.
Within his wild retreat.
HAROliD PAl^K, LiOLU mOOt^.
Wkli.! can this really Ijc the place
That I in childhood used to know.
Where "mong the l)are black hills of shale,
Nought but the golden g-orse would grow?
I'ASTORAL I'OKMS. .J 3
ll is ihc same, l)ul oh ! how changed.
For verdure now crowns every spot ;
'I'he w ltd and barren moor of old,
We now may seek, l)ut find it not.
A thoughtful fairy might have been
And touc^hed it with her magic wand.
For ornamental lakelets clear,
Now drain what once was swampy land.
The broad expanse of water there,
All wavy, like a mimic tide ;
I'pon its ri|>pling surface bright,
Sui-h dainty boats now gaily glide.
And lovely flowers now deck the sward.
Arranged with true artistic skill :
While variegated foliage bright,
Adorns each verdant slo]:)e and hill.
Here, toiling ones, when work is o'er,
May find repose in shady bowers ;
And have their senses charmed the while,
With music, and the scent of flowers ;
And in the sunmier sail the lake,
To court the breeze, or warm sunlight;
I n winter test its crust of ice,
With all a skater's fond delight.
Wnt what is treasured most of all,
This polished granite column here —
.\ fit memorial fount to one
Whose honoured name is graven there.
riiat name is blest, thro' him that sleeps,
The ruggefl waste has been refined :
in everything" around we see
His generous hanrl, and noble mind.
When on the shifting sands of time,
III' left behind a golden mark
Which fadeth not ; for this fair spot,
Xn\\ bears the name of 'HaroM Park."
44 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
ODE TO THE mooN
O (;e.\ ii,E Moon, sweet tjfuardian of the ni.s;"ht,
Pour down on earth thy flood of lustrous. lij;-ht ;
Illuminate the firmament on hig"h,
And fill with lig"ht the blue o'erarchingf sky.
Shed on these plains thy soft and dusky ra\",
Let thy rich light the darkness chase away.
Smile down, sweet Moon, upon this world of ours.
Bathe these wild valleys all bedecked with flowers,
With thy sweet light, so p'acid and so clear —
Thy mellow rays that are so welcome here.
O'er Nature's face thy faithful vigil keep.
Watch o'er each little flow'ret while asleep.
Shed on this earth thv glorv from afar.
Outshine in splendour every little star.
Smile on, fair Moon. I love thy streaming light.
Serenely sott ; so sad, and pale, yet bright.
The fleecy clouds so swiftly pass thee by —
Obscure thee for a moment from the eye :
And all is changed again from lig-ht to shade.
Till once more thou appearest o'er the glade :
Unfettered from the clouds, thou seemst to shine
More dignified and lovely every time !
O beauteous Orb ! thou full and splendid Moon,
Gem of the heavens, and to earth a boon ;
Cast down on us thy tranquil, soothing- light.
From the ethereal regions calm and bright.
Thou wanderer in the far celestial sphere,
O brightly beam upon us mortals here.
Shed thy soft light from vale to mountain steep,
y\nd keep thy watch o'er thousands while they sleep.
O silvery Moon ! thou source of light on high,
A halo round thee in the midnight sky:
And far removed from meaner things on earth.
With stars thy kindred, yet of smaller worth :
Thy courtiers, through heavens' boundless plain ;
A momcni. seen, now lost, then seen ag'ain ;
The silvery clouds come ((uietly floating by.
Like massive icebergs sail the azure sky.
I'ASrOKAL I'Ol MS. 15
But thou the hrii^-htcst, richest ^em of all.
let on earlli thy beams so softly fall.
A mystery to man, and ever will.
We try to solve thee, yet are baffled still.
We only know this planet thou dost lij^^ht
At fj-ivon j)eriods, with thy beams so briy-ht.
On slumber smilest. beauteous and sublime,
As i^-lorious now as in the ol(K;n time.
In i)eace and unmolested silence, thou
Dost move, and flin^est ylory here below.
A Rein^- so hij^h and holy <,'-uides thy course,
We know not whence thy splendour has its source :
Thy mild l)riLiht orb re\'eals to us at least.
Thy patli throug^h ilie meridian from the east.
Describes a semicircle to the west.
Where peacefully thou sinkest to thy rest.
An unseen Hand Divine controls thy sphere,
1 love thy sacred li;^^ht so calm and clear;
Queen of the ni^j-ht I oerlookin.o; woo<l and dell,
Solemn an<l ''rand — ah. more ihan words can tell I
m00l^UAr4D Ar4D SEA
I I was a bri^'ht Sei)tt:mber,
In ;;;"olden harvest time,
I souu^ht the lonely moorlands —
The heath was in its ])rinn'.
Their beautiful projjortions
Rose hiLfh above the sea ;
And stretched in solemn g-randeur.
Expansive, wiM, and free.
As they for <i'enerations
Have been, so are they now :
As known to our forefathers—
I^ach purple-tinted brow.
They're yet as God hath made them,
So rug-gcd and sublime ;
And still in all their ,glor\'
Defy the stroke of time.
4-6 POKMS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
Man's hand has ne'er molested
Each undulating- steep,
Where heather blooms unheeded,
And bilberry bushes creep.
x\nd when the bright Aurora,
Fling's ope' the g^ates of morn.
Each dewy head receiveth
The first faint flush of dawn.
And when the sun at evening
Slopes down into the west.
It kisses last the moorlands,
Before it sinks to rest.
I plucked a sprig- of heather,
So rich in pur|)le bloom,
And took it from its birthplace
To my sweet woodland home :
Where flowers bloom in fragrance,
Unknown to heather bells,
And g-row in wfld profusion
In verdant shady dells.
But soon 1 left my homestead,
And soug'ht the bright seaside.
Where I in peace mig^ht wander.
And watch the restless tide.
l'here"s beaut}' in its waters,
Sul)ject to no control :
The music that it murmurs
Is soothing" to my soul.
A mtghty moving' mystery.
As if a sjjirit chaste,
Breathed in the crested billows.
Of that wild surging waste.
<)f unc<)n( (ucrable waters,
()be}ing n(.)t man's will :
But calmed it once when Jesus
Said softly, '' Ftuce, be siill."
I'ASIORAL I'UKMS.
As 'twas in ag"es olden.
'Tis yet, as fresh as frei- ;
So will it roll for ever —
As long- as time shall be.
I took the sijrig' of heather
I'd brought from far awa\-,
And bathed it in the ocean
That tossed with snowy spraw
A voice then in a whisper
Said softly unto me : —
''It is as if the moorlands
Had bowed to kiss the sea!"
HORLUOOD CREEH.
A Ri RAL village. (|uaint and old.
Stands in the north of Eng-land Ijold,
Among- the hills so rich and gTeen,
Where shining waters wind betwei-n.
A sweeter spot can ne'er be found,
Where fresh and verdant dales abound :
And watered thus by many a stream.
The valleys are a deep dark g-reen.
Where sweet wild flowers love to irrow.
Among" the long- grass nestle low:
And in the thickly wooded steej)s.
The ivy round the oak tree creeps.
A beautiful, romantic spot.
With here and there a low thatched cot
P)uilt on a slope of cultured green —
Gives life and beaut}- to the scene.
The straw) )erry plants with runners crin-p.
And blossom on tht' sunn\- steep;
Each cot, some peasant's much-loved home
Where lovel\- flowers brightlv bloom.
And g'aily deck the window pane
That i>eeps into the old green lane.
48 P0E3IS BY GHARI.OITK DATES.
The honeysuckle 'round the bower
Is twined amongf the sweet-pea flower.
The rustic owns his humble cot,
And well-trimmed, pretty gfarden plot.
The village is a peaceful nook,
So still, by meadow, wood, and brook.
That ripples on so g^ay and free,
And dances in its very g-lee.
No noise disturbs the meads so still
Save one, from yonder old grey mill.
Its water-wheel goes splashing round,
With reg'lar, rumbling, drowsy sound.
J'he stream, with rural bridge across.
Its walls bedecked with softest moss.
The little school stands on the hill- —
The village green, so quiet and still ;
A simple, unpretending place.
Old Time has left on it a trace :
And there upon the Sabbath day.
The little children wend their way.
Such is the spot my father loved,
In youth where he so oft hath roved;
That house in ruins and forlorn.
The very place where he was born !
Where he was reared, and lived in youlli.
Beneath that ancient, green-grown root.
The hillock where he oft hath ])laye(l
Beneath the oak tree's spreading shade.
Old tree, if ihou to me could'st speak,
And tell the tale that I would seek :
Ye scenes of all his early youth.
If ye could tell to me the truth:
Could this green turf a tale reveal,
'Twould tell me of his early weal —
The ])lace that knew him as a boy,
The scene of all his youthful joy.
Their tide of memory back would flow.
And teil a tale ot years ago.
The hearts that knew him then are gont--,
His house is desolate and lone.
The hands that him in youth caressed
Are in the churciiyard, laid at rest;
I'ASIUKAI. 1'OK.MS. 49
And many in this country spot
Have passed away, and are forg^ot ;
Have lived their uneventful time,
Some died in years — some in their prime ;
ThcN- in the out-world were not seen.
But lived content upon the " Green."
The little churchyard now contains
Their mortal clay that still remains.
Noui^ht but a tablet now is seen
To tell the strang-er they have been.
With l)ut the simple words inscribed.
To tell that they have lived and died;
And even those that know them best
Have ceased to weep for tho^(' at rest.
A DECemBEt^ ROSE.
[O/i (I soli/ary rose being found bloominv:; in J)(C<mht:r "n a
little girV s grave^
When Winter's hand lay icy cold
Upon the woodlands and the hills,
And in his grasp the streams were locked,
And mute were little wayside rills,—
The old graveyard was lone and drear
Upon that dark December day ;
The Frost King touched the withered leaves,
And glittered on the tombstones grey.
1 wandered in. I know not wh\-.
In listless mood I love to tread
And meditate, where silence guards
The cheerless precincts of the dead.
I came upon a little grave.
Wherein there lay a sleei)ing child :
I stood entranced, for there, I)ehold I
A lovely rose upon me smiled.
A beauteous red December rose,
Whose perfume filled the frosty air:
II bloomed alone, amidst decay.
For all around was bleak and bare.
50 POEMS 15Y CHAKLUTTE OATES.
It blushed that I had found it dared
In winter-time itself reveal ;
And through those petals sweet, I felt
The child's own soul to mine appeal.
It l)ravely bore the biting frost.
And seemed to me a sacred thing,
To show that from the deepest gloom
Of death and winter, life can spring 1
An emblem of the child's jiure soul.
And of its lo\e, and faith, and trust ;
The flower it loved in life must needs
Clrow there, above its mortal dust.
"Twas Hfe in death, and seemed to be
All that a little child would crave.
Whose life was brief, whose death was sweet
As that lo\ed flower upon its grave.
A symljol of immortal life —
The hope that puts to flight all fears :
Clear crystal drops stood on that rose :
If angels weep, those were their tears !
That jirecious flower a sign may be,
Which they have sent to us in lo\e,
']\) tell us that her spirit now
Lives fair as it with them above.
Or is it that the winter rose
From Paradise was dropt below
F'rom off her crown, to let us know
That they have decked that darling-'s brow .
THE UUHAH I^AIjSiBOUU.
i.o ! this evening there appeareth
In the starry, moonlit sky,
A lieautiful, mysterious token,
Spanning a vast cloud on high.
I'ASTORAr. I'OKMS. %l
Lo\ely is the bow by dayli^j^ht,
Rut a sweeter sig-ht by far
Is that mi.Lcht}' lunar rainbow.
Rriijfht as every silv'ry star.
Can it be the faintest shadow
Of that brii^ht arch far above :
0"er the shinint;, golden portals,
I.eadin<,'" to the Throne of hove .^
Know we not. and in not knowinyf
Feel God's g-reatness doul)lel'old :
There it is, in strantre, sad splendour
I'dr His people to behold.
THE FlF^ST SNOOi OF UJINTEP^.
Ai.i, is silent this mornin;;', no footsteps I hear —
There's a bri<;'hter reflection, so sparkling" and clear;
1 look through the window, my heart gives a thrill,
I'"or the Hrst snow of winter lies thick on the hill .'
How lovely the sight of the snow-wreaths antund !
A spotless white cover spread over the ground :
With feelings enraptured, my heart all aglow. —
I ga/e on the Ix-autiful, heaven-born snow.
The sight of the snow recollections has brought,
How I watched itwhenyoung, withthisinnocentthought,
•' Is it the ang'els in Heaven that fling"
Soft feathers to earth from each beautiful wing ? '
When fresh from the reg^ion above us, the snow,
Too pure it would seem, for us mortals below:
A car|)et of cr)stal, by ang'els outspread.
Too cha.ste is the drift to pollute with our tread.
^'es, fair is the sight t)f the snow to mine eves,
As it gleams in its splendour 'neath sunshiny skies :
Untrodden, untainted, it lies on the hills : —
Then melts and commin".^les with mountain-born rills.
52 POKMS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
But what is the sight of the snow to the poor ?
Who shiver, half famished, half clad, at the door ;
To such, the cold season of snow-flakes and rime, —
Is a pitiless, cruel, unmerciful time !
To those that are poor let us offer our aid,
And lighten the burdens that on them are laid ;
A gift will enliven their homes we may know.
And help them to bear with the winter's first snow.
Our Father in Heaven, looks down from above,
And rewardeth good deeds with His blessing and love
To give will relieve, and make glad the reciever, —
But happier far is the heart of the giver !•
flATUf^E'S mELiODlES.
I HEAR her songs in babblinii- rills,
But grander far to me than these ;
Is that deep strain,
With sweet refrain, —
The music of the wind-swept trees !
The mighty monarchs swing" their arms,
Reverberate like breaking seas ;
The sweetest sound
In Nature found —
The music of the wind-tost trees !
Anon she chants a low response,
As if her child she fain would please;
A soothing tone,
Sweet, when alone,--
The music of the wind-kissed trees !
Oh I drowsy lisp of rustling leaves,
As they are playing with the breeze;
That lulling song
I've loved for long —
The music of the whispering trees !
PASTORAL rOEMS, 53
For when I hear those plaintive rhcjrds.
My memory back to childhood flees ;
That dream-time floats
In those soft notes, —
The music of the wind-stirred trees 1
Wild forest music! wafted here.
Its beauteous source its lover sees ;
Throug-h branch and boug-h,
Come anthems low,—
The music of the wind-swayed trees !
Rlest Nature's sweet melodious voice.
1 mark each chang^e throuyh all deg-rees ;
To her I cling-.
And 'neath her wing-
I hear her music in the trees I
THE FROZEN B^OOKLiET.
Little brooklet w h\- hast thou
On this morning- ceased to flow ?
Dost thou wait a gleam of sun
To kiss thee, ere I see thee run ?
Pretty little crj-stal stream,
Waiting for a warmer beam ;
And I miss thy music sweet, —
Like a heart forg-ot to beat.
Frost-bound brooklet, thou would'st say
" I slumber till a milder da\-, —
Then, my little silvery song-
Will be heard the woods amonii."
O"
Rest thee, water, rest in sleep.
By the lovely snowy steep ;
Rest in peace and beauty thou.
Till smiling nature bids thee flow
54 POEMS BY CHAKLUTTK GATES.
^OYDS HAIili.
1 LOVE to look on thee 1 Though g-rey-gTown by time.
Yet seemest thou still in thv beauty and prime :
Looking serene in the moonlight so calm.
And tall trees around seem to highten thy charm ;
Nestling among all those stately old trees,
That whisper soft music when stirred by the breeze.
Herein a fair maiden who loved thee was born,
Her sweet childish presence thy halls did adorn ;
Along with her brother, a bright noble boy,
This home of their childhood were wont to enjoy.
Oh, oft have I gazed in the silence of night,
Upon thy bold structure, with windows alight;
And thought of long centuries all passed away,
How hands that have built thee are gone to decay.
Thoug'h ancient thou art, yet I honour thee more.
Thou recallest the past, the old days that are o'er ;
Since then in thy glory, thou firmly hast stood,
Surrounded by acres of pasture and wood.
The house of the manor so long hast thou been.
The pride of the country so fertile and green.
Two cent'ries and more thou hastsmiied on the spot.
Where strife, and the turmoil of labour are not :
O'erlooking the parks, that extend far and wide,
Away to a distance on every side.
On an eminence stood, in the midst of thy ground,
Where the rabbit and leveret so joyously bound —
In their antics and gambols so full of delight,
At dawn of the morning and dusk ot the night :
In solitude oft have I watched them at play.
Beside the wild wood at the close of the day.
Nearly hid by the trees, I can see thee, Old Hall,
With thy evergreens high, and thy ivy-clad wall ;
Thou seemest to guard the wild woodland and hill.
And lovely green valley, so lonely and still.
And all is so tran(|uil, no sound to be heard,
Save the bay of the dogs in thy spacious court-yard ;
That echoes around as so loudly they bark.
Or the ring of thy bell that resounds in the dark.
I'ASlilKAI. I'dl MS. 55
A venerable link with past ag-es art thou,
We for thy anti<|uity cherish thee now:
The i)anels of oak in th\' old-fashioned hall,
Accord with thy massive and time-honoured wall.
E'en once a tribunal, where scenes have occurred. —
The sentence in justice, thy old rooms have heard ;
Bucolic offenders ajjproached thee with awe,
Obeyin-y the summons for breakinj^ the law.
• "irand solid old mansion 1 with nail-studded door,
Thou storms hast defied, and wilt brave memy more;
fhoult smile on those hills to the South and the West,
When 1 in my g-rave shall be sleeping- at rest '.
THE rlAmE IH THE SHOUU.
My dear young friend, thou has written thy name
On this beautiful white and spotless mound
Of fair untrodden snow;
So pure and chaste, and without a stain :
It is traced in characters clear and round,
That all may see it now.
And may th\' name in years to come
Be traced as i)ure on a clear white page
Of Life's mysterious book ;
When thy days on earth are nearly done,
Thi'n nuiy'st thou in thy mellow age
With honour backward look,
On the name thou hast left, as unsullied as this
Thou has marked by the path in the snow so white.
And vet unlike it too ;
Not dissolve in the earth, as when warm sunbeams kiss
The snow-name, and take all its characters bright
For ever from our view.
And tho' to the dust shall thy body be placed, —
Shall sink like the snow to the depths of the earth,
No moi'e to meet our sight :
l^ut may the name thou hast carefully traced
l^e left behind as a i)roof of its worth —
A i^ure and constant light.
56 POEMS BY CHARLOTTK GATES.
SABBATH BELilJtS.
Hark ! the Sabbath bells are rineinsf,
Silvery sweet upon the air ;
Welcome invitations flinging"
Round the villag"e everywhere.
Oh ! what memories awaken,
With those pealing" villag"e bells ;
Hearts and home that now forsaken,
As the music softly swells.—
Come before me as I listen,
Fresh as if 'twere yesterday :
Till my eyes with teardrops g"Iisten.
Called by scenes long" passed aw a\-.
I have heard them oft in childhood.
And the past comes back ag"ain :
When I first within the wild-wood
Listened to their sweet refrain.
Why should solemn thoug-hts come stealing"
At those sounds of peace and love .•'
Striking" on some latent feeling",
Stirring- thoughts of Heaven above.
Fancy sees the white-haired preacher
Standing" in God's house of prayer :
Sent by Him, a holy teacher,
Speaking words of comfort there.
He, with earnest voice impressive,
Pointing" through ihe darkness, light :
Shewing us to be submissi\e —
Teaching" words of truth and right.
I can see the old and weary.
Stooping 'neath the weight of years ;
Treading" in life's path so ilreary,
Going to church to kneel at prayers.
rASTOKAI. POi MS. 57
Then I see the youn^^f and careless. -
Youth and hojie .yoinuf hand in hand
Moving" with a step so fearless,
Sing"ing" of the anjj'el Land.
All are bowed with solemn feelint;'.
When they hear the Gospel truth.
That the preacher is reveal in. t:;".
Pleading" for old ag'e and youth.
Such are visions floatinj.!f o'er nie.
As I hear the Church bells ring- :
Sweetest scenes will pass before me,
That the Sabbath l)ut can bring'.
I love their soothing- peal at even', —
Ring" away ye peaceful bells —
Speaking- but of love and Heaven,
Where in bliss the white soul dwell.^.
LUlHTEf^.
Who says Winter owns no beauties ?
To adorn its darkling days,
Bright attractions it possesses.
In a hundred difVerent ways.
Ever 'tis to us revealing-
Glories that were veiled before :
Nature shows us. though she's sleeping-.
Charms from out her boundless store :
Sets before us countless beauties.
Crystal tears her sky now weeps :
( dittering- frost-gems, virgin snow-drifts,
While the tedium as slie sleeps.
Who can see, unmoxed. the splendours.
Winter g-ives us in the dell .- —
hlowing cascades turned to crystals.
Mute and shimmering" as they fell !
I'Ven its fierceness owns a g"randeur.
While its skies in veng"eant'e lower :
58 rOKMS 15Y CHARLOTXK UATKS.
In the storm-cloud is reflected.
And revealed, a God-sent power.
To the poor and ag'ed only,
Winter is a cruel time ;
Shivering" with its frost-breath hoary,
Dreading all its snow and rime.
Such as these are ours to succour.
All who can, our blessing's share —
Make them feel that g^ood old Winter
Brings its joys, if well they fare.
Out-door pastimes, such as skating,
Hearty youthful friends enjoy :
'I'hen its moonlit, star-gemmed heavens.
Offer charms without alloy.
And its long' and cosy evenings.
Are beloved, and never pall ;
Study-time, or social g'athering"s.
Bring' delights to one and all.
Winter ever will be welcomed
By the children, sweet and fair.
In its midst old Christmas hoary,
Comes to crown the dying year.
THE DAYS RHE RLiU fllilKE,
There's no blossom on the black-thorn,
There's no music in the rill ;
But its waters are asleef)ing'.
With the blig'hting- wintry chill.
There is snow upon the hilltops,
And no leaves upon the tree ;
And the days seem all alike. Mother
They are all the same to me.
For my heart is sad and lonely,
Yet I cannot tell you why ;
But it seems asinking slowly,
Like yond drooping", heavy sky.
pASioKAi. i'«»i;m>;. 59
I'Or my life is dull and dreary,
I have lost my li.y'htsome g'lec ;
And the days seem all alike, Mother-
I'hey are all the same to me.
The storm-cock in the distance
Is complaininLT to the morn,
I can hear him whistle shrilly.
On yonder old dead thorn.
And the bitter wind is sweepin^^"
Across the barren lea :
And the days seem all alike, Mother-
They are all the same to me.
Tho' I have not had a sorrow,
And I ha\e not had a care,
Yet the weig^ht that presses on me,
.Seems more than I can bear.
And I long- for you to cheer me,
And to set my spirit free;
For the days seem all alike. Mother—
They are all the same to me.
THE SHOCUDROP.
Tin land rejioses, garbed in angel white.
A nlyri^ul snow-gems 'neath the noonday sun
Are scintilating ; few ha\e yt^-t begun
To rn|uify beneath the radiant light.
Thus while stern Winter's hand onzones the earth,
And .Xature's shielde<l life-germ ealnily sleeps: —
Lo I through the ground a pale-faced lloweret peeps.
As white as if the snow had .gi'en it birth :
Pure, silent courier of the coming .Spring,
Uprising 'mong the gleaming- crystals here ;
Its holy mission surely is to cheer,
For new-born hopes round those fair petals cling :
The lovely snow«lrop from its cold white bed.
To give Gods messagi-, lifts its <laintv head I
60 POEMS BY CHARLOTTK OATliS.
THH mOUflTAIflEEH'S S0]4G.
I WOULD not leave my native hills
For all the wealth the land can g"ive ;
They're more than all the world to me.
Where I was born, I wish to live ;
Secluded here, and be at rest,
Nor mingie with the city's strife ;
But climb my own, my native hills,
And live a happy, peaceful life.
I would not leave my native hills
For all the treasures you can bring- :
Then let me mount their dusky steeps,
Free as a bird upon the wing- ;
And tread their undulating heig^hts.
The heather springing- 'neath my feet,
Where the freshening- breath of heaven
Oft waves that russet mantle sweet.
I would not leave my native hills
When rich with autumn's purple g-low.
Nor when their beauteous, radiant brows.
Are crowned with purest crystal snow.
I love to see each noble ridg-e
Rise boldly 'g-ainst the azure sky;
Then let me dwell upon the hills, —
Where I have lived I wish to die.
AT l^ATUJ^E'S SHf^lNE.
A REVKRKNCK far too deep for words to tell,
I feel when I at lovely Nature's feet
Kneel humbly down : and unto her the while
Cast all my soul. Oh, g-lorious mother sweet
That erst has fostered me, her loving- child :
In all her pristine beauty unto me
Sh(> stands revealed : and through all time remains
Inviolate; and yet freely she responds
With her own plaintive mellifluous voice
To those who worship at her peerless throne.
And love to hold communion with her soul.
I'ASTOKAI. I'd I .MS. 6 1
Throuyh sylvan i^lons and ilim-lit (ori--t aisles,
i hear her womlrous \va\us ot music sweep
In anthems j^rand ; then lisp in whisperini;' limes
A soothing' monody, that softly falls
Upon the senses like a gently sung"
Swt-et lullaby, unto her clinging chiM.
That loves to nestle 'gainst her throbbing breast.
And draws its nurture from her yielding soil.
Then while she holds me in her soft embrace.
Th(?re breaks from her some wild e.\ultant strain ;
In jubilation swell triumphant sontfs,
And rhapsodies : in contact close she thus
Beguiles me with the witchery of her charms.
Anon in tcirtured, anguished tones she wails
In lamentation, when the troublous storm,
Disturbs her rest; and rends and racks her soul
Unto its centre ; as its withering- power
Bows down her head, and shakes her to the heart;
Thus with distorted visage she a|)pears
To me more worshipful.
All those who kneel at Nature's hallow'd shrine.
Adore the Diety ; and methinks when we
Cling- closely to her, we are nearer Heaven.
If I am sorrow-laden, I can throw
Myself upon thy mercy. Mother true ;
And rest my head in thy protecting arms.
And there pour forth into thy bending- ear,
The i)ent-up ang'uish of a stricken heart ;
And fmd in thee more solace than a hard
And cruel, grasping, hollow world can give -
Derive sweet succour from the soothing sound
Of purling streamlet, murmuring- through the gkule ;
Thus in thy lap, beneath the blackthorn bare,
Through which the cool and pure sweet evening bree/.e
Goes gently soughing', lulling me to rest,
1 find true peace.
Through every season she some charm reveals
To those that love her. What can there surpass
The hope-bound beauties of her vernal spring }
When from lethargic winter she bursts forth
In soft reiulgence, decked with garlands green.
62 POKMS BY CHARLOTTK OATES.
What in voluptuous splendour can approach
Her full-robed summer? when she sits enthroneil
In rich luxuriance. Nor when in autumn shu
With lowering- pulse, a brig-ht coronal wears
Of glowing' tints, upon her pensive brow.
In winter when she rests and dreams, her form
Half hid in virgin vesture, angel white.
Set off with rich and sparkling crystal g'ems,
Her divers changes pass in mystic waves.
Obeying unsolved God-made laws, that gird
And g-overn all the universe. But she
Unto her devotees is never harsh
Nor yet unsympathetic.
Howe'er her face denotes her passing mood
Divine she is, and to my soul appeals.
I feel that she a loving" message brings
From her own God. Through her His spirit Moats
O'er all the Universe. In various forms
She is the reflex ot His changeful will ;
She breathes to me in mellow'd tones sublime
Of His omnipotence. His spirit moves
In all her aspects : in her silvery mists
And rains benign, I trace His falling tears :
Depressed He is, and mourns, when heaxy skies
Droop o'er our heads. Then in the tempest's wrath
We mark His frown ; His ang"er doth iippall
When thunder echoes 'mong the solemn hilis :
And when His brow is cleitred, the clouds disperse
And show Jjeyond. the bright ethereal blue, —
In sunlight fair is mirrowed all His smiles ;
When day-beams on His children fall, we feel
His benison di\^ine.
UUHEN THE EVEHir4C LtAmP IS
LilCHTED.
When the e\('ning lamp is lighted
And our dear ones safe at ht)ir.i
hi one l)ond of lt)\'e united,
Welcome is the wintry yloom.
I'ASrOKAI. I'OK.AIS.
Hap|)\' are the hours f)f e\cnin^-
Sweetest tmie of all the <la\ :
When the thouc^hts of care and laltour
I'or a while are laid aua\'.
Scene of many an artless pleasure.
Is this sim[)le home of ours :
Memory owes a priceless treasure
To some lony" past evening hours.
Sacred is the dear old hearthstone.
Where we learn each other's worth :
'Tis a bright and faithful magnet, —
Dearest spot to us on earth.
Loving hearts are filled with gladness.
Mirth o'ei'llows in laughter sweet :
Oh ! nuiy never grief or sadness.
Conn- within our k)ved retreat
i.ove cements the bright home circle,
Hearts expand beneath its sway; —
Like the trees that gather mosses, —
(irow they richer day by day.
Fancy is at daytime hidilen,
Rut when lamplight hours draw nigh
'Tis unchained, and roams unbidden
As the daylight leaves the sky:
It is free to wander hither. -
Charm us, with its winsome wiles :
And a book our sole companion,
Oft the evening time beguiles.
Then we cf)urt the gentler Muses :
And a silvery halo clings
Round the light that lore defuses.
Making gems of meanest things.
Thus the cra\ing soul is feasted
With a sumptuous, sweet repast;
And upon our happy circle.
Thus a potent s|)ell is cast.
When our evening lamp is lighted.
It reveals a treasured ln)me :
To the \\(>aryone benighted,
'Tis a landmark in the gloom.
64 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE OATES.
Strife and discord ne'er invade us,
These we count our bitter foes ;
But the soul of peace surrounds us
With a sweet and calm repose.
sPHiriG.
Spring has come, with all its beauty
Fast unfolding" every diiy —
Come with all its lovely freshness —
Nature in her new array.
Mark each tiny bud unclosing"
From its pretty velvet case ;
Brought forth by the hand of Nature,
Each to its appointed place.
Peeping shyly at the daylight,
Half afraid to come at first.
Then when they are fully wakened,
Forth in all their beauty burst.
Nature dons her garb for summer —
All things seem so lively now ;
Note the pretty meadow flowers.
We can almost see them grow.
Tender shoots are now appearing
From the earth where they have hid ; —
AVhere for long they have been sleeping.
Coming forth when they are bid.
Plrst the pure and lowly snowdro]),
Ventures forth the Spring to meet ;
Next the primrose and the daisy,
Then the daffodil so sweet.
And when they are bathed with dewdrops.
How they glisten, pearly Itrightl
in the fresh and early morning,
And the cooler sh^ides of night.
rASToKAi. roK.Ms. 65
See the lair ami flowery meadows,
IVii^-htly clad in verdure g-ay ;
Nature smiles in all her .ijfladness,
Now that winter's passed away.
Hark I the little lambs are bleatin;^'"
In the pasture by the stream ;
With each other they are playing" —
'Neath the sun's revi\inijf beam.
All the neijtj"hbourin^- woods are ringing-
With the little wild-birds' son-^" ;
From each tiny throat comes trilling"
Notes of music all day long".
First, the homely robin-redbreast
Smgs so sweetly to his mate;
I'or we g"ave them crumbs in winter,
When they perched upon the g"ate.
Thc^n we hear the |)laintive cuckoo.
With its loud peculiar call :
Then the thrush, the wren, and linnet
Singing to each other all;
7\nd the gentle lark, ascending",
Sings its varied, tuneful lay:
I'o the skies its song "tis pouring,
As it soars from earth away.
Joyous song-birds — imitating —
Trying which can warble best;
Never weary of rehearsing —
Ne\er tnkc one day of rest.
Let us greet the lovely Spring-time ;
Nature looks so bright and fair;
Sweetest llowers and scented blossoms, —
P>ag"rance laden on the air.
We can trace the good Creator;
He has spread with lavish hand —
(liven new life to the drooping.
Scattered Ijcauty o'er thi' l.md.
66 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
Welcome, welcome, happy Spring-tide ;
Sweetes^t time of all the year ;
Rich in varie,i,^ate(l foliaye —
Beautiful beyond compare.
THE l^IGHTIjNiGALiE.
Beautiful warbler, singing in g"lee,
Perched on the bough of yon wide spreading tree ;
Trilling a song from thy little throat,
Gushing with music, its every note.
Songster of midnight, beautiful bird,
Through the wild glen is thy melody heard;
Soon as the moon takes her path through the sky.
Commences thy singing, so plaintive and high ;
When darkness descends, and the farm-yard is still,
And silence reigns over the valley and hill.
The Ijirds ot the wood are asleep and at rest,
'Tis now that thou lovest to warble the best.
Unmolested and free there to tune a sweet lay,
Preferring the silence of night to the day.
Beautiful bird, in thy lonely retreat,
Pouring- forth melody charming and sweet.
Queen of the songsters, sweet Nightingale,
Reigning supremely in the dark vale.
Now imitating the lark, or the thrush,
Untutored and free, and thy melodies gush,
In cadences sweet, at once thrilling and high.
With rich mellow notes that swell forth to the sky ;
Then dropping so suddenly low and yet clear, —
That falls in a whisper so sweet to the ear.
Again it drifts into a melancholy strain,
So piercing and wild, then is silent again.
Though mocking the other birds' every call,
Thine own silvery music surpasses them all.
Thy song is far sweeter to me than the rest,
Thou wild nightingale, with thy dusky brown breast.
Sweet serenader, when we are asleep, — •
P>idding them all to bo joyous that wee]).
PASTORAI, I'Mi \K. 67
Thy sweet thrillin.ij" song" jjutting- sorrow to flij^ht,
And cheerinj^'" the lonesome, deep silence of night.
1 love thee, sweet birdie, for singing alone,
VV hen woodlands, and valleys, and hills are thine own.
Other birfls love to sing in llic day.
When all the wcirUl shinelh so bright and so gay ;
'i'hou choosest the holy hushed stillness of night.
When all the world round thee is peaceful and quiet.
Dcliirhting to sing amidst solitude free,
With no one to hear thee, and no one to see ; —
Xone l)ut the Master, who dwelleth on High,
Will hearken thee chanting th)- praise to the sky :
Sweet little minstrel, in thy delight-
Singing thy beautiful hymn to the night.
THE FIRST F^OSE OF sUmmEl^."
'Tis the first rose ot summer that dares to appear,
All suffused in the dew of an angel-dropt tear;
So modestly, timidly, it has displayed
Its xirg'inal charms, in their freshness arrayed.
But soon 'twill discoxcr that it was the first
To allow its fair petals from bondag"e to burst.
Nor must it then languish, but with us abide,
'Jill more of its sisters bloom there by its side.
We joyfully greet thee, thou dainty-lip'd rose;
It is cheering to see thy soft petals unclose ;
Fair emblem of love ! with romance ever bound.
And the essence of hope in thy bosom is found.
This message Irum Heaven thou truly dost bring"",
'I'hat summer has merged from the promise of spring;
The soul of it lies in thy beauty we see,
It breathes in the scent that thou bearest with thee.
How dar si thou e.xpand 'neath this weeping- grey sky.'
The sullen north-easter thou seem'st to def)',
So courage we find in thy lo\eliness dwells,
Tis but the unwise one. at fate that rebels.
68 POEJIS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
Stern Boreas will melt at this ravishing" sight,
Thy exquisite beauty he'll seek not to blight ;
Such trustful temerity can but disarm,
All vengeance will soften, he'll bow to thy charm.
Thou art faithful to Nature, thou beautiful flower,
She fulfills the commands of the All-seeing Power ;
And obeying her dictates, to her ever true,
Thou comest in season, be skies grey or blue.
Oh ! ling'er frail rose, till the sun shall appear.
To kiss thy young beauty, and dry up that tear ;
And when his warm rays on thy white petals shine,
'Twill enhance the loved charms that by birthright are
thine.
His smiles will disclose what we love in thee most, —
The splendours that none but the white rose can boast ;
Unequalled in purity; — fit to adorn.
The breast of the noblest that ever were born !
God's delicate handiwork ! lovingly drest
In nature's soft textures, the thought will suggest —
Oh, wert thou immortal ! why canst rhou not stay .'
Why beauty and perfume should yield to decay 1
This is thy brief mission, thou gem amongst flowers I
Thou harbinger sweet of the bright summer hours ;
As there in thy depths are the jewel-drops seen,
O'er all in the garden, to reign as their queen !
THE COU]^Tl^Y COTTAGE Glt^Li."
They seek to lure me from my home.
That I in London may abide;
They'd have me change my simjile life
For one of indolence and pride;
They know not, oh ! they know not,
The sacrifice t' would be ;
The dear ones in my cottage
Are all in all to me.
I'ASTOKAI. I'OEMS. 69
The town is never tran(|uil,
"fis one perpetual whirl ;
1 would turn my hrain I — Let me remain —
A country Cottage Girl.
Yes. they would have me leave this hum •
For yonder g^ay and splendid town ;
They'd have nie cast this cotton frock,
And don me in a satin gown.
They take me for a dreamer,
And think I long to go ;
They cannot guess my feelings, —
My heart the)-'!! never know :
I covet not tJK'ir riches,
The diatiKjnd or the i)earl,
They tempt not me, I'd rather be —
A humble Cottage Girl !
A child of freedom I am here,
No tow'ring walls obstruct my \iew
Of yonder ever changing sky.
And hills enwrapt in vapour blue ;
A landscape clothed in beauty,
Here lies before me far ;
The black domes of the city,
My view shall ne\er bar:
The music of the forests.
The streamlet's soothing' jiurl ;
Oh ! grant me these, if you would please —
A rustic Cottage Girl.
Ate those who live in pomp anil state
The hai)[iiest ones upon this earth ?
Ah no ! a yoke of care and grief
Oft burdens those of noble birth :
Some think such li\e for pleasure,
It cannot well be so ;
We know that rank is often
An heritage of woe.
And those who own their titles,
The Countess and the Earl. —
Of high degree, — may envy me —
The lowly Cottage Ciirl.
70 P0E3IS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
The tiara, and the royal crown,
Oft-times must weary heads adorn ;
And aching' temples throb beneath
The flashing gems so proudly worn.
If I had wealth and fortune.
But bound to join the strife,
And give up for the city,
My peaceful country life,
I could not then be happy,
My wealth from me I'd hurl ; —
The world ignore, and be once more —
A careless Cottage Girl !
They fain would show their gems of art,
And let me see their wondrous sights ;
They'd take me through the festive halls
Illumined with electric lights :
They vainly seek to make me,
In these my youthful days.
An artificial lady.
With studied, formal ways; —
To lounge within a carriage,
My fingers idly t'virl,
Would suit not me. I'd rather be —
An active Cottage Girl !
They say my ^ace is bright w ith bloom,
But from these cheeks would fiide the rose,
Were I to breathe the ball-room air.
And not till dawn seek my repose ;
They telt me I might marry
A man with purple blood;
What care 1 for the colour .•"
His luart may not be good;
Give me my faithful Gilbert,
Though but a village churl ;
He'll happy make, and ne'er forsake —
His little Cottage Girl.
Their costly treasures they may take,
I still will drav,^ from Niiture's store ;
I mark her every changing mood,
And read her tokens o'er and o'er.
PASTORAL I'OKMS. 7 I
I'he ruby and the sapphire,
May fiicinate the eye ;
Rut they are matchecl in splendour,
By hues that deck the sky;
Yet when the works of nature,
I g'ladly would unfurl :
The London born, would lau^h to scorn —
The simple Cottajj^e Girl.
No murmur of the world's unrest,
These woodland solitudes comes near ;
The breezes in sweet undertones,
Their secret i)laints breathe in my ear ;
I ne'er was made to dazzle,
I ne'er was made to charm ;
Unto my hi^h-born sisters
I freely give the palm ;
L ivill not be a lady,
Bedecked with many a curl :
My lot is best, (iods love hath blest —
A country Cottag"e Girl !
THE LUEST ailHD.
O Wesitrly Wind, of thee I would siny,
Bringing" a health-giving scent on thy wing:
From over the moors, and from off the sea.
Blowing thy fresh sweet breath to me.
O frolicsome wind from over the hill.
Rising and tailing, and coming at will ;
Wafting the smell of the gorse and the broom, [home.
Where sweet heather blooms, and wild-birds ha\i' their
From off the moorland upon thy wing.
Thou bearest the fragrance of heather and whin ;
I'urple an».l gokleii, tlicy blossom so wiM.
And known to none but the mountain child.
O Westerl)- Wind, with boisterous glee.
From off the Atlantic thou'rt blowing to me ;
Thou hast cross'il the deep, and kiss'd the spray.
And brought the ozone from far away.
72 POEMS BY CHARLOTTK GATES.
O Westerly Wind, so bracing- and free,
Bringing- the smell of the wild briny sea;
Zephyrus ! I love to feel thee blow,
Bringing a freshening healthtul glow.
O Westerly Wind, what music is thine —
/Eolian harps that are sweetly in chime ;
Now thou art racking- the boughs of the trees.
Then dropping again to a murmuring breeze.
O Westerly Wind, could I follow thy flight-
Be borne on thy wings through the day and the night;
Over the moorland, over the sea —
What would I give but to travel with thee !
THH CAf^DEfl.
They say that " love doth love beget,"
It seemeth so to me ;
A little bird I love so well,
Has built its pretty downy nest,
Upon the garden tree.
Does it, too, bear a love for me.
That makes it come so near .'
Why did it leave the woods and meads,
And build its home so close to mine,
To rear its nestlings here ?
It seems as if it knew full well
That I would be its friend ;
That I would shield its home from harm.
Protect it from the ruthless hand, —
Its little ones defend.
Then I will not betray the trust
It doth repose in me ;
But watch it with a tender care,- —
The precious gift thiit it has pUiced
For me, upon this tree.
I'ASTORAL rOKMS. 73
What made it l)uild its little nest
So near my cotla'i'e floor ?
k must have l»eL-n a link of love,
It knew that it wouM welcome be,
Which makes me love it more.
Who taught it how to weave its nesi
With moss and sihery thread ?
And l)its of our discarded lloss
Are twined among- this withered grass,
To make a soft warm bed.
It is a loving- Being- on High,
A mighty g-uiding power.
Who gives it instinct for it all,
And bids it when to soar and sing-.
And sleej) at midnig-ht hour.
And when I see the little birds
In beauty take their flight.
And soar on wings towards the sk\ ,
My kindest wish shall follow them,
When they are from my sig"lit.
And they'll awa)- to yonder wood,
Their happy song-s to sing":
Soon they will leave the parent home.
O'er vale and mountain as they soar,
Seek freedom on tlie wing-.
mOONLilT FbOOiERS.
Moon of the summer night.
Soft and subdued thy light.
Kissing- the roses white.
The while they sleep, —
Roses so rich and fair,
1* illing- the evening- air.
While ye are slumb'ring there.
With perfume sweet.
74 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
Softly the summer breeze,
Speaks to the moonht trees,
Plays with the cream-white leaves
Where dew-drops gleam.
Only to look at them !
Trembles each lir|uid g'em.
Poised on the mossy stem,
So crystal clear.
Down in the fair rose bower,
Drooping its head still lower,
Blushes the sweet-pea flower,
And clasps the rose.
With clinging' tendrils tine.
Lovingly they entwine,
Dew-jewelled flowers of mine,
This summer night.
After the sunshine warm.
Bathed in their nightly balm,
Wearing a fresher charm,
Beneath the moon.
Transient gifts from Heaven !
Scenting the breath of even ;
Would that to each were given
Perpetual life !
Taking its own sweet will.
Straying' along' the sill.
Into my chamber still,
Peeps one white rose.
Into the shadows deep.
Hither it fain would creep.
Bowing its head in sleep.
Against the pane.
Rose of a summer's day,
Born but to lade away ;
Frailer than mortal clay.
Ami lacks the soul.
I'ASroKAI. I'OKMS. 75
Whispers this dreamini,'' rose
Wrajil in its calm rejjose,
'■ 1 ime for the eyes to closf.
Good ni;;ht, g-ood nig-ht ! "
DAYBHEAK-
I STKAYKi) alonj4" the meadows,
When day bei^an to dawn ; —
As from the tiice of nature,
A curtain was being- drawn.
It moved away so slowly,
And then disclosed to view,
Sweet nature just awakened, —
Commencing' life anew.
Like jewels were the dewdrops,
Upon each blade of grass, —
Those jjlintinof g-ems were trembling-,
To wait each zephyr pass.
So lovely and transjuirent,
They beaded every spray.
And clung- to every floweret
1 passed upon the way.
The world as yet was sleeping',
The village all was still ;
The scene was sad and lonely,
The morn was cold and chill.
The mists were fast dispelling^
The sky was clear and g-rey ;
A fresh'ning- l)reeze was blowing'.
To usher in the day.
And by-and-by a birdie
I'eg^an to g-reet the morn,
1 heard it chirj) and twitter,
Upon the leafy thorn :~
It seemed to waken others.
In meadows all around ;
Thry called unto each other,
WHth sweet and merry sound.
And as I lingered long-er.
J'he sun began to rise ; —
76 I'OEMS BY CHARLOTTE OATES.
A lig'ht SO soft and rosy
O'erspread the eastern skies : —
And then a ball of crimson
Appeared upon the scene ;
It shone upon the hill tops,
And o'er the meadows green, —
Till Phoebus, bright and glorious,
Illumined heaven and earth,
And nature roused from slumber.
Was full of life and mirth.
The flowers op'ed their petals.
So softly one by one.
And smiled, amid the dewdrops,
To greet the morning- sun.
The little bees so busy,
Came near \vith humming sound.
And gathered sweetest nectar
From flowers all around.
Then came two village rustics,
The hour of toil had come ;
I bade g-ood-bye to Fancy,
And went towards my home.
They broke my meditation —
The village was awake ;
I hastened to my duties —
I'd watched the morning break.
And all was life and gladness
Amongst the fields ot corn ;
The birds were singing sweetly
Their carols to the morn.
1 turned and left the meadows,
When morn was in its prime;
I'd seen another instance
Of God's own hand divine.
TOillilGHT.
I TOOK a walk at twilight,
That loved and peaceful hour,
When dew is softly falling-
Upon each drooping- flower.
TASTORAL POKMS.
//
The day and ni<i;"ht were meeting' ;
Each moment 'neath m\' j^aze
The vale was ;4ro\\in;,'- dimmer,
Flnwrapped in purjjlc haze.
All steejjed in solemn silenct'.
Was tranr|uil, calm, and still ;
1 saw the distant villa;.ife.
And chur( h upon the hill,
With spire iiointini,'' upwards
Against the dusky sky;
And as 1 gazed upon it,
My bosom heaved a sigh.
For there my little brother,
Who diefl a lisping child,
Within that churchyard sleepeth,
Safe from a world defiled.
There others of my kindred,
Are ijuietly laid at rest; —
The sun's last rays had kissed them,
When sinking in the west.
1 felt alone with Nature ;
The busy world was still.
And all was sad and lonely.
The birds had ceased to trill.
The murmuring little brooklet
Went singings throug^h the glade,
'Twas all that broke the silence —
The music that it made
Then from that old church tower
I heard the chiming bell ;
So sweet and undulating.
As zephyrs rose and tell ; —
Its soothing sound came floating"
Tn waves ui>on the air;
Then all again was silent.
And Xature looked so iair.
The western skies were glowing
With mellow anil)er light ;
The day was sofil\' wanitig.
And mingling with the night.
The moon came slowly rising.
When vanished had the sun.
yS POKMS BV char[,ottj: gates.
And shone with chastened splendour-
The day its course had run.
I saw the stars come peepinj;-
Into the evening sky —
They one by one so brig-htly,
Lit up the heavens on hiyh.
Then in the far-off village,
The lights began to shine :
But in this spot secluded.
'Twas but the Hand Divine
That hung those lamps in Heaven.
And placed them at His will.
To light this glen setiuestered.
That slept so lone and still.
The day was gently dying,
A lull was over all —
A hush came over Nature,
To wait the darkness fall.
The dim grey light grew faintiir,
The night was stealing on ;
I stood alone in silence —
The day-sounds all were gone.
I watched the mystic changes
Come over Nature's face ;
The daylight had departed.
And moonlig'ht filled its place.
The trees in stately grandeur,
So tall and noble stood.
And formed a sombre background —
A dark and silent wood.
1 worship my Creator
When viewing' scenes like this :
I seem to feel His presenile,
The hours are full of bliss :
Him through His works I worshij),
I know His subtile j)Ower,
And feel so near my Maker
At twilight's restful hour.
.Subdued, and calm, and holy,
It holds a charm lor me :
It seems to whisjjer sortI\-, —
"Now let thy fancy free."
PASTURAI. I'OKMS.
NiCHT.
79
TiiK (lay is dont', and Nij^'-ht descends,
And spreads its shuk'ring" wiiij^' ;
It wraps the eanh beneath its fold.s.
And sweet repose doth hrin.tj;'.
The mist descends mysteriously,
And makes the j^rasses weep ;
'Tis Natures veil thrown over all,
That it may (luietly sleep.
Ni^ht has come, and darkness falls.
While Somnus holds his sway ;
Tran(iuillity sinks over all,
I'ntil another day.
The western liyht so softly g^lows
Upon the silence deep ;
The breath of heaven gently blows,
And lulls the flowers to sleep.
All is hushed, and silence rei<rns.
O'er all the land around,
Save the ni;^diting-ale's sweet strains.
To break the peace profound.
'Tis Nature in her solemn mood —
The silence of the night.
When stars look down so sad and calm.
And beam with twinkling- light.
All is peace, and Nature sleeps,
r)eneath the moonlight pale;
Rt pose is on the mountain steeps,
And in the lonesome \'ale.
The night was sent by God Above,
And ordained for the best ;
He. in His love and mercy, bids
Us sleep, and be at rest.
AUTUmjvi.
Goi.DF.x harvest time is jiast.
Soon will blow the wintry blast.
Autumn winds are sighini;
So POEMS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
Shorter g-rows the light of day,
Summer's flowers have passed away,
All its foliage dying.
Bright-hued leafage now we see
Ripe upon the forest tree,
Ouiv'ring, rich and mellow.
Changing is the woodland scene,
All that once was fresh and green,
Turning red and yellow.
Nature now has lost its bloom,
All things blighted, tinged with gloom,
Gone is Summer's gladness ;
Earthward fall the leaves away.
Where was life in now decay,
Wrapped in dreamy sadness.
Stubble fields bereft of corn,
Looking barren and forlorn
In the lonely gloaming.
We might weave a russet wreath
Of the scattered leaves beneath
Trees no longer blooming.
We are trampling 'neath our feet
Nature's leafy carpet sweet, —
On the ground reposing.
Peaceful Autumn, pensive, still,
Waits for Winter's touch to chill.
Now her reign is closing.
Fruit is garnered ; on the steep,
Web-entangled brambles creep.
Autumn's fragrance flinging ;
Yet some wild blackberries grow,
On those bushes trailing low,
To the thorn-tree clinging.
Birds that trilled in Summer time.
Go to seek a warmer clime.
O'er the wave retreating; —
They that sung so sweetly here,
Leave us till another year.
With the Autumn fleeting.
PASTORAL POKMS. 8 1
Mournful season of the jear.
Withered herhag'e, brown and sere;
Winter near advancing";
Lini,''*rini,'' flowers no perfume shed,
Only nuts and berries red,
Through the thicket .iflancing".
And a haz}' veil hangfs round,
Drooping- slowly to the ground,
In the swampy valleys :
All the lields look long and grey,
At the closing Autumn day,
As the twilight tarries.
Keen east wind around us creeps,
See I the low'ring- sky now weeps,
Summer's thirst 'tis ([uenching:
Raindrops make in yonder ])ool
Paddies in the water cool,
W'oods and meiidows drenching.
Wild -Eolus tunes his lays,
Mourning o'er the bygone days,
With a sad repining; —
Its sweet requeim chanting low.
For the Autumn's hectic glow.
Shows the year's declining.
Nature heaves a weary sigh,
Now her i^ummer charms must die.
To her couch she's creeping ;
Of all vernal beauty shorn
Is the garb she long- has worn.
She unrobes for sleeping".
How the swollen stream is sped I
O'er its clear and ston\- bed,
Kver tjuickly llowing:
On, to meet the mighty sea.
Careless in its course so free,
Whither it is going.
Wandering l)\- grassv slopes,
Through the dingle and the copse
And among the rushes :
82 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE OATES.
Onward, babbling" streamlet flow
Sweetly murm'ring', and thy low
Music seldom hushes.
Riv'let giving" life and sound,
To the landscape all around,
Where the ferns are growing";
Winding' where the twigs entwine
By the pastures, where the kine
Seek it, gently lowing.
Winter soon will wave his hand —
Cast his spell o'er all the land.
Trees their boughs be baring:
While we stroll the woods among',
Nature's kneeling', for her long
Winter's sleep preparing.
Autumn-time I love the best.
When all Nature sinks to rest,
Varied tints revealing;
So from lite, we too. must part.
Thus those tokens fill my heart,
' With a solemn feeling.
STAINS OF miDmcHT.
Stars of midnight, softly shining,
Would that ye could speak to me : —
Teli me of the far-off Heaven,
All its love and mystery.
Stars of Heaven, can ye answer.^
Smiling sweetly in the sky;
Like the light of happy angels,
Looking downward from on High.
Stars of Hea\en, 1 am lonely.
Standing on this desert earth ;
Tell me ot the great Jehovah,
From Whose power ye had your Ijirth.
PASTORAL roKMS. 83
Stars of midnisfht, hriirhtly beaming'.
In your sweet celestial honu.' ;
How I long- to come and join ye, —
Yearn to hear ye whisper " Come."
Stars of Heaven, all is stillness,
In the space in which ye move ;
Far above this world of trouble,
All your path is truth and love.
Stars of Hea\en, how ye glisten,
O'er a thousand different places :
O'er a host of people nio\'in<>-, —
Smile on their uplifted faces.
O ye stars in silent t;'t)i'y,
Reflex of the Spirit-land ;
Gems of beauty, like a studded
Diadem, in my Father's hand I
O ye stars, in solemn splendour,
How I love to see ye shine ;
Now methinks my soul yc fjeckon,
Upwards to your light divine.
Has one brig-ht star left its sisters .'
It is gliding swiftly down ;
Looking' like a jewel falling".
From that vast bespangled crown.
Star of Paradise, I wait thee.
Coming from the Unknown Sphere ;-
Dost thou bear a message holy,
Calling nie awav from here f
COmPEHSATIG^lS.
When Summer's flowers are dead, ami Winter's blast
Despoils the foliage, leaving black and bare
The trees and hedgerows: then white-jewelled lair
Coronals deck thcni, which arc not surpassed
In lovliness. While those pure frust-flowers last.
84 ■ POEMS BY CHARLOTTK GATES.
All is transfig-ured : ice-pearled every spray
Glints glorified ; and neath a rosy ray
In opal crystals every twig" seems cast.
In vaporous frosts a feathery film depends
From every object ; and yon vale below
Etherealizes ; for each sprig- and bough
Light, half-transparent tassels then suspends ;
Entranced we gaze on giist'ning' frost-gemmed bowers,
And wait the resurrection of the flowers.
A LUIHTHY SUBSET.
How splendidly the sun went down
Behind yon snow-clad hill I
It tinged the clouds with fiery dye, —
So calm and tranquil now they lie —
And all is sad and still.
Around, above, where e'er I look.
The scene is one of peace ;
The far-off landscape draped in white,
As softly fiiUs the veil of night,
Its beauties still increase.
The garb of snow brings out in full
The objects all around,
In bold relief: with tall bare trees
That stand out black, de\oid of leaves,
The distant hills are crowned.
That orb of crimson hue has sunk
So softly in the west ; —
Has shed its glory here below.
And kissed the pure crystal snow,
Before it sunk to rest.
It glimmered brightly through the trees,
Anrl shot a parting' ray;
First to the valleys bade good-bye,
Then smiled upon the moorlands high.
And then it passed away.
PASTOKAI. I'OK.MS. 85
Its disc has disappeared from view.
And iii^-ht has cast its pall ;
The dappled clouds retain their liglu,
Divinely beautiful the siyht, —
And peace reigns over all.
TO A I^OBIH-
COMK birdie, come hither, this winterly morn.
While hoar-frost is cling-ingf to yonder bare thorn,
And shininy so briyhtly on every boug"h,
The woodlands are clothed in a mantle of snow.
I hear thee lamenting- upon the yew-tree,
Thou seemst to be chirping and calling for me;
Then come to my win<low, and have thy repast,
Thy leathers are ruffled with bearing the blast.
Thou knowest me, birdie, obeying my call —
Thou'rt perching so near me upon the white wall.
How tame thou art, robin, the while thou art fed.
And taking for breakfast the crumbs of white bread.
Of all other birdies I love thee the best.
With sweet jilaintive twitter, and bonny red breast.
Thou camest to my dwelling in summer so calm.
Nor dost thou forsake me amid winter's storm ;
Now I will befriend thee, for keeping so near,
So come, little birdie, and be not in fear :
And then, mv sweet robin, the warm summer long —
1 shall ha\e my reward with thy lieautiful song!
THE OLiD SYGAmORE TREE.
I've dwelt beneath thy shelter, tree.
For man\ long and happy years ;
When 1 was voung and merry, tree —
My heart untouched by worldly cares.
86 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE OATES.
And since my sunny childhood, sweet,
I've looked upon thee day by day :
And I have grovvn to love thee, tree,
Thou sentinal, to g-uard my way.
Thou seemst to keep a watch, old tree,
Upon this clear and lonely spot, —
To smile upon my pleasures here,
Within my humble peaceful cot.
I've seen the little birdies, tree.
Come perch upon thy top-most boug"h,
And trill a happy song- to heaven,
When in the west the sun was low.
Through every changing season, tree,
Thy form has stood so staunch and bold ;
Through Spring and Summer bright and warm.
And through the Winter bleak and cold.
I've seen thee full of foliag^e, tree.
And when thy every bough has Ijeen,
With fresh and sweetest blossoms filled —
Suspended "mong thy leaves so green.
I've seen thee in the Autumn-time,
Clad in thy russet dress so sweet;
When crjisp and withered were thy leaves.
And gently falling at my feet.
I've seen thee gaunt and bare, old tree.
With all thy lovely verdure fled ;
With snow ui)on thy branches, bent
So like the aged, w ith hoary head.
Through many storms and tempests there
Th\- stately iorm has shielded me ;
Nor ever bowed beneath their wrath
Thou noble, fine, majestic tree !
I love to hear thy soug'hing low,
I've listened to it o'er and o'er, —
So like the restless ocean-waves
When they are surging on the shori-.
HASTORAI. I'OKMS. 87
I hear thee moaning in the ni^ht,
When sratliinu;' winds are blowing" hig'h ;
Or when the raindrops gently fall
Upon thee, troni the troubled sky.
This lay is in thy honour, tree,
I've tuned it on a rustic reed;
Thou old familiar sycamore,
Grand monarch thou of all the mead I
THE BEAUTIES OF SNOLU.
Beautiful snow, falling around,
Silently, softly, on to the ground :
F'alling in feathery Hakes from on high,
Coming down from the thick and sombre-hued sky.
Falling so lightly from yond laden cloud.
Covering the earth with a pure white shroud ;
Making the trees and the hedge-rows all white —
Falling so softly from morning till night.
Coming so (|uietly. gently down.
Decking the hills with a crystal white crown :
Swaying the branches of each little shrub,
And on the tall trees in yonder lone wood ;
Clothing thi' valleys in garments of white.
Beautiful snow so fair to the sig-ht.
Stealing serenely and noiselessly down,
Wrapping the earth in its winterly gown.
Drifting in mounds so white and so fair.
Whereon is the trace of the fleet-footed hare.
Here looking like some little sylvan hall.
And there t)\erhanging" the old-fashioned wall;
Resembling miniature valleys and hills.
And embowering the limpid sparkling rills ;
88
POEMS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
Then they burst forth in tiny and lustic cascades.
And ripple along- through the beautiful glades, —
And the snow 'mong" the branches and boughs of the trees.
Forms a lovely arcade, until stirred by the breeze.
Wreathed Hke fantastic garlands of white, —
Beautiful snow so airy and light ;
Formed into fairy bowers and caves,
Wreathed into beautiful furrows and waves,
Clinging to railings in masses of white.
Beautiful snow, so sparkling and bright.
And when at last it has ceased to fall,
A solemn tranquility reigns over all ;
The red sun sinks like a ball in the west,
And Nature reposes in night garments drest.
All the land sleeps 'neath its coverlet white,
The daylight recedes and gives place to the night ;
And the frosted flowers that figure the pane.
Are by Nature's own artist designed not in vain, [high.
Now the clouds have dispersed, and the moon shines on
'Mong the bright twinkling stars of the clear evening sky;
Shedding her sweet mellow light here below, —
Shines on the beautiful crystallized snow ;
Making it sparkle like rich gems so bright.
Glitter and dance in the moonbeams so light. —
Shines on the icicles drooping in clusters,
Making them look like beautiful lustres.
Pendent from rose-trees that climb to the eaves
Taking the place of the roses and leaves ;
And when the>- are kissed by the bright moonbeam,
Some like the richest emeralds seem ;
Or diamonds, set amid pearls so white.
They glisten so lovely, transparently bright.
They dazzle resplendently, crystal and clear.
In the pale silver sheen they so beauteous appear;
And the soft sad moonlight, so calm and serene.
Gives a sweet holy charm to the fair peaceful scene;
Beautiful snow, sent from Above —
Emblem of purity, light, and of love.
I'ASIOKM. I'UKMS. 89
DEAD bEAVES.
Oil. russet leaves! ye seem to speak to me.
And tell in whispers what ye all have seen,
When ye were younof, and flutter'd fresh and yreen.
And kissed the budding" blossoms on the tree.
Whilst lispini,'" sonLCs, borne on the \vand'rin;;r wind.
Ye screened the ripe and luscious fruit from view,
And danced in sunlig-ht ; but ye paler grew —
When all the fruit was ^-arnered. ye declined.
More tanned and scorched became ye day by day.
And crispened in the Autumn's sunshine wan.
Till ye were dead ; then softly earthward ye
All idly dropped ; and now await decay, —
Ye that were once the favoured shade for man,
Now withered lie, yet teach life's truth to me.
c^:^:^
go POEMS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
miM til
^ ©lis. fex
R GREETIflC TO TgH SEA.
Beautiful, silvery, shinin.s: sea,
Dancing and rippling-, ruffled and free !
• Its waves sing a song to welcome me here.
As I gaze through the mist of a joyful tear.
The curves of its waters now burst on my view,
Reflecting the tint of the firmament blue ;
My heart in its ecstacy throbs with delight,
As the fair ocean gleams like a far-off light.
Beautiful, boundless, billowy sea !
Noble, expansive, and smiling at me :
Bidding me welcome again to its shore —
Would that I now had to leave it no more.
Seen from afar, so fresh"ning and bright.
Peeping 'tween hillocks to gladden my sight ;
Through ridges and tracks of golden sand.
Bright'ning the waste of barren brown land.
Since last 1 looked on thee, what storms must have crossed
Thy surface, now tranciuil, with tempests have tossed ;
Now peace has descended upon thy bright breast,
And soften'd the wrath of thy billows to rest.
The balm-bearing breath of the Ix-autiful sea,
Is wafted so sweet o'er the mosses to me;
I'm coming, old ocean, to see thee again.
From over the heather, and sandy plain.
SKA SONGS AND OtKAN ODKS. yl
Beautiful, ;,,''listnin,;,;-, chanyinj^ sea !
I come o'er the moorland to look upon thee :
Stupendous and miji'hty, come let us unite- —
I lang'uish to touch thy waters so brii;;ht.
I come to interpret the m}stical son^"
Of thy nmrmuriny' waves that are flowing" along;
Rolling and restless, controlled by a Hand
ihat la\ishes heautv o'er ocean and land I
THH LUHISPERIflC LUflVES.
In the twilight time of an autumn day.
When the sunset colours had died awaw
And shadows weird on the waters lay,
The whispering of the waves,
Came sweet and low to my listening ear ;
I felt the soul of the sea was near;
'Twas siren's music so soft and clear, —
The whispering waves, the whispering waves.
Our fancy i)la\s in the gloaming dim,
i he while we scan the horizon's rim.
And listen to Nature's evening hymn, —
The whis]iering of the waves.
Out of the mist that seaward lies.
Come nymphs, to revel 'neath twilight skies:
They merrily dance, while fall and rise,
The whispering waxes, the whispering w aves.
The wordless songs of the sea-sprites free,
Are melodies borne from the deep to me;
I thus interpret the murmuring sea, —
The whispering of the waves. —
While mystic lights to the surface dart,
They breathe of hope to the drooping heart :
And oh ! the charm that their songs impart.
The whispering w aves the whispering waves.
92 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE OATES.
As unto me do the sleepless waves,
Fresh stories bring- from the sea's dark caves, —
They tell of its heroes' far-off g'raves,
The whispering" ot the waves.
Of deeds of valour they oft-times sing-.
And how to faith must the tried heart cling- ;
A sense of peace to my soul they bring-,
The whispering- waves, the whispering- waves.
THE HETUf^]M OF THE FISHING
FliEET.
Night drooped upon the stilly wave.
And wrapped the deep beneath its wing: !
The g-orgeous splendour of the day.
Grew chastened, in the twilight dim.
The evening- star hung- o'er the dee]).
In solemn beauty, pure and brighi.;
And on the silent waters tell
From far above, its silvery lig-ht.
The weary sun had sunk to rest,
Upon the bosom of the deep :
The wind with murm'ring music soft.
Had lulled the ocean sprites to sleep.
And from behind the old church tower.
The moon had risen clear and bright ;
And softly kissed the tranquil sea.
And smiled upon the beach so white.
When o'er the silvery moonlit wave.
So lig-htly sailed the fishing; fleet ;
Each coble with its crimson sails,
And laden from the bounteous deep.
And on the shell-encrusted pier,
A group of bonnie fishwives fair ;
With wistful g-aze, survey the sea,
The night breeze playing- with their hair.
SKA SOXCS AM) OCKAN ODF.S. 93
And in the ofllng- they discern
All they had fondly wished to see ;
As one by one. the littli* boats
Come bounding' o'er the waves so fret-.
They watch them near the harl)our bar.
In sheltered refuge, once again ; —
Sail swiftly round the reet of rocks,
And leave behind the open main.
With i^rows that cleave the waters bright,
And outspread sails, they glide along;
The yawls and luggers, trimly rigged,
And manned by sailors brave and strongs.
A cheery shout rings through tlie air.
To greet them as the strand they near ;
The sails are furled, the anchors dropped.
Beside the wave-washed wooden j^ier.
And in the soft and shady light.
The trawling nets are hauled ashore;
Inburdened of their glilt'ring freight.
The vessels lie at rest once more.
The crews have left, and lightly now,
Thev ride at anchor in the bay;
And guarded by the gentle moon,
That bathi's them with its dusky ray.
JMnbellishud names, in gold and blue,
Are painted on each vessel's side ;
His trusty boat the skipper loves, —
At once his fortune and his pride.
With cheery hearts, and weary hands,
Thev seek the homes they love so well :
The merry fisher and his wile.
In sweet contentment love to dwell.
A straw-thatched cottage— that is all.
So lowly, yet as white as snow ;
So near the sea, kissed l)y the si)ray
Borne by the fri'sh"ning winds that blow.
94 POKMS !!Y CHARI.OTTK OATES.
Like marble cots, in moonlight pale,
Their latticed windows all alight ;
That speak of comfort all within —
Of cosy firesides, warm and bright.
Deserted now the landing pier,
For sweet "good-night" has echoed round ;
The gates are closed, no footstep heard —
The rippling waves the only sound.
And midnight soon sinks o"er the deep.
Repose pervades the villag'e street ;
Thus we have seen the safe return.
And mooring of the fishing fleet.
R FAHEOUEIili TO fly4 OliD
LiipESOAT.
Farewell, poor old boat, we shall see thee no more,
For long hast thou been on our surge-beaten shore ;
And well thou hast served in the years that are gone.
Thy record is noble, thy honour is won.
A friend thou hast been to the sons of the sea,
For eighty-one lives have been rescued thro' thee !
Thy gallant commander, thy mate on the wave.
He yet has a heart that is tender as brave ;
Who knows, but he dropt on thy timbers a tear
When parting, like one from a friend on the bier ?
For long have your fortunes betn closely allied.
And each served the other when storm-tost and tried.
To years of good work the ^lttachment is due.
You've been to each other both faithful an<l true
For twenty-one years. Now you're partt-d tit last.
Who battled together with billow and blast.
For many a wreck ye have left the fair Fylde,
Returned with success, when the tempest was wild.
A cheer for thy coxswain, and all his brave crew ;
(iive honour to those to whom honour is due :
For landsmen are proud of such fellows as these.
SEA SONCJS AM) OCKAN ODES. 95
Who never are dauntetl by rou<4"hest of seas.
And now let us call for the Fishermen's Band.
To greet the new boat, that is now on the strand ;
May good luck attend on her future career,
I hope that the other will ha\(^ her compeer.
Long life to the co.xswain, and stout-hearted crew,
P'arewell to the old boat, and welcome the new !
TO THE SEA.
Thunder, thunder mighty sea,
In thy peerless majestw
Speakmg as thy billows roll,
Appealing ever to the soul.
Always moving, always will.
Restless ocean, never still :
Commanding with imperious voice.
With an awful deafening noise;
Calling in the solemn gloom.
Ifapless victims to their doom.
Soulof fieice despotic power.
Friend and foe in one brief hour.
Man to thee must ever bow,
Many, many moods hast thou ;
Beautiful, and weird, and wild ;
One day tranquil, calm, and mild.
Shining like a mirror bright,
Ripj)ling in the fair sunlight.
Then as angry thou wilt be.
n thou changing, surging seal
With thy mighty waves advancing,
And the seething white spray dancing:
In their maddend fury waking.
Rollini,', roaring, bounding, breaking!
With thy broad'ning l)illows sweeping
Stately forward, booming, leaping :
With thy tossing foam-wreaths dashing,
And thy green-grey colors flashing.
Arch dissembler too, art thou,
96 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE OATES.
Who would think to see thee now —
Laughing' with defiant pride.
That those smiling' waters hide,
Smould'ring passions laid at rest.
Underneath thy placid breast ?
Thou, that only yesterday,
Summoned human lives away :
Many a fond heart was bereft,
When thy heaving billows cleft ; —
Taking at one mighty sweep,
To thy yawning caverns deep,
Those who dared to cope with thee, —
O thou grasping, hungrv^seal
Challenging' with threat'ning- roar,
All who cross from shore to shore.
With thine own mysterious light,
Beautiful thou art to-night.
All is thine that thou canst claim.
And looking on thee we exclaim—
'• What wonders in thy waters lurk I —
Thou eirt God's grecitest, noblest work.
THE cflPTflii^ TO His cv^nua.
Cheer up my men, cheer up my men,
We've weathered the gale once more .'
We'll boldly brave the bounding" wave,
As we steer for a distant shore.
The storm was fierce last nig'ht, my mate^,
The wildest I ever have known ;
We were nearly lost, as the good ship to.t,
And the sails to shreds were l^lown.
You know how we were tried my lads,
It's a mercy we're sjiarc^d to relate ;
Ho'v each one stood 'mid the foaming Hot d.
And prepared for an awful fate.
SEA SONGS AM) OCKAN ODES. 97
P)Ut hrasely you bore u|). m\' lads,
When Death secniefl hoverinjj near,
Each took his |)art with a cheerful heart,
And never displayed a fear
Like a cannon's boom in the midnit^^ht g-loom,
The wind on the canvas prest ;
Till it was all torn, yet we on were borne,
By the gale from the wild sou'west.
The Itillows dashed, as the light'ning- flashed.
And the thunder rolled along,
And mingled its voice with the ocean's noise,
In a loud tumultuous song!
It was flash for flash I and peal for peal !
Oh I lads, 'twas a dreadful hour!
When the darting light showed the billows white,
That reared with appalling power.
There's many a bright bright eye, my lads,
That twinkled with merry light,
Now closed will be, in the cold dark sea —
By the terrible gale last night.
Be merrv while vet you may, mv mates.
For m<my a noble crew
Have passed away, who but yesterday
'Were as jolly, my hearties, as you.
Aye, many a manly heart 1 sa\'.
That beat full of hope and glee.
And honest j^ride, now liieless hides
i^'ar down in the pitiless sea.
Then let's be thankful now ni)- men.
And let us be happy too ;
*• Hurrah I " I hear the saiUirs cheer:
Long li\(' my valiant crew I
Then here's a health to you. my men.
.^.nd peace to the rolling main.
And here's to ninety days, my mates —
And good luck till w<- lan<l again I
98 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE OATES.
THE DlSCOHSOliflTE HEflHT.
I STAND beside the boundless sea.
Whose restless waves toss wild and free ;
The mist hang's round me like a pall,
The rumbling- waters rise and fall.
The sky is erey, and cold, and drear,
I am alone, no form is near ;
The cheerless sky, and the ocean too.
And the mist alike, have a cold grey hue :
The sea-birds flap their snowy wing's.
But their piercing cry no comfort brings.
My heart is sad, and their dismal screech
Is the only sound along the beach ; —
But the voice of the sea, with its hollow roar,
As its swollen waves break on the shore:
And strings of seaweed here are spread,
Cast up from the ocean's deep dark bed.
The sea-star sprawls on the wet sands borne
When the tide was high, at the break of morn :
And shoals ot shell-fish around me lie,
'Mong heaps of seaweed brown and dry.
The limpet clings to the sea-worn rock,
Where the white sea-fowl in numbers flock.
Then scud aUongthe surging deep,
Where the waters play, and dance, and leap.
The massive boulders far away.
Receive the ocean's feathery spray ;
So green, and slimy, with the sea.
All rounded worn with the waves so free;
And little spiral shells are there
Among tht- pebbles, white i\nd fair ;
And wonders left i)y the out-gone tide
Are .strewn around on every side :
And many a pond like a miniciturc bay,
With tiny wavelets ripple and play.
I feel the smell of the briny sea,
So fresh and sweet it is borne to me ;
The wave-marks left on the soaking- sand,
Are here before me where I stand ;
SKA SON(;S AM) OCKA.N OUKS. 99
In curves fantastic thev are seen,
Where hut to-day the sea has l)een.
Ihe soft Ijreeze blows from the ocean (h'ear,
I call aloud, there is none to hear :
The stormy [letrels o'er me fly,
They heed not my despairinif cr)- :
I call, but call for thee in vain —
My voice but echoes back again ;
The rocks and din's resound the more,
And echo back along the shore.
I call to thee across the main.
Rut the waters seem to mock my pain ;
1 call aloud unto the sea —
But the billows foam, and rave at me:
And lash against the craggy steej),
Where creatures from the ocean creep :
The tufts of green in crevices grow.
And gently wave as the soft winds l)low ;
1 see the mark on its slippery side
That was left in the morn by the ebbing tide.
The murky sky, and the mournful sea,
Accord with the thoughts that arise in me ;
And tell me thou hast gone to sleep,
While crossing o'er the mighty deep.
The sea has claimed thee for its own,
Thy spirit to the sky has flown.
The wild sea-fowls proclaim the same.
That in the fierce relentless main.
Thou art tor ever lost to me —
Oh, why may I not rest with thee.'
Then comes a whisper from thedee[).
As if its spirit wakes from sleep,
I seem to hear the wild waves sa}' —
•' Arise, my child, and y-o thy way ;
I have nor ) et a place for thee.
But one (hiy thou shalt come to me.''
1 go, and leave this dull lone shore,
And these sad wa\'es' tunuilluous roar.
1 seem to hear their wild refrain,
" Oh, go my child and work again :
And waste not here thy still young life.
But go and mingle with the strife; —
lOO POEJIS BY CHARLOTTK GATES.
Repine not for the one now g'one —
But g"o thy way, and still toil on."
I g'aze once more upon the main,
I hear once more the sad refrain ;
I leave, but still the wild waves say—
"Arise, and work while yet "tis day !
THE S^lPPEf^ TO HIS BOAT.
A CHEER for my boat, for my own faithful lassie,
Full many an hour I have travelled with thee ;
We often have trusted our fortunes tos^ether,
True mates we have been on the billowy sea.
With many a tempest we often have battled.
When round and beneath us the elements roared ;
Thou hast brought me in safety ag'ain to the harbour.
And now my brave lassie at anchor is moored.
Far on the lone sea we have been in the winter.
Wearily toiling" from morninof till nig"ht;
Now still we are faithful, when kind triends surround us,
And cling" to each other in summer so brig"ht.
I'm never so happy as when I am trimming"
Her beautiful sails, when we're out on the deep ;
In the splendour of noontide, or g"low of the evening",
When Neptune is rocking- the Syrens to sleep.
I see her so g'allantly, gracefully riding".
And swiiying her wings at the breezes behest;
She'll answer my hand when she'll answer no other,
And bring her old master again to his rest.
Then hurrah I for the lass that will always befriend me,
My home on the ocean, the pride of my heart;
If we reach not the de])ths of the ocean tog"ether,
I'll miss my old boatie, when ever we part.
SEA SONliS AND OCEAN ODES. lOl
SAILilHG OH THE SUHLiIT SEA."
Skiks of azure. Ilecketl witFi silver,
Flossy clou is of vapour white ;
Like the ang^els' flowinj^ vesture.
Glistenin'^ raiment. ])ure and brii^ht :
Glorified with radiant sunshine,
Half transparent some we see.
Floatin.tr o'er us, while we're gaily
Sailinqf on the sunlit sea: —
Sailing", while those skies above us
Give unto the sea's g-rey-green.
Tinges of the heavenly azure,
And a dazzlintr silver)'' sheen.
Beautiful and calm the morning,
Fair as aught on earth can be,
While with joyous hearts we're softly
Sailing on the sunlit sea.
Sea-birds there are flitting near us,
Poising o'er the wavelets calm :
With their (juivering plumage gleaming.
Whiter in the sunlight warm.
Sun-kissed sea-birds ! hovering 'round us,
Beautiful, and wild, and free !
Making circlets o'er the waters, —
Sailing on the sunlit sea: —
Skimming near us. while the breezes.
Lightly wafted, whisper low ;
Bearing joyous songs to heaven
PVom our vessel's stern and prow.
White-winged yachts bedeck the water. —
Graceful craft where-e'er they be;
(iliding, with their snowv pinions, —
Sailing on the sunlit sea.
See our vessels transient way-marks,
On the slumbrous surface shine ;
In our wake are white foam-tracings
Like a molten silver line : —
I02 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE OATES.
Soon to be obliterated
Like the worldl}^ j)aths that we,
Trace in different shades, not always,
Sailing" on a sunlit sea.
Life is all around and 'neath us.
Nature's here with noiseless tread ;
Not a footfall breaks the silence.
Peace below, and God o'erhead : —
Smiling" throug"h the silver sunlight.
Ever keeping guard is He ;
Watching o'er us, while we're g^ently
Sailing on the sunlit sea.
THE UUlDOm'S UAmEflT.
When I hear the sad sea sobbing'",
It sounds like a dirge for the dead ;
Its pulses unceasingly throbbing",
Does it grieve for the Hearts that have fled ?
It was there that the billows parted,
And gathered my lad far below;
My Jimmie, the brave and true-hearted,
In its dark stilly depths slumbers now.
And the waters wriip around him,
For he lies neath the rippling" wave ;
The g'ems of the ocean surround him.
As he sleeps in his deep silent grave.
His life was brief and cloudless,
In the blossom of youth he hath died ;
His form lies cold and shroudless —
For his life ebbed away with the tide.
When the night and the morn were meeting.
And the moonbeams still lingered so cold;
To the sky then his spirit was fleeting.
As the sea did its victim enfold.
SEA SONUS AND OCKAN ODKS. 1 03
And 1 ,i;azc with a restless yearning",
On the turbulent, conquering' sea;
While my bosom is beatin<^ and burning-,
For the soul that has vanished from me.
I can see the shi|) still rucking-,
As I look on the surging main,
That roars with a triumphant mocking",
O'er its victims, all those it has slain.
Yet strange is this fascination,
As I wander alone by its shore ;
In my sorrow and desolation.
Still 1 love to hearken its roar.
He rests on the l)ed of the ocean.
And sleepeth the sleep of the brave ;
Yet my heart overflows with emotion —
When I think of my poorjimmie's g-rave.
THE I^^AIHBOUU.
How beautiful the nun bow looks.
Suspended o'er the deep ;
Among the black and watery clouds,
With silver linings white as shrouds.
That seem to want to weep.
How lovely, yet how strange it seems.
Arched o'er the waves so free ;
And smiling in the changing- light,
With all its brilliant colours bright,
Rellected in the seal
That vivid are of matchless hues.
So transient and so clear,
Now reigns with triumi)h in the sky,
A few brief moments, ere the eye
Will see it tlisap|)car.
I04 POEMS BV CH\RLOTTK DATES.
And lo ! another bow is there,
With faintest violet rim ;
Its "semblance, but more undefined —
With colours softened and refined —
A shadow vague and dim.
How lovely,— uniierceived, they came
Across the sky so dark :
Now they so softl}- fade awa}-.
And melt among" the clouds, till they
Die out, and leave no mark.
Oh, welcome words of Holy Writ,
They come before me now ;
God's promise in that sacred Book,
I read his token as I look.
W^here He hath placed His bow.
THE IiIFEBOAT BELiLi.
Come look at the gathering- storm to-day
And hear how the seabirds screech ;
The roaring billows bound up and break
Like thunder, upon the beach.
The wind has freshened, and veered a point.
Increasing the water's swell ;
Then hark ! for lo ! 'mid the storm there goes
The clang of the Lifeboat Bell !
■fe
Oh ! what does it mean ? Look out at sea,
A vessel drifts fast to wreck ;
'Tis scarce discerned by the landsman's eye
As waters wash o'er its deck :
Its hoisted signal appeals for help.
The fishermen know too well ;
The coxswain summons his crew, tor hark !
He's ringing the Lifeboat Bell !
With sea-trained eye he has watched that barcjue.
So long on the great waves tost ;
Now lifted high in their sportive g"lee,
And then for a moment lost.
SKA SONUS AND ml \N 01»KS. IO5
The shipwrecked strangers are haffled now.
All cjuailed when the foremast fell ;
Could they hut hear in their dire distress.
The sound of the Lifeboat I'.ell 1
All hearts are stirred 1j\' the startling" sound.
'Tis heard in the cottag'e home;
The w ives and mothers with anxious hearts.
Rush out in the tempest's g'loom :
Their men are called to the treacherous sea,
No mortal the storm can quell ;
And oh I 'tis ever with heart-throbs wild
They list" to the Lifeboat Hell.
The sea works havoc in storms like these,
As thus ill its ofreat unrest.
It wages war with the sons it nursed
And swayed on a peaceful breast.
Man's strength is tried with its forceful moods,
But ne'er will his hand repel
Those storm-urged breakers, whose war notes dread
Ring- out with the Lifeljoat Bell.
The wind has heightened, the clouds dropt low,
The g'ale in its force swoops down ;
The boatmen dare it, their faces tanned.
Storm-proof as their oilskins brown.
Those Huttering sig'ns of their brother's woe,
Enough to their staunch hearts tell ;
Tn wind anil sleet they obey at once,
The call of the Lifeboat Bell.
Nor long- will the foundering- biirrjue ride on.
No harbour of refugee near ;
And oh ! to them w ill the lifeboat crew.
Take ho])e that will give them cheer.
Re t|uick ! brave hearts, for humanity's sake ;
Your boat will their fears dispel :
A score of fishermen now we see,
Respond to the Lifeboat Bell.
From that imperatixe peal we know.
If rung- to the breakers' roar.
That work and peril, and dread suspense.
Are rife on the sea-g^irt shore.
io6
POEMS BY CHARLOTTE DATES.
The hero fierce on the field of strife.
In prowess can ne'er excel
Those valiant coastmen, who will dare
To answer the Lifeboat Bell : —
Take hasty leave of their own dear kin,
And then for a combat run ;
That other fathers may be restored —
The mother have back her son.
They carry their lives in their toiling- hands
It may be their own death s knell
Is now being- rung", yet for duty's sake,
They fear not the Lifeboat Bell !
THE UiHECK OF THE "SI^El^E"
AT BLiACHPOOLt,
OCTOBER 9th, 1892.
The Sirene sailed with the noonday's tide,
To proudly plough the Atlantic wide ;
In ballast, lig-ht, with her sails unfurled,
She started out for the g-reiit New World.
But when the vessel was under way,
A chang-e ai)peared at the close of day ;
The clouds hung- low in the evening sky.
At midnight's hour the wind shrieked high :
For lo ! a hurricane filled her sails,
Ere well in sight of the coast of Wales ;
Her course reversed, then she tacked again^
And tossed about on the troubled main.
All night she rode in the dreadful gale,
And vainly tried through the storm to sail,
Bui fiercer, louder, the west wind blew,
And baffled her brave Norwegian crew.
SKA SONGS AND ni !• W iiDKS. \0'j
They lost control ot their gallant barque.
As sails were torn by the storm-fiend dark,
And mi.LThty billows around her boomed —
'I'hen each one felt that the ship was doomed.
The day wore on, and they sij^hted Kind,
And staiy:htway made for the storm- washed strand :
They turned her head, they could do no more,
And let her drift to the wild lee-shore.
As nearer, and nearer, shj swiftly drew,
A throni,^ of faces appeared in view ;
The men stooil up in her stern to wait
With throbbin*,'- hearts their impending- fate.
The wind increased with the tide's lull How,
The Sirene rolled till her yards dipt low;
And laboured on, with her lessening- gear.
Through lireakers white, to the crowded pier.
Hope buoyed the hearts ot the crew, as each
Descried the thousands on Blackpool's beach ;
But sank, on seeing with blank despair.
No boat could live on the breakers there !
Then shouts went up. but they could not hear.
She headlong- made for the wave-washed pier;
A frantic rush, as ils massive lorm.
Loomed helpless there, in the blinding storm.
She struck ! 'mid cries iii the fearful scene.
The pier-deck shook, as the poor Sirene
Went bounding in — at the structure dashed —
And wrenched the girders, while timbers smashed '.
An awful crash ! and a great rebound !
But willing helpers were gathered round ;
Each Norseman stood, with a seaman's ner\e,
The while she reeled with a mighty swerve !
They saw their brothers, — our boatmen brave,
Throw ropes to them o'er the yawning grave;
Another heave, and she closer drew —
A leap for life by the fainting crew !
I08 POEMS [5V CHARLOTTK OATKS.
So one by one they were g'ot ashore,
'Mid thriUing" cheers, and the sea's wild roar ;
Another bang"! then a desperate leap,
A life was snatched from the seething- deep !
Thus each was saved from the foaming" flood,
Till one alone on the taffrail stood ;
A rope was thrown, and around him lashed.
They hauled him up, as the pier deck smashed!
And prayers were breathed l)y the people near,
As crew and rescuers left the pier, —
The hearts were moved of the anxious throng,
For cheers rang' out as they passed along".
With beaming faces, their suffering's o'er,
The Norsemen g"reeted the folks on shore ;
Then friendly shelter and succour found,
Through generous hearts, that were gathered round.
Like axe-felled tree, crashed each tow'ring mast !
All far and wide was the wreckage cast;
The Sirene, helpless, upon her side,
Was stranded there, in the swirling' tide.
Forsaken thus, like a huge dead form ;
And in the intervals of the storm.
Was heard the clang- of the good ship's bell —
The waves were ringing the barque's death-knell !
Man, speak no more of thy vaunted power,
It answers not in the tempest-hour ;
Thy works are trail, when the sea in wrath.
Obeys g'ood Heaven, but naught on earth !
mEiDlTflTIOI^S.
I SIT within my rustic bowt- r
While Nature smiles around me here ;
'Mid perfume rich from many a flower.
The wild-bird's note salutes my ear.
SKA SONCS AND (Xl-.AN ODKS. 1 O9
From distant trees a low sweet sonj^,
Is borne upon the air to me ;
Like niurnuirinyf waves, and makes me lonLT
To see once more the .i,'-Iorious sea ! —
To look upon its throbbinjt,'- breast,
To hear its mij^^hty pulses beat,
To see aii-ain each foaminir crest.
Its billows rolling at my feet !
Its tones reverberant in the storm
Are always mus c sweet to me.
Or whisperiniT wavelets, smooth and calm.
It is the self-same .u:rand old sea!
'Tis peerless in its stranj^e unrest —
.Shows Nature in her wildest form ;
I lonjj to l)e ui)on its breast,
It bears for me a nameless charm.
My woodland g-lens I hold most dear,
Their solitudes are wooed by me.
Yet tame their beauties all appear
Compared with thee, thou surging' sea I
The summer roses bloom to fade,
The birds will seek a warmer clime,
The sea remains as it were made.
No season knows, nor chang^e with lime.
I yearn to stand by it once more,
Its grandeur it reveals to me ;
As breezes soft play 'round my door —
I long to-day to view the sea.
In fancy I can see thee now,
Thy deep-toned voice sounds in my car.
My own loved Sea ! and on my brow
I feel thy breath, so cool and clear :
But Fancy is a fickle maid,
She flimsy fabrics weaves for me;
Delightful moment while she strayed! --
She would not keep me by the sea.
The sun sinks oVr the hill I see,
To-night 'twill gild the ripjiling wave :
What siK-nt raptures muie would be
To watch it reach its iir|ui<l grave!
I lO POEMS BY CHARLOTTE DATES.
The cooing- dove has sought her nest,
While to the hive returns the bee ;
I soon, like them, must seek my rest,
And see in dreams my own loved sea I
pisHEi^mEH's miVES.
When your weary eyes close for a night of repose,
When the u^intry winds are blowin.g ;
When you hearken the rain that is pelting the pane.
And the streamlet that faster is flowing- ;
Do you think of the sea, what its fury will be,
Of the toiling- and brave who are out on the wave.
And ever in danger must be ?
Then think of the lives of the fishermen's waives
When their husbands are out on th.j sea ! —
When those whom they love on the wild waters rove,
In search for the treasures of ocean ;
Then the roar of the wind fills each g-ood woman's mind
With throbbing- and painful emotion.
To them a great storm seems a hideous form,
That is seeking to smite, in the depths of the night,
Its victims, v/hoever they be ;
Then pity the lives of these mothers and wives,
When a tempest sweeps over the sea.
They bid them good-bye, with a sorrowful sig'h.
When the sea is so smooth and shining-; —
So laughing- and bright, with its varying- light.
No cause for the fishwives repining".
But the sea may betray, ere the close of the day.
Its billows may rise, and the cloud-covered skies
Frown over the waters so iree ;
Then think of the lives of the poor patient wives,
Of the men who are tossed on the sea !
At the tempest they ciuail, lest should dimger assail
Their dear ones, and leave them to sorrow : [sleep
As they g-aze on the deep, where their men soon may
In peace, ere the dawn of the morrow.
SICA SON(;S AND OCIAN ODKS. II j
They anxiously wait, and resiu;-n them to (ate,
The dread storm they bear, while they offer a prayer
For the lirave, who in peril must be ;
For lone are the lives of the poor fisher-wives,
While their husbands are sailing;- the sea.
There is never a storm, but what many a form
Is lairl on a watery pillow;
There is ne\er a wind, but a brother will find
His doom on the wild cruel billow.
The hurricane loud is |)re|jaring' a shroud.
And a sorrowful dir^e sinys the foam-laden surj,'-e,
pA'ery seaman in i)eril must be :
Oh sad are the mothers, and sisters, and w ives.
When destruction rides over the sea!
ON THE RESICNATIOH Op COXSCUAlN
BICKERSTAFFE, OF BLiACKPOOli.
Time, the mij^-hty kiny and con(iueror
Ever will a despot be ;
All thinja:s, l)e they art oi- nature.
\'ield unto its stern decree ;
Through it "the old order chan.Lreth,
Giving- place unto the new; "
It hath ta'en the " RoI>ert William,"
One by one "twill chani^-e her crew.
liy its hand, the summer llower
Giveth place to snow and rime ;
Now we find the Lifeboat Coxswain
Bowin<^- to the monarch — Time.
All the record of his darinyf
Comes before the mental eye ;
(iailant deeds on storni\' waters.
(Jit beneath a weeping" sky.
Strong- of limb, with heart of valour,
f<eared beside the Irish Sea,
Hreathing- all its bracing- breezes,
I'lackpool's pride, such nu'n as he.
112 rOEMS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
Ei2fhteen years of faithful service,
Done for mercy, on the wave ;
Places him amongst our seamen.
In the front ranks of the brave.
Never more his well-known fii^-ure
In the mercy-boat will stand,
At his post, to guide her, bringing
Those in peril to the land.
Oh! how grateful hearts have blest him.
And his trusty, gallant train ; —
Blesi them for restoring loved ones
To their home and friends again.
In the morning" of his lifetime,
Through its arid noontide heat ;
He has toiled, before the evening
Cast its shadows cool and sweet :
Now it comes, and lie is weary
With his life-work, long and hard ;
For those noble deeds of succour,
He will reap a just reward.
Look at all his decorations,
Think of all his glorious past !
Then we know the veteran coxswain
Well deserves his rest at last.
Healthful years be yet before him,
Long and happy hours to spend,
By the sea, his boyhood's playmate,
And withal his life-long friend.
Fare-thee well, true son of Neptune !
Rest and honours fairly v\on :
One day thou wilt hear the Master
Greet thee with the words "well done !
A SEA-SIDE SUHSET.
I SAW the lovely red sun set
Into the glorious sea ;
So tranquil, calm, and beautiful,
Ajjpeared that sight to me.
SKA SONGS AND OCEAN ODES. 113
I sat nnd watched it slowly move,
I'ar down towards tin; west,
The heaving- blue waves brightly gleamed,
Willi many a cream-white crest.
The shining golden sun appeared
To move adown the sky,
And left a crimson glow behind,
So charming to the eye.
And then it touched the water's edge.
Where sea and sky unite ;
And lit the sea across to me.
With soft refulgent light.
Its splendour was reilected there,
i'ill every wave was seen.
Across to the horizon far,
Beneath its glowing- beam.
And then it dip't into the sea.
Till half was gone away ;
The waters looked like molten fire.
Beneath its dazzling ray.
And lower still it seemefl to sink,
Into the mighty deep ;
'l^ill but its golden edge was seen.
Where sky and waters meet.
A moment more, and it was gone —
'ihe sun was lost to sight ;
But in the western sk\- it left,
A flood of mellow light.
The Ijright horizon's crimson verge
Wore to a gfolden hue.
That shaded into faintest green,
Which melted into blue.
A sight so strangely l)eautitul,
J ne'er had seen before.
The wild waves glittered as they danced.
And broke upon the shore.
I 14 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
The twilight deepened into night,
All nature seemed at peace, —
All save the surging of the waves,
Whose music cannot cease.
A holy presence hovered round,
And every moment blest :
The day was done, the night had come.
The sun had sunk to rest.
THE OCEflH'S cHAt^m.
A SWEET and solemn feeling.
Does o'er my heart come stealing ;
And my soul is filled with deep de\otion.
As I list' at midnight to the ocean.
By its waters dark and dreary,
Ne'er my mental eye grows weary
Of gazing on the mighty billow.
Its vision haunts me on my pillow !
For a spell comes creeping o'er mt-.
As the waves roll high before me.
On the seething, surging ocean,
Thrilling me with strange emotion.
Oh, then it has a magic charm.
That soothes me like a healing bahn;
Its snowy-creSiCd foaming waves,
Kolling o'er a thousand graves !
Methinks its spirits hover o'er me, —
Thiit its mermaids call before me
Noble forms, so long departed, —
Weeping women, broken hearted : —
The tales of shipwrecks of the past,
Alen hoping, daring, to the last;
Then folded in its strong embrace,
And leaving not a single trace
Of the spot where they went down, —
By no marble pile tis known.
Then something says my fate 'twill be,
To sluml)er in the deep sad sea; —
SKA som;s and ocean odes. I I 5
1 u >ink Ijenralh the foamy crest,
I'nto the j^rave I should love best:
A moment, and then not one faint token,
To tell for me that the waves had Vjroken :
And the)' would roil, as they rolled before.
Onward, till dashed on a far-off shore.
They'd hide me there when I am rlearl.
Down on the sea's dark lonesome bed :
There 1 should lie. and heeded not.
By all my earthly friends forjjot: —
With the mermaids siny-inLi' all around.
With a sweetly sad and soug-hing' sound ;
In those calm dejjths, on a sandy bed,
With a coral reef beneath my head.
Alone to lie, mid the ])earls so fair,
With the seaweed tan<4:led in my hair.
For oh ! I love the dark blue sea.
Expansive, fathomless, and free ;
It is like music to my soul.
When mighty billows rush ami roll.
I love it ! be it calm or wild,
It lulls and rocks its clini^^ini;- child.
I' or lis no inconsistent thing'.
That fondest love from fear can spring :
A serf may love his master so, —
Regard him with the deepest awe ;
Xor seek to break from bondage free,
A tyrant though that master be.
r<epentant moments may disclose,
A noble nature doth repose
Deep down in that impulsive breast.
When all its jiassions are at rest.
More solenm by fur than it is at noon.
Is the beauteous sea 'neath a midnight moon :
When everything is hushed in sleej).
Save the mighty waves of the surging deep.
When moonlight falls on waters blue,
Their sheen is of the enu'rald hue.
Antl then its varied, fantastic forms.
Enhances all its wondrous charms.
Il6 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
The sea no man can comprehend,
Nor will it <o his frail will bend ;
'Tis ruled by One, the All-Supreme,
Who dwells beyond where night-orbs gleam.
Methinks the sea is nature's tie,
Connecting earth with Heaven on high;
There's something holy in the ocean —
The dark blue waves' tumultuous motion :
Oh, is it God's own spirit breathin;^
In mighty waves for ever heaving?
When I hear its boom in the night alone.
It has a charm that is all its own.
Oh, the solemn midnight ocean !
Oh, its waves' unceasing motion ! —
It has a sweet mysterious power.
That awes me at the midnight hour.
Oh yes, the spot where I would die,
Upon its bosom would I lie.
And wait God's angel drawing nigh,—
To waft me to Eternity !
R SHILt RT SRBBflTH EVE.
See ! the sun, in golden glory.
Shines upon the glassy deep,
While the balmy western breezes
Seek to lull the waves to sleep.
'Tis a peaceful Sabbath evening, —
We are out upon the sea—
'Neath the sunlight softly sailing,
Happy thoughts come back to me.
Tell me not the world is joyless;
Looking on a scene like this —
Wide expanse of sky and ocean.
Seemeth near akin to bliss.
Cairn, and bright, and lull of beauty,
Now the sun is sinking low. —
Lighting with its beams our faces,
With a warm and genial irlow.
SKA SONtiS AND OCKAN OUIS. II7
Solemn, soothinj,'- thoug-hts come o'er me,
At this trantjuil evenin;^ hour :
Gazing on a world of waters
Brink's to mind (iod's wondrous power.
Sounds of Sabbath bells come stealing'
O'er the silent waters wide ;
Silvery bells, so gently pealinj,'',
Cast a spell at eventide.
And the land seems like a picture ;
Dwarfed it is. seen from afar.
Like a city built in water,
Where its domes reflected are.
With the radiant evenin*,'" sunlight
Playing' on each house and spire ;
In the windows, its reflection
GlowL'th like a mimic fire.
Look! for now lis fast declining. —
Setting in the western skies ;
While the sea. with mystic murmur.
Chanteth as the monarch dies.
'Tis as if a hand from Heaven
Sweeps across the western wa\e ;
Touching chords of sweet, wild music,
Such as nought on earth e'er gave.
Beautiful, and sad. and silent,
Sinks the sun away from sight ;
Kissing, ere it goes, the wavelets.
With an amber-tinted light.
High abo\e, the tlai)i)led cloudlets
Peep into the water clear ;
And the ocean gives each colour
Back unto its native sphere.
'Tis as if the gates of Heaven
For a while had stood iijar,
Showing glimpses of its splendour.
Guarded by the evening star.
Lone and darker grows the seascafie, —
Evening shades are falling round ;
Still with undulating motion.
O'er the ri[)p!ing waves we bound.
Il8 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE OATES.
Yet we all, and with one impulse,
Let our thougfhts unspoken rest;
Charmed into a holy stillness —
Breathing" of the g"ood and blest;
Till we, by a ray from Heaven,
Seem to read each other's thoughts,-
Hearts draw nearer to each other.
By the spell the hour hath wrought.
Blessed hour of Sabbath twilight ! —
On the waves, sublimely grand.
There the soul doth hold communion
With the far-off Spirit Land.
Often will my memory linger
On this hour, with joy and love ;
On the sea I feel the nearer, —
To the mvstic Realms Above.
THE lilFEBOflT COXSLUAIl^ TO
HIS Cf^ELU.
Come forward my men, for I heartily greet you —
I'm happy to have you once more by my side ;
Right welcome you are, for on this day to meet you
Fills me, your old coxswain, with pleasure and pride.
You know why we meet, nuitos, and how I'm delighted
To have your brave sjMrits beside me again ;
It's sad our whole crew cannot here be united,
Yet thankful I am that so many remam.
Well, looking to-night on your storm-beaten faces,
Recalls to my memory how bravely with me,
You, in the old lifeboat, took promptly your places.
And fearlessly fought with the tempest-racked sea.
You know what we went through ; for, friends I've a notion
Our courage that morning was put to the test ;
Now some of our myites who were tossed on life's ocean
Are anchored all safe in the '' Hiiven of Rest."
SEA SONUS AM) OCKAN OUES. I I9
Aye. lift, my old comrades, in dark stormy weather,
When folks looked with fear at the sea from the land,
\Vc all have i)Ut out in the lifeboat toj^ether,
And none can deny she was -gallantly manned.
While tliaiikful tliat fortune, throuj^^h dang"ers smiled oCr
I now will i)ropose, in my heartiest tones — L'"*^'
" Lons.^ life and g'ood health to the fellows before me,
Who rescued the crew of the poor " Bessie Jones ! "
'THE PAbACE ON THE SEA."
(TiiK Indian Pavilion, Xuktu 1'iek, Bi.ACKroOL).
Rkiioi.i) I that noble work of art.
It doth a mystic charm impart;
Built on the mighty waters free,
U'erlooks the wide expanse of sea.
Oh, what a fine imposing' sight !
Artistic, eleg^ant, and light,
Like Oriental temple, g-rand —
And hark I the music of the band,
Comes ringing" sweetly on the ear.
As we the g"dded structure near.
^^^' enter, — what a sight is there !
That almost seems beyond comimre.
'Tis decorated all inside.
Its g-org^eous hall so longf and wide;
The man\' windows round us seem,
To lend enchantment to the scene.
The chandeliers with g^littVing lig^ht,
Res]ilendent with their pendants bright.
We seem, (all is so gay and g;rand,j
Transported into Fair\land ;
And thus our fancy makes us feel
'Tis too romantic to be real.
A ])alace on the surging' deep,
Wliere syrens of the ocean sleep ;
The sea-fairies their wing's unfold,
And tune their tinv " harps of gokl."
I20 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE OATES.
As now the fine impressive band.
Sends forth melodious music g"rand;
With thrilling-, deep, impassioned sound, —
That vibrates all the place around.
And then so low and sweet it falls,
The senses with its power enthrals.
The music floats upon the seas, —
Then dies away upon the breeze.
And then the vocal strains so sweet
Swell forth, to make the charm complete.
'Neath us the wild-waves weirdly roar.
Their hollow sound repeating- o'er.
We rise to g^o, entranced ! inspired ! —
'Twas all the heart could have desired.
Outside, the sea looks sad and calm.
The evening" air is full of balm.
The stars are tvvinkling- in the skies,
The whisp'ring" wind so softly sighs.
We leave the pier, its every light
Reflected on the waters bright ;
And still in fancy every note.
Upon the zephyrs seem to float.
We quit those l eauteous sounds and scenes.
Yet they will haunt us in our dreams.
SHEIiliS OF THE OCEflH.
My room is decked with graceful pretty shells.
Born in the watery world of wonders deep —
'Mong hills and valleys that man may not see,
Where treasures 'bide that he must never reap.
They might have lived apart, in separate seas,
Where myriads of their varied species are;
And southern skies suffuse with sunny gleam.
Their native element to depths afar.
Or, where the dancing of the Northern Lights,
The midnitjht sky illumines, o'er the wave ;
And far below, they might have sported there,
Within the precints of a rocky cave.
SKA SOMIS AM) OCKAN ODES. 121
Oh! who shall say how many years have passtrJ,
Since life abounded in these little shells?
And when they yielded up their pretty homes —
The tenants that inhabited these cells '■:
From pinky volute, and the cowr)- smooth.
E'en to the smallest vventletraps are here ;
And fathoms deep, within the far-off sea.
Thr)- sluml)ered once,— I therefore hold them dear.
The ornaments that beautify the deep.
Whiit can surpass those lovely tints so fair ?
I love them as I love earth's fairest flowers.
No painters' colours can with them compare.
When pressed a^fainst the ear, a mystic sound,
As of the seething" surf on suri,''es free.
These ocean g;ems speak of their nati\e home.
Through them we hold communion with the sea.
Oh I God of nature every one are Thine,'
Those beauteous things formed by Thy Holy Hand;
Thine is the wealth that lies beneath the wave —
And all the Lflories of the sea and land.
A POET'S LUISH.
Mine be a g^rave beside the Sea,
And in some lonel\' spot ;
Beside the waters let it be.
Where strang;ers pass it not.
The booming" of the breakers will
Make music o'er my g"rave ;
y\nd let all other sounds be still, —
All save the sad sea wave.
My friends, there let my dust repose.
When I shall be no more ;
It is the spot where I would choose, -
Upon the lone sea shore.
122 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE OATES.
When waves are brii^^ht with red sunlight, -
With ruby g-lows the west;
When day and night in peace unite,
Oh ! lay me there to rest.
The waters they will come and go.
And kiss the pebbly shore ;
But I .shall then be laid so low,
In peace for evermore.
The murm'ring waves will gently leap
Around where I would lie ;
When I am in my last long sleep,
Alone with sea and sky.
I want no flowers above me strewn.
To deck my lonely grave ;
The friendly Sea, will bring- its own
Sweet trilDute on the wave : —
Green garlands spread, above my head,
And change them every day ;
Rich treasures from its deep dark bed,
'Twill bring, and take away.
No need for granite cross to show
My grave, when there I sleep ;
For God my resting jilace will know, —
His Being pervades the deep.
I wiint no mourners o'er my mound.
Their idle tears to shed ;
With mournful, melancholy sound, —
The Sea weeps for the dead.
'Twill wash with briny tears my bed.
And chant a solemn dirg^e ;
No foot shall tread above my head, —
But roll the mighty surge !
The night-winds they will pass me by,
And sweep along the Sea;
And give to me a passing sigh.
Then toss the billows free.
SKA SONGS AND OCHAN OUES. 1 23
The Ocean's anthems sweet, will swell
Upon the midnight air :
Like funeral knell, on silv'ry bell.
While 1 am slumU'ring- there.
The solemn Ni.i;-ht will fold its winq;
So soft, o'er sea and sky :
And voices in the niyht will sing',
And call me up on Ili.^h.
The moon and stars will o'er me shine,
rhe Sea my grave caress ;
The Sea, so bounteous and sublime —
Will o'ei' my pillow press.
I lancy, yet I know not why
Such thoug-hts to me are given,—
The Sea hath union with on High —
A mystic- link with Heiiven.
The mighty Sea, the boundless sky.
The myriad grains of sand ;
All speak of one great Being on High,
Proclaim their Maker's Hand.
Sure as the billows ever roll,
His eye will mark the spot;
And He will call away my soul, —
He will forget me not.
Then bury me where waters lave
rhe shingle day by day ;
The rippling" wave shall kiss my grave. —
On shining" sands will play.
Heside the Sea I loved in life,
<3h, lay me gently there ;
Alar from all ihe busy strife,
Away from worldly care.
A lonely place, w licre none have trod.
Oh ! friends there lei me lie ; —
1 seem to feel so near to God, —
When I am bv the Sea.
124 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
SOLiACED.
The west wind howls, the wild sea rolls —
They sound like solemn dirges ;
The sea-me\vs cry, and downward fly
Towards the foaming" surges.
The sky droops down, with threat'ning frown,
Dark clouds roll on in masses :
The sea throws back, the heaven's black —
Each shadow as it passes.
The shore is bare, no form is there
To watch the Tempest's madness ;
He vents his wrath, and scowls at Mirth,
And turns her smiles to sadness.
The fisher's home stands in the gloom,
The v»-ind around it wailing;
The wife sits there, and breathes a prayer, —
For her old man is sailing-.
And all her sons, true-hearted ones,
E'en have their father's calling, —
All fishers brave, who seek the wave.
When evening shades are falling.
She lonely feels, yet near her steals
Young Hope, and Faith her sister;
They both are there, and do their share
To tenderly assist her.
To bide at home till those shall come
Again, who dearly love her;
She puts her trust, as good hearts must,
In One who reigns above her.
Hope sweetly sings, while Memory flings
A golden chain around her ;
With precious links, as now she thinks
That loving hearts surround her; —
Recalls the day they went awiiy,
And lingered to caress her;
When to his sons, in gentle tones.
The father said "God bless her ! "
She being secure, while they endure
The tempest on the ocean ; —
SKA SON(;S AM) (mKAN ODKS. 12^
A slorv tells — her Itosom swells
With tender, true emotion.
Now. from its nook she takes the Book
Which heals the heart when bleeding;
The Rook ol Life, the old lish-wiie
Can soothe herself with readin<jf : —
How, on the sea of Galilee.
(."Christ — ^when on earth He 'hided —
Said " Peace, be still ! ' — and at His will
The mighty storm subsided I
The Word of God. of men who trod
The earth in ayes olden.
.Sweet solace brings, for comfort clings
Around those treasures golden.
And by His word she trusts our Lord,
And prays that He will guard them; —
.Shield them from harm, amid the storm. —
And fortune will reward them.
Thf^n Peace coms near, and dries the tear
Which on her cheek had r|uivered ;
Till with her wiles, the old dame smiles.
And all her fears are shivered.
She shuts her eyes, while sweet good-byes
Ring fresh as they were spoken ;
No more she wee])s — for see I she sleeps —
And Memory's chain is ])roken.
ON LiEAVI^G THE SEA.
I'm Iea\iiig thee, my own dear sea,
Expanded in thy glory ;
Thy heaving breast is lulled to rest.
The night-mists gather o'er thee :
An«l Solitude, in soothing mood,
.Stoo|)s o'er thee u ith caresses ;
Thv wrath is past, thy waves have cast
Their crests, like silvery tresses !
Th\- spirit moans in undertones
.\s if t' were sadly sighing; —
X26 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE OATES,
A messag-e brincrs from far-oft things,
That in thy depths are lying".
Below the swell thy beauties dwell,
In peace for aye unbroken ;
Yet now I hear in music clear.
Sweet words, what though unspoken.
What dost thou think can be the link,
That binds me to thee only ?
O whisp'ring sea, what can it be,
That makes me sad and lonely—
When I depart, that in my heart
There lurks a vacant feeling.?
Unto me now, so sweet and low,
Thou art thyself revealing ;
From fathoms deep, where treasures sleep, -
Where precious pearls lie hidden ; —
From coral cells, and pink-v^'hite shells,
Thy spirit comes unbidden ;
For life is there, so wondrous fair,
In crusted caves and bowers ;
So clear and bright, yet hushed as night.
Amongst thy tangled flowers :
Along thy tide dim shadows glide, —
The night-clouds passing o'er thee,
Then meft away, like phantoms grey.
In legend and in story.
Now I must cross the murky moss.
Through corn-fields long and dreary ;
The poppies bright look black to-ni^ht.
And droop their heads aweary ;
And I must pass by meadow grass
By village dimly lighted ;
Bv darkling dell, by ford and fell,
When we are disunited ;
]\y sleeping town, by forest brown.
By farmsteads thatched and lowly;
By gurgling stream, with silvery gleam.
That wends toward thee slowly ;
By sylvan glen, by moor and fen.
By reed, and pollared willow;
I must be sped, before my head
Again may seek the pillow.
SEA SONGS AM' >>• \ \S ODKS. 12J
Ihu wiml l)lou.s (uld from off the wold,
My home lies far before me ;
In sleep profouml thy waves are liound.
And niyht-stiirs ^hiniiiu-r o'er thee :
Toward me now thy waters flow.
As they would fain embrace me ;
( iood-niii'ht, yood-nij^ht, no other si^ht.
From nit-mory will efface thee!
THE CAbbAHT LilFEBOAT CRECU.
God bless the g^allant lifeboat crews,
Upon our Island shore ;
Thcv earn our praise, who risking self, —
Imperilled ones restore.
Their deeds of mercy, and of love,
Are to their courag'c due ;
'1 hese noble, self-den}in<^ men —
The j^allant lifeboat crew.
Their fearless spirits render aid.
To vessels in distress,
They j)romptly '^o, with heart and soul.
To make the sufferini;- less.
They leave their loved ones safe at home.
These sailors «"ood and true,
'They dauntless, brave the rollini;;- wave —
The gallant lifeboat crew.
A minutes warning', and they rise
To man their boat in haste.
They launch it out upon the sea.
Nor precious moments waste.
With willing hanrls and hearts the)' brave
Storms wild as ever l)lew,
'The\ are true British •' Hearts ol Oak " —
The gallant lifeboat i-rew.
They dare all dangers of the main,
However dark the night ;
When fierce storms howl, and high seas roll.
'Thev go with all their might.
I2.S POEMS BY CHARLOTTE OATES.
And many a shipwrecked suffering' form,
With cheeks of pallid hue,
And fainting hearts, look up and bless —
The gallant lifeboat crew.
Then may kind Heaven protect these men,
When out upon the wave.
Who nobly run all risk, as they
Strive other lives to save.
And if God calls them to their rest,
These hearts so good and true.
May He ope' Heaven's portals for —
The gallant lifeboat crew.
And when from off the stormy seas
These men return no more ;
We'll trust that they have landed then.
Upon the Other Shore :
And may they make their peace with God
When Heaven is in view,
Then pass within the Harbour Bar —
The iraliant lifeboat crew.
THAT HOUSE BY THE SEA."
'l^HE summer is gone, and rich autumn is here,
The leaves of the trees are all drooping and sere :
But yet we are happy, why should we be sad .?
With brightest reflections to make our hearts glad.
There's a spot that is dear, what though distant it be,-
<lur visions fly back to that house by the sea.
I see it before me, as if I were there,
Its bright cheerful parlours, its carpeted stair :
When I listen a moment, methinks I can hear
The fond children's voices, so sweet and so clear :
T have joined in their jilay, and their innocent g"lee, —
Anfl have telt like a chil'i in that house I)y the sea.
SKA SONCS \\|) OCEAN OUES. 1 29
The sweet sniilin;,'' faces I now can recall,
Kind words from kind hearts. I remember them all :
In a warm Hood ot li,t,'"ht, I have siit on the hearth,
And shared in the lau.^-hter, the music, and mirth :
l)lest be those eveninf,'"s so joyous and free, —
1 have s|^ent in my life in that house by the sea !
There oft I awoke in the hush of the night,
And heard the sea surgfe, with the tide at its heigfht ;
The windows then shook with the force of the wind;
I picture me there still at nig-ht in my mind;
O vain the delusion ! no more 1 may see, —
Save in fancy, or dreamland, that house by the sea.
My Muse first apjjeared in that house far away, —
Made its infantile flight, on one bright summer day;
Thus I cherish the place, 'twas the scene of the [iride
That comes with success to the young anci untried :
It shines like a star in the distance to me.
And I cannot forg-et my loved home by the sea !
THE FLiEETLUOOD LtipEIBOAT
HEROES.
Who has not heard of (^oxswain Wright,
And of his dauntless lifeboat crew ?
Who toil with all their main and might
In fiercest storms that ever blew.
Who has not heard what noble work
Good Fleetwood's gallant boats have done ;
Their crews will ne'er their duty shirk,
No staunc^her men beneath the sun.
" Man the lifeboat '. Man the lifeboat ! '"
Hear, oh ! hear the cry ;
See Coxswain Wright old Neptune fight,
And all his wrath defy !
130 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
Oh ! oft they've passed through perils dire,
When off the treacherous lee-shore wild ;
Near Bernard's Wharf, upon the Wyre
Their deeds brought g"lory to the Fylde ;
For twenty-four poor Norsemen they
Befriended in an awful g'ale —
Two rescues made upon one day,
Through " Edith," and the " Child of Hale."
"Man the lifeboat ! Man the lifeboat : "
Does the cry appall ?
In blinding" storm each sturdy form
At once obeys the call.
The seaman, far from home and friends,
Tossed Lunewards from the raging- main,
If signals of distress he sends.
They never will be shown in vain ;
For Coxswain Wright will see them fly,
And promptly launch the lifeboat then ;
And steer o'er billows " mountains high,"
To save from death his fellow-men
" Man the lifeboat ! Man the lifeboat ! "
Hear the thrilling^ call ;
Good boats we boast around our coast,
And willing crews have all.
In storms we've heard the lifeboat gun
Boom in the night as dark as pitch.
And watched eacti mother's stalwart son
The lifeboat launch, without a hitch ;
Then every nerve and sinew strain
To reach in time the hapless wreck;
And seen them then return again,
With helpless sailors from its deck.
Help our lifeboats! Aid the shipwrecked
Sailors in distress ;
Oh ! stand beside our Nation's pride,
And God your efforts bless !
SKA SONCJS ANO OCKAN OUKS. I3I
ON SEEING THE LURECKED EATTbE-
SHIP " FOUDI^OYAHT " AT
BLiACKPOOli.
Poor vvoundeii ship ! in her death-throes lyinu''.
A relic true of the {glorious i)ast ;
Pathetic sij^ht to behold her dyin;,''.
We wait and w atch. till she breathes her last !
Mer ,t,^rand career all the while depictinof.
When youth was hers, in the years ofone by.
Sh<- dared the foe ; to her end now drifting".
The dear old warship, come here to die, —
Took i^art in scenes that are now historic :
Brave Nelson's flay-ship in days of old.
Where he has fig'ured in deeds heroii\
Whose valour won us such vict"ries bold.
The g-reat '• Foudroyant '" our shores defended.
Near ten decades have her triumphs been :
Poor battered hulk 1 now her work is ended.
She's drifted here for the final scene.
Staunch heart of oak ! with her timbers rotten.
Those yawning boards tell a touching tale :
Of laurels won, and of fame forgotten.
No more the waters she'll proudly sail.
Out-lived the " Anna."' and Troon's '• Aurora,'
That came to ease her, but found their fate.
Among the breakers : destroyed before her.
And left the monarch her doom to wait.
dismantled though of her guns and splendour.
Yet veneration her form inspires :
Old Nejjtune makes her at last surrender.
On P.lackpool's bosom she now expires I
I'artwell good ship I for thy naval glorj-
Has vanished now with thy i)recious past:
Thy death-bed here will complete thy stor\.
And "Rree/y Rlackpool" will view thee last.
132 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE OATES.
THE FISHEH Bf^OTHERS.
There's a mist on the sea Jack, and I am aweary
Of waiting" for luck, that seems never to come ;
life on the water is lonely and dreary,
I'm yearning just now for a peep at my home.
They'll miss us I know when at night they assemble,
And list' for the sound of our voices in vain ;
1 know my dear Katie, who cannot dissemble.
Will wish that her old man was with her ag'ain.
I see her just now, in the rocking- chair sitting-,
A smile on her g-entle face, loving- and sweet;
The while her fair hands will be busily knitting, —
The youngsters be playing their pranks at her feet.
And you lad, have ties, who will miss you already,
Your Mag-gie will long for a sight of her Jack :
Your wee bonnie lassie, and warm-hearted Teddy,
Will often be wishing their father was back.
When springtime comes round Jack, the loved ones who
Will meet us again, it they'll patiently wait ; [miss us,
I see the sweet bairnies come running to kiss us.
But until that time we'll resign them to fate.
'to'
1 think tiiat to-morrow I'll write them a letter.
Of last week's good catch I am anxious to tell,
And ril add that the pain in my head has got better —
And end it by hoping they're happy and well.
Tis pleasant to work for the siike of the money,
An.l Jack who can tell ? we may some day retire !
I've got a nice sum to take back to my honey.
And she shall have aught that her heart may desire.
For all that my heart's feeling mournful and chilly,
A sadness steals o'er me at close of the day ;
I think of the hours we have spent with poor Willie —
Who now lies asleep in his grave far away.
SEA soxiis ANU nci. \\ nni-s 133
l.ci us hope that his soul now is happy in Meaven,
'Tis useless his presence to try to recall ;
1 cannot but think that his sins were forgfiven —
I'Or he was the Nounycst, and best of u<: all.
There ! let's weii^h the anchor, and steer her more sea-
She'll cheerfully ,uo with the wind on ht^r beam: | ward.
The lines have all day been a-drifting to lee-ward.
And yond is the last of the sun's lurid gfleam.
He's sunk to his rest, and is weary of shininjj —
Has wrapt himself up in the mist, and has g'one;
The water is still, and the daylig-ht's declining-,
The lig-hts in the harbour, appear one by one.
Let's anchor far out on the sea now 'tis twilight.
And hope that to-nij^ht we may have a ifood catch';
Now you g"o below Jack, and dream until daylig-ht. —
While 1 stay on deck lad, and help to krep watch.
A Df^EAm OF THE SEA.
I s.\T in the evening" twilight,
A beautiful star shone down,
And kissed with its pale light tender,
The leaves of a burnished brow n.
I wove me a chain of fancies.
As the night winds whisi)ered low.
And lisped through the crimson leafage,
So rich with the autumn glow.
F"or there in the vesper twilight,
My si)irit felt not alone ;
A vision there came before me.
While heaven's bright jewels shone : —
Thev gleamed through the unveiled window,
And gave to that dream-fraught l-.our,
A touch of the peace around them.
The charm of a subtle power.
■34 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE DATES.
For there, as I sat and listened,
The sound of the wind-tossed trees
To me were the sweet vibration
Of waves of the distant seas : —
That brols.e with a measured murmur
And seemed of my dream a part ;
They beat to the rhythmic cadence,
Of music that filled my heart.
The sound was my soul's enchanter
And carried it far away;
I saw on the dancing water,
The lig-ht of a summer day.
I stood in a noble life-boat,
Nor far from the sea ; behold !
It flashed in the noontide's brightness,
All shot with the rays of gold.
A moment I wore the armour
Reserved for my brothers brave,
Whenever the voice of Mercy
Calls out "there are lives to save !""
Equipped in the lightsome girdle,
They wear in the tempest wild; —
No crown, but that badge of honour,—
I felt I was Neptune's child.
No queen in a regal galley
Could ever have felt more pride ;
But then, were the wavelets laughing —
At peace lay the sleepy tide.
A tale was to me unfolded, —
Brave deeds of the past reviev\cd ;
I saw the reflected glory,
Before me 'twas then renewed.
" Oh, what if I hear a summons,"
I thought, could 1 now obey.
And willingly answer " ready ! "
Or turn from the boat away ?
And then came a transformation,
I stood by a wind-churned sea;
And but for the darts of lightnin":,
'Twiis dark as a night could be.
And then came an echo stealinir
SEA SONGS AXU OCEAN ODES. 1 35
To me from the turbid deep :
That seemed as a requiem wailing",
For those it had rocked to sleep.
Then figures arose before me, —
The form of a seaman true
Stood firm at his post of duly,
In charge of the lifeboat crew:
.•\nd then at a given signal.
He fearlessly took command ;
Men fought at the lifeboat station
F"or oars, till the boat was manned.
And then on the surging" fury,
In face of the awful blast,
They launched with a brave strongf effort, —
Their lives to the storm were cast.
It seemed that the mercy-angel,
Had becked' o'er the Ijillows white;
They dashed through ihe sea-spray misty.
Till Io>t in the troubled night.
•' Great Storm, through the tribulation.
Oh spare them again," I cried,
" Nor mock at their British valour,
At leaving each dear one's side :
For they are amongst the bravest.
And boldest our land can boast ;
Then gather them not, 1 ask thee.
To lie with the sea-slain host."
I spoke to the Sea's wild spirit.
That moaned in the deepening gloom ;
" Remember they're g'oing to succour, —
Remember the claims of home ;
The scenes of thy wrecks are leg'"ion,
The |)rice of thy peace is great ;
Be good to the brave storm-warriors,"
I cried, for it held their fate.
Then came from its ruffled spirit.
A sign that I could not tell ;
But something that seemed responsive.
And told me that all was well.
I watched, but the vision faded,
Twas but an aiirial thing,
.■\nd lighter than snow-llakes falling.
136 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
Or touch of an unseen wingf.
I woke, as the amber firelig-ht,
Its shadows fantastic cast,
And found that the gossamer fabric
Had broken, — my dream had passed.
fl SECRET OF THE SEfl:—
O71 the mysterious loss of a tug-boat named ^'Secret" on
her fii st sea trip, October, l8g2.
The " Secret " sailed away one day,
In all her virgin pride,
Upon her maiden trip to sea,
Her powers all untried ;
With men aboard buoyed up with hope,
All unprepared with storms to cope.
She never reached her destined port.
Nor touched again the land ;
The mystery of her fate remains
In God's almighty hand.
We only know she sailed away
Upon a fair October day.
She might have struck when in a fog, —
Been wrecked by treacherous reef.
Or by a passing craft that stayed
Not by to give relief;
Did she her helm not answer well 1
Not one is left her fate to tell !
She might have foundered in a gale,
And left no trace behind ;
Would that thy message could, oh, Sea !
Be borne upon the wind ;
By chance thou only hast betrayed
That she upon thy bed is laid.
SEA SONGS AND OCEAN ODES. 1 37
Thou holdest in thy unknown depths,
Whilst tossing- in unrest.
Full many a ' secret ' that thy waves.
Ma\ u never once confessed ;
For man can ne'er those depths explore,
Such prey is thine for evermore.
Deep in thy breast, thou tyrant Sea,
The hidden " Secret '" lies;
Thou heedest not the widows' tears,
Nor yet the orphans' cries.
Oh ! set suspense and fears to rest,
Give peace to those who lo\'ed them best.
Oh ! fierce, remorseless, cruel Sea,
To thee I woulil jqipeal :
Didst thou o'erwhelm the poor frail cratt ?
The "Secret" then reveal !
There comes no nnswer to the shore,
Thy wa\es but thunder as before.
The vessel is by name and fate
A buried " Secret"' there,
Which thou, oh Sea 1 wilt not divulg-e,
Nor tell each dying- i)rayer :
It would £it least some solace be.
The mystery rests with God and thee !
A SEA-SIDE l^EVERIE.
Is it a dream that I walk again
On the yielding sand, by the murmuring main ?
Ah no I 'tis real, and I feel once more.
its brinv breeze on the wa\e-\\ashed shore.
It smiles on me in the sunlight warm.
And holds my soul with the same sweet charm
It had of yore, when my heart was young.
When ever)' care to the winds were flung-; —
Ere sorrow came with its burden sad. —
I3S POEMS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
Opprest the heart that was erstwhile y:lad ; —
Passed o'er my life, like a dark eclipse :
1 mias kind words from the dear cold lips
Of one beloved, who has walked wich me,
In b\\y:one days by the sur^^^ing- sea.
But sorrow sleeps ; and a peace steals o'er
My spirit, sweet as in years ot yore ;
The ordeal passed, as our wounds can heal,
Though scars be left, that we may not feel.
Now sunshine streams on my path again,
My pulse bounds free as the restless main ;
And youth comes back as I view the scene.
Of girlhood's pleasures that once have been ;
A fervour glows in my soul to-night,
My heart expands, as a new delight
Thrills all my being ; tor I feel the sea,
A spirit holds, that communes with me.
The wild-birds warble the woods among.
Their matins sweet, and their vesper song,
But all their music is not more dear
Then those deep tones that salute my ear.
I watch the water the smooth tones lave,
A life-throb flows with its every wave ; —
With every movement it takes a part
In music born in this happy heart.
Its grand old presence new themes inspire,
Responds, vibrates, as it wakes the lyre.
I watch the sun on its bosom sink,
From Memory's ch^Uice I freely drink; —
Imbibe sweet draughts, and without alloy.
Taste once cigain of the old-time joy.
Ah ! 'tis no dream that I muse again.
And feel the breath of the bounding main,
That bears no trace of each passing year.
But beams with beauty so fresh and lair.
Now rose-tmts rest on its surface blue.
The reflex bright of the heaven's own hue ;
Soon mist will fold it in night-robe white.
And I must bid it at last good-night !
SEA SOMJS AM) iiCKAN ODES. I 39
THE I^ESCUE.
"Canst thou see that vessel driftinyf,
In the offing-, far away;
Canst thou see it, slowly shifting-
Leeward, throug-h this Minding- spray?
" I have not sailed on the ocean,
Now for more than threescore years,
Not to know that yon ships motion
Gives us cause for gravest fears.
•■ rhere Ijchold : a signal Hying-,
Showing- she is in distress ;
Sailors brave may soon he dying-; —
Up and save them," — cries of " Yes."
" Lose no time, for if you tarry.
They will all have watery graves;
Jim, and Tom, and Jack, and Harry, —
Muster lads, and breast the waves !
•' Man the life-boat!"' at the watchword,
Men came near in numbers strong ; —
Helped unasked, in manly concord,—
Got the life-boat borne along-.
Vn ■
"Mid a shout of wild commotion,
While the gale more fiercely blew ;
It was launched upon the ocean. —
Never went a noljler crew !
Throug-h the surf, as shouts were ring^ing-,
Hard they pulled to gain the wreck;
Where the forms ot men wt-re cling-m.g
I'irmly to the wave-washed deck.
And the veieiaii, looking' seaward,
Proudly watched his sons di-part ;
Keenly g-azing'-, leaning forward.
While a thrill ran through his Iif;irt , —
I40 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
When he saw the life-boat tossing"
On the heaving-, swelling" sea ;
O'er its angry waters crossing", —
Bounding fast o'er surges free.
*• There ! " he said, "the lads are plucky,
They are making" headwjiy fast ;
Now they .gain her! — it is lucky —
For she's lost her mizen mast.
" If I stouter was, and stronger.
And my step was not so slow;
I'd have g"one — when I was young"er,
I have oft stood at the bow.
'• Now I can but watch the others,
But the waves obstruct my view;
Yet I cry with wives and mothers —
" May God speed the Life-boat Crew ! "
Men and women stood and shivered,
Underneath that frowning" sky;
Watched, while every muscle quivered,
As the breakers rolled up hig"h.
Waited, with a breathless long"ing".
Pressing" forward in a crowd ;
Then a cry of '• They are coming" ! "
Rose from voices clear and loud.
How the troubled st^a resounded.
How the breakers roared and splashed !
Gathered force, and then rebounded, —
As against the cliffs they dashed.
Said the old keen-sighted sailor,
" She is coming" shorewaui now;
Bravo ! now with pride I hail her,
For our Jack stands at the bow!
" Bearing" true brave-hearted fellows,
Comes the g"allant little craft ;
Mounting" o'er the tow'ring" billows
Lightly with the wind abaft."
SKA SONGS AM) DC KAN ODES. I4I
Near, upset, yet not defeated,
Bravely came the life-boat near ;
("lained thi' shore, the crew were greeted
With a hearty, deafnin^- cjifcr I
" Now my lads ! relatt:; the sK^ry,
Ye who have the tempest braved ;
What success ?" — with manly gflory.
Came the answer—" all are saved I "
Welcome words ! behuld them standing",
While a heli)ing hand they reach
l"o their shi|>wrecked brothers landing-.
Safely on the sandy beach.
Lord! when mighty storms assail us,
On the leeshore. and the deep ;
llelp the women, guide the sailors,
l^lace them safely in Thy keep!
THE BLiACKPOOLi LiipEBOAT CHBUX.
Htrkah ! for the boatmen of Blackpool again :
They've come to the fore in a praiseworthy way:
Their long-latent valour was 'roused as the main
Broke forth in wild fury, that ntr'er-forgot day.
A storm more terrific the coast never knew [wives.
Than that which they braved, leaving mothers and
To go on their mission, a staunch-hearie i crew.
They jeopardized freely their own precious lives.
Not once did the tempest those sailors deter,
For t\\ enty-one lives through their efforts were saved ;
A day's splendid record, we all must aver-
To resrue Unir brothers, all perils they l)rave(l.
We felt the fierce grip of the storm-fiend on land.
And «|uailed at its ravages, taunting" us still ;
But on tht.' Fylde foreland, thrice brave was the band.
That iought the mad sea, with such courage and skill.
142 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE DATES.
Their boat, once discarded, was put to the test.
For men of such grit could not passive remain ; [zest,
Thoug"h heavy, 'twas launched, and then manned with true
And oh ! with what triumph 'twas landed again.
In face of the g'ale on the waters that raved
They coped with the wrath of the white-billowed sea ;
They trusted her manfully, well she behaved —
Won nobly their victory, all must ag"ree.
The brave youth of Blackpool have shown us that they
Are worthy their fathers, who brought it renown ;
Upholding its glory, we bless them and say,
The town should be proud such brave fellows to own.
A cheer for the lifeboat's bold coxswain and crew !
For honour is due to each mother's loved son ;
And may they long" live to enjoy, and renew
Their well-deserved laurels, so gallantly won !
FflTHHt^'S BOAT.
Over the bay, over the bay,
The red sun throws its slanting ray;
Kissing the bright little waves as they
Ripple and break in silvery spray,
Over the boulder stones. ,
Over the bay 'neath the sun's last beam.
Comes father's boat on the waves serene,
The sunlight glinting in between
The sails, and giving a golden gleam,
As it comes over the bay.
Nearer, and nearer still it glides,
Over the water it gaily rides;
Returning home with the flowing tide,
Father comes to his little one's side,
Comes from far ^iway.
SEA SONGS AND OCEAN UDKS. ! JJ
Into the bay now sinks the sun.
It has lit the way for father to come;
The boat is here, and the day is done,
Ihe sun has sunk, and the shore is won.
After a dav of toil.
THE mAt^CATE LiIFEBOAT
DISASTER.
DECP:MBER 2nd. 1S97.
Onk morninLi" found those Margate men, with dear ones
safe at home.
With thou<,^hts that Christmastide was near, to cheer the
wintry yloom :
Those hardy, fearless fishermen, that day all stron*; and
hale,
Turnerl out to watch the whitening' sea, and niark<d the
g'atherinL;' .yale.
That freshened as the nii^^ht came on. and brought no
thou(,^ht of sleep.
It seemed as if a demon wild, howled on the treacherous
deep I
The while the temprst shrieked, and thund'rin:;- billows
rolled up high.
An all-night watch was kept, thoug'-h blac!; became the
midnight sky.
At morn, the lig-htships off the bar. their fitful signals
bore,
A mute appeal for hd]), from those upon the wild
leesliorc.
"Go, launch the lifeboat ! " at the cry. a sturdy stalwart
liand
Of lifeboatmen, obeyed the call, two boats were promptly
manni'd ;
■•friend to all Nations'" left ih.- strand, the boatmen's
surl-boal old.
I'uf out mid blinding- blast, upon the frenzied waters cold;
And one who meant to give " first aid."' went with that
dauntless crew,
144 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE OATES,
The morn was dark, the fierce tide ebbed, a strong wind
madly blew.
They from the harbour, through the surf, on Mercy's
mission went,
With strength of sinew, full ot hope, unto their oars they
bent.
But as they crossed the Nayland Rock, a loud cry pierced
the air,
Above the tempest's thund'rous voice, a wail ot wild
despair !
The surf-boat had capsized ! too frail to those white
billows ride.
The seas o'ervvhelmed her, and her crew were in the
swirling tide !
In sight of home, the men were tossed upon that seething
sea,
The craft that went to rescue lives, their " death-boat "
proved to be I
O'erturned, she drifted like a toy, the men clung to her
fast.
Till nine benumbed, were forced by death to loose their
grip at last.
God knows how many a voiceless prayer was breathed
when in the main,
While light'ning pictures of the past, before them rose
again.
But four, of all that noble crew, were saved by those on
shore, —
The rest their dearest ones on earth were doomed to
see no more.
Heroic, brave, unselfish men ! their souls, who thus have
died.
Would retuge in the Harbour find, across the Crystal
Tide.
The daybreak saw some 1)itter tears, that coast . was
wrapped in gloom.
For grief-torn were the women's hearts, while orphans
cried at home ; —
They'd kissed their dadas sweet good-night, before they
went to sleep.
And while they dreamed, their fathers dear, died on the
storm-racked deep ;
SEA SONGS AND OCEAN ODES. I 45
■When those sad little ones at morn, wept by their
mothers' side,
In vain they called their fathers back, no loving- voice
replied !
The women j^fathered on the shore, and strained their
eyes in dread,
To watch the fierce despotic sea, to them "cj-ive up its
dead."
And one poor woman, wild with grief, wept o'er each
sea-borne form.
Her husband dear, and two loved sons, were lost in that
g-reat storm I
And Christmas, which they thought to greet, with joy
like those of old.
Now finds them all 'neath sorrow's pall, their dear ones
stiff and cold !
We may not measure half their woe, nor guage their
deep distress ;
We aid, but God alone can all those mourners soothe
and bless ;
Bereft of loved ones, who have died while doing His
work of love,
He'll care for them, until thcv all unite again Above.
THE VETEHAH'S t^ESOLiVE.
How 1 love thee, dear old ocean !
And shall love thee to the last ;
I can ne'er without emotion.
Think upon the treasured past, —
Sjjent beside thee, and ui)on thee.
Playmate of my boyhood dear ;
And when manhood's years stole o'er me,
I would still to thee be near.
We have ever been good neighbours.
Nought with thee can be compared ;
Scene of all my honoured labours,
On thy breast I've perils dared.
146 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE OATES.
Comrade of my manhood early,
Still by thee will I remain ;
Though we've fought when thou wert surly,
Yet we soon were friends again !
In the stormy darksome midnight,
I have tossed upon thy breast ;
And have rocked in summer sunlight.
When thy wrath was calmed to rest.
Some may court the inland meadows,
But I can the hap]:)iest be,
Watching heaven's lights and shadows,
Play upon the restless sea : —
Hearing Neptune's deep tones making
Mellow music, as of yore ;
As the ceaseless waves come breaking.
In their gusto, on the shore.
There's one spot to me now sacre 1,
By the broad expansive sea ;
Deemed by none so venerated.
Yet 'tis all the world to me !
Once upon it, I remember,
Stood a cottage, white and worn ;
Rich to me with memories tender,
'Twas the house where I was born.
On the shore, where west winds bracing
Blew upon it, stood that cot ;
Now I'll build another, facing
Seawards, on the self-same spot!
There in freedom, at my leisure,
Through my window I can gaze;
Watch the sea-crafts sail w ith pleasure.
And recall the bygone days.
'Mong the hearts that love me warmly.
And are well beloved bv me ;
I will spend life's evening calmly,
Basking by the glorious sea.
SKA SONCS AND Ol KAN UUKS. 1 47
Where fiimiliar scenes surround me
In my far-famed native town;
I will, with old mates around me,
Dwell until my sun ;4'oes down.
Then when 1 ha\e HvlmI my portion,
And these eyes at last j^row dim ;
I shall hear the grand old ocean,
Sin^-- to me a partin.i^' hymn I
THE HEROES OF THE pVLiDE.
All hail the sons of Lancashire ! what other land can
boast
Such bold and valiant men as those that frinye our
western coast ;
They've shown us all w^hat they can do, displayed their
seamen's skill.
And j)roved to us that they are men of iron nerve and
will.
The valour latent in their hearts, the mighty tempest
tests.
For fear finds never once a place of refuge in their
breasts.
The Fylde men on the leeshore wild, all waited firm and
brave,
And watched for signals of distress gleam on the troubled
wave.
St. Annes was staunch, what though she still remembers
to her cost
How once in answering Duty's call her lifeboat crew
were lost !
Courageous still, the "Brothers" saved a. schooner's
crew of four,
Who, stranded on the Salthouse Bank, were safely
brought ashore,
i he honour of the noblest work to Fleetwood boatmen
fell;
They answered mute appeals lor help — did Mercy's
mission well.
I 48 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
They marked the aspects of the storm, and saw its
gathering- force,
No vessel fighting- such a gale they knew could hold her
course.
One noble and unselfish deed, alas ! with death was
fraught ;
The smacks while making into port were in tne tempest
caught.
One, bravely battling- with the storm, in direst straits
though laid,
Descried a schooner, whose poor crew in pity sought
their aid :
Compassion filled the fishers' hearts, though in the
tempest's brunt.
They took the strangers off", but lo ! the waves capsized
their punt.
Two brave young smacksmen and the crew, before the
skipper's eyes.
Went to the deep. Oh ! was it not a noble sacrifice ?
In thoughtful sympathetic hearts must sound the notes of
. woe,
But through the gospel let us hope that they were fit to go.
All night a sliarp look-out was kept; at last a fitful light
Flashed in the dark, near Bernard's Wharf, anon 'twas
lost to sight.
Then in the howling hurricane, there went a thunderous
boom.
The lifeboat gun was sounded forth, ere daylight broke
the gloom !
While winfl-lashed billows rose and swirled, and broke
with deafning roll,
Like mighiv demons slipped their chains, and broken
from control ;
While drenching torrents poured and helped the fury of
the gale.
They quickly manned and launched the boat, the gallant
"Child of Hale."
The friendly tug-boat tow-ed her out, along the channel
dark.
She passed the Wyre light, then she reached the hapless
drifting barque.
SEA SONCS AND OCKaN ODES. 1 49
Oh ! noiu- mav know, hut those who went, the hardships
that they l)ore.
Hut this we know, the haniue's whole crew they safely
liroui^ht ashore 1
Thouiih thev were delu^^ed o'er and o'er between the sea
and sky.
They thirteen " hardy Norsemen " .saved, while seas
" ran mountains hiuh ! "
Undaunted still, a second time they donned the belts that
day.
For yet another barque was wrecked, to Luneward from
the Ray.
Beyond the lig-hthouse, on the Wharf, the barque had
found a strand,
This time, the gallant Fleetwood crew the lifeboat
" Edith " mannetl.
Salvation once ag-ain they took, and untold dang-ers
braved.
Eleven poor Norwegians then, their dariny efforts saved.
In every storm the Nation finds some heroes on our shore.
And now in g-lorious rescue work, 'lis Fleetwood to the
fore I
Their arduous service of that day, with pride we now
record.
Has twenty-four of Norway's sons to home and triends
restored.
Where-e'er those Scandinavians be, when storms rage
fierce and wild,
They'll breathe a prayer for Heaven to bless the Boat-
men of the Fvlde !
''BEAUTIFUL! BLiACKPOOU."
Beautiful Blackjjool ! I sue thee again !
Rising before me, fair (|ueen of the main I
Tall and majestic, thy Tower now stands.
Facing the sea, and the bright golden sands.
Beautiful Blackpool. l)eloved by the sea.
That si)orts with thee now in its boisterous glee;
Often 'tis coming to kiss thy fair fact'.
Clasping thee too, in its mighty eml)race.
I 50 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE OATES.
Beautiful Blackpool, for truly thou art
The theme of youth's day-dreams, the joy of my heart ;
Bright scene of my pleasures, unknown to my tt-ars.
Thou dearer hast grown with the passage of years !
Beautiful Blackpool, since childhood I own.
My fancy has woven, and o'er thee has thrown
A rosy-hued mantle, just ting'ed with romance,
That clings yet, and seems all thy charms to enhance.
Beautiful Blackpool, I'm coming' once more,
To visit thy briny-washed, tempest-tried shore ;
Oh ! there is the sea ! with its balmy breath sweet,
Laden with kisses its lover to greet.
Beautiful Blackpool ! I look on thee now.
And feel thy soft breezes caressing my brow;
And oh ! when I listen, I hear once again
Thy murmuring waves, with their ceaseless refrain.
Beautiful Blackpool, my song must now cease,
Though each time I see thee thy beauties increase ;
The magical spell that endears thee to me
Is found in thy wind-ruffled, solemn-voiced sea!
Beautiful Blackpool, what sea is like thine ?
Uncurbed, and expansive, the whole vision-line :
What wind is so bracing, and blows with such zest.
As that of thy health-giving, soul-cheering west ?
Beautiful Blackpool, no languag'e can tell
My love for thy sea, and which nought can dispel ;
Nothing but death, oh ! thou glorious sea,
Can sever the love-link that binds me to thee !
music 01^ THE UUflTEl^."
Music on the water,
As we sail along
O'er its silent surface,
Listen to our song:
SEA SONGS AND (ITKAN ODES. Kl
Sweet iind mellow voices
Swell upon the fleep ;
Fairies dance around us,
Waken'd from their sleep.
F'rom the depths of orean
To its surfiice bright,
They have come to hear us,
Singing- to the night.
Will you rome and join us ? —
Join our little hand ?
We are softly sailing
Far away from land.
Music on the water,
As we glide away
O'er the stilly surface.
Where there is no spray;
The sea is like a mirror,
Smooth and glassy l)right ;
The crescent moon is shining
With a silvery light.
We skim along the ocean,
In our little l)oat,
With its gentle motion
How we gaily float !
Will you come and join us.' —
We are sailing far.
O'er the moon-lit waters.
From the harbour-bar.
Music on the water,
Snowy sails are set,
Sleeping are the zephyrs ;
I'.very oar is wet
With the salt sea water :
On we gently glide,
Ilajipy voices blending,
Waiting lor the tide.
There is not a ripple.
All is calm and bright.
Placid are the waters.
'Tis a balmv nii^ht.
152 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
Will you come and join us ?—
In our little boat,
O'er the tranquil ocean.
Sounds of music float.
Music on the water,
What is half so sweet ?
With the moon above us,
How the moments fleet !
The limpet and the scallop,
With their pinky shells.
Listen to our voices
As the music swells.
The sea in lonely splendour,
So beautiful and clear.
Music rich and tender.
Calling" fairies near.
Will you come and join us .''—
Join in our delight, —
Music on the water.
On a moonlig-ht night.
THE ocEflpl moi^flf^cHs.
Ye white-wing"ed rovers throug^h the pathless deep,
Like living; thing's, ye speed from land to land;
Thro' Neptune's wide dominions ye sweep.
Beloved by Britons, dear to every strand !
Ye sailing- ships, with canvas spread so fair.
Extended freely in the fresh'ning- breeze;
It g^leams so white, as ye are moving' there —
Like wide-spread pinions, scudding' o'er the seas.
With flags that flutter gaily in the breeze,
As on the ocean's beating breast ye glide :
So gracefully, ye monarchs of the seas,
A sight imposing 011 the waters wide.
SEA SONMJS AN'I) OCKAN OOKS. I 33,
Thu pride of Britain— toilers throu;^li llie storms,
The boast and .yiory of our sea-Liirt Isle ;
And as we jj^aze ui)on your n(jble forms.
We see man's power reflected there the while. —
How beautiful ye look upon the main.
And beariny- human froi;,^hts. of mirth and woe ;
Their floatin-- home, till they shall land a.yain,
1 hey trust ye, — though the sea prove friend or loe.
The bearers of our messaji^es are ye, —
A Ijond of union over all the world ;
By sail and steam, ye cleave the trackless sea,
Blest be the ships with Engiand's flag unfurled !
When in the docks your broad demensions seem
So powerful and strong from stem to stern ;
And masts gigantic, from the decks are seen,
But on the sea your frailty we learn.
When tempests rage — 'tis then we see ye bend.
Seem but as floating leaves upon a stream ;
Your insignificance we comprehend.
When tested by the Mighty Power unseen.
A thrilling sight— majestical, and fine !
1 hose stately ships that proudly plough the sea;
By them we trade with lands beyond the brine,
Divided though a thousand leagues they be.
What had the commerce of the nations been.
If 'twere not for this grand and mighty link ?
Connecting lands, though oceans roll between.
That country may with sister country drink.
By them we can unite in friendship there.
Man shake his brother's hand across the main :
And Mother P^ngland join her children lair.
By them uphold her dignity and name.
A ship is launched — behold it glide awa)'.
And spring into the world ot waters free ,
No longer landlocked, then it seems to say —
" Hencefordi mv home is on the rollmg sea.'
154 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE DATES,
It seems to wake to life, with joyous sound,
To ft d the waters, as it bounds ahead ;
And when a shattered, bare-ribbed hulk is found —
Resembles some poor creature lying dead.
Oh ! give three cheers for England's gallant Fleet,
The bold protectors of our sea-kissed shore ;
Then as we love our liberty so sweet, [more !
For England's Sovereign, — give three times three
LiOSTI
The Mackerel Boats are sailing
In beauty side by side ;
They leave the bar, and sail afar,
All with the midnight tide ;
They're steering for the fishing ground.
Before the break of day ;
The pale soft light of planets bright,
Illumes their trackless wixy.
They glide along serenely,
Beneath the midnight stars ;
The night is warm, no sign of storm.
The placid beauty mars :
No gale distends their russet sails,
No clouds obscure the sky;
The sea's at rest, and on its breast
No boding shadows lie.
They're anchored now in silence.
Upon the slumb'ring' sea ;
No billow breaks, nor wind awakes,
'Tis still, as still can be :
No sound is heard among the crews, —
'Tis like a fleet asleep ;
They throw the bait, and cjuietly wait,
Their fortunes on the deep.
SEA SONtJS AND OCEAN ODES. 155
The sun arose in splendour.
Alike on sea and land.
It threw a ray across the bay.
And ^ilch'd all the strancl :
But when it set, it left behind
A ^old and crimson lig'ht,
Till like a flame, the sky became,
Then waned to sable ni^ht.
The wind beijan to murmur,
In whispers soft and low ;
Then gathered strength, till lo ! at length,
A gale began to blow :
It wailed around the lonely <iuay,
(Ihii smacks had not come home) ;
No midnight hush, hut roll and rush,
Disturl/d the gathering gloom.
One long unbroken tremor,
Swelled uj^ward from the deep ;
Its dream had broke", its vengeance spoke-
A giant roused from sleep ;
For days the dreadful tempest raged,
For days the billows tost.
The Boats no more came back to shore,
For iiU the Fleet was lost !
Oh ! trusting man, how soon oppressed !
The foam-flecked waters ne'er confessed ;
Oh ! hai)less Fleet. Oh ! tyrant Sea.—
Jeho\ah holds the mystery!
THE FAIt^V BflP^K-
"TwAS Christmas K\e, when the Land is rile
With mirth and love, and the cares of life
Are laid aside, and when fond hearts greet ;
When rich and poor for a season meet
As brothers all, and our souls expand,
And join each other throughout the land.
1^6 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE OATES.
" Peace and goodwill " for the season tends
To make us glad, as the heart unbends ;
A blessed time, for both old and young,
Since first Christ's glorious name was sung.
A sailor stood by the bright sea shore,
A brave kind look all his features bore : —
A genial smile on his bronzed tace played.
As there he stood, and the while surveyed
A little boat, that was by his side,
And his bearded face wore a look of pride.
To see the work that his hands had done, —
The ropes and sails that he one by one
Had trimmed and set; and the colours gay
He had painted there; thus in bright array.
She almost looked like a living thing 1 —
A graceful bird, with its out- spread wing,
And plumage bright, as if fain 't would be
Set free to rove on the rippling sea.
So fair she looked by the wave-kissed sands.
And all the work of his strong brown hands !
He'd traced a name on her side with care,
In golden letters it glittered there ;
And thus completed, all spic-and-span,
He marked her beauty, and formed his plan.
His task was over, his arms at rest
Enfolded were on his massive chest ;
He eyed her well, and at last said he, —
" Go find thy namesake, where e'er she be ;
Without a skipper, without a crew,
I'll launch thee now, for I know thou'rt true ;
And she who claims thee will love thee best.
And give thee shelter, and give thee rest.
I know not whither thy namesake dwells ;
But find her out, ere the Christmas bells
Ring out to-mcjrrovv o'er all the earth,
Then seek a harbour midst love ^md mirth;
But none the work of my hands must claim.
Unless thou knowest she bears thy name ;
I'll put thee olf on the proper tack,
To seek thy fortune, and come not back ! "
SKA SONCS AND OCEAN ODKS. I 57
Thus she was charg-ed, and was sent alone
To tind unaided her future home ;
And as she went from her master's siy-ht.
His dark eyes beamed with a merry lii^ht :
For pleased he was, as he well mi,i!:ht be,
For never a trimmer craft than she
Went on a voyage ; nor looked more neat,
With fing-ers deft she was rig-g-ed complete : —
None g-ave more proof of a seaman's skill
In every detail, to sail at will
Unmanned she started, and went away,
Upon the eve of the natal day.
There lingered still on the seascajie dim,
A dull red band where the sun's last rim
Had dropt from si.ght, on the misty verg-e
Where sea and sky in the distance merge ;
Its good-night kiss to the land it gave.
Then sunk to rest in the western wave.
For hours and hours she was lig-htly tost
Hither and thither, but never was lost ;
Like some poor wandering friendless child.
Seeking- a home from the night-winds wild; —
Seeking her namesake all the while.
Longing for rest and a welcome smile.
She sailed, and siiiled, through the darksome night.
And then at last when a streak of light
Dawned in the east, and a soft wind blew.
.She steered for land, though she lacked a crew ;
Her bow she turned to a shore so fair,
While songs of caroUers filled the air
With music sweet, as the shore she neared,
And gleaming- lights of a town appeared ;
When stars grt-w pali- in the dawn-lit sk\-.
A wind from heaven went sweeping by.
And wafted her to a frost-bound land,
A fairy bark on a beauteous strand I
And there she paused like a timid bird,
While ( heery greetings around were heard ;
And hvnins of praise to the skies were borne.
To hail the light of that Christmas morn.
I^S POEMS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
When darkness all from the skies had fled,
The g-rey-hued morning- blushed rosy red :
The sun arose in the glowing east. —
In splendour shone on the natal feast : —
Shot forth its rays on the wintry scene,
And touched the boat with a dazzling sheen ;
Revealed her name on her timbers bold,
Lit up in letters of shining gold.
As strangers passed on their joys intent,
A wondering look on the boat they bent ;
Then at a pause in the minstrels' song,
A maiden stept from the surging throng;
She scanned the craft, with unfeigned dtlig-ht,
The name upon it had caught her sight;
A happy look on her face there came,
She read upon it her own true name !
And then her way to its side she made,
And eager hands on its timbers laid ;
Said she " some fairy with kind intent,
This tiny vessel to me has sent:
Though all alone, and without a crew,
She's fraught with wishes all good and true ;
A mystic helmsman that none can see,
Has guided her in her course to me ;
And laden thus she has found this strand,
I'll claim her now and I'll take command.
This fairy bark shall henceforth be mine."
A charm that others could not devine.
She had for her, as with joy so sweet,
She bore her off to her own retreat.
She grasped the tiller, and steered her well.
Through noisy streams, to a woodland dell ;
And far away from the busy town,
Where nature smiled in its ermine gown ;
Its jewels born of the artic night.
Were flashing there in the red sunlight,
That glancing, touched with a ruby ting-e,
The trees all hung- with a silvery fringe.
Its frost-gems gleamed on the crinkled leaves.
On tassels hung- from the drooping eaves.
Of a harbour sacred to peace and love ;
Naught but the coo of the grey-winged dove
SKA SONGS AND OCKAN ODKS. I ^(^
The silence limkc: Iiltc the maiden paused,
Ere slie the door of her home unclosed ;
F"or all at once o'er the woods and fells,
There came the sound of the Christmas bells !
A joyous peal that we love to hear,
l^rom many a belfry far and near:
They entered there at the friendly bower,
Where berries red, and a winter flower.
Bedecked the walls, and the fretted pane ;
The inmates all, as in one g"rand strain.
Their voices lifted to give their g'uest,
A welcome free to her home of rest. —
A haven sweet with the maiden there,
The object bright of her pride and care,
The boat was anchored, her voyag'e past,
A refuge safe she had found at last;
Ere nig-htfall there she was laid to rest,
Like a white-wing^ed bird in its peaceful nest.
ON THE f^ETURfl OF Dl^. NAJMSEIM'S
ARCTIC EXPEDlTIOfl,
AUGUST, 1S96.
We welcome back those stalwart Norsemen bold.
Who bravely dared to sail the Arctic deep ; —
To face that barren reg^ion's rigorous cold, —
The clime where Neptune calmly lies asleep.
Asleep? nay more, embalmed in shimmering shrouds.
'Neath gleaming- ice-peaks, rests lie far below
Their massive, solemn g-randeur ; o'er which clouds
Discharg-e but freights of purest frigid snow.
Why is it there that Neptune is cong-ealed —
The monarch PVost holds him in strenuous grifv'
His throi)bing being- so petrified, concealed,
That his roug-h bosom scarce can float a ship .'
l60 POKMS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
Is he enchained by bright Aurora's smile ?
(For there, the northern heavens, hold her seat) ;
That ice-bound, crystallized, he stands the while.
Mute and majestic, there before her feet !
Inviolate those depths must ever be.
Where sombre Nature rests secure and wild, ,
No wave uplifts on placid Polar Sea,
Its trackless wastes lie dumb and undefiled
By human feet ; for Poleward there afar,
No man has pierced the crystal ice-bound zone ;
Yet does the sailor's guiding" compass-star
Hang o'er and guard those virgin regions lone.
The while from us it yet keeps unrevealed
The secret of that spot that knows its light ; —
The untrod circle still from us concealed
By ice blocks cold, and by its long long night.
Brave Dr. Nansen ! he for three long years
Has traversed through that ice-barred unknown realm.
Subsisting there upon its Polar bears.
Surmounting dangers which would most o'erwhelm.
With his stout crew to man the " Fram," he went,
As valorous as the Vikings were of old ;
To r each the Pole they sailed with full intent, —
Drift with the current 'mongst its icebergs cold.
A portion of that vast unknown they crossed,
For miles and miles they pushed their pathless way ;
Through broad expanse, in keen eternal frost
That scarce relaxed through Arctic summer day.
Pierced they leagues further than had been explored,
And when the faithful, gallant " Fram " was fast.
Brave Nansen, with one comrade who ignored
The cold, like him, set out 'mid northern blast,
And penetrated that locked ocean white, —
Taxed to the utmost all their manhood's strength, —
Braved its drear winter's hard ]K'r|)etual night,
Till huge ice-barriers stopi)ed their course at length.
SKA SONMJS AND OCKAN ODKS. l6l
Enurapt in furry armour, they have shared
The Arctic's splendid solitude, and come
From those hii,'"h latitudes, where hard they fared.
With pluck undaunted, and with honours won.
Now they recount how they have perils faced,
That (lid their faith and courag^e rig-htly guagc ;
Kach other's sole companion, they have traced
Their names upon the world s historic pag'e.
Across the crystal desert, side by side,
With nauyht to cheer the weary \van<lerer's eye,
But seas solidified, above the tide,
Whose pinnacles of ice loom "g^ainst the sky; —
Naught sa\e when bear or walrus crossed their ways.
Or sea-bird passed above the ice-blink bright ;
All winter dark, but when auroral rays,
Or moon, illumed the ice-scaj^e with their light.
For months ami months not e'en one Ii\in.g thing
Once crossed their \ision in that fastness drear;
On fields of bleak unyielding ice, the Sjiring
But signs of constant daylight brought to cheer.
Then in returning", sounds of dog-barks broke
The dream-like silence, falling on the ear
Like welcome music, as the echoes woke,
For lo I they found brave Jackson's band were near.
Dear tellou-mep ! though there from different i)arts.
They met as brothers where the waters sleep;
In other climes thoug-h strangers, there their hearts
Warmed to each other on the frozen deep.
Tor there the l-jiglish expedition met
The i)old Norwegians, on that coast obscure- :
And brought them safe, by sea-fogs though beset.
To native fiords, to dwell 'mong frien<ls secure.
Thus he has ct)me, his task accomplished now.
We hail i)rave Nansen, for he knew no fear.
Back from the regions of eternal snow,—
Back to his wife and little ihiM most ilear.
1 62 POEMS BY CHARLOTTK GATES.
Faint with o'erjoy was that young loving wife,
For brave suspense for months her part had been ;
To see him safe and full of vigorous life,
O'erwrought her feelings at the greeting scene.
We've traced his course from this our sea-girt isle.
And marvelled that such courage never wanes :
Why should we marvel .-' knowing all the while
That Scandinavian blood runs in his veins.
All nations' interest has been centred in
The famous " Fram," whose fate was long unknown
Bold Nansen reached a point none dared to win.
And Norway now is proud to claim her own !
Thrice welcome then, ye heroes, who have been
Within the far-off mystic circle white:
Defied its rigour through lone days, and seen
The spectral splendours of the Arctic night !
THH "Bf^flDFOHt>" TO THE
l^ESCUE I
When storms of wind, and rain and sleet,
Convuk-e the ocean's mighty breast;
And mingled with the thunders roll,
All nature shrieks in wild unrest —
Then hear we of our sailors,
Full many a touching tale.
These men that are our nation's in ast..
Must wrestle wiih the gale.
And when across the bleak North Sea
The scathing bliz/ards wildly sweep,
A helpless vessel strikes the shoals,
Our coastmen may not stand and weep-
'Tis " Bradford to the rescue ! "
When danger must be braved;
The gallant boats we own with pride.
Eight hundred lives have saved !
SKA SONUS AND OCEAN OUKS. 163
Wrecked on the treacherous Gootlwin Sands,
Thus many a hark her fate has met.
And crfws are nolily saved li\' those
Whom we to-day should not forget :
Then j^-ive these £,^allant boatmen
Support where'er you he —
They are the sturdy coastmen brave
That fiirht the fierce North Sea.
Most hearts ha\e some they know and love
Whom they must trust upon the deep :
Such tremhle when a fearful yale
Awakes them from a i;)eaceful sleep :
And when the bleak north-easter
For lon^- has madly hlown.
The litehoatmen upon the shore
May give us back our own.
The nation does a glorious work,
Through all her boats around the coast;
Each manned by staunch, unflinching men,
Of whom our sea-girt land can boast.
This noble institution
Through us must never fall ;
Uphold it. then, all you that can.
And God will bless you all !
H.m.s. ataljaHta.
A Traiiiing Ship, supposid io have founded in the
Atlantic Ocean in Fehruaiw iSSo.
Shk sailed when the ocean was trantiuii and calm,
Nor feared that the waves might be ruffled by storm
She carried the light of many a home,
Who departed in faith, and knew not their doom.
In the blossom of youth on the ocean would toil,
With the sinew and strength of the sons of our soil :
( )ur sailors in future, the stronghold to be, —
Of this beautiful land that is clasped by the sea.
164 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE OATKS.
In future ? alas ! they were destined to sleep,
Ere the fruits of their labour their country might reap.
Oh ! who cannot feel for each mother's sad heart,
As it pines for the son she with pride saw depart ;
While hope g;aily rode on the g-allant ship's prow,
And smiled, as it beamed on each young- sailor's brow.
But 'twas shattered, and faded like sparks from the fire. —
On the breast of the deep it was doomed to expire :
They cherished it long-, but it fled like a dream.
When the valiant crew long- had basked in its beam.
They trusted the ship as she bore them away.
But where has she buried them ? ah, who shall say !
Manned by young" Britons in g-lory she sailed, —
But her fate on the main is in mystery veiled.
Did she stray from her course 'mid the vapours of nig-ht,
And strike on a reef, when there ling-ered no lig-ht .•"
She, perchance, may have answered untrue to the helm ;
Did the force of a storm, in its veng'eance o'erwhelm
In the wrath of a moment, and g-ave her a blow.
That shivered her timbers, and laid her so low?
She might have been lost when the waters rose high.
And over the billows hung darkly the sky ;
While tlie wind with a moan, like a great living thing.
Swept over the deep, bearing- death on its wing.
Then tempest would conquer, and she would be tossed,
And rocked on the ocean, and then would be lost.
God sent his winged messenger down from on high.
To carry their spirits away to the sky :
O'er the deep it descended, with pinions of white,
And bore them al)Ove to the regions of light.
And many a cry must have died on the wave.
That opened and folded the men to their grave; —
From many a voice, with the strength of despair, —
Only God, and the ocean, would hearken their prayer.
'J'he names of their loved might have been their last
l^reath.
Have blessed them while feeling the clutches of death.
Now peace be upon them, who rest there so low,
Hut the S[)ot where they slumber we never may know :
Or many a vessel while ploughing the deep,
Would pay them its homag-e, those hundreds that sleep ; —
SEA SONGS AND OCKAN ODES. l6S
W'oukl lower its pennon, while crossinjj- their ^rave.
And silently s^iil o'er the heads of the brave :
Would ofl'er a tribute, some token betray,
That we honour the memory of those far awa\-.
Then think of the orphans who mournfully weep.- -
The children whose fathers were lost on the deep :
Oh, God ! in Thy g'raciousness hear them r omi)lai!i.
And offer Thv "uidance to those that remain I —
Comfort the hearts of the widows now left,—
Have pity upon them, alone, and bereft !
The homestead is j^'loomy, the lodestar is fled, —
The hands that would help and sui)i)ort them are dead.
We know what their angfuish and heartache must be,
For those who mysteriously perished at sea :
They yearn for the tiding-s, that never may come.
Of a father, a brother, a husband, or son.
Not a messag'e was sent, for no vessel was niyh.
In the midst of the waters each man had to die ;
Ere he sent a remembrance to those who were dear.
To lessen their sorrow, and soothe the sad tear.
Not a sailor was sj)are(l to relate us the tale.
For their fate is enwrapt in obscurity's veil.
We cannot recall them amonijst us aj^ain.
Yet honour, and g"lorv, will clintr to each name.
Then offer a prayer for the souls of the brave,
Who silently slumber beneath the cold wave.
SOHG OF THE HOmEUUAf^D BOUHD.
Tuii sunlight is streaming upon the blue ocean.
The waves ripple lightly, with musical sound :
Our hearts are elated, and throb with emotion.
For home^to old I*'ngland our good ship is bound!
With canvas extended, like white wings, she bears us
From far foreign .strands to the "Land of the Free;
Where fond loving hearts will be ready to cheer us,
And welcome our vessel from over the sea.
I 66 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
The creaking- of spars, and the sound of her cleaving-
The beautiful waters, all make a g-lad song ;
The sun warms her deck, where the soft g'entle heaving-
Is felt, as she gallantly bears us along.
She carries the ensign of Britain so proudly,
That gives her a right to preside o'er the sea ;
A claim for all ships to salute her so loudly,
Where-e'er on the breast of the ocean she be.
She bore us throusrh storms when the billows were
Like rolling of drums in a mi-^^hty affray; [sounding
And over her bulwarks at intervals bounding.
And washing her deck, in their boisterous play.
She bore us past icebergs, that looked in their splendour
Colossal, majestic, among the sea-waves ;
The sunlight behind their tall pinnicles slender,
With opaline flames lit their crystaline caves.
We touched on the shores where the rich vines are
creeping.
And sweet-scented orange groves smile 'neath the sun :
But dearer than all is the Land we are seeking,
And we shall rejoice when the harbour is won.
The bright rippling water the ship's side is laving,
And white danc ng foam in her wake may be found ;
From top-gallantmasts the gay streamers are waving.
That seem to proclaim that she homeward is bound.
Her sails are all filled with the soft breeze refreshing,
As over the waves she is bounding away ;
And hark ! the sweet lap of the waiters, caressing
And kissing her timbers with silvery spray.
The blue vault of heaven beams tranquilly o'er us,
The glistening sea is reflecting its hue ;
All tempests are past, and our home is before us, —
A beautiful gem in the waters so blue !
Hurrah ! for that speck in the distance reposing,
So calm and sert-ne, and enclasped by the deep ;
Ere long we shall reach it, but day will be closing,
And peace will have fallen o'er woodland and steep.
SEA SONOS AND OCEAN ODES. \6j
Oh I many hrii,'-ht lands 1 have seen the World over.
But none are so dear as fair Alhion to nvt :
My heart yivcs a bound, when ihe white clifTs of Dover
Kirst break on my view, as they rise from the sea I
THB LilFEBOAXmAfJ'S LUIDOLU Ar4D
orRPHAN.
'•Dauas stoii]iin'.4' I Where's he (ion to?
Me's been waiting,'' many a day :
Xow me s tired, take me, Mama —
Eddie wants no more to play.
Dada went olT in a hurry —
In the wild-wind, and the rain;
Will you take me now, and tell me
When will he come back ag'ain .-
" Me can see the water yonder.
Coming' nearer up the sand ;
Is it going to bring my Dada —
Is the boatie going to land .•'
Take your 'pandies' from your temples.
Mama, has you dot a pain .-*
AVill you speak and tell me truly.
When -tv7/ Dada come agfain ?
*f>"
•• Dada kissed me in a hurrv.
When that big" dun made a noise, —
Went i)efore he'd finished mending
Me these little brokiMi toys.
Me can't play till he has mended
This here little railway-train ;
When will Dada come to Eddie —
Tell me, when he'll come again .•*
• If my Dada's gont* and leli mr.
Tell me what is me to do .'
Take your apron from your ' peepies '-
Mama, is r^// cr)ing too.'
1 68
POKMS 15V CHARLOTTE OATKS.
Lift me up to look lor Dadii :
Me is cold, my feet is numb:
And I w ant to see my Dada —
Tell me when he's i>-oini^- to come ?
*
"My child, my child," the mother said.
" He'll come no more to thee ;
Thy father went to sleep, my love,
That night upon the sea.
He will return to us no more —
He landed on a happier Shore.
•• That niyht, ui^on the angry sea,
God loved thy father so.
He sent an ang-el from Above
To bid his spirit g'o :
It spread its ho\ering- wiiig-s so white.
And bore his soul to Realms of Lig-ht.
"Yes, Dada and his comrades, dear,
The storm did not a]:)pal :
For they were doing- God"s work of lo\e.
And He hath claimed them all :
And thou wilt one day tell with pride.
How brave and nobly Dada died.
" He'll never come ag;ain, my child,
To mend thy broken toys ;
To love thee, and to romp with thee.
And swell thy childish joys :
He's waiting now for us on High,
Above yond boundless dark-blue sky.
"He'll come no more, my little one.
To cheer this lonely cot ;
And yet I would not have his name
By thee be once forgot ;
Remember in thy nightly prayer.
To always breathe it. darling", there.
SEA SONGS AND Ut KA.N Ol^hs. t<^^
" Come here, my child I What thouLrh with '^rief.
My heart is like to break,
I'll stillc back these blinding tears.
And live for thy dear sake;
Come, lay thy head on Mama's breast,
And I will soothe and f^'ive thee rest.
" He sees us now. but cannot come ;
Yet, if we both are Ji'ood,
We'll join him, darlinj^, if we live
As God would have we should ;
Then when we die we'll meet him, love.
Nor part ag"ain in Heaven above.
•' And though thou hast no father now,
To bringf thee daily bread,
Yet if my life and health be spared
ni toil for thee inslead ;
Support from Heaven I now^ will ask,
For God to help me with my task."
*****
That prayer was hcanl, and more, for (iod
Hath caused, by His command.
Into ten thousand Kn^iish hearts,
At once throughout the Land,
To rush a generous impulse free
Of sympathetic charity.
To those that were that night bereaved,
God through His people sent
The wherewithal to get them bread.
And hope with grief He blent ;
The donors won His deep regard —
Each gift would bring its own reward.
It could not bring the lost ones back.
And yet, such |)rompt relief.
Would lighter make their burdened hearts,
And thus assuage their y^riel ;
And all who helped the poor distressed.
Would find their bountv doublv blest.
170 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE OATES.
fl Ffif^EOlELiLi TO THE SEA.
And must I leave thee, when the noontide's burning- ray,
Bathes thy broad bosom with its lovely hue?
Alas ! too soon I must turn from thee away, —
From thy rippling- waters, beautifully blue.
I leave thee in the glorious splendour of the day,
When thy surface calm and placid doth appear; [play,
But what chang-es will come o'er, thy wild waves as they
Ah, many times, before the advent of another year.
Full many a storm may come and ])ass o'er me,
Ere I shall look upon thee once ag-ain. —
Before I stand with pensive g-aze by thee,
xA.nd listen to thy turbulent refrain.
When I am g'one thy waves will roll on as before ;
Thy ceaseless tides will ever rise and fall :
Thy restless waters still will dash upon the shore,
And heave in might and fury 'gainst the surf-beat wall.
The sun will shine the same upon thy surface bright,
As thy waters break upon the dull grey stone ;
It will ]:)Our forth its rays, thine hidden depths to light.
Shine upon a thousand glories, that are aU thine own.
But ere I go, I turn to have another sight
Of thy licjuid volumes, that arc all in all to me :
Their peerless grandeur spread beneath the radiant light :
I love the melancholy music of thy voice, O Sea!
I see a speck of white, on the horizon's wide brink.
Like some Argosy of old it skims the deep ;
Then in thy broad expansive sheet it seems to sink,
Down where thy peaceful waters (juietly sleep.
It sails beyond the verg-e where human eye can reach ;
It is lost in space, and now is seen no more :
Its mirage may appear in clouds, with a foreign land
beneath, —
Like a phantom of a ship uj^on another shore.
Oft have I stood to hear th}' sad and mournful rush.
Like some far-off voices chanting a low dirge ;
I have watched thy waters in their vastness gush,
And dash, and break, and surge come after surge !
SEA SOX(;S AND OCKAN UDKS. 1 " I
Now in lone and ciJm solemnity art thou.
Beneath the g'lorious canopy of heaven : [now —
Thy calm waves mildly chase, and o'erlap each other
And break when they should J^rasp what they had
striven I
And now I lea\e thy wave-beat shore. O Sea 1
To hasten back inland where I abide;
Perhaps, who knows.-' I may never look agfain on thee,
Or watch the ebb and flowinj^- of thy tide.
For the last time now I ijaze on thine open waters free,
For 1 shall be so far from thee to-nig"ht :
When I sm borne away, I shall strain mine eyes O Sea —
In \'ain ! — for thou wilt then be lost to siyht I
And old Time will still pass on. and I shall be no nioit' :
But it will not leave on thee a sin,y"le trace ;
When I am dead thy waves will roll on as before.
And others will stand by thee in my place.
I go : — when thou art steeped in mid-day's sunny gleam.
As thy waters gently break upon the shore ;
F""arewell 1 old Sea — I know not, yet I seem
To think I leave thee now for evermore I
n
t
'isa,.
172 POEMS BY CHARI.OTTJ<: OATKS.
iLlill© MfFIfil®!'
1 PLCn LUEflJ^Y, LiET OlE J^EST.
/;/ I.oviii!^' 31i /i/orv of viy (har Father.
The silvery locks hung" o'er his brow.
And strength had left his weary feet :
His tottering" limbs more feeble g^rew,
His task was o'er, his work complete ;
He'd seen o'er man's allotted span,
And life for him had lost its zest ;
His daily cry at length became
" Oh 1 I am weary, let me rest —
Let me rest."
His blue eyes gazed before him far.
As piercing through the shadows gre}-.
He seemed to see the lights of Home
Gleam dimly on his future way:
His life's long day was nearly o'er,
His sun was sinking in the west ;
Eve's shadows fell, and thus he cried,
'•Oh ! I am weary, let me rest —
Let me rest.''
All seasons of his closing life.
Before his vision were arrayed ;
His happiest, and his mournful times,
The spots of sunshine, and the shade :
That g'lorious time, the verdant Spring-,
When everything seemed gaily drest
In brightest hues : he cried not then,
" Oh ! 1 am weary, let me rest —
Let me rest."
Then came the fervid Sunmier time,
When Ijravely toiling" midst the throng :
The sweat-drops standing on his brow.
He sternly fought the l)attle strong" :
FLKiJIvr KKlt SIOXS. I
/ >
Hf nnl)ly did his manly part,
And trcelv g"ave the world his I)esl :
Nor cried he till th(^ sirifr was o'er.
•• Oh ! I am wi-ary. l<-t me rest
I .ct mi' rest."
And when tlie nu-llow Autumn sweet
Fulhlled the Sprinjjftime's promise fair :
Me reaped the fruits of early toil.
And freed himself from lahourinji;' care:
God ti'ave to him .i fair rewanl
For honest work is always l»lest —
And heeded, w hen at len.:.ith he cried,
" < )h I 1 am weary, let me rest--
Let me rest."
At last came Winter's withering- time.
When nature seeks for slumber sweet :
The peaceful days when hands are crossed.
The round of life was then complete :
And as the dreamy days went b\-,
Life's l)urdens harder on him ])rest :
And oft repeiited were the words —
'• Oh I 1 am w eary. let me rest —
Let me rest. "
The chain then loosened, link by link.
That bound him to this narrow life;
The soul would fain its fetters break.
And soar i)eyond the sordid strife:
Ills interest naL:yed in daily thini^s,
While |)ain his feelde iVimie opprest ;
And meekly murmured were the words,
"( )h ! I am wcarx'. let nic rest —
Let me rest."
At last (ii)il pitied one who had
Throuii'h nature worshipi)ed Mini so well; —
Walked in Mis ways from youth to a^'e,
Nor ()n( e at fate would he rebel :
(ind watc^hed him i)ear aftlicted aji^^e,
And jifave the wish so oft e.xprest :
1 Ic closed the ])ensive eyes in peace,
.And l.dd the wear\- form to rest —
Perfect rest.
I 74 POEMS BV CHARLOTTE GATES.
Ib.lR.lb. princess BUcc, Z\k 6vanD H)ucbC3&
of H^essc.
Died December 14TH, 1878.
She's gone : — amifl a Nation's tears,
And passed away beyond recall ;
Fair Eng'land's daughter, dear to all.
Her memory every one reveres.
We mourn, — Ijut oh, alas 1 in vain :
For woman's virtues all combined
Were in that lofty soul enshrined ; —
Laments will not bring- lite again.
The depth of that true mother's love
Is manifest throughout all lands :
Beside her faither now she stands,
Within the Golden Gates above.
That loving, sacrificing heart,
Endeared to all by lasting ties ;
In calm repose of death she lies.
Who played on earth a noble part.
She wished herself to gently break
The tidings to her diirling son,
Of how his sister, fair and young,
Had gone to sleep — no more to wake
On eartli, but in Eternal bliss :
He heai'd, and his unbounded grief
Gushed forth in tears without relief:
'Twas then she gave the fatal kiss
To soothe the anguish of her son.
In that sad hour of grief and trial :
This gentle mother's self-denial
Has touched the hearts of old and young.
ELKlJIAC KKKISIONS. l~ y
She clasped the boy ajLjainst her breast,
So fervent was her loving- care :
She kissed his face so pale and fair,
For she alone could soothe him best.
But Death was in her darling's kiss.
He came and g^ave the fatal blow,
His icy fingfers laid her low;
She sunk to rest in peace and bliss.
Devoted, she resigned her life
For her young- children, loved and dear : '
She went herself, and left them here.
Oh, tender mother I faithful wife I
From palace to the lowliest cot,
In Britain and the Fatherland,
Her [)ure and blameless life will stand
For ag-es, — they'll forg-et her not.
A thousand i)rayers have with her g^one,
A thousand blessing's ri^st on them
Whom she hath loved, and for whom then
She died, — and left to weep alone.
God knows how great hath Ijeen the loss,
To our beloved iind gracious Queen ;
A Nation's prayers for her have been,
" May heaven helj) her to bear the cross I "
ON THE DEATH OF THE DUKE OF
CLiAF^ENCE,
JANUARY 1.4th. 1S92.
IJ homnu propose, ct Ditit iiisposc.
The Nation bows its head in grief.
All Engfland weeps beneath a pall.
To hear that (lod so soon has claimed
That Royal I'rince, |..l(ncd by all.
176 POEJIS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
The bells are tolled throug-hout the Land,
The people's hearts all throb with woe,
To find that he on whom their hopes
Were centred, should be first to go.
Our future Monarch : we were wont
To think that such he rnig-ht have been,
But God saw fit to take him first,
Before our loved and gracious Queen.
Called hence was he, ere 'round his home,
We well had marked the g-athering- clouds ;
He now lies cold as does the earth.
Both slumbVing-, wrapped in snowy shrouds.
Unto his g-entle mother first.
Our loyal hearts go out in love ;
And unto those who held him dear —
May all find solace from Above.
But more than all we think of one.
For whom in sympathy we pray
That Heaven will pity and sustain —
His sweet betrothed, the Princess May: —
Console the Royal maiden fair,
Who would ere long^ have been his bride ;
A wounded heart, with shattered hopes !
May fortitude with hur abide.
His Royal brother was the <ine
We lately watched with bated breath —
Thanks, he is spared, but now alas !
The Duke lies in the sleep ot death : —
He whom we fondly thought was safe.
By health and hope encompassed there.
Exulting^ in his youth and love.
His worldly prospect bright and fair.
Rut Death, impartial, cut him down
In manhood's prime, — chang-ed all to g"loom ;
The altar-scene must be replaced
By one slow pageant to the tomb.
KLEGIAC EFKISIONS. 1 77
Ihat sacred chapel, where we thou^^^ht
To see his nuptials, once so near,
He yet will enter, all in state.
Rut prostrate, on his funeral bier !
A weddiny: wreath they thought to twine.
And deck with it the youn^ bride's head.
Now the)' must weave a funeral wreath,
I-or her to place upon the dead.
'Tis vain to tjuestion God's decree ;
Such sorrow conies our faith to test :
Though we lament, we can but say
" Since 'tis His will, it must be best.''
While we i)oor mortals vainly thoug'ht
His hajjpiness — earth-fleeting' thing- —
Had all been planned, as we i)repared
A mansion lor our future Kin<j ;
Nor knew that God was all the while
Preparing- one for him in Heaven — ■
A glorious home ! where unto him,
A cnm'H iminorlal w ill be given.
\\i mEmoRiAm :
Xlbc late iDnucc imperial of jfraucc.
Slain in the Zulu \\\v\ June \si. iSjg,
Adieu! Napoleon the brave,
Thy widowed mother's only son :
Thy noble, stainless life is done, —
Thy corse lies in the silent grave.
Though thou art dead, thy name still lives
To light the page of Knglish lore :
Though France may look on thee no more.
A throb of pride thy memory gives.
178 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
No more for thee ambition's call
Will bear its charm, for life has ceased ;
And every worldly aim appeased,
A veil has fallen over all.
Farewell ! the last of thy great race,
Thy patriotic life is o'er :
Thy brave ancestors went before,
Now thou hast followed in thy place.
No mother watched thy dying" breath,
Nor soothed and kissed thee at the last
We cannot now recall the past,
Or wake thee from the sleep of death.
The noble gallant Prince is dead.
Slain by the cruel foreign foe ;
The tidings fill our hearts with woe.
The star of hope of France has fled.
But what must be the grief of one,
Who, bound to him by dearest ties,
In anguish on his name she cries,
Or weeps in silence for her son ?
We fain would soothe that mother's heart;:
We sympathise with all her grief;
Oh ! God, give Eugenic relief, —
Sustain her through her trying part.
We know she loved her noble boy :
Her earthly idol now is broke :
He was her every care and hope, —
In him she centred every joy.
He knelt and kissed his fathers tomb.
In silence bowed his head and prayed —
Knew not how soon he would be laid
in death's cold sleep, 'mid tears and gloom.
His heart is still, and cold his cheek.
And every grief is now assuaged ;
He died where fierce contention raged,
No more his kindly voice will speak.
KI.KiJIAC EFFUSIONS. 179
A war-lik(j spirit, all his own.
Was throl)l>inj4' in his e\erv vein :
He yearned to win a martial fame,
To raise him to a monarch's throne.
He volunteered to take our cause, —
Defend his foster country free ;
He boldly sailed across the sea,
He fearless, faced for us the foes.
She watched her y-allant son depart,
.So buoyant, from old F^nifland's shore.
He, destined ne'er to see her more.
Yet hope was in the brave young" heart.
And when afar in Zululand,
He joined the British army there ;
Rode foremost in the ranks to dare
The danfft^rs with theit valiant band.
'^^ '
But oh. alas I his hopes were crushed.
His life was briefly ended there :
They bore his body gfently here.
And i)laced it near his father's dust.
And like a soldier true, he died,
Beneath a friendless foreign sky :
None but tilt; heathen saw him die, —
No friend to linger by his side.
The Zulus played a treacherous part,
So near a kraal, and far from camp :
They i)ierced him in a donga damp.
And felk'd him, wounded tc> the heart 1
Thus was his jouthtul life-blood spilletl :
All night there his poor body lay,
Till by his comrades borne away, —
Such was his death that God had willed.
Our thoughts fly back to years ago ;
At Saarbruck. niid the deadly strife,
The boy commenced his soldier's life.
As with his sire he faced the foe.
l80 POEMS BV CHARLOTTK GATES.
It wakes the mem'ry hidden deep,
Of how he watched the bullets fly ;
For France he feared not then to die ;
His calmness made the soldiers weep.
Our sister country's cherished ties
Are rudely rent asunder now ;
The lig-ht that beamed has faded low, —
The youthful Prince in slumber lies.
Let party strife then be forgot,
Join hands in harmony to-day,
And pray for him who died away
For France, what though she knew it not.
Fair England's dear adopted son :
An exile from his native land;
And trained beneath her friendly hand,
She grew to love the hero young.
I see the lonely Empress weep,
While o'er his tomb she breathes a prayer ;-
Another whom she loved lies near, —
For sire and son alas ! now sleep.
From prince and peer to peasant's home,
The mournful tidings spread so wide ;
" Bold Bonaparte the brave has died,"
We wept to hear that he was gone.
He sought to win a regal throne
On earth, but that has gone with life :
Ceased, has the yearning bitter strife.
His head now wears a Heavenly Crown !
Oh ! scatter flowers uf)on his tomb,
A tribute sweet to him now fled,
Till one by one they shall be dead.
Like him shall wither in their bloom.
Then lay a wreath of i/ii/iiorielks,
And watered by the tears that flow ;
An emblem that immortal now.
His peaceful soul in Heaven dwells.
ELKC.IAC EFFISIONS. l8l
CONE, BUT Never once
FOHCOT."
Dav and niti-ht thou art before me,
In the s|)irit thou art near;
Seest ni}- jjassixc mien at da) time.
And at ni^ht my fallinj^- tear :
Fancy sees thee, sainted Father,
In thy place within our cot;
Thou^-h in truth thou hast for ever
Gone, yet thou art not forg'ot.
All the love we bore each other.
Fades not as the da\s ^o by.
Twines its garland 'round the memory
Fastened with a heart-drawn sij^-h ;
Nouj^ht whate'er of future pleasure
From my memory once will blot
Thy loved imaye ; oh, my father.
(ioiie, hut ne\er once forgot.
And whate'er may be m\- |)ortion.
In this world of care and woe:
May I live like thee, contented,
Yet withal prej)ared to !.'0 ; —
'i'akin^- all things well and wisely,
Nor rei)ine, whate'er my lot;
Like thee mourned when past the border.
Gone, hut ne\er unce iorg"ot.
Not foro-ot.^ oh ! can th\- spirit
See thy child in sorrow here }
See the smilt-s 1 have for others.
P'or th>self, alTection's tear ;
Where thy weary feet have wandered
Is to me a much-loved s|)Ot ;
Thou wilt never, oh, my father.
By thy child he once forj^ot.
I 82 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE OATES.
Loved and venerated dear one,
When this pilgrim hfe is o'er,
May I meet thee as an angel
On the far-off Golden Shore ;
Calmly sleep ere then beside thee,
Underneath God's hallowed plot ;
From this weary world of trouble
Gone, but by it not forgot.
Since thy soul has crossed the river,
Mine would fain not tarry here ;
Parting with thee linked me closer,
To the glorious angel Sphere ;
May I now, like thee, serenely
Bear life's ills, and murmur not ;
Seek its sunlight, shun its shadows.
And when g'one, be not forgot.
If4 mnmOHlAm : LiOHO TEI^flYSOfi.
DIED. OCTOBER 6th. 1892.
Farewell ! loved bard, thy life is past.
Thy soul its mortal shell has cast.
And reached the longed-for bourne at last I
That peace was thine we all shall need,
" It was a glorious death indeed,"
.Said those who saw thy spirit freed.
Nor fire, nor taper, shed its light,
But through the oriel window bright,
There softly shone the orl) of night : —
Its tranquil beam streamed on thy bed,
And threw a glory round thy head,
And kissed thy face, ere thou wert dead.
Thou hast but fall'n away to sleep,
A dreamless slumber, calm and deep ;
At such an end whv should we weep ?
ELKGIAC EFFUSIONS. 1 S3
We cn)ulcl not hid ihy s|)irit stay.
L'nseen it passed in peace away.
Upon the full moon's silvery ray.
No nobl<'r jioet our Land has known.
Thy deathless spirit now has flown
To join the blest, our Fathers own.
We may not see thy like ag-ain.
And now shall list' for, all in vain.
Thy pure, enobliny, lofty strain.
Reared in thy tlear and lonely fen.
Thou didst not court the i^-aze of men,
J)Ut loved alone to wield thy pen.
The world is better for thy being-;
Thy life's good work, thy death serene,
Have cast an influence all unseen.
Thy teachings can we eer forg'et.''
We sadly mourn thy loss and yet,
We know the brightest star must set.
Watched by the ones who loved thee best.
Thy weary hands laid on thy breast.
Thou passed unto eternal rest.
God's angel was no spectre grim.
All nature hushed, kept guard for him.
Illumed the solenm chamber dim.
A light is quenched with thy release,
A minstrel's wondrous chords now cease.
Thy life has closed in perfect peace.
Thv precious ilusi was borne in state.
AVithin our hallowed temple's gate,
And placed with Eng-land's loved and great.
When thou wert with us here below.
The laurel wreath adorned thy i:row,
But one more blest will crown it now !
1S4 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
THH moUJ^i^n^G moTHEi^.
My boy is an ang-el : he passed from this earth.
In childhood's first ,£rlor\-, abounding- in mirth;
Oh ! fondly I loved him, how could I refrain ?
And aught would I give but to see him ag'ain I
'Tis hard for a mother so soon to resig'n
Her loved only child, to its Maker divine ;
My hope and the light of my heart feels destroyed.
Instead of love's rapture, a dull aching void!
I long for the touch of his little warm hand.
For when it clasped mine, how my heart would expand !'
And faster would beat with a sweet mother-joy.
To feel the caress of my own baby boy.
'Twould seem from his brief stainless life since its birth.
That he were God's angel, but lent to this earth ;
And lest his white soul, that were pure as the snow,
Be soiled, it was snatched from temptations below.
And though with the partings my heart was sore-tried,.
"Twere better by far that my darling thus died ;
While he were unscathed by life's sorrow and sin,
His soul knew no conflict ere light entered in.
Unsullied he went; and I know that he now
Is wearing a garland upon his fair brow ;
Oh ! mine were the heart-ache, but his were the joy,.
Earth's anguish henceforth is unknown to my boy !
He went when this life seems most happy and fair,
All sunshine and roses, with never a care ;
I fain had died for him, my grief were that wild. —
For what will a mother not do for her child 1
We all have our sorrows in some way to bear.
Alone we are aided and solaced by prayer ;
When heart-strained with grieving lor lost ones we plead,
Not vainly, for heli) in the hour of our need.
K.I.K(;iAC KFFISIOXS. 1 85
Some lovi' ma\" \)v (k-ip and protect inic. we know.
Some ardent, romantic, with passionate g^Iow :
P.ut clinjiinj,^ confidinj^-, transjjarent, and mild.
And pure is the love of a dear little child !
The sijt,'-ht of his playthin]y^s brou<,'-ht sorrow each day,
Till delui^ed with tears, 1 haxe |)laced them away ;
With g-arments he wore, that I made with such pride.
I carefully, tendcrl)-, laid them aside.
< 'h, now that his sweet baby-voice 1 could hear:
That fell like g'lad music my lone life to cheer :
In Paradise now to a <iolden harp sweet,
His voice is attuned, and m\- spirit 'twill c^reet.
The while my fair child on this earth did remain.
I-!ach day faster weldefl our lo\e"s ros)- chain;
That bound us in spirit, my darlings for aye,
l<"or can I forget thee my child, for a day ?
Thy mem'ry still haunts me, and clintis to me so.
In visions f see thee wherever I go;
I'lUt thou art an anyel. and near the n^reat Throne.
In bowers of bliss, while I mourn here alone !
But why this re|)inin^-.^ whv thus should I weep.'
Each da}' 1 am nearer my borderland sleep ;
From which when I rise with m>' soul undefiled
I ever shall dwell with my sweet sainted child I
Yet I have a mission ere rest may be mine.
Before my souls music may mino;-le with thine ; —
M\- life-task is set, which I needs must fulfil.
And loving- in\ Task-Master, bow to His will.
ON THE DEATH OF A
IMOHAGENAF^IAN.
F.vREWRLL thou wcarv one ! who with
This splendid lentury saw the lig;ht :
Through o\er nine decades has seen.
This life's alternate dav and nitrht.
'1 86 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
And all the changes which have swept
0"er this fair land, that gave thee birth,
And placed it in the foremost ranks,
Of all God's beauteous lands on earth.
And while the seasons have revolved,
Thou too hast changed from youth to age,
Thy mission is fulfilled, and thou
Hast passed from off this earthly stage.
'Twas meet thy soul should cast its shell,
When withered leaves were falling 'round ;
And autumn winds were sighing low —
It found its rest in sleep profound.
Another link that bound to-day
Unto the past, is snapped in twain ;
The memories of the good old times.
From thee we ne'er can hear again.
The social gathering never more
Will see thy dear familiar face ;
The ancient form we all revered
Will fill not its accustomed place.
Farewell I poor long-tried heart, we know
Thy feeble hands have laboured long ;
Thine eyes, whose lids are closed for aye,
Have shed their tears, and gleamed with song.
Oh, oft thou must have longed lor rest, —
Been ready for the reaper's hand :
Like grain full rij^e, and now the sheaf
Is garnered safe, in God's ])right Land.
We now resign thee, cold and still,
Into the white-clad arms of Peace,
Whence thou wilt rise amongst the hosts
That sing God's praise, anri never cease.
KLEGIAC EFFl SIGNS. I S7
IN mEmORY OF A PHlLiAHTHROPIST.
(J. Ckossley, Es(j., IlAi.irAX.)
Hk's j;fonc to his External rust.
And sleepeth on the Saviour's breast,
His earthly cares are o'er ;
He filled a j^ood anfl noljle jjjace.
And those who knew his kindly face,
Will see it now no more.
The loving" heart has ceased to beat,
His presence we no more shall greet ;
His gentle voice is still ;
Thus ends his noljle life of love,
In g'lory now his soul aljove,
A fairer spot doth fill.
Too good to tarry longer here,
Within a higher, holier sphere,
He rests with Jesus now :
While angels bright around him move,
And place with happiness and love,
A crown upon his brow.
And thousands whom his love hath blest.
Have followed him to his last rest,
And .-^een him laid so low ;
Recalled with tears the help he gave,
And breathed a blessing" o'er his grave.
With nxerential bow.
He won the poor man's kind regard,
.\nd reapeth now the rich reward
For every generous deed :
He riches g"ave — himself denied,
A noble man he lived and died.
In truest christian creed.
The widows, and the frail and old.
Weep o'er that form now di-ad and coM,
And breathe a silrnt pr.iyiT:
I8S POEMS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
The orphan children bless his name,
So pure and spotless, not a stain
Has ever rested there.
His mission now on earth is done.
And we liehold his ''Orphan's Home,"'
With dome that points to Heaven ; —
A monument henceforth "twill be,
For future ag"es yet to see -
A gift so nobly given.
■'Twas thus he laid him down to rest, —
He felt aweary and oppressed.
And yearned for his last home ; —
He gently bade his friends •' good-nig-ht,"
God's angel came before his sight,
Then 'midst a flood of holy light.
The Saviour's voice said. " Come!"
IiIflES OH THE DEATH OF
mflDflmE PflTEY.
Her voice is hushed, and ne\er more
Will fall upon our ears again :
Its wondrous tones no more will charm, —
We listen for that voice in vain.
For it is still, and ne'er again
Can we recall her thrilling" song ;
Her sweet impressive strains though hushed
Will linger on the memory long.
Oft have we listened, all entranced.
And cheered her when there came a pause :
Now that melodious voice is still, —
Her ears are deaf to all applause.
Her kindly heart could but respond.
She sought to ])lease the clamorous throng ;
The glorious songstress whom we loved.
When dying, sung her farewell song.
FIFfJTAr KFFl'SIONS. I Sq
But as they sat enraptured. I«) !
The sin<,'"er's s|)irit all l>ut lU-fl ;
For <,'\en while she warbled there,
The ang'el hovered o'er lur head.
Her closing" sympathetii: notes.
Will, with remorse, remembered be;
Her death-son^i's last prophetic words
hell sadly. — " There a corpse lay she."
Hi'r son^,-" has ceased for e\er here,
Med u iih her soul so far away :
That mournful ballad's sad refrain.
Will haunt the heart for many a day.
Her lips are sealed for evermore.
So silent now beneath the turf:
Farewell I -we g-rieve that we shall hear,
That tuneful voice no more on earth.
It now has joined the ang'el band,
In happy, joyous song's of love ;
1 is sing'ing" sweetly in God's Land, —
The peerless Regions far Above.
IN mEfnoRY OF ah oliD
sHiRimPER.
li is well that ( iod in mercy.
All the future from us hides;
Veils our fate that u e may humbly
Trust in Him. w hat-e'er betides.
Ouickly He hath ta'en poor Kimmer,
Veteran toiler of the sea:
Xe'er a warning' that the summons
Was to come, that morn had he.
Stricken by the hand of Heaven,
While at work beside the wave:
I rul\' he hath died in harness.
I'ull of x'cars. and stauneh and brave.
igO POEMS BY CHARLOTTE OATES.
Hardy son of Father Neptune,
Fallen in his bosom there :
Would the waves could bring- a message-
Tell to us his dying- prayer !
In the dark, cold winter morning-.
To the lone and silent shore.
Wandered forth the poor old shrimper,
< And, alas I returned no more.
Not a loving- hand was with him,
While he drew his dying- breath :
Not a lovin'g- voice to soothe him.
In the cold embrace of death.
All alone with sky and water.
But the beating- of the surge,
Might at last have lulled his spirit,
With a low and solemn dirg-e.
Grieve not. kindred ! God's good ang-el,
Unperceived would be at hand.
Hovering o'er his head that softly.
Pillowed on the yielding sand.
But the widow's heart is aching,
She will miss him from his place : —
Look in vain within the cottag-e,
For his old familiar face.
Father, wilt Thou give her comfort,
Bless and soothe the aged heart :
Cheer her, till they are united
Once ag-ain, and ne'er to part.
SACf^ED mEmot^iEs.
Mow we cherish sacred memories ! —
Keep them close within the heart :
Some so sad, that to recall them
Iven, will make the tear-drops start.
ELEGIAC EFFISIONS. (f)!
Memories siuired not In- the stran.i^er,
Satel\' locked w iihin the breast :
Hy the golden key of silence,
Truths for ever unconfessed.
I'lach heart holds its precious memories,
To itself supremely dear;
Guarded in its treasured storehouse.
Summoned thence, dull days to cheer :
Vanished scenes, and past emotions.
Each retentive mind recalls ;
All preserved and venerated,
Safe behind the stren.tith'nino- walls.
Byg'one trials and tribulations, —
Sorrows that were hard to bear;
Rc»bl)ed b}- time of half their sadness,
Clothed in robes now sweet and fair.
Clouds that once have passed above us, —
Thrown their shadow o'er the light ;
Rise before us. hallowed memories.
Silvered now, and gleaming white.
Sacred griets, subdued and mellowed.
By the soft'ning hand of Time ;
See we now in brighter raiment
Crusted, as with wintry rime.
Fondest memories of the absent,
Faithful souls for ever flown ;
And the changeful years invest them.
With a glory all their own : —
Memories of our loved and lost ones.
Treading now the Heavenly Aisles ;
I.eft behind a blest remembrance.
'I'reasured words, and vanished smiles.
.Sw eet sad memories I ne'er unbosomed,
In the heart's recesses sleep ;
Buried there, nor break the stronghold.
Where they rest secure and deep :
( )nly called forth to lie nourished,
In the drear and lonely hour :
Solitude can wake their slumbers, —
Bid them rise, and wield their power.
.Such can never pine nor perish,
Years but make them dearer grow ; —
192 POEMS BV CHARLOTTE DATES.
Folds them in a fadeless glory,
At life's close they brig-htest glow.
They are wrapt in robes of silence.
When we meet the young- and g'ay ; —
While with happy friends surrounded,
Thoughts revered are placed away.
Things remembered since our childhood,
Woven deep into the heart.
Are the tender ties of memory,
Till of us they form a part :
Mingled with our every fibre,
Grown with us from out the past,
Memories that will never leave us,
Till we've breathed on earth our last !
ifl mEmot^v OF R POET.
Farewell ! beloved bard, whose lays
Oft-times have charmed this heart of mine
For He who gave the gift divine,
Hath claimed him in his early days.
Farewell ! for God's ways are not ours ;
Too soon, we think. He snatched the prize :
A veil is yet before our eyes.
Each troubled heart its grief still pours.
The widow's and the orphans' cry
Of anguish, yet to Heaven ascends ;
'Twill not be long before He bends
Upon them all His pitying- eye.
We miss the voice, the face, the smile,
He's g'one, yet he hath left behind
The reflex of a master mind,
A noble " monumental pile" : —
His memory to perpetuate —
And to the world still keep it green ;
We are the richer for his being,
But those he loved are desolate.
ELKGIAC EFFL'SIONS.
'93
His form was souj^-ht from boyhood's years —
The nucleus of a happ}' thronif ;
Heloved his fellow-men amonj^,
Where he has walked, we find their tears.
He mig-ht have erred ; oh ! who has not ?
Yet Merry found him at the last —
OI)literated all the past.
And bore him to the brig-htest spot.
We never more shall hear again
The fresh outpourings of his soul,
That would the throbbing heart console;
Surh was the power of every strain.
Nor will again that magic pen —
The hand-maid of poetic thoughts —
Obey their dictates ; it hath wrought
Him honour, mongst a host of men.
And now that fertile pen must rust,
For poesy it no more may yield ; —
The hand is cold that pen could wield, —
We drop a tear abo\e his dust
Amiiiliun beckoned him to fame,
1 le reached it, but alas ! too soon
His sky g-rew dark, before 'twas noon, —
Yet laurel-wreaths adorn his name.
He bore his cross. ;ind now is crowned ;
He sU'ejis alone, where sweet flowers sheil
Their fragrance o'er the hallowed dead,
'Neath fairest patch of English ground.
1 lis highest flights of fancy here —
His purest, idealistic dreams
Of what should be: were trancient gleams
Of what he now has realised there.
Freed from the mean conllnes of earth.
The soul untrammelled soared uj) hi-ht^r.
To swell the sweet angelic choir,
In Paradise it had new birth.
194 POEMS -BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
Ag-ainst its bars it fretted long-,
Aspiring to a perfect state ;
God gave it grace to pass the gate
That leads unto the sainted throng-.
And now in bright ethereal bowers,
Where nought the fair Elysium mars.
He dwells in peace, beyond the stars —
A white-robed angel, crowned with flowers.
And when my songs have ceased below,
Perchance I then shall meet him there ;
He'll greet me on the " golden stair,"
And place a chaplet on my brow.
TO R VOUHG FRIE|^^,
Of! the Death of tier Mother.
Thy Mother is dead, — I must tell thee my child.
The earth-star has vanished that on thee has smiled ;
But gently— the tidings are sad to thee now.
For grief has its furrows upon thy young brow :
The tenderest chords of thy heart are awake, —
And touch them too roughly, perchance they may break.
Thy Mother is dead, — she will never again
Give comfort unto thee in anguish or pain ; —
She'll never come near thee again on this earth,
To soothe thee in sorrow, or join in thy mirth ;■ —
No never steal near thee, and noiselessly tread.
To kiss thee, and tuck thee at night in thy bed.
Thy Mother is dead, — and she will not be here.
To offer thee counsel, or wipe the sad tear ;
Oh, never again will she walk by thy side,
Nor through the dark ways of the worlvl be thy guide ;,
She'll never caress thee or speak to thee more,
The bright golden dream of thy childhood is o er.
ELKGIAC EFFUSIONS. I95
Thy Mother is dead, — didst thou grieve her poor heart ?
Oh, then with contrition thy bosom will smart :
Thy faults would come thick at the siqht of her corse, —
Thy conscience be pierced with a [lang- of remorse;
Thou canst not redeem them, nor briny her again,
Then hush, for the bitterest tears are in vain.
Thy Mother is dead,— she is sleeping- so low.
The truest best friend that thou ever canst know ;
She now lies at rest in the cold sodden ground,
Go ask for support then, and kneel on that mound;
And pray for this clouil t(j be lifted awa)' —
For hope to illumine thy pathway to-day.
Thy Mother is dead, — she has gone to her rest,
Her spirit abides with the loved and the blest :
Be g-ood, my dear child, to the end of thy days.
And pray to be kept from tem|itation's dark ways; —
And then at the last the blest Home thou shalt share,
Thy Mother will meet thee and welcome thee there.
Thy Mother is dead, — she is hajji^y at Home,
Thou mayst not go to her till Jesus says "come " ;
Remember ni}- child there's a mission for thee
To do here below, ere thy earth-bonds are free ;
Then cheerfully go with thy heart and thy might,
To win thee a place in the Regions of Light.
Thy Mother is dead, — and her soul is afar,
Among the glad angels, beyond that Ijright star ;
And she will come back to her darling no more ;
She waits for thee now on the far-away Shore :
Then follow the path that thy Mother has trod,
If thou wouldst inherit the Kingdom of God.
"X^KSr^
196 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE OATES.
i|^ mEmoJ^iflm :
tlbe Crews ot the St. Hnucs an^ Soutbport
Xifeboats,
Drowned while on a mission of rescue,
December loth, 1886.
I CALL the Muse, but lo ! to-day,
It falters when I bid it come —
Unequal to its mournful task.
It feeble is, and all but dumb. —
So weak, it scarce can frame the thoughts
That rise in wild chaotic gloom.
Oh, cruel Storm ! Oh, mighty Sea !
Great is thy spoil, wide is thy tomb !
Man feels his strength while on the land.
But have we not to-day been taught
That when 'tis tested by the sea
His boasted power is set at naught .'
Such tempests prove his utmost skill
Is naught beneath their awful sway;
His craft becomes a broken toy,
With which the billows madly play.
Who can depict that midnight scene —
The struggle on the wrathful main .^
'Tis not for us to ask of God
" Why did they not return again } "
Scared not by danger went they torth
To bravely battle with the blast;
In blinding storm, on raging sea,
'Twas Duty first, and Self the last.
Talk not of war, till you have seen
A deed like this, then, if you can,
Compare : — is he who slays, or he
Who strives to save his brother man.
The nobler ? Let your conscience speak.
And what it whispers must be right :
The Father knows, the angels know,
All deeds are done within their sight.
ELKCIAC EFFUSIONS. 1 97
Lord I surely men who die like these.
Thou wilt recei\e, and call them Thine ? —
Who perish thus upon the deep,
Have they not won Thy love divine?
We trust they have, — nay, know they have.
For u'oini^' at Mercy's own behest,
Would she not intercede ; for Thee
To place them with the g"ood and blest .''
If they had walked on life's broad way.
Oh. did they not at last redeem
The past, by that heroic deed,
And see m death the g'lory gleam ?
And may not P^ny-land well be proud
Of sailor sons like unto these ? —
Her prayers and blessing's go with them.
When Mercy bids them dare the seas.
Since sympathetic human love,
Must now be strong in every heart;
May not a monument be reared, —
When heroes such as these depart ?
But for that noble act humane.
They might have all been with us still : —
The women spared those pangs of grief.
That come with desolation's chill.
Remorseful tears they now niiiy shed —
Death unforeseen oft wounds us so ; —
Oh ! pity thein, and pray with me,
For One to aid them in their woe.
THY LUlbLi BE DOJ^E."
Grieve not, poor wounded hearts, bereft
Of one most dear to you on earth :
For all who knew }our loveil one's worth.
Will feel for you, whom she hath left.
To sadly mourn ; through day and night —
When darkness veils each tear-stained face ;
Rut stri\e amidst your grief to trace
The path from darkness unto light.
198 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE OATES.
And strive to calm the throbbing- brow,
And still the anguish in the breast;
Your lost one sweetly sleeps at rest,
" With Christ, which is far better," now.
'Twas well you all were near to say
"Good-bye," and kiss her ere she died;
With heart-strained watchers by her side,
Her spirit softly passed away.
How vain to boast of life, when we
Have seen liow soon it can be ta'en ;
The '• silver cord " has broke in twain,
We know not where Death next may be.
Weep not : she walked in peaceful ways
On earth, and made her presence dear;
With all her kindred's love to cheer.
And cast a blessing o'er her days.
Throug-hout her brief and blameless life,
She won kind friends afar and wide ;
Now she has crossed the mystic tide,
And left this weary world of strife.
Her soul its mortal husk has shed,
And passed the mystic border-gloom,
That intervenes between the tomb
And Heaven, whither it hath fled.
Her life was pure, God in His love
Saw good to take her far from here ; —
Unto a bright and happier Sphere, —
To join the angel host Above.
Oh ! then, bereaved ones, strive to cease
To grieve for her now called away;
" Thy ivill be done,'" is hard to say, —
And yet those words will give you peace.
KLEGIAC EFFLSIOXS. I99
HE IS NOT DEAD, HE OHl^V
SLiEEPS."
We laid our loved one g'ently down,
And placed the daisies on his I)reast ;
The tired hancls had ceased their toil,
In peace he passed away to rest ;
But when the soul from bondage leaps,
It is not dead, it only sleeps. —
Yes, still it lives ; what though apart,
It has hut left its mortal shell ;
And while we watched it softly g'o ;
All fear of death it did dispel :
We know, though yet each mourner weeps,
He is not dead, — he only sleeps.
Sleeps, sweetly sleeps, oblivious now
Of all the cares that once opprest ;
Beneiith a loving Father's eye.
He softly passed unto his rest ;
Faith says, through darkness while it peeps,
" He is not dead, he only sleeps."
Nor pains, nor sorrows, jiierce him now,
His yoke for ever he has cast :
God's handmaid, Mercy, smoothed his way,
His mortal suffering soon was past;
He now lies "mongst his native steeps,
He is not dead, he only sleeps, —
To wake again to sacred joys.
Within a hulier Land than this ;
Around the mighty Throne of Grace,
To swell the throng in endless bliss ;
All will be his the good soul reaps.
He is not dead, he only sleeps.
When light .uid darkness joined their hands,
And vigils of the night were o'er;
200 POEJIS BY CHARLOTTE DATES.
As it resig'ned to rosy dawn.
He slept, to wake on earth no more ;
God o'er him now a watch still keeps,
He is not dead, he only sleeps.
We watched him throug-h this world's dark night,
Until the weary eyelids closed,
At dawn, when Heaven's new light broke in
Upon his soul, then he reposed ;
To wake when lie has crossed the deeps.
He is not dead, he only sleeps, —
Sleeps calmly with the pure and blest,
A life well-lived was his while here ;
" His end was peace," and now his g'rave
Is watered by the fervent tear ;
His fav'rite flower above him creeps,
Till he is called, he rests and sleeps.
ifl aiEmot^Y op fl iiflflCASHit^E
Once more the veil has lifted been,
A soul has passed into the light
That glorifies the great Unseen,
And knows no more of mortal night.
'&'
A brother bard's dear memory claims
A loving tribute to his worth —
The love which kindred nature frames,
Enwraps the soul now called from earth.
Though each the other knew not, yet,
If we were strangers in the throng-;
In spirit oft methinks wc mc^t,
Within the mystic realms of song.
KLE(;iAC KKKISIONS. 20I
He wore his unsGiiij"ht laurels here.
Rut richer wreaths will fk-rk his hrow :
Within that holier, brighter Sjihere.
Whose s^-ates for him have opened now.
Thou<4h he adorned a lowly place,
He humbly strove to serve his God ;
Departed now, we love to trace
His waymarks in the path he trod.
His aims were ^ood, his home-soncfs are
In Truth's blest keynote, hence his fame:
And his were what is better far,
A duteous life, an honoured name.
A wild bird's warblings by the way.
That helped to make the woodlands ring;
Is missed when it has hushed for aye
By those who loved to hear it sing-.
Ik- trilk-d the ])eople's heart-songs sweet-
Through him their woes they could express;
The poor his buoyant notes would greet,
For he could cheer them in distress.
The minstrel whom we held so dear-
Who touched the chords of truth and love,
Has only been rehearsing here.
Before he joined God's choir Above.
F"rom honest labour he hath found
Too soon for us. eternal rest ;
His christian \'irtues will be crowned
In glory, 'mongst the pure and blest.
Farewell to all his heartlelt lays.
His earthly burden now is cast;
No more he treads life's thorny ways,
He sleeps in i)erfect peace iit last.
When my rehearsal shall be o'er,
And I hiive laid aside my l>re ;
He'll meet me on the crystal Shore,
To join him in the angel choir I
202 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
0\JPi JAflEY."
You ask me why I weep to-day,
The tears will all unbidden flow; — •
Because a dear one's passed away, —
Our Janey.
You knew her not, oh ! had vou known
Her spotless life, her depth of soul.
You would have loved her as your own, —
Our Janey : —
And wept with me, that One Above
Should take our darlini;" home so soon ;
For all who knew her could but love.
Our Janey.
We mig"ht have known that one so fair,
So good, so pure in mind, would g'o ; —
That God would soon take to His care,
Our Janey.
She was not fit for here ; her mind
Soared far above the thing's of earth;
God's Word ennobled and refined,
Our Janey.
She loved us, but her thoug"hts would reach
Full oft to One whom she revered ; —
Christ's life its lessons sweet could teach.
Our Janey,
In innocence a child was she, —
A trustful, sympathetic child ;
And yet a woman true could be,
Our Janey.
She linsfered on the border-line
Which seems to separate the twain ;
The traits ot both could she combine;—
Our Janey.
ELEGIAC EFFUSIONS. 2O3
I think I see her even n(nv,
Before ine as when warni with life, —
Her earnest eyes, her thouj,'^htful brow ; —
Our Janey. —
Her movements full of quiet grace, —
Her sim|)le, meek, and guileless ways; —
Her slender form, her pensive face ; —
Our Janey.
We little thought she would be called
At last SI) quickly from our side;
Death came, but never once appalled,
Our Janey.
For, " Blest are they that hear the Word
Of God, and keep it;" were her last
Dear words, and then no more we heard,
Our Janey. —
The soft sweet voice was hushed for a)e ;
So beautiful in death was she, —
An angel in her white array, —
Our Janey.
We keep her little treasures yet,
And fondly i)rize them for her sake;
Without them could we once forget.
Our Janey ?
The Ijloom of summer time has tied.
The autumn rain falls tliick and fast ;
The sodden grass droops o'er the dead, —
Our Janey.
The fiuiv'ring leaves begin to fade.
The storm-cloud dims the azure sky :
The night-wintis wail where she is laid. —
Our Janey.
Where-e'er we look for her around.
C)r call her name, 'twill be in vain : —
On earth can never more be found.
Our Janey.
204 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE OATES.
If you had met her in a crowd,
Naught would have marked our darhng- there ; —
The one of whom we were so proud, —
Our Janey.
No feature, save perchance the eyes,
Could once arrest the strang'ers' gaze ;
They had not known our treasured prize,—
Our Janey.
'Twas through those orbs her spirit shone,
And made her radiant at the last;
In sweetness then she stood alone, —
Our Janey.
And by the ang-el-smile she wore,
She must have caught a glimpse of Heaven; —
Its crystal courts appeared before.
Our Janey. —
A vision of celestial things,
To mortal senses all unknown ;
Or heard a seraph's rustling wings; —
Our Janey.
Come back! come back, oh! could she come
If but a moment back again ;
And speak to us once more iit home, —
Our Janey.
They were not for a world like this,
Her gentle tones, her beaming smile ;
But oh, to-night I long to kiss,
Our Jane}-.
That cannot be, but yet it seems
Remorse a sudden grief will tinge;
She can but cQme to us in dreams, —
Our Janey.
It seems so hard that hopeful youth.
So full of promise should be ta'en ; —
In whom there shone such love and truth,
Our Janey.
KI.K(;iAC KKFUSinxs.
205
Wi we had \vishe<l it thus could he,
If timu had spuilf(l our fra;,''ile llower; —
In youth's first bloom we e'er shall see,
Our Janey.
We mourn, hut what ran that avail ?
The ans^'el child has perfect peace;
Nor i^ain, nor sorrow, can assail,
Our Janey.
If mortal love be such as this,
What must be God's ? Oh ! boundless bliss !
Why fall ye tears ? He knows 'tis best,
That y'entle Janej's <,'-one to rest.
HIS BEST F^ELUAf^D.
A NOBi.K soul, and as brave as true,
Was lately summoned to cross the bar;
Whose many virtues but known to few,
'Tis meet that such were extolled afar.
There beat a loving^ and genial heart,
Beneath the jersey of na\y blue ;
He played a brave and heroic part,
As volunteer for a lifeboat's crew.
He knew in life what it was to face
The boilin.y wrath of a storm-lashetl nuiin ;
The lifeboat's course when 'twas hard to trace,
All feared she ne'er would return at,''ain.
He knew what it was to snatch from death.
His fellow-men o'er a surginjL^f j^rave ;
When those on the shore have held their breath,
Or nuirniured prayers for the boatmen bra\<-.
He knew what it was to land and hear
The praise and cheers of the anxious crowd :
Ills lo\ed ones' welcome he held most dear,
<3f well-won honours he was but proud.
205 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE DATES.
Though prized the medal he owned and wore
For Hfeboat work on the stormy deep ;
He'd one reward that he valued more,
And ne'er torgfot till he went to sleep.
'Twas one received from a little girl.
Long" ere his spirit was called to Heaven ;
Of that reward he was wont to tell,
With tears of joy "twas received and given.
The clasp and kiss of a grateiul child,
Upon the shore, by the rushing wave;
Her thanks broke forth in a rapture wild,
For noble service he freely gave.
That child's young sister he'd rescued there —
Had brought her forth from the surging' sea :
Thus earned her Ijlessing- and childish prayer,
No prouder moment in life had he.
She felt that something to him she owed,
A sweet child's impulse ne'er fails to charm ;
The grateful heart of the giil o'erflowed,
In fervent kisses, so true and warm.
A father he, and each clinging kiss,
Touched tender chords in his kindly breast ;
No thought of honours or fame was his, —
For love and duty he'd done his best.
That soft caress on his sun-burnt cheek,
His deed of gallantry well repaid ;
The noblest natures befriend the w^eak.
Brave hearts are proved at a cry for aid.
He's drifted now to the Silent Land.
For him the storms of this life are o'er;
His bark is moored on a Brighter Strand,
In God's safe Harbour for evermore.
One last reward, and by far the best,
And one which none can receive on earth,
Will yet be his, with the good and blest,
For God is just, and rewards true worth.
ELKGIAC KFFf SIGNS. 207
A tp^ibUte to the mEmoRY op
THE HT. HON. Ul. E. GLADSTONE.
U7/0 found his nsl May iglh, l8g8.
That star of finest magnitude has set,
Whose li.L^ht ilhimined many Lands, that yet
Will feel his intluence : we can ne'er forg-et
I lis grand career I
Vox years tlie l)arl< of State he wisely steered
Through troublous waters, — trusted was, and cheered,
A helmsman g-rasped the tiller who revered
And feared his God.
His fuie physifjue, colossal mental powers.
He used aright, spent well his God-sent hours;
And gave his best to this fair Land of ours, —
Served well his Queen.
His life's an inspiration, — how complete !
It graced this wondrous century, so replete
With progress ; and through it we trace his feet
In lines of gold I
We know his name will li\e, w hom nations mourn,
Its reflex glow lor ages yet unborn ;
Nor decked with star nor title, he has worn
True virtue's crown.
* A grand dd man I ' nay more than that, for we
Know that he was as God would have us be ;
In purity of heart, and life, was he
A good old man !
His inner sanctuary. — his home-life pure.
Apart from State, held lessons to endure :
Bore scrutiny, for to a faith secure.
Ills soul was moored.
In dignilietl nobility he mo\ed,
With sway magnetic, loved us, and was loved ;
We miss his benign presence, now removed
To Realms of Peace.
208 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE OATES.
We could but look and marvel, while we bowed
Before his g'enius ; his vast life-work showed,
The Statesman, Scholar, Author, was endowed
With gifts from Heaven.
While on Fame's pinnacle in strength he stood.
He did the world a great and glorious good ;
A central figure, kingly, whom we could
But venerate !
He strove with hig'hest aims, whose soul has fled ;
Beloved, he sleeps with England's mighty dead :
A thousand lips have blest that honoured head.
Now laid at rest.
Oh ! may his life, its grand work nobly done.
Be emulated by each mother's son ;
In Heaven he'll have his guerdon, richly won, —
His Master's praise.
His name rings like one grand melodious chime ;
His life illustrious, and his death sublime ;
'Mid prayers he passed the bounds of space and time,
In peace {profound.
He chafed not at the bars, but passed away.
In solemn, sweet serenity, for aye ;
Upon the morning oi Ascms/ou Day, —
God claimed His own !
PflSSlHG HENCE.
Day by day the veil of Heaven,
Lifts, to let a soul pass in ;
One by one do spirits enter,
Cleansed, and purified from sin
First some loved one must ascend,
Then a true and trusted friend.
ELEGIAC KKKLSIONS. 209
Those are g'loritietl who leave us,
Crowned with honour, bent with years;
Ripe and ready for the sickle,
Such demand no iclle tears :
Work is finished, — life comj)lete,
Unto such then, rest is sweet.
They have no desire to tarry,
Throu^,'h each stage of life have passed :
Stand they waiting- to be garnered,
Welcome being the call at last:
Weary souls are ever blest,
Passing thus, in peace to rest.
But howe'er they may be ready,
Leave they many an arhing heart :
Those whom we have truly cherished.
Cause a pang when they depart ; —
Leave a void where they have been,
Yet we keep their memory green.
COHSOLiRTTOH-
Whkn a dear one has departed.
And our fond hearts are bereft ;
To the lone and stricken-hearted.
There is this sweet comfort left: —
That though it was hard to sever,
Costing us such bitter j)ain ;
Yet they are not lost ior ever, —
We shall meet them once again : —
Hear then how for us they've waited,
With a welcome and a smile ;
Joy ! to think we're separated
" Only for a little while."
Now we think they were the dearest.
When we fmd that they lia\ e l1ed ;
And the heart-ties were the nearest, —
Such are memories of the dead I
210
POEMS BY CHARLOTTE OATES.
Still we've other hearts to cherish,
'Mid the sacredness of grief;
Prize them now, before they perish, —
Let the effort bring relief.
Something- yet to strive for, seeming
In the cloud a silver band ;
Through the darkness Hope is gleaming,-
Let it take us by the hand.
All our love will be requited ;
Here true consolation lies, —
We shall soon be reunited,
In one Home beyond the skies.
^.y^&\
■^3S — 4il!S'-Mlf —
CHRISTMAS CHIMES. 211
€HIlISfl/IlS DHIMSa
cHRisxmAS.
-Christmas is coming", in g"arlancls of snow,
Out of the vista of Time ;
The white wreaths are shining like g-ems on his brow.
And his beard is bespans^led with rime.
Out of the realms of the mystic Unknown,
He comes to the Present in smiles;
As cheer\' and pleasant as those that have flown,
And full of his legends and wiles.
His voice is the wind as it sweeps o'er the land.
And sing's over mountain and vale :
Then" give him a welcome, and clasp of the hand —
For see ! he is hearty and hale.
His hair is bedeiked with the silvery snow,
His breath is the winterv chill,
That stifles the pond, and the rivulet's flow,
And arrests the sweet voice of thr rill.
He bears the good things that he only can bring.
To garnish the festal array ;
While Plenty and Peace sit aloft on his wing.
He l)ids us l)e haj:>py and gay.
Then give him a welcome to every hearth.
To preside over laughter and glee ;
For he is the bearer of pleasure and mirlli —
And who is so merry as he ?
212 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE OATES.
cHHisxmfls eVe.
Over the snow, the crispening- snow,
The people are hurrying" to and fro.
On the Eve ot the Natal Morn ;
Crunching- the crystals beneath their feet,
Some gaily trip through the gaslit street.
Some are weary, and sad, and worn.
Over the snow, the drifted snow,
They greet each other as on they g-o,
For 'tis now when all hearts expand;
From over the border, and far away.
They meet on the Eve of the joyful day
From the distant parts of the Land.
Over the snow, the shimmering snow.
Under the stars, as they peep below,
Far into the cold white world.
From loving friends who must dwell apart.
Kind offerings passing from heart to heart,.
Are over the Land being whirled.
We see the spirit of Mirth abroad.
In the market town, and the country road,
For it floats in the frosty air ;
And Plenty smiles on the festive scene.
For linked together they oft are seen,
In the homes ot the wealthy there.
And here is Poverty, gaunt and grim,
It hangs about in the starlight dim,
And its haunts are the narrow ways ;.
But what is better than all the rest,
The spirit of Charity, always blest,
For it brightens the wintry days ;
In noiseless gossamer robes of white,
It sheds a lustre into the night,
As it flitteth from door to door —
A beautiful, pure, and heaven-born thing,
The bearer of happiness under its wing.
As it hies to the homes ol the poor.
CHRISTMAS CHIMKS. 21 3
CHRiSTmAs moRN
Unlockki) are the ^aies of morn,
And Christmas enters, as the silence deep
Is broken ; while the sound of merry bells
On the chill)- air is borne.
And long ere the dawn has shed
Its dim grey light, and covered all the stars,
'Glad music, swelling from a thousand throats,
Over all the land is spread.
On the frost-encrusted earth
A host of Christians stand : with one accord.
They burst in songs of praise, to bless the day
Of the great Messiah's birth.
There, with uplifted eyes,
They sing, and wake the echoes of the hills;
The glorious chorus in sweet silvery strains
Floats upward to the skies.
While the hallow'd morning breaks.
And rosy color streaks the eastern skies, —
They're chanting still ; beneath the fading stars,
Till every sleeper wakes.
The heavens look cold and sad. [streams :
And snow-charged clouds hang o'er the frostbound
Yet people in the fulness of their hearts,
Have made each other glad.
A CHlRISTmAS GI^EETIHC.
Takk my hearty Christmas greeting.
On the joyful natal morn ;
May all good things sent from Heaven.
Unto you ami yt^urs be borne.
214 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE OATES.
Hark ! a thousand joy-bells pealing-,
All proclaim throug^hout the land,
It is Christmas ! all men brothers.
Shake each other by the hand !
Emulating- Christ our Saviour,
Heart to heart in love be bound ;
And the poor ones with our blessing.
At the plenteous board be found.
May your Christmas-tide be happy.
Rich with boons that make life fair ;
Merry hearts with mirth overflowing-.
All untouched by g^rief or care.
Angel fingers drop from Heaven
Crystal snow-flakes, pure and bright,.
Clothing Nature while she's sleeping.
In her wintry night-robe white.
Berries bright adorn the hedge-rows.
With the frost-gems all among ;
Where the hardy robin cheers us.
With his welcome winter song.
When the wintry blast is coldest.
Warmest then our hearts should be ;
By the cosy coal-fire g-lowing,
Friends unite in festive glee.
Blest ourselves, while blessing others,
Love and peace will be our share ;
Then with hearts in thanks uplifted,
Welcome in the glad New Year!
Hom TO sPEj^D cH^isTmAs.
Thk season should be fraught with joy, then do the best
you can
To si)end it well, to make it jjright, and this should be
the plan ; —
LHKISTMAS CHIMES. JI5
Go first of all on Christmas morn, and kneel in praise
and prayer,
Then lift your voice in hymns of joy, to g:reet the Saviour
there.
In hapi)y homes, old friends and kin should meet from
far away,
In "Peace on earth, (goodwill to men." should pass the
natal day;
To happy be, let heart and hand that day be open wide ;
Make others blest, if you would spend a merry Christmas-
tide :
Find joy in making- others glad, with cheerful heart and
voice.
And in the midst of all forg-et not ivhy we all rejoice ;
But keep in mind the One whose birth has blest our
winter day ;
Let not your hymns be empty sounds— be earnest when
you pray.
Nor yet forget the aged, the poor, the sick with weary
heart ;
By loving words, and timely gifts, some joy to such
impart ;
And look at those in lowly life, if you would be content ;
Then render daily thanks to God, for all the mercies sent.
And if affliction be not nigh, let ever>' one be glad ;
At Christmas-time, of all the year, we never should be sad,
Rut be at peace with all the world, and have a conscience
clear;
In no man's debt, and vuu will end with joy the good
Old Year.
With lightsome heart, you then will join the festive
ihrong with glee,
And be a welcome guest around the laden Christmas-
tree —
Be found among the cheery hearts who love the si)rightly
jest,
And ioin the music and the dance, and merry games
\\ ith zest.
2l6 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE DATES.
At yule-tide while we love the most the warm and cosy
hearth,
Let out-door recreation, too, enhance the season's mirth ;
To walk, to skate, to ride or drive, and hardy pastimes
seek
For youth, if they would have the bloom of health upon
their cheek.
Amid your pleasures, be not deaf to what the wise can
preach ;
Find time for calm reflection, too, on all the good they
teach ;
Be wise and merry, and each day, fling round on every
side
What g-ood you can, and God above, v^^ill bless your
Christmas-tide.
THE DVlflG VEflt^.
The year has grown old, it is withered and cold,
'Tis going, with its joy and its sorrow ;
And soon we shall greet, the untried, and the sweet,
Fair infantile year of to-morrow.
Now Time does enrol, on his full-lettered scroll,
Another account to his keeping :
And soon he'll unfurl, as his wheels swiftly whirl,
Another blank sheet while we're sleeping.
Then Fate wields her pen, and the fortunes of men
Sets down, and engraves them for ever ;
We cannot erase whatsoe'er she may trace, —
For she works for the bountiful Giver.
God grant by her side may sweet Mercy preside,
And what though it cannot unbend her;
Whate'er she decree, that olir destinies be, —
'Twill veil in its wisdom so tender !
CHRISTMAS CHIMES. JI7
But break not the spell of a solemn farewell.
While jifloweth the bla/in-^- lo^'--fire :
With God he at peace, ere its pulses shall cease, —
In prayer let the Old Year expire.
The while that we kneel, let our conscience reveal
The errors, that daily betide us ;
Then offer a j)rayer, that the coming" new year
Bring' light from our Father to guide us.'
F"ull many a home ma\' be folded in gloom,
And many a heart- tie be riven ;
And many a face may be missed from its place, —
I'ut think of the loved ones in Heaven !
P'or the past give a sigh, now the year will soon die.
Give thanks for the blessings that reach us:
To some it were stern, yet from grief we ma\' learn,
The beautiful lessons it teaches.
Its visions arise in the black midnight skies,
And ghosts of its memories olden ;
On the walls of the past, its dark shadows are cast,-
And yet it had g-leams that were golden !
Yon snow-laden cloud, is its funeral shroud, —
The past like a dream comes before us ; —
Oh ! lead us aright, gracious God, in Thy might, —
And keep Thou a loving watch o'er us.
TO THE r^EUU YEAR.
SwKKT little cherub, what dost thou bring,
Hidden beneath thv bright little wing?
Sunshine and sluulnw thou bearesl I know, —
For such is the fate of all mortals below.
And yet thou art coming light-hearted and gay,
And strewing good wishes around thee to-day:
Rut thou wilt grcnv older, thy cares will increase,-
Thou canst not be always so young and at peace.
2l8 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
Whate'er be our portion we welcome thee still.
The' with every valley thou brino-est a hill ;
Burdens and crosses, to drop at thy call, —
Thou has plenty of pleasure to balance them all !
Then come little stranger — Recorder of Fate,
Preside at thy post, for we anxiously wait ;
Whatever thou bringest, dispense it with care, —
Distribute thine happiness everywhere.
A J^ELU-VEAH C^EETIHG.
My friends, I wish you one and all.
A happy, glad, New Year ; —
That sorrow may not on you fall,
But all be bright and fair.
1 wish the frail, infirm, and old,
A happy, peaceful, year ;
Protection from the winter's cold, —
Of comforts have their share.
And may the honest toiling poor
Have strength for Labour's call ;
Prosperity, with bounteous store.
To recompence them idl.
To all the little children fair.
Around the cheerful hearth ;
I wish a happy, bright new year.
To teem with joy and mirth.
Their voices give my heart a thrill,
God bless each little ftice !
And may each one be si)ared to fill
A noble, useful, place.
In spirit we may meet again.
To greet another year :
And until then, may you remain
Beneath our Father's care.
CHRISTMAS CHIMKS. 219
We know not what the coming year
Is brini^in'i' on its wini,'' :
But let us strive to meekly hear
The crosses it may bring-.
The Young" Year's coming new to all,
With fresh unopened hours ;
Hush ! let the Old Year's curtain fall,—
Be silunt while it low ers.
l^ESOLiUTIOHS FOR THE [^ELU YEAF^.
May these resolutions be kept this New Year; —
First, let us be constant in |)raise and in prayer;
Each night, and each morning, through life as we plod,
Forget not devoutly to kneel to our God.
Next, be well employed, daily duties fulfil.
Whatever our task, do it well, with a will ;
Nor waste precious time, for too swiftly it flies —
(to early to bed, that we eiirly may rise.
In all things be temperate, never abuse,
The things that were meant for our rational use;
Be patient, vile tempers and passions repress, —
'Tis selfishness only that leads to excess.
Resolve next, to utter no harsh unkind word, —
ln\ecti\es too strong', nor let slan ler be heard :
Speak only of good, nor infer there is guile,
Far better be silent than others revile.
A good rule is this, for the orthcoming year,
To |)ay all our debts, and to keep straight and clear;
And if we should lind that our income is small.
Then just in proportion our wants should all fall.
All those who are able, and easy can live.
According to means to the poor ones should give ;
The wealthy their riches remi'rnber to sharr-.
Thus help all to have a bright hapi)y New Year!
220 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
l^ELiliIE'S CHf^ISTmflS.
She woke in the morning" twilig"ht dim,
As the welcome strains of the grand old hymn
Went iloating- up on the frosty air.
And 'roused the child in her chamber there.
She quickly rose from her little bed,
Then bent her knee, while her prayers she said :
She soug'ht her stocking", which was replete
With Christmas presents, both g'ood and sweet.
Then drest in haste, ere she raised the blind.
While happiest day-dreams filled her mind.
The window curtain she held aside,
And viewed the landscape, so white and wide :
She g'azed above at the cold g'rey skies.
And marked the giow where the sun would rise.
The child in her faith looked up afar.
And soug'ht for the holy mystic star, —
The guiding light that had smiled on earth,
And shown the place of the Saviour's birth.
And then she looked on the lawn below.
Where stood the carollers out in the snow,
Who sung' to Nellie how Christ was found,
And gladdened her heart with the joyful sound.
And then she jauntily tript the stair,
And found the room where her parents were;
She lovingly went to each clear one's side
And wished them a merry Christmas-tide.
Then neiitly drest in her crimson frock,
She went and answered the postman's knock ;
He brought her greetings from many a friend —
The brightest missives the heart can send.
Then breakfast came, and the birds were fed,
By Nellie's hand, with the crumbs of bread.
Then wrapt in furs, and with feet well shod.
She next set out for the House of God ;
The church bells rang with a merry sound,
The while she trudged o'er the snow-clad ground;
Beside her mother she entered there,
The temple sacred to praise and prayer;
CHRISTMAS CHIMKS. I'-T
Where evergreens bri^'^ht w ith the berries red,
Were twined "round j^illars. and huny o'erhead.
She heard the ])astor's sweet preaching- then.
Of "Peace on earth, and good-will toward men."
She joined the hymns, and the anthems g-rand.
That told of Christ and the " Better Land."
Then forth she went from that sacred dome,
With eager steps to her own loved home :
With a merry heart and a smiling- face,
At the well-spread table she took her place ;
Of all g-ood thing-s they could well afford,
She there partook, at the Christmas board.
Then forth she went in the snow g-ain.
To where poor people lay low with pain ;
To children sick in the various wards.
She gave her toys, and her books, and cards.
Less favoured they, than our Nellie sweet,
WIio came beside them with noiseless feet,
'ihose poor pale children, that suflfering lay,
She happier made on that blessed day.
And then she hied to her home once more,
Her duteous deeds for the deiy were o'er.
When tea was over, they sat at night
'Neath lamplight glow, by the fireside bright :
With joyous heart, and with childish glee.
Our Nellie played 'neath the Christmas tree.
And w ith her young companions gay.
The evening hours w'ere whiled away,
And rest-time found them with hearts content.
A happy day had our Nellie spent.
*****
'Tis New- Year's Eve, and the guests are gone.
And in her chamber there kneels alone
Our blue-eyed Nellie, in night-robe white.
Beside her bed, in the calm moonlight;
With head bowed down on the coverlet fair.
She says this prayer for the dying year: —
" Father in love and might,
Hearken my prayer to-night,
Here in the dim moonHght,
And all alone :
.222 POEJIS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
I bow on my bended knee,
Lifting my soul to Thee,
Father look down on me,
From Thy great throne.
Answer my simple prayer,
Teach me this coming year,
Patiently how to bear.
With every ill.
Keep me from sin away,
Show me each passing day
How J can best obey
Thy holy will.
Pity this child of Thine,
Suffer Thy light to shine
Into this heart of mine,
And make me good ;
Teach me to serve Thee, Lord,
Grant that Thy gospel word.
Into my mind be stored.
And understood.
Jesus was once so weak.
Teach me to be as meek.
See that the truth 1 seek.
Nor am defiled ;
Make me, oh Father, now,
Pure as the falling snow,
And as I older grow,
A better child.
Well bs my future spent.
Teach me to live content ;
Thanks for the blessings sent.
Forgive the past ;
Grant that the angels' home,
Far from all earthly gloom.
Over yon starlit dome,
Be mine at last."
These simple words from her heart she said,
llien rest she soui^^'ht on her little bed;
At peace with God, and with all the world,
She watched for the New Year being unfurled
But sleep stole over her senses soon,
While gazing" up at the solemn moon ; --
The heavy lids o'er the blue eyes closed,
She sweetly smiled as she there reposed.
rilRIS'lMAS I lll.MK.S. 223
The niooiilij^ht lull uii iirr leaturus fair,
And kissed the curls of her jLfolden hair,
Its dusky beams o'er her pillow shed,
A sacred halo around her head.
When niidni]L;ht bells rang' the Old Year's knell,
They rang- too late for our little Nell I
Their music welcomed a New Year in,
Unmarked bv sorrow, unstained bv sin;
And when its light through the window crept,
Our sainted Nellie in peace still slept :
Her soul had fled with the flying }ear,
P>eyond the reach of all earthl}' care.
Before the daw n of that New Year's day,
The child's bright s|)irit had i)assed away: — ,
An angel came on the moonbeam bright,
And l)ore it up to the Realms of Lig'ht !
A CHRlSTfnAS GIFT.
Shk daintily iri])! dow n the long" busy street.
On a loving mission of bounty bent ;
She braved the jiitiless wind and the sleet.
At her l'"ather's bidding she freel)' went :
Her merciful errand but (juickened her feet.
For she f<'lt that day was being nobly spent.
Her form was in warmest of garments arrayed.
Not a fear hafl she for the winter storm ;
The happiest smile on her countenance played.
For the heart within her was young and warm :
The bright touch of health on her cheeks was disjjlayed.
And in ev'ry line of her lithe young form.
She passed by the poor, and the affluent child.
As December's daylight began to wane ;
She passed by the houses that cheerily smiled.
And the gay shop windows with lights allame.
Whert; the withering- breath of old Boreas wild,
llad congeali'd thr vapour upon the pane.
224 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE OATES.
At last she arrived at a neat, humble cot,
Where she paused, and knocked at the lowly door;
And when it was opened it showed her a spot,
With Poverty's seal from its roof to floor;
But oh ! from that moment she never forgot.
The cleanly aspect that cottage wore.
Two worthy old dames, who had better days seen.
Had resided there since their fortunes fell ;
Their poverty fain from the world they would screen.
They never a tithe of their woes would tell ;
And never once pondered on what " might have been,"
But they trusted God, and felt all was well.
Resigned, and unmurm'ring, in peace they dwelt there.
And they envied not what the rich can hoard ;
Each morsel they had they would lovingly share,
Contentment smiled on their scanty board ;
They cherished each other with sisterly care.
For love is a lux'ry the poor can afford.
One came to the stranger who stood there so white
(For the snowflakes lay on her cloak and gown) ;
She seemed like a ministering angel of light.
As her Father's bounty she there laid down ;
With kind loving words and a smiling' face bright,
It was softly placed in the old hand brown.
Frugality there was allowed not to sleep.
For the most was made of the smallest crumb ;
That sweet Christmas iJfift made the old woman weep.
But her thanks for a moment refused to come ;
For words will not flow when the feelings lie deep,
Yet " the eyes will speak when the lips are dumb."
Ijy the hand's warm pressure her joy was exprest,
And the smile that broke o'er the care-worn face ;
Few words did she say, but enough to attest,
That the maid with sunshine hiid filled the place;
Thus she went from that cottage rejoicing and blest,.
For she nearer was to the Throne of Grace !
CHRISTMAS ( III.MKS. 22^
rJEOi YEAR'S EVE.
Another year has winded its flight.
Since last we met each other liere ;
And now we meet ag"ain to-ni^-ht.
With joyous hearts and words of cheer.
How fast the year has passed away,
Since last we joined in converse sweet !
Its each alternate night and day
Has run its course, — 'tis now complete.
1 see your faces 'round me rang-ed,
So happy and so radiant now;
They are the same, thoui^h some have chani,'-ed-
For Time has touched us on the brow ;
Rut some with such a j^entle hand,
rhat he has scarcely left a trace :
Where Grief he brouj^ht, they left their brand
Imprinted deeply on the face.
As back we look upon the past,
Now- Memory' sees the spots of lig^ht :
And where a shadow has been cast.
It makes the rest ajjpear more briijht.
We know not what our fates may be.
For Mercy deftl\' holds a screen,
That man the future may not see, —
He is but certain what has been.
All my j^-ood wishes g'o with you
Into the future, dim and far;
I would that Hope to you were true, —
Thai I'aith may be your i^-uidiny- star.
Then may we each and all be spared
To meet aL;ain another year.
And all relate how we have larcil.
Without the semblance of a tear.
220 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE OATES.
The year is like a mighty book,
Which we have made complete to-night;
Each page is full, one backward look
We've ta'en, before 'tis lost to sight : —
For it will soon be placed away,
Henceforth 'twill be beyond our grasp ;
But ere it leaves us, lei ns pray, —
Thus close it with a golden clasp !
THE mEETIJ^G OF THE VEflf^S.
Out of the Land of the great Henceforth,
There came a young beautiful child :
A sweet fair thing, with a snow-tipt wing.
And it gaily nodded and smilecl.
It wore a flowing garment of white, —
Nearly concealing its form ; —
That Mercy had thrown, in a way of her own,
As a shield from many a storm.
The child was timid, and fresh, and pure,
And paused on the threshold of Time ;
Then it glided in, with a dimpling chin, —
At the sound of the midnight chime.
It met a veteran, bent and grey.
Coming out of Time's Temple so slow,
With a mournful look, and he carried a book,
Which he gave to the child, with a bow. —
The child stept up to the vacant Throne,
Where the sire had reigned in state ;
Then it took his place, with a pleasing grace,
And opened the Volume of h'ate.
CHRISTMAS illIMKS. 22;
HOPE LUITH l^BWi YEAR'S DALUH-
Thk young- year glided in unseen,
And took its place when all was dark :
Krom realms of space and time serene.
Sent here for us to live and mark :
Oh ! may we nobly fill its days,
And golden way-posts stri\f to raise.
Hope, born anew, arose from out
The first faint dawn-tints in the sky,
On New Year"s morn ; and gazed about.
Ere downward it began to fly :
'I'his earth-to heaven, with golden thread.
Connecting, as it swiftly sped.
To cheer its lovers waiting here ;
For they are legion who can feel,
That it doth dry the grief-drawn tear.
And ne.xt to Faith, has power to heal
The broken spirit, — bring a balm,- —
Diffuse a sweet and holy calm :
.\nd l3Uoyimt make the drooping heart :
'Tis thus we wiitch with upstrained eyes
its advent ; for it doth impart
A radiant glow, like that which dyes
The morning's gorgeous mantle bright.
That gives the dawn-clouds rosy light.
Like a white dove thus Hope descends.
With New Year's dawn 'tis welcomed here :
And angel-like, its presence lends.
To us a foretaste of the Sphere
Unknown to pain ; thus peace it brings,
.And sweet contentment 'round us Mings.
Delusive "tis to him who clings
Too closely to the things of earth :
Forgetting that from heaven it springs —
That from the skies it has its birth ;
Though yester-year it seemed to wane.
It, phojnix-like, ran rise again.
228 POKilS BY CHARLOTTK OATES.
To life and toil Hope g^ives a zest, —
Makes us hold on, when dark despair
Had near' o'ermastered ; 'tis our best
Attendant through the coming" year :
It tinctures all our joys below,
And makes life's current brisker flow.
ISlELU YEAH f^EFLiECTlOHS.
We are passing along through, this life below.
And our gracious Father has given us now,
From our futurity's endless store,
A new year, stainless as those before.
Unlived, unmarked, in His hand it lies,
A mystery, pure as the iar-off skies ;
Its months ixnd days are of virgin white.
And may we fill them, and make them bright
"With noble actions, and deeds of love,
So win a blessing from Him above.
Oh ! that no record of wrong or sin
Would mar the year we have ushered in I
But may it stand in the ranks of Time
A bright example, unstained by crime;
Whilst grace and goodness its name adorn.
Be honoured ]>y thousands yet unborn I
We are passing' along, and the fleeting years
Bring waves upon us of smiles and tears, —
Of joy and gladness, of grief and woe.
In lights and shadows they come and go.
As Time glides by on his pinions fast,
The old year sinks in the silent past ;
'Tis but a memory, never again
Will come its jileasures, nor care, nor pain.
How wise is God's considerate plan.
That He pc'rmitteth the mind of man.
To recall past jo}s ; with a vivid power
We live again through each long-past hour
Of dear delights ; and they o'er and o'er
So real and loncful can Hash before
CMKISr.MAS C'lH.MKS. J29
The mental vision. While mortal pain
Once felt in passing,'', comes ne'er ay^ain
At man's own will ; and it must we know
Be done in mercy to us Itelow.
But Memory keejjs through the lajtse of years
Our byi^'one sorrows embalmed in tears;
Subdued and softened, she holds them still
And brinji^s them forth at her own sad will :
But smoothed Ijy Time, like the pebbles j^r^ey
Upon the rivulet's well-worn way.
We are passing;' alony, and we may not stay.
'Tis birth and yrowth, then slow decay ;
Time works his chang;es, as one by one.
The seasons come, and the days speed on.
Now looking;- back on the vanished year,
The g-leams of lij^ht throu'^h its mists appear;
Though rich it were in some memories sweet.
In works of j^oodness 'twas incomplete.
And thouj^'-h the i)ast we ca-i ne'er erase,
May we illumine this year of g^race ;
And so improve on the one now dead, —
Make this revered when its days are fled.
Farewell old year ! We have watched it die
In the arms of Winter, "neath g^rey-hued sky:
Its younij successor we jrladly i:reet,
Unknown, untrodden, it is but meet,
To bid it welcome ; and may it bring-
To you, dear friends, on its glowing" wing.
Bright gifts from Heaven ; and throuo-h it fall
God's sweetest blessings upon you all !
May no misfortunes its annals dim,
Impressed in memories sad and grim ; —
May no dark shadows upon you frown.
But God's approval good efforts crown : —
His holy light throu!,di the new year shine, —
His peace be with you. and lo\e divine I
"X^j-^
230 POEJIS BY CHARLOTTE DATES.
R Pf^flYEf? FOf^ THE liBUX YEAt^.
Father of righteousness, Father of li,2:ht,
Oh ! in Thy graciousness hear us to-night, —
Bend in Thy mercy to Ust to our prayer, —
Give us new hearts with the coming New Year !
Father, forgive all our sins of the past,
Grant that all guilt from our souls may be cast;
Look down in pity on us from Thy Throne,
Hear us ! nor leave us to wander alone !
Father of goodness, upon Thee we call,
Ne'er to forsake us whatever befall ;
Deign to look down from Thy glory on High,
Hearken Thy people in penitence cry!
Hallowed Father, may this be Thy will, —
Guide us, and bless us, and keep us from ill :
In Thy beneficence. Father Above,
Lead us aright, in Thy goodness and love !
Guardian Father, oh I this would we ask,
Give us but strength for our labour and task : —
Strength to be kept from the dark sinful way, —
Strength to resist all temptation, we pray !
Merciful Father, upon Thee we lean.
Give us Thy guidance. Thou mighty Unseen !
Help and support us, and teach us oh Lord,
How to obey, and to follow Thy Word.
Father Omniijotent ! Thee we implore,
Soothe the afflicted, and care for the poor !
Fear we Thy Hand when in vengeance it lowers, ,
Thanks for the blessings, oh God ! that are ours.
Help us to keej) good resolves that we make, —
Shrink from all baseness, and live for Thy sake: —
Love one another, and lift through Thy Hand,
Some of the shadows that darken th(- land.
CHRISTMAS CHIMKS. ^-{l
Worshipful Father ! Whose name we revere,
Soften the road for Thy people while here;
Make us. g-ood Iv.eei)er, more |)ur(^ that a [ilace
Each may deserve, in Thy Kingdom of Grace.
Dark is the jiast with man's evil and wrong's.
Pure is the future, to Thee it belong"s ;
Now Thou art sending" another New Year,
White and unlived in, unblemished and fair!
Father, we pray that this opening New Year,
When it shall close, on its annals may bear
Records sublimer than those that have gone.
Bright with the traces of noble deeds done.
Father of gdory ! oh I let us pursue.
Nought but the g'ood, and be steadfast and true ;
When this New Year shall drop into the past.
Let it shine forth with a light that will last :—
May it stand out, when 'tis past, from the rest,
Clothed with a halo so sacred and blest;
Better than aug-ht we have passed throug-h before,
Spent in the service of One we adore.
Lord in Thy wisdom, oh ! show us the way.
How we may best Thy commandments obey ;
Show us our duty, nor let us depart.
Put into each of us now a new heart.
Bountiful Father, we ask at this hour,—
Naught is too much for Thy infinite power, —
Make us anew, we beseech Thee to-night.
Shed on the heads of Thy pilgrims Thy light.
Great is Thy love for Thy children we know.
Deeper, far deeper, than that we bestow
On one another: oh! Spirit ot Love. —
May wc all merit Thy fa\our Above.
Father we cra\e Thou to us wilt reveal, —
Knowing' Thou knowest how worthless we feel, —
Daily Thy presence ; dear Master Divine.
Lift up the erring- and call us all Thine !
232
POEMS 1!V CHAKLOTTK GATES.
Earnestly, hopefully. Father we plead,
Wilt Thou befriend us ? — protection we need ;
Suffer us all to inherit that peace,
Born of a conscience, when virtues increase.
Out of the future the young" year we see,
Comes full of mysteries known but to Thee ; —
Rich with fresh hopes its first moments appear,
Be it a blest and a happy New Year !
Father in heaven, we kneel to Thee now,
Hear our petition I as humbly we bow; —
Make us all worthy a home with Thee there,
Kneeling-, we trust Thee,
and
greet the New Year !
-.J^%5^
'"■'"iijjisft-'""
RANDOM KIIY.MKS. 233.
IlA:^fDDM Ili[T:MES>
PAST Ar4D PFJESENT.
A iO/tZ'trsa//(>/i InliViiii Laura am/ her Graitilma.
Laura. " I'm goirii,'- to be married clear G rand mama soon'^
Our wedding" is ^'"oing'to take place in next June : '
Grail. " You I .yointi' t^^ be married ? you silly youn.y'thing'I
Such foolish ideas from your mind you must fling;
But nowadays girls are so forward and pert.
For most of them seem so determined to flirt
When / was a g"irl, sixty years ago now,
1 had not your pleasures, you'd say I was "slow; "
I never played tennis, nor skated, nor danced," —
Laura. " O tell me dear (iranny. how then has it chancer!
Those white satin slipi)ers you came to possess,
And yon fine brocaded low-bodiced white dress ^
You showed them me once, 1 remember it well.
You said thatyou'dwornthem\\hen}ou wereagirl."
Gran. " Yes Laura, I did. now the act I recall,
Yet certain 1 am 1 ne'er danced at a ball ;
I bought them to wear at a ])arty at home.
When just a few L^irls to my l)irthdav would come
1 never was one who was fc^iid ot display,
Ancl thus the fine things were soon treasured away.
A dance is not ui7,' what it used to be ///<«,
'lis made up of parties of maidens ;ind men ;
And those who indulge in an innocent dance,
Sometimes are led into a maze of romance :
Most truly this is an " electrical age,'
Doing- things with despatch is becoming the rage :
And love even now soon ignites to be sure,
But love soon aflame is not bound to endure.
In /iiv younger days, then a maid was a maid,
1 minded my work, and was modest and staid ;
I ne\er once flirted, nor cared for the men : "
234 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE OATES.
Laura. "Yet Grandpapa courted and married you then ?
Gran. " Yes dearie he did, but "twas all his own doing-,
I kept at my spinning", while he did the wooing- ;
He followed me long", but I kept him at bay," —
Laura. " But Granny, you let him at last have his way ? "
Grafi. •' I did my dear child, when I found theit his love
Was pure as the dew that descends from above ;
I tested him long-, ere I gave him my heart.
And sad was the day he was called to depart.
But yoi/ are too young- to be married child yet,
The words of your lover now try to forget ;
And drive from your head his nonsensical talk.
It seems but last week that I learned you to walk !
You stay a few years in your unfettered state.
And don't be afraid you will then be too late ;
For marriage bring"s bushels of care in its train,
In fact all my days 1 would single remain,
If I were as young and as pretty as you ; "
Laura. " You once were, then Granny why did not you do ?"
Gran. " O Laura ! "tis rude to ask questions, I thought
That you better manners long since had been
I was not encircled like you my dear child, [taught ;
The love of my parents upon me ne'er smiled ;
They went to their rest in my infantile days.
And left me alone in the world's thorny ways :
A brother's and sister's sweet love I knew not,
A life among- strangers was then my sad lot ;
And when to woman's estate I had grown,
1 wanted to have a nice home of my own."
Laura. '• And / want one Granny now just same as you.
For I am now twenty, and he twenty-two."
Gran. " Butyou'7>e no excuse to be married my dear,
You've got a good home, and kind relatives here :
And marriage for you is a really bad plan.
To leave your mamma for the sake of a man ! "
Laura. " But Granny look liere, though Fa does not com-
He has plenty to do with us all to maintain ; [plain.
And when I leave home I relieve poor Papa,
And Clara and Harry will see to Mamma:
Then Edgar has said he is dying for me.
And thus 'tis a charity, do you not see .' —
RANUOM RHYMES. 235
I save a dear life, ami I save Papa's purse,
So thing's will be Ijetter, instead of being" worse :
I make Itil<rar happy, and sj)are Pajia's store,
i'hat you and ihu others may all have the more ! "'
Gran. "O that is your logfic, you clever young- miss.
Rut don't think tliat weiilock is nothing but bliss;
It is my dear child a most serious thing-,
' ris not all so fair as the flowers in spring- :
Then look well around, ere you venture to leap,
For under the surface stern duty lies deep :
Consider things well, for there's time enough yet,
Or when 'tis too late you may some day reg:ret.
I hope that young- Edg-ar is true and sincere,
Look well at his heart ere he takes you my dear:
Learn all his j^ast life, and reject him my child.
If once he has walked in the ways of the wild ;
And if his young- life has been all that it should.
He'll bear to be tested, if honest and good :
But if he recoils at the questions you ask,
Be certain that something lies under the mask :
Mind too that the lad has a blessing' \x\ you.
Let wisdom and prudence your conduct pursue:
Whatever the portion that falls to your share.
Remember you always must bear ■6X\A forbear."
Laura. " I'll promise dear Granny to be a good wife.
My love for my Edgar will cease but with life;
Rut how you mistrust him, dear Grandmama, when
I know he's a jewel, a prince among men I
He vows that when once he my husband is made.
He'll love and jirotect me throug;h sunshine and
Gran. " 'Tis all very well for a lover to vow, [shade."
I've known them to break them too often ere now :
ThiHigh now you think Grandma is doting and old.
You'll value my words when I'm lifeless and rold.
1 think Laura dear, I have now had my •' say. "
You've got my advice, but may go your own way ;
1 only have warned you dear child to beware,
And not to go blindlold right into a snare;
For life is too earnest, no shadow or dream.
And men are deceiltui, and not what they seem.
Then marriage they say is a lottery, child,
And when to the altar we once are beguiled.
236 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE OATES.
We all take our chance, be it better or worse ;
To some 'tis a blessing", to others a curse :
But here is a truth which we cannot disguise,
That fift}' draw blanks where there's one draws a
prize ! "
Laura. "But yuuivc tried it Grandma, and don't seem to
rue ? "
Gran. " Because child my partner was noble and true ;
A man in a hundred was Grandpapa, dear.
And g"o the land oer you'll not find his compeer."
I.aura. "I've found him in Edgar dear Granny, you mind
I draw a first prize when I wed him, you'll find ;
He's good and sincere, and you knmv that he is,
And talk as you like, I am going to be his I "
Gran. "Well child, I suppose you must do as you please,
But love was worth more in the old days than
these : "
YOt^KSHlRE FflCTOHV Glf^LiS.
They rise at morn, with cheerful hearts.
While factory bells are ringing";
And make towards the lotty mills, —
Their shawls around them clinging.
With dresses neat, and clattering clogs —
Though wet and w ild the weather, —
They trudge contentedly to work,
In joyous groups together.
In winter-time, at early morn —
So dark, and chill, and dreary. —
Respond they to the mill-bell's call.
With faces bright and cheery.
They pride themselves in well-done work
And in their prompt attendance ;
And draw their weekly recompense
With nati\e independence.
KAXnOM KIIV.MKS. 2^7
On Sundays see them in their pride,
With neat and shinint,'- tresses :
Fine things they wear ; and in the style
Are all their well-earned dresses I
They love a happy song- or jest.
By way of recreation ;
And they enjoy a hearty laugh,
And social conversation.
Go where you will, throughout the land.
Among-st all creeds and classes,
None will excel in face and form
These bonny Yorkshire lasses I
F\fi OLiD mAlD.
Whkn 1 was a girl. I remember it well.
For 1 had not the head of a sage ;
I wanted to grow, and look older you know-
By far, than I did, for my age ;
I wanted to be a grown woman you see.
And did all I possibly could,
To try to ajipear as if older, 'tis (|ueer
When youthful, we most of us should.
My age I then told just as free and as bold,
As girls will all do for a while ;
I boasted of mine till I reached twent\--nine.
But there I stood still ! — you may smile.
And ever since then, I've concealed from the mi-n
The date, and the year of my birth :
I never shall own. it will only be known.
When I have de{)arted from earth I
I fain would conceal the slight traces that steal,
On what was my once " marble brow " :
For to tell you the truth, I am " past my first youth.
I really must own to that now.
I never h.a\ c met with my ideal as yet.
Though I so long single ha\e staved :
238 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE OATES
I've done with romance, you may see at a glance
I am what people call " an old maid ! "
Of suitors 'tis true I have had just a few,
But none that I'd link with my fate ;
Some asked me to wed, but I loftily said,
" Not yet," — for I wanted to wait.
Some praised my fair face, but I kept them in place.
Whenever they made an advance ;
With one I'd have had, it was equally bad,
For he did'nt once give me the chance !
My real lover died, and it can"t be denied
That his death filled my heart with regret ;
I grieved for a time, for he went in his prime,
And I cherish his memory yet.
And thus for a while, with a satisfied smile —
Though scorning attentions men paid —
I haughtily said, with a toss of my head,
" I never will be an old maid ! —
To sit at my tea, with a cat on my knee,
And tell all the gossip I'd heard : —
And never be seen but in spectacles green.
The prospect seems really absurd ! —
And then they're so prim, with some old-fashioned whim,
And always so awfully •' slow " ;
Ah ! had I then known I should be one, 1 own
I should'nt have rallied at them so.
When I could not find just the man to my mind,
I began to be rather afraid —
As years kept going by, and no offers had I —
That I might have to be an old maid.
Rut that is all past, and I am one at last.
Ah yes, and a merry one too ;
I've a plentyful purse, so I might be much worse.
And I always find plenty to do.
I've a nice tabby cat, you be certain of that,
I never feel lonely and cold ;
1 can sit at my ease, and do just as I please,
For I have not a husband to scold.
With nephews and nieces my pleasure increases.
They love to come see me, and still
When aught goes amiss, then the best of it is
I can send them away at my will !
RANDOM RHY.MKS. 239
When assistance they want, it is " g-o and fetch Aunt,'
rhey know I will Lfive them my aid :
I'm ready to call, and make out for them all.
So you should'nt despise an old maid.
Then never despair all you maidens so fair,
For 1 am content, and am blest :
I'm happier fiir, than some married folks are,
i laug-h and I sing with the best.
There's much we can do in this world it is true.
Thouj^h wedlock may be not our lot ;
Some old maids have wroug^ht, both in deeds and in
Much good, that will ne'er be forgot. [thought.
I tr)' to fulfil with a hearty goodwill.
The duties that on me are laid :
And let you all see that there reallv can be —
A usc'lul and happy old maid I
THAT r4A0CHTY DEmOH tDf^IJ^K!
(Child's Temi-er.a.nck Rkcitatiox.)
OxK thing I now will shun I vow.
Though I am but a child ;
Strong drink, 1 mean, which long has been.
A demon fierce and wild :
To shame and sin it draws one in.
And who so low would sink '■!
Oh ! I for one will always shun,—
That naughty demon • Drink 1 "
When I grow tall, 111 show you all.
The good I'll do some day;
I'll do my best, to " down " the pest.
And chase it right away :
There's power in me, could you but see.
Though this you little think:
I'll bring it out, that it may rout.
That naughty demon, " Drink '. "
240 POKMS BY CHARLOTTK GATES.
rf they should try to tempt me, why
I'll always turn aside ;
And say them nay, for who shall say
What evil, drink may hide ?
And then at last, when youth is past,
I'll have more g'old to clink;
Then those who waste their coins to taste.
That naughty demon "Drink ! "
And all you here, companions dear.
Come join me in the right;
Though we are small, yet if we all,
But try with all our might.
To lend a hand to those who stand
So near to ruin's I)rink ;
We yet may save, all those who crave, —
That naughty demon " Drink ! '
Say what you will, it does some ill,
It is our greatest foe ;
Then you and 1. from now must try
To fight, and lay it low :
Such works of love, to God Above
Will form a closer link ;
Then let us j>ray, that we may slay —
i'hat naughtv demon " Drink I "
' SPEAK OF A OlflH AS YOU
Whkn meet \ou a man whom you think is no sham.
And if a staunch friend you should prove him ;—
f straight are his ways, then give him your praise,
Win others to know, and to love him ;
The mischevidus longue would fain do him wrong,
Heed not his detractors behind him ;
Say what you think true, and you never will rue,
P)Ul speak of a man as you lind him.
RANDOM RHYMKS. 24I
The mind ihiit is b:ise is revealed in the face.
And so is the one that is narrow ;
Some men may be <jood, l)ut their • i)Iebian ' blood.
Is scorned by the mean and the shallow :
We all have a fault, so as well 'tis to halt.
Before we condemn one another ;
Think well of a man. then, as lony as you can.
I'ntil some grave fault you discover.
Hut prove it well then, ere the man you condemn,
lie sure that your censure he merits :
And probe well the case, look the facts in the face,
False rumour stern justice discredits.
And lend him your ear, that himself he may clear,
Tis always the fairest and surest :
For vile tongues we know have often ere now.
Reviled e'en the best and the purest.—
The heart that is pure can no slander endure.
Suspicion the guileless ne'er reaches :
Their trust's oft betrayed, they're in base coin repaid.
Experience stern lessons such teaches :
The ignorant mind, of the type unrefined.
Too oft is the harl)Our for slander :
'Twould have us believe that all hearts will deceive,—
All people from \irtue now wander.
From Envy is bred, and by ^^alice is spread.
Untruths that are really ai)palling:
We all need to mind, or in some way we finil.
We under their influence are falling :
Speak well if you can, 'tis a capital plan.
To raise some poor sister or brother;
Be silent for aye if you only can say
Disparaging words of another.
If i)roved 'tis to you, that tis only too true.
\Vh;it gossips had whispered about him :
I lien lell him 1 say, in a straighttorward way.
The reason you slight him, or doubt him :
And if you should deem he deserves no esteem.
And merits your friendship no longer.
Then shun hirn say I ! and your pity deiy.
For duty must ever be stronger!
242 POEMS BY CHARLOTTK (JAIKS.
But never be triends till his ways he amends.
And seek not ag"ain to approach him ;
Unless with a view, his bad traits to subdue, ■
As teacher to firmly reproach him.
If you win him back to the straight narrow track,
And make him of friendship deservinj;^'- ;
If rescued is he, then your efforts will be
Approved by the Father we're serving.
THH COUriTHV COUSIfl.
" Good-night, my dear cousin, I really must go,
You press me to stay, but I still answer ' no ' : —
For if so much longer with you I remain, —
I shall just be too late for the nine o'clock train.
" And you know what a long lonely road I've to go ;
When I step from the train, I must jilod thro' the snow ;
But I'm glad it is moonlight, for that is a boon, —
I thought I would come while there shone the new moon.
'■' But you in the town do not give it a thought.
You here, set our country contrivance at nought :
Your streets are well paved, and with gas all alight,
So you don't know the value of moonshine so bright,
'And you my dear cousin, must come to see me :
Now when will you come .' — to-day, — let — me — see ; —
It is Thursday to-day, will you come next week soon ?
You then will enjoy the full light of this moon.''
" You really can't come quite so early, you say :
"Well then, my dear cousin, you set your own day :
I shall gladly receive you some fine afternoon, —
But be sure to come when there's light from the moon I
"And now I vnisi leiive you, 'tis time I should go : —
Remember me kindly to Auntie you know ;
I shall have a nice walk, for the moon is so brig-ht, —
So now my dear cousin, I wish you good-night ! "
RANDOM RHYMES. 243
" LUHflT mUST I LUEAt^?"
■•Uii, whiil must I do, and what must I wear?
I musl be in fashion, or people will stare;
1 noticed Miss Li^^^hthead has yot a new hat,
She looked so bewitching^, I'll have one liki- that:
Except the red feather, I'll have one pale blue,
'Twill look more becoming", /think so, don't )-<)« ?
" Oh, where must I go, and what shall I wear?
I'm bore<l with being here — for my outings are rare,
It's such a nice day, I will put on, I think,
My hat and fur jacket, and go to the rink ;
They'll show to advantage a day such as this,
I'll outshine the others, oh, won't that be bliss I
"Oh, how do I look? and what must I wear?
This tlress is old-fashioned, I had it last year ;
I don't think it suits my complexion and height.
I always look best iti a dress rather light;
I'll wear it no more ; — but now stay, when I think.
I will, when it's altered, and re-trimmed with pink !
"Oh, how did she look? and what did she wear?
I'm longing for details, describe them with care;
Then say if she"s slender, a blonde, or brunette?
If i)retty, no doubt she's an awful coquette :
What shape was her bonnet ? and how was her hair.
They say she's in style, but I don't think she's fair ' '
She wore a nice dress, that was simple and neat;
Her face beamed with smiles that were kindly and
She dressed like a prudent and sensible girl, [sweet;
Befitting her means and her stiition so well :
Her manners were all that a maiden's should be.
So modest, and yet unaffected and free.
Now some of you maidens who take such delight
In talking of dresses from morning till night.
Come listen a moment, and take my advice; —
Let not your sole object be " how to look nice ; "
Re more intellectual, then you will fiml
^'ou nobler will be. with a well-cultured mind.
244 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
Oh, maidens, dear maidens, I wish you'd think less.
Of outward appearance, — the style of your dress ;
Don't let fashion be your ambition and aim.
Or you will be proud, and conceited, and vain :
But make it your object the mind to adorn,
"Twill shine when your trinkets and dresses are worn.
To make then your lives be the better enjoyed,
Be ever with orood useful work well employed :
But frivolous finery, cast it awa}- 1
J>et thought be engaged in a nobler way :
For some of you g"irls. if you'll only confess.
Are given to thinking too much of your dress.
A liADY'S LiEAP-YEfll^ PJ^OPOSAli.
My very dear Sir, now to }"ou 1 aver,
I've liked and admired you for longv:
My presence you've sought, till I've actually thought
Our love has been mutually strong'.
You've said for a while, how )ou've lived on my smile, —
Been happy to know I was nigh :
Your low tender tone, when we've wandered alone.
The glance of your fine speaking eye.
All tell me a tale ; but I cannot prevail.
Upon you to say the one word ;
Sometimes you're inclined, but you don't sjieakNour mind.
Such diffidence seems most absurd !
Though you've not confessed, I've your sentiments
Bv signs has your love been disclosed : [guessed,.
Oftimes and again, I have tried you in vain.
And yet you have never proposed !
1 fear you are shy, so I really must try.
And show what a woman can do ;
This year I've the chance, so I'll make the advance,
And pop the great question to you !
Then will you be mine ^ would you like to resign
The life of a bachelor free, -
lis pleasures and pains, and its losses and gains.
And live and be happy with me .'
RANDOM RIIVMKS. 245
Don'i Open your eyes, as if feij^ninjj;- surprise,
As often we fair mai'iens do :
An<l say with concern, when my meaning- you li-arn.
" Oh 1 this is so sudden of you ! "
Just say '* yes ' or " no," that my fate I ma\- 1-inuw.
Be truthful, \\hati\cr you do:
Re randid 1 pray, in w iiich-ever you say,
For have I not been so with you ?
Then say what you think, nor too modestly shrink,
For fear that your words may otTend ;
If me you reject, 1 shall always respect
Your pluck, and shall still be your friend :
But if you will take this bold offer I make,
I'll jj;-ive both my hand and my heart;
If you're not averse, now •• for better for worse,"
To claim me-" till death us do part."
I promise you this, if my fortune it is
To thus be your help-meet for life :
For Love's own sweet sake, I'm determined Id make
A loving-, and dutiful wife I
POmP A^D VANITY.
" O wad some Pow'r the giftie gi'e us
To see oursel's as others see us ! " — Bunts.
In a northern county's proud old town.
That now to a thriving- port has grown,
There stands a beautiful house of prayer. —
The church of God. in its glory there ;
Wherein the worship of Him should be,
In i)rayer devout on the bended knee :
S/iimld be, alas! for the soul of man,
He has gone astray since the world began :
Fo most it is but a meeting place.
With scarce a thought for the Throne of Orace.
High on the roof of this church one day.
In coloured plumage, so brig-ht and gay;
Was seen a peacock, with outsj tread tail,
Like a stately shiji, with expanded sail '
246 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE OATES.
It seemed to think that it cast a charm,
As it stood erect in the sunshine warm : —
Then strutted on in the fair sunlight,
That showed its gorgeous feathers bright.
It lool^ed imperious, flaunting there,
With its head held high with the proudest air :
And the bird looked down with an actual frown,
On the murky roofs of the good old town ; —
Surveyed the whole with disdainful eye, _
As it perched on the topmost ridge so high ;
Then walked about and its charms displayed.
The bird was having a church parade !
The folks looked up, and they all averred
It was the proudest, gaudiest bird !
To choose that spot before those below,
God's house of prayer ! for its pompous show ,-
•• Vain bird ! '' said they, " 'tis a great disgrace,.
To flaunt thyself on that sacred place ! "
*****
The scene is changed ; — it is Sabbath morn,
And on the breezes is softly borne.
The sound of bells, from that old church tower,.
To tell to all it is service hour.
Towards it now in their best array,
The goodly citizens wend their way ;
Behold ! there comes with a measured tread,
A host of men, in their coats of red,
Adorned with white ; — they are soldiers fine,
And form a long and imposing line;
Each wears his sword, and his high cockade,.
The /fien are having a church parade !
They move along, with their forms erect.
While all the ladies so grandly decked,
In costly, beautiful, new attire,
Those martial uniforms all admire.
They pass the portals, and enter there.
With solemn aspect, the house of prayer ;
When all are seated, in long straight rows,
Each one to God for a moment bows :
Then casts sly glances around them each.
And when the parson begins to preach,
RANDOM KUVMKS. 247
They Iry to listen, for they so prim,
Seem all attention, g-ood folk to him :
Hut all the time are their thouj^hts astra} .
And wander far from his words away !
The ladies glance at the soldiers there,
While the soldiers stare at the ladies fair:
As each one sits like a stately queen ;
The)' g'o to see, and in turn ^' seeti :
While each is conscious of how she looks.
rhc\' scan each other behind their books:
They join in singing-, and seem to pray,
All parrot-like, in a formal way ;
S(////t pray in earnest, but mos/, I fear
y\re hypocritical, insincere !
If truth be told of that brilliant host.
Twas of each other the\' thought the most :
And of themselves, and their garments fine,
'Twas fio/ of God, and of things divine.
The service ends, and they all file out,
But heaven has opened its waterspout ;
They dash along, but their clothes are drenched,
Their pomp and ardour is cjuickly cjuenched ;
Their lace hangs limp, and their feathers drop,
Their drabbled dresses the pavements mop ;
With smiles all gone, and with faces wry,
The\' gaze aloft at the weeping sky ;
The rain has ended their flaunting^ show.
Which all was vanity, now they know I
* o * * *
(Jh ! which sinned deepest now, man, or bird r
He censured it, as you all have heard;
But which was vainest ? I answer " man ! *"
Refute it now if your conscience can .'
And if you're needing a further proof.
The bird when perched on the old church loof,
And choosing it to the church-yard sod, .
Xot once pretended to worship God.
And though its feathers it there displayed,
'I'hey were its own, and by nature made :
Man's clothes were made from the lower herds.
While wings and feathers of poor slain birds.
248 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE OATES.
Adorned the ladies' new bonnets fine,
That ne'er were made by the Hand divine.
Man scorned the bird, but he needs to halt,
For he committed the greatest fault ;
Such mock religion /think profane,
'Tis only taking God's name in vain !
fl CVfllC'S OPH^IOI^ OF THE
? >
Behold ! the " new woman " is coming apace !
Athletic in figure, with resolute face ;
In rational dress, is she coming to stay?
With firmness of purpose she"s pushing her way.
Behold she has mounted her " bike" for a ride,
She's wearing her bloomers, and sitting astride!
Her limbs are unhampered with feminine skirts,
She loves her cravats, her coats, collars, and shirts.
If she and a male-friend are out for a round.
The one with the other we nearly confound !
The "new woman's" dress now has reached such a pitch,
'Tis difficult often, to tell which is which !
She leaves her home circle and feels no remorse,
She'd rather be riding her fast iron horse !
To spin on her cycle lor miles is her plan,
The "new woman '" beats from the field the "old man."
This up-to-date woman, with masculine airs.
Braves coarsest of jeers, and the rudest of stares ;
'Tis not her strong point to be ultra-refined.
The " new woman's " pride is the strength of her mind.
She stoops o'er her cycle though shoulders grow round.
Though oft she falls from it, and sprawls on the ground :
She works at it hard, all her strength to display,
Her feminine attributes losing each day.
RANDOM KHVMKS. 249
For modesty now is a virtue most rare,
Too forward and fast is tliis ama/on fair:
Machines do the work, that was woman's uf yore.
Invention has l)rouv,'ht this new bein-^'- to the fore.
She mana.Lies just to keep out of liie inns,
But visits her club when she g-oes on her spins:
She smokes ci^^-arettes, and talks slanj^" when she can,—
In manners and speech tries to be like a man.
She has several methods of showing- her charms,—
She sculls her own boat till she hardens her palms :
She rides with her brothers, the first in the chase,
She drives her own ponies, but this with more grace.
Gymnastics, and shootin;..r. ^"^1 cricket, she tries.
Hard work, if called i)lay, she but seldom denies:
in -aitcrs and '• knickers. " and breast-shield arrayed,
DefyinLT decorum, at iootball she's played !
If you would arouse her with words that will vex,
Just tell her she's one of the " weak softer sex;"
Then, if you're a man, ere the words are well said.
She'll retort that iv)//'/-, softer than s/ir -\n the /u-ddl
Look out ! wise youni,'" man of the old-fashioned school.
Beware ! or she'll certainly make you a fool :
The new woman's comini;- 1 nor will she turn back.
She'll over you ride, if you stand in her track !
THE SAfHE OH THE " NECU mAN,
The up-to-date "'male" the " new man '" shall bcdubbel.
By woman he likes to be pelted and snubbed :
He thinks it a favour to sit at her feet.
Make him but her slave, and his joy is complete.
She knows well the powers to her sex that belong-.
The key to his heart is the tip of her tongue :
She knows by that weapon what game she can kill.
He soon falls a victim, and oft 'gainst his will.
250 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
Man grows more effeminate each passing- liour.
As woman is wielding- her wonderful power ;
The first and the foremost she's striving to be,
He'll fall, when she gets to the top of the tree !
He's vain and conceited, and selfish as well,
The money he squanders, no mortal can tell ;
He's fond of excitement, whatever its cost, —
Must have some amusement, if not, he is lost !
He thinks the " new woman " his rival, for sure,
Her clever progression he yet must endure ;
She makes him more feeble and finicking grow,
He fears to her absolute rule he must bow.
But when he's in love, he's an object indeed,
He always will let his beloved take the lead ;
Delighted he is when she's holding the sway,
In g-reat thing-s and smiill, then she gets her own way-
She sees through him right to the core of his heart,
Her glance thrills with joy, or with pain makes it smart ;^^
In varying moods with his love she can play,
Her every caprice he will gladly obey.
She just knows the value of all her sweet smiles,
She reckons him u.p, with her womanly wiles ;
He's woman's inferior, feels he too oft,
He's proud to be called by her " silly,"' and " soft ! "
The budding'' " new man," ever grateful is he,
If she will permit him her escort to be ;
To render her homage whenever he can.
To pose as her servant, delights the " new man ! "
Though he all the while is the butt of her wit.
He deems he is honoured if him she will skit !
He even seems pleased when she laughs him to scorn,.
For love makes him simple, if so he's not born !
But whien he is married we pity him most,
When he of his freedom no longer can boast :
Meek, humble, and patient, he sits in the nook,
'While minding the baby, and trying to cook !
RANDO.M KIIVMKS. _' C 1
His wife, the " new woman.' she usurps the " lords,"
By mounting' the rostriini, and sittintr on " Roardij ; ''
At ni<-etinjj;s and lectures, and loncerts iind balls, ,"
Or "hiking"" and "shopping-," or paying- her calls.
It he shouhl revolt, would from serfdom be freed,
Most dearly he pays for his g-rievous misdeed ;
He's henpecked, belittled, far more than before,
And made such mean conduct to deeply deplore.
Poor hapless "new man,"' how 1 pity his state I
He long's to assert himself now, w hen too late ;
He needs to stand firm, nor his coura.ge let cool.
Or else we must call him a faint-hearted fool !
THE QUEER'S dUBlLiEE AT HORU-IOOD
GREEN.
OxK glorious week in lovely June
Was festive on the village green;
For young" and old turned out to keep
The Jubilee of our g-ood Oueen.
Said one old dame who forward came.
In Sunday garments drest ; —
■' Mun Norrad Green, to honour t' Queen
Is dooing" it little l)est."
She spoke the truth, for all around
Hung" flags and i-oloured streamers brig"ht
And music lent its cheering" charm,
To every one's intense delight ;
The young were gay, in fine array,
And danced with pride and zest :
True, Norwood Green for I'>ng"land's Queen.
Was doing" its little best.
The villag-e Queen drove past in state.
Beneath a sunshade large and g"ay:
Then pent-up loyal feeling" Imrst. —
For cheered she was ujion the way:
252 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
Sweet maids were there, both young- and fair,
Who many charms possest ;
All Norwood Green for Eng'land's Queen,
Was doing- its little best.
The women all had *• fragrant" tea,
"Twas " finely flavoured too," they said ;
And out upon the village green,
The tables were with good things spread :
Blue skies above smiled down in love,
Upon each joyous guest ; —
For N'orwood Green for England's Queen,
Was doing its little best.
And moving in the rustic crowd,
Some local " leading lights " there were :
To whom were due the thanks of all —
The main-spring of the whole affair : —
Each dame and maid they happy made,
And by their bounty blest ;
So Norwood Green for England's Queen,
Was doing- its little best.
With sports the time was passed away.
The children played their games in glee ;
And all unbound with one accord.
To celebrate the Jubilee :
"We"st niver see t' Queen's Jubilee
Ag^ean," they all confess'd;
So Norwood Green for our good Queen,
Has done its very best !
THJ^EE THINGS."
These sayings you perchance have heard
Rejjeated many a time;
Yet some may not, so here they are, —
I've put them into rhyme.
RANDOM KIIV.MKS. 25 J
•'Three thing's a woman should be like.
And yet unlike should be ; "
If you are curious now to know.
I'll mention all the three.
She should be like the townhall clot k,
Keep punctual time, 'tis clear:
And yet //;/// Xv that clock, for all
The town her voice to hear.
And then she should be like a snail.
Within her house should stay ;
Yet no/ like it, to carry all
Upon her back, we say.
Then she should like an echo be,
Speak but when spoken to :
Yet no/ like it, to aliuavs have.
The final word, 'tis true.
These sayings were in Grandma's daj'S,
And thinys were different then ;
Before the modern women came,
To stand beside the men.
BIiflCKPOOU'S ATTf^flCTlONS.
Cio look at its palaces. loft\' and splendid.
Whose domes u^litter briijht 'neath th(^' clear sunny sky :
The Muses find haunts in those beautiful temples.
.\nd lend them a charm that you cannot deny.
Then turn your eyes westward- what is there before you ?
.\. siyht that will charm in the highest deg^ree :
It fades not, it fails not, and wants no renewing
.\ whole wealth of glory — the wide open sea!
Go watch its broad billows come swirling and breaking,
And bearing the ozone so bracing and sweet :
They playfully flow up the steep to approach you.
.\nd creamy-white foam-flakes they tling at }our feet.
254 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
And when it is ebbing-, behold to its maroin
The wide stretch of sand is a playground so free;
The fine open beach has a host of attractions,
While yet in the distance there gleams the bright sea!
Go visit the drama in all its perfection,
Each artiste excels in a well-chosen role :
Go hearken the music in scenes operatic.
Which ravish the senses, and enters the soul :
So many resorts there are open around you,
And each worth a visit, you all will agree :
Go see them, and yet you'll be bound to acknowledge
The greatest attraction of all is the sea!
Go walk on the cliffs in the cool of the morning.
Inhale the fresh breeze as you tread the green turf:
Descend if you like, to the shingle below you,
Among the grey boulders all kissed by the surf:
You've heard the sweet music of art so enchanting,
But here you have Nature's wild melodies free :
Oh ! sweeter, and sadder, and deeper the spirit.
Of music that breathes in the waves of the sea !
Once look at the sea when the sun is declining.
One glance, and behold you're transfixed to the spot :
When seen in the height of its heavenly splendour,
A sunset at Blackpool is never forgot.
At night there bursts forth all the blue lights electric,
Enhancing the beauty of all things you'll see :
A guide to the homeward-bound steamboats, and making
Look lonely and grander the dark solemn sea.
Then there is the newest of power impelling.
With magical forces, the beautiful cars ;
And truly it seems, so the world is progressing,
The highroad of science is now without bars:
Here all the new methods of swift locomotion.
And latest sensations well tested can be ;
But what is most healthful and far more delightful,
And grandest of all is a sail on the sea.
KANUOM KIIYMKS. 255
■Go look at the two noble piers and extensions^
The elements I)ravily ihey seem to defy
Like Ajax of old ; and confront they as boldly
The Storm Kin.!^'", whene'er he descends from the sky;
Go tread the pier decks, if you love not the motion
Of sailing-, and yet o'er the ocean would be :
The essence of life and of health is around you,
So fresh and untainted, the Ijroath of the sea!
Go see the tall Tow'r, whence the view is deliofhtful.
The Riiif Wheel, the Gardens, where Pleasure is Oueen;
Thoug-h these may have rivals in places more inland,
'Tis rarely we know that their equals are seen ;
But not in the cities, not even for riches,
Is seen the one slight that fills thousands with glee :
The acme of splendour, there ever unrivalled—
The g-lorious view of the limitless sea !
AUHTIl
Au.NTiE, Mamma's maiden sister.
Always ready to attend
On Mamma, and to assist her,—
Always is the children's friend.
Auntie has a form so slender,
And has such a youthful face.
You would think Mamma the elder; —
Such in truth is not the case.
Loviny, kintl, and ever willinsf,
Helping' Mamma how to plan ;
Into youthful liearts instilling^
All the gfoodness that she can.
Was she ever soug^ht in marriage ? —
Ever asked to be a wife ?
Yes, and mig^ht have kept her carriag"e
But prefers a sing-le life.
Note, and you will soon discover
What a favourite Auntie is :
How the children dearly lo\e her —
Give to ber a good-nig-ht kiss.
256 POEMS BY CHARLOTTK OATKS.
In the morn when each one rises.
How she loves to give them joy ! —
Have for them some giad surprises,
In some pretty longed-for toy.
Good, devoted Auntie, ever
Pleases with some new device ;
At her needlework so clever,
Always making" something- nice.
Daily are the children crying —
"Auntie " this, and "Auntie" that:
Is she weary of replying ?
No, she loves to join their chat.
What if someone yet should claim her }
Useful Auntie, alway near:
Should she marry, could we blame her?
If we knew he held her dear.
Think how Auntie, good and cheerful,
Would be prized if g'oing- away ;
We should see the children tearful, —
Hear them crying", '-Auntie, stay I "
THH CU|M|4l|SiG mousE.
A Soxo roR Children.
Whkn all in the house are in bed and asleep.
A little g-rey mouse from a corner does creep ;
It slily peeps 'round with its little black eyes,
Until a few crumbs on the floor it espies :
It cautiously, noiselessly, giides from its nook,
Then round the whole parlour it takes a g-ood look ;
It g-reedily clears up the crumbs of white bread,
Excepting two morsels with jjoison besi)read !
■It nibbles and scatters.
It fritters and shatters.
Contriving" and clever.
Yet caug-ht it is never,
This little g-rey mouse is the pest of the house !
RANDOM RHVMKS. J57
It runs in and out 'mong- the tables and chairs.
And then makes its way to the foot of the stairs ;
Then does what next day will make everyone cross.
It gnaws the stairs carpet, and piles up the floss;
And oft it stands up on its little hind feet.
And works with a will ere it dei.L,'-ns to retreat ;
P'or what do you think does this cunning- mouse do,
P.ut fritters the carpet completely in two!
It nii)hles and scatters, &c.
I'or many a nig:ht does this mousie go there,
And patiently gnaws at the step that is bare ;
It crumbles the wood with its little sharp teeth,
As if it would see what there is underneath :
Wtien weary of wood, then some paper it finds.
To hastily tear it to friigments it minds;
And carries the pieces to where it likes best,
Ot them and the floss then it makes a warm nest '.
It nibbles and scatters, &c.
In vain they set traps which have baits of nice cheese.
These from the cu/sidi- mousie eats at its ease ;
A vessel of water is placed for it soon.
Upon whose flat edge is a meal-spread old spoon.
Which, being nicely balanced, they wisely intend
The mouse shall tilt over on reaching the end ;
It gravely sits up, gives the spoon a good stare.
Then shaking its head, thinks " I must not tread there!"
It nibljles and scatters, etc.
Each one in the house, from the master to Bess,
Were beaten by mousie, they had to confess ;
Though "ticing its baits, it was "wise in its day,"
Not once to temptation did mousie give way.
Now see ye the moral ? compare if you will,
A man to a mouse, and a truth you distil ;
Man falls into traps ere he well is aware.
Thus weaker he is than a mouse, I declare I
It nibbles and scatters, &.c.
Now just one more word, for Im not going- to preach.
But surely this mousie a lesson might teach ;
Of prudence and caution, to each of us here,
To heed not the tempters, whatever their si^here; —
258 I'UK-MS BY CHAKLOTTK GATES.
Resist every snare that is placed as a test
To prove which of us is the wisest and best :
Be not beaten twice, by a mouse, or you'll rue ;
Then keep from the traps that are waitini>- for you.
In every-day matters,
The tempter oft scatters,
Traps cunning- and clever,
Yet caught be not ever.
Do more than a mouse, be the pride of ^•our house I
fl Gf^AflDFATHEf^'S ADVICE.
Judge not from folks" iippearances,
It does not always do ;
A man may look so poor, and yet
Be just as g-ood as you.
What matters if his clothes are patch'd.
And shabby is his hat } —
His manners too, be rough and plain, —
He's none the worse for that.
These's many an honest noble heart
Beneath a shabby \'est ;
And men who look so prim and smart.
Not always are the best.
For there have been the worst ot men.
Clad in the finest suits ;
And those who seem so kind, sometimes.
Have minds as low as brutes.
And there are awkward, bashful men,
Who have not good address.
Whose minds have noble thoughts, but lack
The power to express.
While some who have a liuent speech,
May have but meagre brains ;
Or use their tongues but to deceiv(\
For selfishness, or gains.
KANUO.AI RIIVMKS. 259
Some men may be but poorly clafl,
And yet have bags of .^olrl :
Some carry all upon their backs.
For others to behold.
Rirth, wealth, and education, place
Some men in hig-h command ;
But moral i^oodmss ougfht to take
The lead, o'er all the Land.
High iniellect, and gfenius too.
Should raise a man's estate ;
Rut moral goodness there should be
Ere he is truly g'reat.
And in whatever class 'tis found.
It lights the soul with grace ;
To it should others pay respect,
Whate'er their social place.
Combined with greatness, then we find
The highest beings on earth;
The sphere of life has naught to do
With true intrinsic worth.
Let men be rich, or poor, or dress'd
In rags, or golden lace ;
If honest, generous, good and true,
And free from aught that's base. —
."?
J'/iiV are the men whom }ou may trust,
Whate'er their rank may be ;
Where wealth and goodness are combined.
True gentlemen we see.
The one is like a polished gem,
Refined, and set with skill;
The other in its natural state,
Yet both are diamonds, .still.
26o
POK.MS BV CHARLOTTE GATES.
Then test a man to prove his worth,
Watch every word and look,
And read the index of his heart.
As you would read a book-
But judge not from appearances.
It does not always do ;
A man may look so poor and jet
Be just as good as you !
PROMISCUOUS I'IKCKS. 26I
FEt)Mis©0'D"n3 Fist;^s,
THE QUEEN'S dUBIUEE, 1887.
O g-lorious year I Wherein one golden clay
Stands out in l)Iushint,'- June amonjj^ the rest ;
The people rise one impulse to obey,
That our o-ood Sovereig-n's Jubilee be Idlest,
With works of love :
For five decades of honoured life have sped. —
Their lights and shadows crossed the changeful seen*'
Since first the Crown was placed upon her head, —
Began her rule, a fair young maiden Queen.
And from AI)0\e,
A hallowed light has fallen on the Throne,
Through all the years of good Victoria's reign :
Its halo widened 'round her as it shone.
And blessings brought her, and the courtier train.
In childhood sweet.
She those prophetic words spoke from her heart : —
" I will be good ! " And she has since fulfilled
That promise well ; nor stooped to once depart
From x'irtuous ways, with \\hi<-h Ikt life she willed.
Should be replete.
I'aths pure aud chaste are those she ever trod,
Here we the secret of her greatness see, —
Fxalted, yet she huml)ly bows to God.
Thus kneels before — though she a monarch be —
A higher Throne.
As maid, as wife, as mother, she has knelt ; —
As widow. Empress, and a Queen the while :
And she beloved, has made her influence felt
By all her subjects on this beaut(^ous Isle :
Nor here alone : —
262 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE DATES.
Revered she is by those across the sea;
Her Empire's dusky people own her worth ;
Ten thousand thousand join this Jubilee,
And as they love the Land that gave them birth,
Her name they hail.
A nobler head the Crown has never graced ;
And when we pray, that name is on our lips.
Whose lustre gilds the dreary ocean waste.
And sheds a glory on her gallant ships,
Where-e'er they sail.
Progression stamps this grand Victorian age, —
The Land has been prolific of great men : —
The Statesman, the Philosopher, the Sage,
Divine, Inventor, Knights of sword and pen, —
Each left his mark.
The labour-fruits of many a useful life,
We all enjoy to-day ; on every hand,
Conception and Construction have been rife.
Inventive genius dropped upon the Land.
Its mystic spark.
What other fifty years such wonders wrought,
in art and science, thro' the hand and brain ?
What fifty years so many changes brought .' —
O prosp'rous, glorious, and eventful reign I
And England's Queen,
A bright exemplar stands before the world :
Hath power for good through her dominions wide
And wheresoe'er her flag may be unfurled,
Our hearts exult with loyalty and pride : —
When-e'er 'tis seen.
They crowned her youth in flowery June, 'twas meet
They should, in that sweet month of promise true ;
When Nature dons its crown, and thus we greet
The time to pay to her a tribute due
From every place.
The Nation lifts its voice in grateful praise.
This glorious reign 'twould fain perpetuate :
For those hereafter, monuments we raise,
To bear her name, and thus commemorate
This year of gr^ice.
I'ROMISCIOIS PIKCES. 26^
I he rfg-al splendours ul" her life we find,
Chase not a\va\' serenity ami peace;
Her Court reflects her own sweet tranquil mind.
And thus each passinj^' \ear doth liut increase
Her sovereijLTn sway.
Beside the cares and pomp of Throne and State,
The syni|)athies of a true woman move :
Which make the royal lad)' more than great.
And claim for her ileep universal love.
Without decay.
The g-Qod Prince Consort ot her early years
I las g"one. who would with us have blest her now
With son and daughter sleeps beyond all tears.
The glory-circle 'round each angel brow.
In yon bright Spot,
But hush the lyre, if once a mournful strain
Recalls those sorrows in that noble breast,
So meekly borne, they sacred must remain,
P'or Time has kindly lulled those griefs to rest. —
Then wake them not.
May God beneath His shield let her re|)Ose, —
In peace permit her to adorn and light
These earthly realms, till called away to Those,
Where loved ones wait for her in raiment white
As glist'ning snow.
Her royal children's love around her clings,
And while she sits enthroned, endeared to all,
Sup|)ort unto that widowed heart it brings ;
^■\nd soothes her as life's evening shadows fall.
Upon her now.
Long may our good illuslrous (Jueen be here!
May guardian angels watch her palace door; —
Bring blessings rich and sweet her life to cheer :
Long may her hand the scei)tre hold before
She lays it down,
(iod make her happy, till He bringeth on
Her se( on<l coronation : when be sure,
'I'he crown she wears will be replaced by one
More beautiful, of crystal gems so pure,-
A Heavenlv crown !
264 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
But Father yet our gracious Ruler spare :
Thanks be to Thee, for through Thy wisdom 'tis
That one so good is o'er us ; we declare
The World a greater Jubilee than this
Has never seen.
She rules by love ; and ever by her side
Stands white-robed Honour ; thus all hearts rejoice
With one accord ; for hark ! afar and wide
Her people sing with loud exultant voice, —
"God Save the Oueen ! "'
YOUTH-
Live as you will, or where you will, or howe'er long you
may;
What though your life be strife or calm, or with the
grave or gay ;
The first score years the longest seem, and they are oft
the best ;
So varied are their incidents, far more than all the rest.
And oft old age the impress feels they left upon the
mind,
The dearest loves, the fondest hopes, to them are oft
confined.
Whate'er those early years may bring, though full of
woe or weal,
They set their seal on after years, their influence then we
feel.
They see the transit from the babe into the lisping child,
Who views the world from narrow bounds, and deems it
undefiled.
As are the pure and spotless snows upon the virgin
steeps ;
And grief comes not, but "home'" and "play" are all
the joys it seeks :
Its heart is light, no " cares of bread '" disturb the free
young mind ; —
Free as the bird upon the wing, light as the wandering
wind.
PROMISCUOUS PIECES. 265
Blest is that happy trustful time, so full of ;,^uileless joy,
When all its pleasure centres in a little new-hought toy.
In those first twenty years of life where ( hildhood is
embraced,
Impressions which we then receive, are never once
effaced.
The careless <^\r], ihe heedless boy, their free and artless
ways :
Those recollections linger lon^'. and briyhten after days.
And oft the doing's of early youth, the very place, and
scene,
Comes to the mind as age creeps on, though most is lost
between.
And next it sees the youth and maid, that sweet romantic
time.
When all seems bright, and every sound rings like a
merry chime.
'Tis then the time that "love's young dream" makes
life begin to glow ; —
The first, the sweetest, purest love, the heart can ever
know !
When fancy jiaints in roseate shades, they deem it l)ut
their due ;
Nor think the lovely tints will die, and leave a steel-grey
hue.
Oh! buoyant youth, full soon in life the glowing colours
fade ;
'Tis meet that years mature must wear a sombre sterner
shade ;
And like our English northern skies, the neutral tints
prevail : —
And when a brilliant red is seen, it but portends a gale.
But what must be the youth of those who reareil in sin
and shame,
Lack innocence, and childhood sweet, is but a mocking
name .••
To whom the dear words "home" and "love" are l)ut an
idle sound :
Oh I would that fewer wretched ones like unto these
were found !
For such as these, we pray to (iod that in the coming'
years.
266 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
They rescued be from that black net, which now their
youth ensnares.
Sad too for those who in their youth feel stern Mis-
fortune's frown ; —
When grief the tender blossoms blight, and bows the.
spirit down :
For such as these we can but hope their fortunes be
reversed ; —
That ere they reach the noontide's prime, the mists be
all dispersed : — ■
The sun break through the chastening" gloom, and shed
a genial ray :
Which, tempered by a soothing wind, may chase the
clouds away.
For oft the wild and stormy days will set in bright repose;
As those that have a sunrise clear, sometimes in gloom
will close.
Oh ! if this precious time be yours, enjoy it while you
may ;
But let Discretion hold the reins, and Reason lead the
way : — •
They'll guide you into paths of jo}-, apart from those oi
sin,
To which one f^dse step from the right, a draught may
draw you in.
And though a thousand luring lights around your path
may flare ;
Be not like moths, and headlong fly into the deadly
glare.
Where'er those twenty years are passed, in mansion or
in cot ;
Whate'er our grade, 'tis all the same, they cannot be
forgot.
What in those golden days we sow, in after years we
reap ;
Youth : wake the good, condemn the bad into a lasting
sleep !
Howe'er this early time is spent, 'tis one recurring theme,
On which is based in after )ears, full oft some vivid
dream.
Reflections on those twenty years, though well or badly
spent ;
PKOJUicLuLi. PIKCES. 26?
Will in proportion bring- us peace, or pain and discontent.
VVhateer those twenty years have been. thouLrh happvor
opprest ;
(iod grant that naught enacted then, may mar a-e
twilight's rest I
Be happy in your youth and health, return Mirths pla\-
ful nod;
^ et in the midst of blessings sweet, be mindful ol \()ur
God.
Bri^THtDAY LilJ^ES, TO AJM ABSENT
FRIE|SID.
U.N this thy birthtUi}- would that I could greet
Thine ear with what my heart desires for thee :
I have no g-ifts to lay before thy feet,
Such would 1)6 thine wert thou but near to me.
These lines at least will unto thee convey
My wishes for thy welfare, oh, my friend ;
More bright and blest return each natal day.
Peace, Love, and Hope, be with thee to the end.
I see thee now as if thou still wert near, —
Thy voice is hither borne upon the wind ;
And in its whisp'rings faint I seem to hear
The .sweet responses of a thoughtful mind.
Long days be thine, and where-so-e'er we be.
I will not thee from memory's tal)let blot:
Oh. would that thou shouldst think good friend of me
< >n this thy birthday, though I meet thee not.
How soon 'tis here again 1 years will revolve.
Each passing date for some one bears a mark :
Each opening year we make some new resolvr.
To help to guide us through its shadows dark.
Hut when these milestones on our way are passed.
Which "mind us all how we are marching" on :
Our noblest jilans alas I dissolve too fast. —
The days go by. the good is left un<lon«'.
268 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
Fair rosy visions we but see in youth,
The while we mount the hill ag^low with hope ;
The summit gained, we see the wholesome truth,
^'outh's fancies fade when we descend the slope.
Unsatisfied, do we not sometimes crave
A hig-her, fuller, nobler life while here ?
In narrow limits fettered, and the g"rave
Rut frees the soul to seek a better Sphere.
Look but at daily life, what trivial thing's
Warp our existence ; it consists of nought
But shreds and patches, yet on noiseless wings
The soul soars high with every purer thought.
And does not life, when all is done and said.
Resemble patchwork .? shades of dark and light ?
Drawn close together with a silken thread, —
Form one grand whole, if they are placed aright.
A lovely piece of work some are when done.
Some intermingle every varied hue ;
Some far too dark, of sombre l^rown or dun,
Some well designed, in colours chaste and true.
Blest is the mortal with aspiring soul,
Who yet to smallest duties bends the heart
■Contentedly ; they both exert control,
Till they enlarge this life, — each doing its part.
Contented, should we go our daily round,
To know the joy that faithful duty reaps ;
True happiness, it ever will be found,
Upon the bosom of Contentment sleeps.
Then these attend thee, through each passing hour.
Till life enriches, as the time speeds by ; —
Attains the sweetness of the God-made llower.
While it fulfils a purpose pure and high.
I leave in the care, whate'er betide, —
As through the maze of life thy footsteps roam, —
Of One who is the weary pilgrim's guide.
And who at last will lead thee safely Home.
I'KO.MISCUOIS I'IKCKS. 2^
mv moTHEF^.
Who watched me from my earliest year.
Oh, with such lovinpf, tencler care.
And would my little troubles share ? —
My Mother.
Who was it that so oft caressed —
Hushed me to sleep upon her breast, —
Whose voice hath lulled me oft to rest, —
M}' Mother.
Who taug^ht my infant lips to speak.
And kissed my little rosy cheek,
And spoke in patient words so meek.-* —
My Mother.
Who would my every sorrow soothe :
Who guided all my early youth,
And led me in the path df truth .■' —
My Mother.
Who taug-ht me then to say my prayers.
'Ihe comfort of these after years ;
Who ^entl\- dried away my tears .^ —
My Mother.
Who when I was a little i^irl,
Cast o'er my life a loving spell,
Tts influence now I feel so well.
My Mother.
What tho' since then long- years have fled.
Who tucks me in my little bed,
And breathes a blessing" o'er m}- head .' —
My Mother.
Who g^ives me still a '* g"ood-night kiss,'
And then I g^o to sleep in bliss,
I feel so happy after this, —
Mv Mother.
J270 POKMS in CUAKLOTTK UATKS.
What th(y' I am a maiden now,
Who g-ently soothes my aching brow.
And gives me counsel, sweet and low^ —
My Mother,
Who comforts yet my youthful days,
In countless little winning ways.
And e\'er for my welfare pray.s —
My brother.
Since first I lay upon thy knee,
Oh. what do 1 not owe to thee,
For all that thou hast done for me,
Mv Mother.
I fear 1 never can re{)ay
Thy loving kindness day by (kiy :
But T will honour anfl obey,
My Mother.
Yes, i will try, and do my best.
To do the duties that are prest.
On me, till thou art called to rest.
My Mother.
Oh, miiyst thou long with me abide.
Through many a year, o"er every tide ;
Long mayst thou linger by my side.
My Mother.
In Heaven there waits a rich n-ward
For all thy years of toiling hard :
God o'er thy life is keeping guard,
Mv Mother.
OBSCURE HEiROism.
Encla.nu is proud of her soldic.-rs and sailors,.
Heroes alike on the land and the wave ;
Yet there are lives that must go unrecorded.
Women and men who arc dauntless and brave.
I'ROillSCUOUS PIKCES. 2"/ \
Heroes and heroines in the home circle.
Nursing" the sick ones, and helping" the poor;
Sisters of Mercy, \\\i\\ hearts true and tender.
Coming- like angels of love to the door.
Heroes and heroines, wearing no badg^es,
Pass by us daily when out in the street :
Living through ordeals, privations, or anguish.
Passed by unheeded as dust at our feet.
Not to the world do they trumpet their virtues,
Cietting no laurels, nor seeking renown ;
Prized but by those who are nearest and dearest,
Happy indeed if such heart-ties they own.
Gems of humanity, bearing no tokens-
Giving no signs of the valour within :
Living" uncared for, then dyings unhonoured.
Bearing their crosses that crowns they may win.
Martyrs to sickness on couches art- lying-,
Patienth' liearing some torturing pain ;
Waiting unmurmuring, till the good Father,
Calls them away, or restores them. again.
Living in hope of a blessed Hereafter,
Biding their time, and yet yearning to go :
< )ften the truth of the Scripture recalling —
••Those whom He loveth, He chasteneth" so.
How many hearts that are noble surround us.
Here in the Land of the true and the bold ;
Courage and fortitude wait for ig-nition,
Down in the hearts that seem dormant and cold.
Ready to die for the sake of a stranger,
Waiting the summons of peril or pain :
Uniform lives may not bring them to action,
Energies latent, unnoticed remain.
Sombre-clad ministers work for the Master —
Carry the Scriptures to places obscure ;
Into dark alleys, 'mong vice and corruption,
Only such know what they have to endure I —
272 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE OATES.
(joing" to the sorrowful homes of the dying-, —
Holding a light to dark souls in their woe, —
Going to the homes of the poor and dejected, —
Lifting the shadows where-ever they go. —
Preaching the Gospel to brothers and sisters,
Giving" them comfort whenever they can ; —
Risking their lives for the soul of another,
Nearest the angels in form of a man I
Beautiful lives grace the high and the lowly,
Many are gone ere we know their true worth ;
Oh ! but we know there is One will reward them.
What unto His are the glories of earth ?
THE ELtLiis mnmoi^iflii ciiock
TOmEF^.
A landmark fair salutes our eyes,
Uprising "gainst cerulean skies ;
What is this stately ornate pile
That o'er the landscape seems to smile ?
A g^rand Clock Tower ! not built in vain,
To celebrate the " Record Reign : '"
And to the memory of a man
Who lived upon the wisest plan : —
A village pedagogue, who tauirht
Within this school, and strengthened thought
By knowledge, which he did impart;
Thus gave the boys a better start
For life's stern battle; — trained them then
To all make wiser, better men.
This meet memorial now is seen
Of one who honoured Norwood Green
As being his birthplace ; all now take
This gift with thanks for his dear sake.
He showed us all what can be wrought
By temp'rance, thrift, and careful thought.
A truly self-made man was he
Who rose from lowlv birth to be.
I'RO.MISCLOIS I'lI'XKS. 273
An alrtueiit one, as uc have seen,
\ei ofentle, and of modest mien.
He set forth many a j^'olden rule,
In \outh, within this dear old school ;
Whose tower his honoured name now bears.
To keep it green through future years.
Then give three cheers for those who raised
This useful clock ! let them be praised
For their good gift. By it we see
That time is money; punctual be
Then to each duty, and this clock
Will not our goofl endeavours mock;
l''or it will teach us all alike,
To value time when it doth strike ;
To us each jiassing hour 'twill tell
To keep good time, and si:)end it well.
All honour to the family be
Who thus have marked th(> Jubilee ;
For all who are of wealth possest,
I'.nnobled are by doing their l)est
To those less favoured ; for we mind
That wealth must all be left behind
When we go hence ; 'tis understood
' Tis only blest in doing good
To others ; gold can ne'er be given
To pass the rich ones into Heaven !
V'/itr live and die the most content
Who of their surplus wealth have spent
To aid the poor; nor sought to hoard,
Who give thus, -'lend unto the Lord;"
All such with open generous hand
Will earn a place in His fair Land.
Then here's good health to F'ngland's Queen
And those who gave to Norwood Green
This handsome tower ! may all be blest,
With years of joy, ere called to rest.
^X£XK5/"
:74 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
PAI^T Ifi PEACE.
Oh ! pai t in peace with those 3'ou love,
You may not meet ^igain ;
In after years, when they are gone,
"Twill cost you hitter pain ; —
If you have dropped a careless word.
The time when last you met ;
'Twill fill your heart with keen remorse,
And foster vain regret.
For what avails our self-reproach ?
We cannot then recall, —
Repentance brings not back the words.
We let in anger fall.
Then part in love, with kindly words,
From those so near your heart.
For sweet will be the after-thought,
If thus in peace you part.
A gentle word will linger long,
And "tis the soonest said,
And in the avenues of time,
'Twill dwell when they are lied.
Oh, " let not then the .sun go down
Upon your wrath " at night ;
Their s]3irit mav be called away,
Before tht' morning's light.
.'\nd when too late vvc would recall
The heedless words that fell,
Unguarded from our lips, they haunt
Us like a funeral knell.
W^e cannot ask forgiveness, when
The loving heart is still ;
We cannot give them life again, —
It is the Milker's will.
PROMISCUOUS PIECKS. 275
And part in peace at early morn,
When only for the day ;
Perchance ere night-fall may grim Death
Snatch those you love away.
A friendly pressure of the hand,
A tender parting word, —
And fling a kind wish after them.
Heartfelt, what tho' not heard I
II those we love should first transgress,—
Against our hearts rebel,
Oh, let us not retaliate.
But hasty words repel.
In grief the richest gems are dark,
Tears dim their lustre bright :
When troubled waters wage within.
The day has lost its light.
For when the soul with grief is pent,
Then beauty has no charm,
I'mil the ruffled waters cease.
And wax subdued and calm.
Then let us part in peace at morn, —
In peace at eventide; —
With those we love, they never more
May linger by our side.
'Twill save us many pangs of grief.
Their love for us increase, —
Twill spread a halo round the soul,
To part in love and peace.
TO CnV FATHEt^ OH HIS SEVENTIETH
BIF^THDAY.
Now "three-score years and ten" have passed, above thy
honoured head ;
Alas! (iods promised life on earth to man for thee is
fled.
276 pop:m.s by charlotte oatks.
If I could hold the hand of Time, or once arrest decay,
I would for thee, but father mine, I cannot bid them stay.
'Tis not for me to leng-then years, or smooth one time-
wrought line ;
That mystic power lies within a higher Hand than mine.
The wish, the fervent wish, is there, but human strength
is frail :
It makes me sad, as day by day, 1 watch thee slowly fail ;
The feebler step, the dimmer eye, the locks as white as
snow ; — •
All plainly show life's tranquil e\e is stealing- o'er thee
now.
Yet still the mind's sweet afterglow l)eams from those
kindly ej'es.
Awhile we revel in its light, before the s])lendour dies;
And twilight shadows g^lther 'round, for that approaching
night,
When thou wilt sleep, and wake at dawn in everlasting
light !
How soon a lifetime runs its course, a few short years at
mo'-t ;
Or more, or less, of life on earth, can now be thine to
boast.
A backward glance with mental eye ujjon thy past career,
Enwreathes with smiles thy saxon face, thy thoughts
must bring thee ciieer.
And yet I see a glist'ning tear come trembling from thine
eye;
Who can review the past with smiles, unniingled with a
sigh?
For who has reached thy honoured age, and tasted
naught but joy ?
Our jjortion ne'er is happiness while hin\' without alloy;
'J"he rainy days will come among, and they are sent
'twould seem.
To iTiake the sunny ones to us. by contrast biighter
gleam.
And as the years glide swiftly by, we prize them more
and more ;
The solace 'tis of age to di-aw from ISlenu)r)'s treasured
store.
I'ROMISClOrS IMKCKS. 277
The jKist is sure, the future va.Cfue. known nvi lu sl-li- or
sao-e ;
The interest in this life grows less, with fast advancinj^
age.
When not revertini,^ to the past, the mind is hxed afar.
Upon that fuller life in store for us across the bar.
Thy face to-nig-ht reflects thy life, with all its past
decades ;
I see it rip])ling in thy eye, with all its lig-hts and shades.
My first remembered happy hours were spent I know
with thee ;
I marvel how thy mind unbent to join my baby g-lee :
And how unseliish was thy 'toil, in those long--vanished
years,
When I a careless prattling" child, knew not thy daily
cares.
And now when I at last hiive g-rown to fully know thy
worth.
Behold I 1 hnd thy term expired, thou'rt ri|)e to leave
this earth.
The fruit while ling-ering in the husk each day will riper
g:row ;
The _g"rain assumes a deeper gold, before we lay it low.
Each day thy spirit mellows in the sunshine of our love ;
Refoi e it joins the g"Ood, the blest, the beautiful. Above.
Thy few remaining- )ears of life, are left forme, thyihild.
To recompense thee for that love which on my youth has
smiled.
And after now, the years to come, which may to thee be
g-iven.
Thou wilt be living- "over time," by kind indulg-ent
Heaven.
Ere long- the ''pearly g-ates " on High will be uncloseil
for thee ;
Then all thi' glory there beyond revealed to thee will b--.
The Maker knows when thou shalt g-o, the very time and
spot ;
Yet it has wisely been ordained, that we shall know it
not : —
By One who holds the universe v.ithin His hallow ed Hand,
The centuries would cease to roll, if He but gave
commantl !
278 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
'Tis well, and yet I pray that long- to us He thee will
•>^|spare; ., , ,.
I tremble as I picture home when thou wilt not be here, —
Our little circle incomplete, a link lost from the chain :
Yet this is selfish, for I know, our loss will be thy gain.
May blessings fall upon thy head, while yet above the
sod ;
And light divine, upon thee shine, until thou meetest Ood.
fl f^USTlC BEAUTY.
I've seen a bonny maid to-day,
As strangers we have met;
Yet that expressive face of hers,
I never can forget.
She seemed so like a sweet wild flower
That out of place was born.
And growing by the dusty path,
Neglected and forlorn.
Unvalued it was rudely passed,
And trampled 'neath the feet ;
Unrared for, still it reared its head
To waste its fragrance sweet.
A rustic beauty, unrefined,
Rut sweet and tresh to see ;
A maid unconscious of her charms.
As simple flower could be.
That fascinating face of hers,
I seem to see it still ;
I try to cast it from my mind —
It comes against my will.
I read her eyes— those sweet dark orbs
To me betrayed her mind;
And traits incongruous were there,
Which nature had combined.
I'ROMISCl'OrS PIKCKS. 279
And from those tell-tale, I)rig^ht brown eyes,
I'eyonfl her own control,
Which spoke of sa<lness, then oi mirth —
There shone a spotless soul !
A PbEA FOR THE mi^ERS-
^'ol• pray for those who sail the sea,
And all its jieriis dar;; ;
But there are those you mention not,
^'et need your daily i)rayer: —
As well deserxinLT fer\i'nt words,
To reach the Throne divine ;
Vou ask. me w hom ? I answer those,
In peril in the mine.
\'ou see them not, you mind them not,
Nor know their life l)elow ;
But think of them, when baskin;^' in
The firelight's ruddy g"low ;
For manly, Ijrave, undaunted hearts,
Toil in those dark confines :
"\'es. when you [iray, remember those
In p(>ril in the mines,
1 he blessing's of a warm coal-fire.
Have cost some precious lives, —
Have rent some hundred loving' hearts
Of mothers, and of wives 1
The collier works in Dan.iifer's gfrasp,
hrom morn, till day's decline;
hor daily bread, he briively dares
The peril of the mine.
W'l- Ijij4lish, Io\e the firelig-hl's u;Iance,
As 't were a livinL,'" thing':
I'or "round this "(iolcien Alilestone" oft
The fondest memories cling :
Then when upon the cheerful hearth.
With lo\ed ones you recline,
I'Orget not those who toil beni'ath,
1 n peril in the mine.
280 POKJIS BY CHAKLOriK OATKS.
Dov\n where no daylig-ht penetrates,
The deepest, darkest bore ;
In subterranean winding^s damp,
They there unearth the ore ;
No wreaths of g'lory, or romance,
With work like their's entwine ;
Yet honour to those honest men.
In peril in the mine.
For fathoms deep below the sod.
In weird oppressive g^loom ;
Has been for miners all too oft,
A mig"hty living- tomb !
Thoug-h Death in gha^-tly form be there,
They dread not his designs ;
Oh ! may God guard, and save all those,
In peril in the mines !
HOPE.
TiiKRE is a little cherul) near,
That hovers round thy brow;
Whose voice can banish many a tear,
With whispers sweet and low.
Oh ! may that ang-el ne'er dc^part.
But long- with thee abide ;
It comfort g-ives to many a heart.
When worn, and sad, and tried.
Its name is "Hope," and i( is young-,
It sing-eth oft to me ;
It ling-ers near with prattling tongue,
• And fills my heart with glee.
Then prize it, while it tarries yet,
To cheer thee on thy way ;
For guidance sweet we all may get.
While l)asking 'neath its ray.
I'KOMISflOlS I'IKCKS. 2Sl
When racked with sorrow, bowed with j^rief,
And Hope we thou.t,'"ht had lied ;
Oh ! what a joyful .ylad relicl.
To see it still ahead. —
And beck'nin^- with a radiant smile,
Like some brij^ht .<,dorious star ;
I''or us to follow it the while,
On paths of liijht afar.
THE mOTHHR'S PRAYER.
Bkhold a poor, but cleanly cot,
Whose windows fare the woodland ^len
One casts a light the whole ni-ht long", —
A beacon star to way-lost men :
Around it autumn winds blow cold.
And rack the trees by field and fold.
Within a lowly chamber dim.
A g-entle, pretty, fair-haired child,
Was ill and [)rostrate on her bed :
Her little heart all undefilerl.
Clung- to her mother, day and night,
Xor long- would trust her from her sight.
The mother sat beside the bed,
And watched her child with loving- care ;
None knew the anguish in her heart,
To see her darling lying there :
The young- life hanging- by a thread.
As fever tost the restless head.
That little wasted tender form.
Was more to her than worlds of gold ;
For oh 1 that mother's heart was tried,
W'ith other sorrows, all untold :
Her child was her one comfort sweet.
Without it, lile were incomplete.
282 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE OATES.
She watched with concentrated mind,
That ever comes with mother-love ;
Strong to endure, she bided there.
With strength direct from One Above :
Restrained her tears, she dared not weep.
And scarce would close her eyes in sleep ; —
With yearning soul strained every nerve,
To nurse her dear one back to life;
A twofold weight of grief she bore,
As mother, and as anxious wife ;
Her heart-wrung tears were dropt aside,
All signs of woe she fain would hide.
Oft in her midnight vigils lone,
While gazing on her sleeping child,
O'erflowed that purest thing on earth.
Maternal love, in visions wild ; —
'Tis all absorbing, and intense.
And seeks no earthly recompense.
She mused, desponding, in the gloom,
" Sweet child I miss thee at thy play.
No little footfall greets my ear,
Thy shoes and frocks are laid away ;
I centre all my joys in thee, •
More than my life thou art to me ! —
^'But oft I would too harshly chide
My little sufferer lying there ;
And oh ! I fear, my fragile child,
I have not tended thee with care ;
If God will only thee restore,
In future I will prize thee more."'
'Tis ever thus with human hearts ;
WHien those we love seem passing hence,
Remorse invades the troublecl breast.
And loudest speaks in our suspense : —
The grief-fraught mind when backward cast,
Will censure self in scenes long past.
I'ROMISCIOUS I'lECKS. 283
Upheld by faith, with cheerlul mipn.
In accents low she soothed her child ;
And when its violet eyes sou<^ht hers,
Into their wistful de[)ths she smiled :
And oft she knelt and blessed her there.
And l)reathed to Heaven a heartfelt praxcr.
She niunnured meekj\' " Oh ! my (iod,
Be i)leased to hear me when I jiray :
Brint^ back my precious child to health I
Oh I call her not from earth away !
Thou canst relieve all mortal pain,
Oh ! make my darlin,^;' well aj^ain.
"Kind friends are mine, sent throuj^'h Tin- love,
But what avails all mortal skill i
By sympathetic hearts sustained,
I wait with them, Thy holy will :
Thy li^racious aid I now implore,
Please (Iod my little one restore. —
■• Thou canst do auyht, then deig^n to hear,
And answer this my pleadin^,'' prayer ;
Oh, spare to me m}- only chdd 1
So pure of soul, so frail and fair :
I lo\e her more than tongue can tell.
Oh ! bless my child, and make her well !'
And e\'en as she rose there came.
Two (iod-sent angels trom Abo\e :
They poised unseen, but not unfelt,
For one was " Hope," and one was " Love I "
Their radiance filled her (luixerinsjf heart,
And j^ave her strength to bear her jjart.
Look uji. thou sore-tried mother then,
Thine is a sacred mission here ;
(iod will defend the soul opprest,
He notes a woman's heart-drawn tear;
Through tortuous paths His hand we trace,
•'Through sulTering- thou wilt see His face."
284 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE OATES.
'• Give me my dolly, mamma please : ''
Broke forth in child-tones, sweet and low :
That voice, been hushed for many a day.
Then set the mother's heart ag-low :
Responding with impassioned kiss.
She murmured, " Thank Thee Lord for this '.
The crisis past, she then and there,
Poured forth her soul in grateful prayer.
Tl^OUBliED HERt^TS.
How many hearts in sorrow,
Go through the walks of life,
Taking their burdens with them.
Into the scenes of strife. —
Doing their daily duties,
Going to their dreary task;
Giving their smiles to others,
Wearing a cheerful mask.
Deep in their hearts at daytime.
Hiding their grief from sight,
Locking it up at morning.
Setting it free at night.
Seeming the while to strangers.
Callous, and cold, and calm ;
Longing in truth for solace, —
Yearning for rest and balm.
Woe to the heart in sorrow,
Bearing it all alone ;
Never a friend to enter
In through its case of stone.
Woe to the soul beclouded,
Having no faith or creed ;
Never a prayer to offer,
When in the hour of need.
I'ROMISCIOUS PIECES. 285
RIest is the heart thou^^h troubled.
Finiliny" a j^lad relief;
Into a kind friend's bosom,
Pouring- its w eiyfht of grief.
lilest is the true believer,
Whatever he has to bear;
Seek.in.<4- and findinjjf comlort
Of God, throu;^'-h a heartfelt prayer.
C00Df4ESS BRINGS ITS OUlfA
f^EUJAl^D."
As with weary feet we traverse
Throu^,di life's steep and thorny ways,
With few earth])' joys to .i^reet us
And illume the sunless days ;
Thoufi^h temptations may beset us,
Thoug-h the road be rough and hard ;
Let us ever this remember —
Goodness brin'-'s its own reward.
"O"
Wending' through the narrow pathway.
Keeping' always to the right; —
Looking forward to the distance.
Where there gleams the guidinj^ light
K\"er let these words be with us.
Never truer sung- a bard,
In vvhavever field of duty —
Goodness brings its own reward.
■e<'
Striving' after g^ood will bring- us
l^lessings, whatsoe'er betitle ;
And through every sad misfortune
One will be our stay and g'uide ;
If we only love and trust Him,
And all evil things discard ;
Knowing' lie has ordered wisely, —
Goodness bring's its own rewar<l.
286 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE OATKS.
Though we may have our oppressors,
Darkeninj^- all our duteous days,
And for patience and forbearance.
Never get one meed of pr^iise :
Yet will conscience deep within us.
Quickly tell us when 'tis marred ;
So it comforts when 'tis clearest —
Goodness brings its own reward.
Know we this, that right must con(]uer,
Sin but leads to shame and pain ;
If from rectitude diverging-
Halt at once, and try again :
Ask for strength, that light may enter
And our wandering steps retard ;
Be assured we shall be answered —
Goodness brings its own reward.
May we watch our words and actions,
Careless ones too oft are rued ;
And the world, so prone to evil.
Trifling faults has misconstrued : —
Magnified them, and condemned us,
May we then our conduct g'uard ;
Holding as a true conviction —
Goodness brings its own reward.
Though our lives be dull and joyless.
In a narrow humble sphere.
Lonely, with frail hopes to cherish,
And few loving hearts to cheer ; —
Yet if we but do our duty.
And our Father's laws regard.
He will surely recompense us —
Goodness brings its own reward.
It will not be long in coming,
Know you that in each good deed.
Full reward lies in the do/iii^,
Steps are they which Heavenward lead.
Then when we have ceased life's labour,
And are laid beneath the sward,
Then our souls in Heiiven will realize,
Goodness brings its own reward.
( c
TKOMISCUOUS PIECES. 287
I HEAPED THEE SI^C,
I iiKAKi) thee sinji'; thy voice fell on my ear
Sweet as the syren's, ocean's caves forsaken ;
Till mem'ries, which had slumbered, soon were waken.
Loved forms came near.
Those 'witching- strains on themes I love, for me
Had iiW the sweetness that to earth is given;
Oh ! music so enchanting, must of Heaven
A foretaste be !
1 listened, still enthralled, and felt thy power,
Thy mellow voice was full of force and feeling ;
And with its pathos came a sadness stealin''-.
That charm-fraught hour.
The strangest sadness, which is born we know
Of deepest rapture; and withal so soothing:
The soul beneath its thraldom seemed removing
From things below.
My swelling- heart to one sweet touching sung
Was all responsive ; spell-bound as I listened.
One form supernal rose in robes thiit glistened,
l*"rom out a throng.
For hallowed niemories, which till then had slept,
Helore my vision jjussed in riuick succession;
O'er-strained the heart, and ere I found e.xpression.
Behold 1 wept !
1 saw an old man, with a time-touched brow,
A gloriole o'er his white hair was shining;
Tht^ dear arm-chair where he was last reclining.
All vacant now !
The menial mirage made by music sweet,
To me appeared, but lor a. moment only;—
The fireless grate, the hearthstone cold and lonely.
No voice to greet.
288 POEMS BY CllAKLOTTK OAXKS.
My father's spirit, seemed embodied there, —
Throug"h every tone of that sweet song" was sj^eaking".
Then face to face with him mine had been seels.ing',
I breathed a prayer.
r blest thee then, what though my tears rained fast;
Thy theme then chang"ed, and lo ! the vision faded ;
Thy thrilling- song", thy beauteous voice, had aided.
To wake the past.
Oh ! music, source of most intense delight.
And deep emotion ; while the soul uplifting-,
It lulls us, till we seem the nearer drifting",
To Realms of Lig"ht !
TO A LiflDY:
On Iicr Silvt'r Widdi/ig, and on her haviJig iJie neighbour-
hood of I hi' Authoress.
Oh ! genUe lady, 1 have known thee long",
And marked thy goodness through my youthful days,
Permit me then, to give to thee a song, —
A tribute, ere VvC g-o our separate ways.
What though of diflerent rank, and thou hast dwelt
In ancient hall, and I in lowly cot;
Yet thou hast made thy kindly presence felt ;
Thy woman's heart has brighter made the spot.
Round thy abode ; and though but rarely seen,
Yet have the poor oft felt thy offered hand :
Thy christian virtues through thy life serene.
Have been a guide unto the promised Land.
We fain would have thee near us, but since thou
Art going", amid the deej) regret of all ; —
We pray that One, may on thy head bestow
The choicest blessings that to mortals fall.
For five-and-twenty years of wedded life,
llave now been thine, in sweet retirement spent;
The mother's joy, the bliss of honoured wile.
Have with the summer of thy life been blent.
I'KOMISCIOIS I'IK.CKS. 28()
Yes, children blest thee, first the noble boy.
Was jj^ladly welcomed with a mother's pride ;
And then a daui^hter came to crown thy joy. —
Came when the May-flowers decked the country side.
And now has come the silver day at last, —
A gleaming- milepost on thy life's hi.q-hway :
Whence thou canst now review the happy past.
And backward look upon thy bridal day.
All nature seems attuned in concert sweet, —
in whisjx-rs tells that gladsome thou shouldst be ;
Thy bright home circle be to-day complete,
And loving- tokens find their way to thee.
To-day in all things seems a silver vein ; —
The silvery clouds so lightly sail along- ; —
in autumn woods, the robin's silvery strain.
Is mingled with the silvery streamlet's song'-.
The quaint old hall, thy home for many years.
Must be so dear as some familiar face; —
The scene of all thy youthful joys and cares.
Thy cherished memories cluster round the place.
Yet Sorrow came, and spread its sable wing,
And dropped its burden deep into thy breast ;
Awhile the birds have ceased for thee to sing-,
Thy spirit mourned for loved ones gone to rest.
But God sustained thee through each bitter g-rief,
P'or thou hast known the solace of a prayer ;
When thou hast soug-ht. He gave to thee relief,
And lighter made the yoke for thee to bear,
if I had but the power to make thee glad.
Beyond a simple offering such as this ;
O lady thou shouldst never once be sad.
But all thy future life be full of bliss.
And what is ever more than rank or wealth.
And when possest can ne'er be prized too well :-
The precious boons of happiness and health.
May these be thine, where-t'\er thou mayst dwell 1
Fresh joys await thee in thy futuri' home,
A lovely vista opens to thy view ;
The smiles of friends will chase away the gloom ;
And hope will lift thy heart to all things new.
290 POEMS BY CHARLOTTK GATES.
Farewell dear lady, may <^ood fortune shine,
On thee, and on thy faithful partner true;
And may ye through our Father's grace divine,
Be spared to see your Golden Wedding" too !
SABBATH DAY.
Sweet Day oT rest, we welcome thee,
The most of all the seven ;
When we can cast aside our cares,
And turn our thoughts to Heaven :
How sweet to breathe a thankful prayer,
And worship One we know is there.
Sweet Day, to those who labour hard
Throughout the weary week ;
And when they all have done their w ork,
At last their leisure seek :
And find when all the six are done,
That they can rest upon this One.
Oh ! Father teach Thy children all
To love this blessed Day ;
And hold it holy for Thy sake.
In all we do and say :
For Thou hast ordained for the best.
That we should have a day for rest.
Teach us to keep Thy laws divine.
And bring the wanderers back,
l^rom sin, and let them Homeward walk
Upon the righteous track : —
And Father, teach them how to pray,
And how to spend the .Sabl)ath Day.
<(
LaAlTl(4G.
Waitinc;, with the golden sunlight
Falling on his silvery hair;
While he peacefully reclineth
In his oaken, high-backed chair.
I'ROMISCLOl'S PIECES. 29I
\Vaitin<,'-, while his locks are glist'nin^^
In the rays that Heaven has sent;
In his features, now reposinj^,
Hope and fortitude are blent.
Work is over, he is weary ;
Long" he's laboured in the fiel<l:
He has sown, and reaped his harvest, —
Garner'd ail that life can yield.
Waiting there with resignation.
Sweet to see in one so old ;
Spending hours in looking backward,
|{asking in the beams of gold.
True it is that memory fails him—
Fails in daily trivial things,
Yet 'tis, in recalling bygones,
Faithful still, and comfort brings.
Age is full of retrospection,
Memories cheer it to the last —
Farly scenes that rise before it,
Gild the present with the past.
Tt has time for calm reflection.
Sweet delight in something done ;
While 'tis near the hallowed Gateway,
Leading to the Life to come.
Yet the soul will have its yearnings,
To be free and soar away ; —
Long to hear the welcome summons —
" Leave those prison walls of clay! '
Still it bides within its temple.
Though the walls are crumbling down,
List'ning for the angel's whisper —
Waiting for a crystal crown.
292 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
fl mOTHHH'S LiOVE.
What love is like a mothers love ?
What care is like to hers ?
When we are bowed with grief or pain.
Her heart with pity stirs :
A tender, deep, unselfish love,
We cannot prize too well,
That twines itself around the heart.
And nothing- can dispel.
Who can bestow such soothing care
As she alone can do,
And touch with such a gentle hand ?
None but a Mother true !
And from our childhood's early days
Her love and care we feel ;
Her influence, on our years mature,
Has left a lasting seal.
Oh ! children dear, you little know
Her fond devoted care :
Her hidden depth of love for you,
Attends you everywhere :
When you were little helpless babes,
She nursed you day by clay ;
The debt of gratitude since then,
You never can repay.
Oh, think of what you owe to her.
Reward her kindly heart.
For all that she has done for you.
Ere she and you must part.
Confide in her, and she will soothe
Your every passing grief ;
She'll softly kiss away your tears,
And make your sorrow brief.
Those blest with a good mother's love,
Possess a wealthy store ;
And ever as the years steal on.
Revere her more and more.
PROMISCLOt'S I'IKCKS. 293
A time will come, perchance ere long,
Wlic-n she must pass away ;
1 Icr sweet familiar voice be hushed ; —
'J'hen love her, while you may,
A Mother's love 1 tiie words convey
A volume in their sound ;
A treasure deep of untold worth,
By sacred feeling-s bound,
it dinars to us in adverse years,
Throu;.;h sunshine, shade, and strife ;
Her faithful, pure, and holy love,—
Forsakes us hut with life.
lil^^lES OH THE DEATH OF A
FAVOUl^ITE DOC.
1 low I loved thee, faithful Rover,
Who could help but hold thee dear .^
For thy every look and action.
Proved to me thou wert sincere.
Far more so, in real aflfection.
Than some shallow human hearts ;
Thus thy bri,2:ht and brief existence,
Lessons deej) to such imparts.
Noble, grateful, true, and loving-.
Such wert thou, while life was thine ;
Honest worth, with no dissembling.
Marked this canine friend of mine.
Master, mistress, all, have missed thee ;
Full of promise thou hast fled ;
lioy and maid, th}' daily playmates,
Wept to linil thi-ir fav'rite deiid.
Thou hast revelled in lh\ youth-time —
h'clt "how good it is to live : " —
M.ide the most of canine pleasures,
And thy love didst freely give.
Thou wert, as by intuition,
( )uick to know who liked thee best ;
294 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE OATES.
Fondly gave for it with interest,
Love that bore the truest test.
With thy natural keen perception,
Thou couldst always comprehend,
Marked by outward demonstration,
Who at heart was thy true friend.
Never more thy form will greet me,
How I miss thee at the door !
Eyes that beamed, and spoke thy feelings,
Now are closed for evermore.
Fare-thee-well, devoted creature.
Mortal could not bid thee stay ;
Oft 'tis thus, that things we cherish.
Are the first to pass away !
summnf^ TimE mmLi comE
AGfllH-"
Forward look, nor l)e downhearted,
Lift the shadows from your brow;
There are blue skies far above you,
Thoutrh the storm-clouds veil them now.
Know ye that the brightest sunshine
Ever follows after rain ?
Cheer up then, aud trust the future, —
Summer time will come ag'ain.
Dreary hours the white-robed Winter,
Brought ye in his withered hand,
Ere his icy ermine mantle, —
Disappeared from o'er the land.
Dull despair must never conc|uer,
Sad repinings are in vain ;
All distress will quickly vanish-
When the summer conies again.
Though the sea-birds now are flying
Low ui)on the white-ridged sea.
Soon with sunlight all its waters,
Will one wealth of glory be ;
I'KOMISCrOlS IMECES. 1*95
And the hitter cold north-easter,
Lon^' with us will not remain ;
Setter winds will soon caress us. —
Suninitr days will come agfain.
Look ahead, for in the distance,
Are the siKer shafts of li.uht
In the darkness now aj^pearin.LT.
Wait, and all will soon be brijjht.
I lark I what music is awakinj,''.
Breathing' hope in every strain ;
All i^ood fortune will attend you, —
When the summer comes again.
THE AGED.
Respkci and love the old an<l frail,
And honour thv'w u'rey hair :
h"or all, throughout their toiling li\es,
Have had enough to hear.
I'hen I hildren, kindly treat the old,
Ijet them he loved hy you ;
And guide their feeble trembling steps,
Ha\e patience with them too.
For some day you will he the same,
If (rod your lives should spare;
Your forms will stoop, your faces wear
The trace of grief and care.
Oh, (\o not laugh and jeer at them,
Because they are infirm :
Rut listen to their counsel wise.
And from their wisdom l(>arn.
Then try and make them happy here.
Turn not their words to scorn ;
They've known this world long \ ears before
The time when \ou were horn.
296 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
Oh, wound not then their careworn hearts,
But honour and revere.
The old, the feeble, and infirm,
They will not long be here.
And g-ently lead them by the hand,
Speak kindly to them now ;
And let your arms protect their forms, —
Support their steps so slow.
What thoug-h their brows be furrow"d now,
With lines of ag-e and care ;
Those wrinkles on their hollow cheeks
Have been not always there.
Remember that they once were young".
Though dim now is their sight :
Their brows were .once so white and smooth.
Their eyes were once so bright.
At most, they have not long to stay,
For life is short at best ;
Then cheer them on their lonely way,
Till they find peace and rest.
For who can look upon the aged,
Descending Life's rough hill ;
And feel not reverence and respect,
Through every fibre thrill ?
May God louk down and bless the old
In mercy and in love ;
Till He shall call them to Himself,
To dwell in Heaven above.
THE Pn^TlHC
Oa, Marion dearest, fare-thee-well,
Sweet idol of my heart ;
For now the dreaded hour has come.
When thou and I must part.
PROMISCldl S PIECES. 297
The tears are streaminjj;; from thine eyes,
They bathe thy cheeks so \vhit».' ;
But I must i;-o, amid thy sii^^hs.
CiOod-nig"ht beloved, — <^ood-nii4iit.
Bi'hoid I }'on full orb mount the sk)-,
So beautiful and clear;
But ere it sinks a^ain to rest,
I must away from here.
It grieves my heart, oh, .L;'entle maid,
Uur hai)i)iness to blight;
But one day we may be repaid, —
Good-night, beloved, — good-night.
My calling takes me far away
To win a golden name ;
To life's stern duties I must go,
To bring thee wealth and lame.
Though darkness falls around us now.
There yet will dawn a light;
1 will be true to thee I vow, —
Good-night, beloved, — good-night.
Whate'er in future may betide.
Where e'er my lot is cast ;
Through weal, or woe, my love for thee
Will linger to the last.
I turn to leave thi-e, full of hojie,
Life's battles 1 must fight.
With many hardshijis I must cope —
(iood-night beloved, — good-night.
Whatever be my future fate,
Where e'er my footsteps roam ;
How sweet w ill be the thought, that one
Will wait my coming home.
.\()w I must lea\c my heart's fond pride,
From thee I take my flight ;
I nmst not linger by thy side, —
Good-night beloved, — good-night.
Once more I kiss thy cheek so fair,
1 can no longer stay ;
298 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE OATES.
Once more I press thine hand in mine,
Before I turn away :
Oh ! send a kind wish after me,
When I am from thy sig-ht ;
And I will long- remember thee, —
Good-night beloved, — g-ood-night I
GUAl^DlflK A^^GEIiS.
Have you in the solemn midnight,
In the darkness, bent your ear ;
And have seemed to hear the silence —
Felt it as a presence near?
'Tis methinks the wings of angels.
Rustling near us in the room ;
Visions bright in sjjace around us.
Guard us, in the midnight gloom.
Unperceived, they hover o'er us.
Faithful watchers through the night ;
Till they at our Father's calling.
Vanish ere the dawn of light.
liIflES OH THE OPEfJlflG OF THE
FO^TH Bf^lDGE,
MARCH 4TH, 1890.
Hlrrau, true Britons! ye have made comi)lete
To-day, a grand memorial of our aee ;
And by this mighty structure ye have raised
Have shown to all the world that art at last
O'er Nature triumplis : Caledonia's sons
Have o'er her now a splendid victory gained ;
Nor was it won alas I without the loss
Of human lives. Those hardy Scottish men,
TKOMISCLUIS I'ltCKS. 299
Have perils darefl, which iiii;^'ht i)erhaps ha\(' scared
South-nurtured ones. For some poor j^-rievint,'" hearts.
Will \ie\v this work to inind them of their dead.
I hose sacritiei'S of the toiling" horde,
Will not he felt in ^fenerations hence;
When all have g"one who brid^ied the smilinif Forth :
And men and women yet unhorn will then
With pri(U- and veneration look on this
Fine noMe span; in wonderment exclaim —
'■ In those days men were <jiants, who conceived.
And carried out. a mi^'hty work sublime
And firm as this! '" Ah }es, the\- must possess
(ii.i^antic minds, whose idealistic plans,
drew from conception, more defined and clear,
I'ill they matured, and then assumed a form
More tangible, until by dint of time.
And perseverinj4' labour, they have grown
To these dimensions, 'neath man's sturdy hand 1
Ihroui^h all climatic chan.L^es he has wrouj^ht.
'Neath chilly skies, when beatinj^- blasts have swept
On every side: o'er swollen waters oft,
And broutiht his inborn couraj^e to the tore.
And now in all its mag'niiude it stands,
Its firm foundations fathoms deep are sunk
Within thos(^ waters, where the complex work
< )| vast proportions, now is mirror'd there.
The thundering engines with their i)ond'rous freights.
Will make its massive piers reverberate;
A thousand times the storms and winds may come,
/\nd rack its girders, it will stand the test I
Wealth, skill, and northern energy, combined
With native genius, are embodied there :
y\iul in its grandeur, man it seems has now
Himself surpassed ! For standing there he looks
But as a pigmy, to his hand's own work !
And while we gaze upon it, well we know
Thai those who reared its strong stupendous lorm,
Have done their country great anrl glorious good ;
And with it surely they have stamped our times
I'Or after ages ; — placed for us withal
A record bright on the historic page.
JOO POEMS BY CHARLOTTE GATES,
Forg-et not those who Ijuilt it ; and inscril^e
Some words of praise, to those who with their lives
Have paid their forfeit to the Bridge of Forth !
Just, was the royal mandate which conferred
Distinction on the leaders who survive ;
And we would ask that each henceforth should have
A badge of honour to adorn his breast!
mOf^flLi COU^fiGE.
" My Donald is so brave, Mother,
Oh, why may we not w-ed ?
For me he'd face the cannon's mouth,
Nor once the ordeal dread ;
Or dash into a seething sea,
Another's life to s^ive ;
His fine physique, his flashing eye,
Proclaim him strong and brave ! "
"He may. Child, be a hero strong-, —
Brave war thy love to win ;
And yet a moral coward be.
Weak, in resisting sin.
Brute courage, with brute strength, wc know
Performs herculean tasks ;
Temptation tests our moral strength, —
Our inner self unmasks.
If Donald be as good as brave.
Nor weakly yields to vice.
Then wed him. Dear, he truly is
A gem beyond all price ! "
PACES.
Whai a study are our faces,
Yet are they beyond control ?
Each one carries outward traces
Of the inward mind and soul.
PROMISCUOUS PIECES. 3O I
Every feature is a token
Of the life that we have led ;
And reveals what is unspoken —
Sig:ns that are by others read.
Seals are set upon the features,
To ourselves the most unknown ;
I'aces are impressive teachers. —
By our lives we mould our own.
We should sift ourselves, and cherish
All the jL;ood traits of the mind ;
Foster them, or they may perish, —
Leave the evil dreirs behind.
-&■
In our brows, our eyes, and noses,
E'en the cheeks, the lips, and chin :
Each of these in turn diseloses
All the strongest traits within ; —
Shows us if refitied, or cle\'er.
Intellectual, learned, and wise ;
Poets, and great musicians, never
Can their soul's wealth there disguise.
Faces are of thoughts the debtors.
Careful study tells us how
Men of science, men of letters.
Rear the impress on the brow.
Sages, Students, gospel preachers.
Men of culture, men of mind.
These have all a type of features,
Noble, beautiful, refined.
Eyes become the soul's rellection, —
Index to the mind w ithin ;
Some betray the heart's affection.
Through their di'ptlis the truth we win.
Some have faces full of gladness.
Fond of life, and fond of fun ;
Some, that speak of care and sadness,
Seem to wi^h that life was done.
302 POEMS BY CHARLOTTK GATES.
Those who are to •' drink'" addicted,
On the visag"e bear the trace :
Vice, we painly see depicted,
On a villain's tell-tale face.
Those who let vile passions lead them,
All betray it in their looks ;
Sin and folly, we can read them.
In their faces, — Nature's books.
Nature never once intended
To dissemble in the face ;
In the countenance is blended
Every failing, every grace.
May we g'ain, though 'tis but slowly.
Nobler minds as years do roll ;
Till a light shines, pure and holy,
Through the ''windows of the soul."
If you'd have a face of beauty.
Let your life be good and i;)ure ;
Doing to God and man our tluty,
Lends a charm that will endure.
To the virtuous, there is given
Beauty, e'en when youth is past ;
Till they see the gates of Heaven,
They are lovely to the last.
TO A FHlErlJ^ liEAVliMG EflGLiAHD.
Take my heart's best wishes with thee.
Far iiway across the main ;
God watch 'o'er thee, and protect thee.
Till He sends thee back again.
If it is thy wish to leave us,
We will let thee h^ive thy way ;
Selfish thoughts we may not foster, —
We will never bid thee stay.
PROMISCl'l^ I'IPXES. 303
Oilier hearts will clin^" around thee,
Newer ties will claim thy love ;
In the land of thy adoption,
M'en the skies will (■han,£,''c above I —
Northern stars will shine not o'er thee,
Others will upon thee smile:
Yet awake the chords of memory,
And forg-et us not the while.
1 i thy heart will let thee leave us,
Atid to us seem as one lost ;
We will seek not to retain thee,
Whatsoe'er our partinj,'" costs.
We but ask that thou wilt cherish
Thou.^hts of us, though thou mayst roam :
Love is deep, and ties are tender, —
Think sometimes of those at home !
Will one panj^- of sorrow cross thee,
Or remorse disturb thy mind,
When thou thinkest of the dear on^s,
Thou hast left in tears liehind ?
Yet I seidv not to approach thee,
Furthest be that thoug-ht from me :
Rather is my pity strong"est,
And affection true for thee.
Fare thee well ! may God l)e with thee,
On the sea, and on the land ;
May He scatter blessing^s o'er thee,
With His g-enerous guardian hand. —
Shield thee from the troul)led tempest- -
Smooth the path beneath thy teet; —
Let thy precious charge he near thee,
To afford thee comfort sweet.
Thou wilt see thine own dear countr\ ,
Fade in distance from thy sight ;
And the widening seas divide thee
1' rom our English cliffs so white ; —
See perchance, with misty vision.
Beating heart, and ([uivering lip ;
Then our parting wortls will haunt thee, —
" May God speed that gallant ship ! "
304 POIOIS BY CHARLOTTK OATES.
Bll^THt^AY Lil^lES TO mV flCED
mOTHEt^.
My darling" mother! in my filial love,
While daily feeling- thou dost g-row more dear ;
I call on thee a blessing" from Above,
And breathe a prayer that thou mayst long be here.
On this thy natal morning" I would g"ive,
To thee the wishes of thy child's fond heart ;
The fervent hope that thou for years mayst live,
In peace and love, ere we are called to part.
Long" may we revel in thy loving smile,
Which has the power to chase away all gloom ;
And may all good attend on thee the while,
Thy presence sheds a light within thy home.
My earnest wish for thee upon this morn.
Is that afflictions were not thine to bear ;
Such in the past thou hast so meekly borne,
Scarce with a murmur, or disheartening tear.
And oh ! I ask my God to make them less.
And if that may not be His holy will ;
To grant they may not deeper on thee press,
And give thee strength to meekly bear them still.
'Twill ever be my duty, Mother mine,
To tend thy wants, increasing t>very day ;
And to fulfil the slightest wish of thine.
My joy to cheer, and light thee on thy way.
I 'mind the time, when lying on thy breast,
I found my sweetest, surest, refuge there ;
And at thy knee before I sought my rest,
Thou taughtcst me to lisp my evening prayer.
Thy fostering care around my childhood threw,
A golden halo, iormed of love-rays bright ;
As flowers will grow bathed in the God-sent dew,
My life expanded, neath its sacred light.
PROMISCIOIS PIECES. 305
The loN-int,'" words that thou to me wouldst sa\-.
Are all enjjfravecl upon my memory yet;
And now at last, at thy declinin<^ day,
T tremble lest thy sun too soon should set.
A smaller circle daily is thy bound.
Thy life runs in an ever-narrowing groo\e :
And yet thy heart is close enfolded 'round
With priceless love, which time can ne"er remove.
Hut ever streng'thens with each passing" da}',
And shows a richness all before unknown ;
But deep as 'tis, it cannot once repay
The pure fond love whirh thnu to me hast shown.
(iod g-rant that it may long- be mine to feel
The greatest blessing sent us from the sky;
A mother's love ! for does it not reveal
A spring of joy. whose font is found on High ?
Blf^THDAY LUISH TO mV FATHER.
Fathkr dear upon this morn,
From my heart to thee is borne,
Loving wishes to adorn,
Thy natal day.
I would ask my God to shed.
Blessings on thy hoary head, —
Clear the path for thee to tread,
From ever}- thorn.
Every good and j)recious thing.
That the angels but can bring.
May they on thy i)athway fling.
And make it l)right I
Unto Heaven I humbly pray,
Long on earth to let thee stay.—
Call not yet thy soul awa\-.
To dwell with Him.
306 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
Like an oak-tree past its prime,
Crusted with the silvery rime,
In the restful winter time,
I see thee now.
Toil has long^ on thee been laid,
Ne'er I fear can be repaid.
Sacrifices thou hast made,
For me, thy child.
'Tis my wish oh I Feather dear.
To thy side be ever near,
There to solace and to cheer
Thy aged heart.
Thou hast bra\'ely in the past.
Weathered through life's every blast,
Now thine evening brings at last
Its rest and peace.
May it's tender glow so bright,
L'ke the summer's constant light,
Linger far into the night,
Before its fades.
HAPPY mnmof^iES.
Happy memories ! how they haunt us,
Sweetest moments lived and gone,
Rise before the mental vision,
Till the heart feels not alone.
Clothed in subtle forms of beauty,
Happy glimpses of the past,
Fill the soul with joys too fleeting —
Gkiddening gleams, too fair to last
And illumes the living present,
Till a spell is o'er us cast.
Hapi)y memories I oh, we love them-
Treasures of the long ago ;
But to see their sunny ])ictures,
Makes the be^iting heart to glow:
PROMISCUOUS PIECES. >07
While we revel in those vibions,
Memor)' brings like Hope, to cheer;
P.y its tender touch awakened
Are the thin^'-s we hold most dear ;
Pleasant faces beam around us,
Absent voices whisper near.
Memory throws up bridg^es g-olden —
Spans the interveninj^ time: —
Links the ])ast unto the present.
Chastened yet, and more sublime :
On the road, we since have traversed,
All that was i)rosaic is lost;
Ahjmory's i^ems, adorned by Fancy,
Only have the chasm crossed ;
Bring-ing- balm unto the spirit,
When with troubles tried and tost.
llapi)y memories! how they often —
As the actual jjast we see.
In a mirror bright, reflected, —
Thrill the heart, where'er we be :
Touch the sprin>:, and they will show us,
Moments all unknown to pain; —
Bring once more the sense of rapture,
As we li\'e them o'er again ;
P)rightest scenes will Hash before us,
In a vivid, golden train.
Happy memories! oh, we feel them.
Grow more precious day by day ;
pA'er sweeter, more consoling, —
Drops of nectar on our way;
Time but sen'es to make more mellow
Loving" memories true and fair.
And they come to us invested,
With a rosy colour rare ;
Memory but preserves the purest,
Those for which the heart must care,
F.ven will one strain of music.
Bring to us some vanished scene: —
Rouse to life some latent feeling" —
Place us where we once have been ;
308 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE OATES.
Through its power the old impressions,
There received, again we feel ;
And the past delights reviving,
Softly o'er the senses steal.
Music thus enables Memory-
All its secrets to reveal.
Sweet are those associations,
Oft it is some much-loved place,
Far away, that is remembered,
Or some dear familiar face :
Locked in Memory's laden storehouse,
There embalmed and laid at rest,
Are those thoughts, like priceless jewels,.
And when olcl, are loved the best :
Sent to solace and to cheer us,
Happy memories, always blest.
R PRlH OF LiOVEt^S.
With ardent gaze he scanned her face.
With health and beauty all aglow;
And watched her youthful form of grace.
Then spoke in thrilling- accents low. —
"Wilt thou be mine ? " he fondly said,
" For I have dearly loved thee long;
My constant thoughts of thee, have led
To pure affection, deep and strong.
" I wear thine image in my heart.
Thou art before me day and night;
And now I feel I cannot part
From thee, my guardiim angel bright.
"The more I see thee, more 1 feel
My heart towards its ideal warms ;
No other one shall ever steal
My love from all thy soft'ning charms.
PROMiscrors pifxks. 309
•There's l)eaut\- in thy i^'-olden hair,
And in those truthful azure eyes ;
'J'hou art so lovely, g^ood, and fair,
Like some sweet seraph in clisguise.
"I cannot tell thee half the love
That suryes here within my breast;
My adoration now to prove,
I ask that thou wilt make me blest,
•• By beinof my own ; oh 1 share my home,
Let thy dear presence cheer my lot !
I'll i)romise that in years to come,
Ky me thou shalt be ne'er forgot.
•• I know thy love is mine, I've seen
Its tokens in a hundred ways ;
Thou hast betrayed thyself, and been
The sunshine of my lonely days.
• I feel my offer well might be
By one less noble, turned to scorn ;
For one endowed with charms, like thee,
A higher i^lace would well adorn.
•• 1 shall be proud to call thee mine.
Thy beauty all the world will praise;
My wealth and fortune shall be thine.
To keep thee from laborious days.
■ Hien, darling-, be my loving wife !
That bliss may fill my future store;
I 11 shield thee Ironi aifills of life.
If thou'lt be mine for evermore ! "
Twas good, 'twas sweet, to hear him sjieak,
His tender words her heart could move;
With downcast eyes, with burning cheek,
She listened to his tale of love.
•• I doubt not \-our affection now,"
She softly whispered in his ear ;
*' 'Tis sweet to hear your fervid vow, —
To know that 1 have iirown so dear :
3IO POEMS BY CHARLOTTE OATES.
"But when m}' beauty shall depart,
And ag'e shall stamp me with decay ;
Shall I retain within your heart
The place I feel I hold to-day ?
" I fear you only worship youth,
And when its transient charms are past,
Your ardour then may cool, in truth
My image from your heart be cast."
"Nay, nay! " he cried, with burning- gfaze.
While passion trembled in his tone i
" Come weal, come woe, throug-h all my days
I'll love, and cling to thee alone 1
" Thy radiant beauty will not fade,
Nor lessen with the lapse of time;
For those endearing- charms were made
To last when life is past its prime.
" E'en age can ne'er our love-bonds break.
Thy heart on mine has deeper hold ;
I fain would die for thy de^lr sake,
For love like mine can ne'er grow cold ! "''
Thus she was won ; while there he knelt,
She g'a\ e to him her heart and hand ;
And on their nuptial day she felt,
The happiest lady in the land !
# * * * *
Years sped : a faded matron now
Whose beauty long since passed away;
Sits lonely, with a time-lined brow.
The locks that once were gold are grey.
Her ardent, trusted lover proved,
1^'alse, faithless, fickle, and untrue ;
Another's heart, alas ! he loved —
His early choice he lived to rue.
Too late the good fond wife was taught,
That fleeting passion's vows ne'er last ;
He but for youthful beauty sought, [past.
Then spurned her, when those charms were-
PKOiUSCLOLS I'lKCES. ^11
Remained she constant unto him,
Thouijfh all his love for her had flown :
Her fascinations ifonc, and ^rim
And cheerless had their home-life <,jfrown.
Shu bore fur him no chiirms of mind,
Thoug-h grown estranj^^'ed, she ne'er would
Her spirit broke, her health declined, [chide;
A poor neg'lected wife she died !
ANOTHER PAIF^.
" Yoc tell me oft that 1 am fair.
And say how much you love me now ;
You praise my gloss}' auburn hair,
And what }OU call my "classic "' brow.
" You tell me that my bright dark eyes.
Are love-lit when the}' glance at you :
And while you seek their depths, your sighs
Are like a lover's, warm and true.
" I know you deeply love me now,
That to each other we are dear;
Besides your oft repeated vow,
I see you're happy when I'm near.
" You now admire what oft you call
My graceful step, and sylph-like form ;
I see by every glance, that all
These outward things, your senses charm.
"My solt white hands, the roses pink.
That bloom upon my rounded cheek.
All please you now, but do you think
The reason is so far to seek i
" II is because I'm young, that now
You love these beauteous signs of health ;
They're all that 1 can boast, you know,
I'^or I possess no worldlx' wealth.
312 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
" But when my beauty fades away,
Oh ! M'ill you then my presence seek ?
When these brown tresses all are grey,
And when the rose forsakes my cheek ?
"A faithful love, that time will test,
Is what we women dearly prize ;
I fear my own I have confessed,
You've read it in my tell-tale eyes.
*' From you I've thought it was concealed,
Avowals ill become a maid ;
A glance my secret has revealed,
Or by a blush I've been betrayed.
" Stern time the ardent lover tries ;
When beauty dwells not in my face.
When dim shall grow these lustrous eyes,
And when my form shall lose its grace : —
" T/ien if you show you love me, when
I'm old, 'twill raptures bring to me ;
I shall believe you're earnest then.
Such love indeed would constant be !
" The mind, the heart, the soul, will all
Outlive the beauty born of youth ;
All these shall charm, and never pall,
If filled with goodness, love, and truth.
" If these attract you now, then stay,
And be my lover all through life;
Go ! if they charm you not, I say.
I'll ne'er consent to be your wife."
He said he'd love through woe or weal, —
Would aUl his fondest vows fulfil ;
Though years her youthful bloom might steal,
For her sweet self, he'd love her still.
A sacred promise, nobly kept ;
As time wore on he loved her more, —
Found virtues which in youth had slept,
Soul-beauties, all unprized before.
I'KU.MISCUOIS PIECES.
Their mutual I(i\e grew year by year.
The youthful flame was kept alive ;
I'ntil at three-score years they were
.■\s lo\inj^ as at twenty-five I
United were they, soul and heart, —
Shared all life's joys and sorrows were ;
Time's usag^e sei-ved but to impart,
A deeper, strong^er, love-bond there.
'J'hough silvered now her hair has grown,
Around her temples, once so white :
And what though youthful bloom has llown,
Her eyes retain for him their light.
Age bring-s her charms that will endure,
That compensate for those of youth :
That ripen but in years mature,
A sweetness born of faith ancl truth.
And now in lifi^'s blest eventide,
As earl)' da}s they oft recall ;
They nearer, dearer, side by side,
Wait calmly till the night shall fall.
THE PATP^ICIAH'S CUf^SE.
WiTMiN his old ancestral hall, one hallowed Christmas
night.
Where, though "twas cold and wild outside, the fires
l)urned warm and liright :
A jiroud j)atrician, tall and straight, in fierce defiance
stood.
In all the pom]) and boasted strength of rich and pur|)le
blottd.
Ills hands were clenched, his black brows scowled, o'er
dark and glittering eyes.
His attitude was one of scorn, that mocks while it defies,
A plebeian stood befori- him there, and criived his kind
reg'^ard.
And offered him his large brown hand, with palm so
rough and hard :
314 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE OATES.
He meekly asked that he might work for him, the noble
lord, —
That he would help him rise by toil among- his hirling-
horde.
And as a faith-pledge fain would greet the haughty
white-palmed sire,
When "peace on earth, g"ood-will to men," that day
should all inspire.
"Keep back, keep back!" the despot cried, " and get
thee hence instead,
I'll give thee work on my domains, wherewith to earn
thv bread.
But never let thy toil-stained hand, in contact be with
mine.
For if it does, my curse shall rest for aye on thee and
thine !
A plebeian drew my son from home; and led his footsteps-
wrong,—
Caused him to forfeit all the rights that to his birth
belong;
And when that ill-born villian plunged my home in deep
disgrace,
I vowed that hand of mine should ne'er touch him, nor
his low race ;
Then woe be to the one who dares defy my stern
command,
Nay, I would rather die than touch a finger of thy hand I
The servile wretch who breaks my kiw. that act shall he
deplore,
Thus rouse my wrath, I'll curse both thee and thine for
evermore ! "
A week passed by, the new year dawned upon a wintry
scene;
The snow-king with a spotless garb, enshrouded all the
green ; —
Transfigured with his wondrous wand, congealed the
limpid streams.
That lay like tinted glass beneath the red sun's slanting
beams.
PROMISCIOUS PIECES. 3I5
Ami in tlic lord's sequest'red park, the erstwhile
murmuring" nil.
Was voiceless as the sun-kissed lake, that slept so cold
and still ;
The tall ancestral trees were decked with pendent
cr>'stals bri<:,'-ht,
That ever and anon fell down ui)oii the sward so white.
The proud imperious lord went forth, in warmest furs
arrayed,
And down towards the lonely lake, his idle footsteps
strayed.
All nature slept in solitude, as if it ne'er could wake :
There was but one poor hirlinj^ there, who swept the
ice-bound lake : — -
Tht; one whom just a week ag'o, he had rebuked in
wrath,
And whom he now bade clear the snow from each
surroundin;^- ])ath.
The proud patrician soon had skates upon his noble
feet, —
Went skimming;; o'er the slumbrous lake, then was his.
joy complete I
He glided o'er its surface bright, for be it understood.
His lordship lo\ed the pastime well, that warmed his
frig-id blood.
A crack, a crash, and lo ! the treacherous ice began to
break.
A moment more, the autocrat was strugfgling'-in the lake !
Immersed oerhea 1, he raised a loud and frantic cry for
aid :
The potentate when safe so bold, in dang-er was afraid.
'I'hen for support he madly clutched the jagg'd ice o'er
his head.
It only broke, and left for him, a wider gap instead :
The cumbrous garment donned that day, to keep his
lordshij) warm.
Now only ser\cd to downward drag- the massive portly
form :
And as he loved secluded haunts, thus none were standing
by,
I o watch his battle fierce for life, or hear his desperate
cry:—
3l6 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE OATES.
None but the plebeian's ear had caught the mournful
gurgling" sound,
He hurried on toward the spot, despite the slippery-
ground.
'' Come fellow here," the rich one cried, " lend me thy
sturdy hand,
Assist me quickly, or I sink, oh ! pull me on to land."'
The poor man watched him in despair, his heart with
pity stirred.
He saw the pleading up-turned eyes, the hoarse appeal
he heard ;
He fain had seized the out-stretched hand, but of that
vow he thought ;
Not just on him, on all his kin, a curse would then be
brought.
He threw his neck-scarf, it was grasped, numb fingers
clenched it fast.
He pulled with all his might, but lo ! it broke in twain at
last;
^' Give me thy hand," came feebly then, " for I am sinking
now,"
" I dare not sire," the poor man cried, '' I fear thy wrath-
ful vow ; "
^'Good heavens! and does my vow now stand between
grim death and me .''
I perish if I may not cling this moment unto thee !
For mercy's .sake give me thy hand ! my rash words I
recall ;
When face to face with death, 1 find, that we are equals
all:
My limbs are stiffening fast, oh come ! my curse I now
revoke ;
Too late ! his face grew livid while with gasping voice
he spoke ;
For when the friendly plebeian hand reached out to him
at length,
It touched a numb and listless palm, that now had lo-st
its strength ;
A moment more, the drowning man had drawn his dying
breath.
The ghastly up-turned face had sunk in cold relentless
death 1
I'ROMISCL'OIS PIKCKS. 3 I
DHEAms.
Ye phantoms of thou<,'-ht that arise in the sleep,
In colours so vivid and Ijri^ht ;
The while the moon's ray Hoods the blue mountain
Enhancing,'- the beauty of night. [steep.
Ye visions of fancy, sometimes so obscure,
On Morpheus' wings ye are borne;
And often so flimsy ye cannot endure —
But fly at the dawn of the morn.
Sometimes ye are strangely unreal and absurd,
Grotes([ue are the pictures we see ;
Ye tell us of things that we never have heard, —
Show places where ne"er we shall be.
At times ye're so vivid and weird, that we think
A yawning abyss we are near.
So awful our clanger, we ([uail on its Jjrink,
Then wake, as if falling, in fear.
Then take ye the form of a lingering charm,
And haunt in the light of the day;
Impressions that soften, the senses will calm.
When Somnus has drifted away.
How often ye quiet and comfort the soul —
Transi')ort us to hai)pier scenes;
Ye flights of tlie vision, we cannot contrcjl
But yield to the spell of our dreams !
Oft-times we imagine the voices of friends
Are whispering close to the ear :
Things transient and lovely the god of ye sends^
Romantic-, compared with aught here.
Perchance may some vague unconnected idea
Come over our thoughts in the day —
Ideas, that no sooner conceived, than appear
To vanish as quickly away. -
3l8 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
We seem to have acted, or spoken, before,
(But cannot recall it to mind);
Such actions, or words, we're repeating" them o'er,
'Tis part of a dream undefined ; —
Been hid in the deepest recess of the brain,
And all but forgotten had been ;
An incident called them before us again,
We feel in a shadowy dream.
And oft the dear faces of those who are gone,
Appear in our slumbers so deep ;
AVe meet them in ecstasy — feel not alone.
But speak with them sweetly in sleep.
"Twould seem they descend from the Home of
Afford a significant theme ; [the Blesi —
And scenes of the past will assume in our rest,
The form of a beautiful dream !
And figures fantastic will lead us away,
In dark lonely depths of the night;
The freaks and the pranks that the vision will play.
That go with the first gleam of light.
The fairies seem waving their magical wands.
The}' mystic and intricate seem ;
Our spirits are roving to far aw^ay lands,
Oh ! such is the power of a dream.
TO A VOUflC IiflDY OJi H^H
TLUEflTY-FlJ^ST Blf^THDAY.
This morn from my heart I greet thee,
On reaching thy twenty-first year;
And heartily wish in the future,
Thou many may'st see, and as fair.
When Si)ring with a lovely diadem,
In the glorious month of May,
Stept forward to crown sweet Nature,
And liade her the sceptre sway ; —
PliOMISClOUS PIECKS. 3I9
Bedecked her with w reaths of Ijlossom,
Beyemmed with the diamond dew.
That Hashed with hi-r sli^jhtest motion,
Antl with c\ery breath she flrew. —
'Twas then that thy lovinj^ parents,
I''irst looked on their dark-eyed child;
As welcome as were the May flowers,
That bloomed in the din;y;"le wild.
Lonir summers since then have sflided.
And standing- thou art to-day.
At the door of the woman's e|)och,
Thy girlhood has passed away.
I see thee a merry maiden,
The pride of a happy home ;
Thy voire is the household music,
As gaily thy light steps roam.
Thou'rt now in thv life's rich Mavtime.
l^njoying its gilts so sweet ;
And treading a rosy pathway,
With beauty and mirth replete:
With garlands of love's own weaving,
To gladilen thy fresh young heart ;
And unto thy sweet girl-nature,
A grace of their own impart.
Now basking in life's britrht morning.
The w orld is to thee yet fair ;
But deem not 'tis made for pleasure,
I'nmingled with grief or care.
Thou seest not its sober aspects.
Oh ! prize it while youth is thine ;
So live it, that sweet blest memories.
May long through its evening sliine.
God shield thee from all temptations, —
From aught in the world defiled;
Give thanks that He long has lavished,
His blessings on thee, His child :
And use for His good, my dearest.
The gifts that are thine in trust ;
So give to thy name a lustre.
When beauty shall sleep in dust.
Give thoughts unto those less favoured, —
Whom fortune has ne'er caressed ;
320 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
The thankful and humble spirit,
Is ever the truly blest.
Live nobly, whate"er be thy portion,
In woman's re\'ered estnte :
As maiden, or wife, or mother,
Whatever thy destined fate.
By keeping- to lines of duty.
Wherever our lot is cast :
We win for oursehes that hearts-L'^lse,
That cheers us when youth is past.
It may be a minor cadence.
Vibrates through this niital song;
'Twill into the heart sink deeper,
And cling to the memory long.
When years shall ha\e brought rellection,
These words that seem worthless now;
To thee will have graver import.
When time shall ha\e stamped thy brow,
God bless thee, and guard thee always !
And may'st thou enjoy through Him,
A long and a happy life Dear,
That never a cloud mav dim !
Dejected.
To-nAY I am sad and dejected.
The beautiful sun will not shine ;
I feel that the sky has reflected
Its gloom in this I:)osom of mine.
The clouds are incessantly shifting,
In majesty moving away ;
Like icebergs they onward are drifting-,.
O'er skies that are sullen and grey.
I fear that ci storm is impending.
The sky is o'ershadowed again ;
Those ominous clouds are extending.
To pour out a deluge of rain.
PROMISCUOUS PIECES. ?21
Rv southerly winds they are driven, —
In volumes are sweeping" along";
While others are scattered and riven,
And silently gliding" among.
All nature seems hroodmg'" in sorrow,
So dreary, and downcast, and sad ;
And waiting a brighter to-morrow,
In hopes to be sunny and glad.
So sad, and oppressive, and dreary,
The heavens look down ujion me ;
My heart is so lonely and weary,
Sweet Muse, 1 am yearning for thee I
1 long for thy presence to cheer me.
Come down from the heights, on thy wing ;
I'm happy when thou art so near me.
To soothe me, and help me to sing.
My soul is beset with depression,
1 want to unburden my heart:
M}' thoughts cannot find their expression,
Why did'st thou so rashly depart .^
In solitude often I ponder ;
Come down from thy beautiful home;
And join me as lonely I wander.
Come hither, sweet comforter, come I
Descend through the portals of Heaven,
Come down in thy freedom so wild :
The gift that my Maker has given.
To comfort His poor humble child.
For oh ! I am sad and desponding.
All seemeth so formal and cold ;
I speak to a world unresponding,
And silent as yonder dark wold.
The sky seems to pity my feeling —
Have symjjathy with the oppressed ;
And night o'er the great world is stealing.
To lull me to slumlier and rest.
322 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
Hl^smn^EtD.
Jesus, in the hour of midnig'ht,
Shaking' with a dreadtul fear, —
Threatened with a sore bereavement.
Greater than my heart could bear, —
Yet amidst my bosom's angfuish,
F'elt I then that Thou wert near.--
There, to hearken my petition,
There, to aid and comfort me ;
Close beside me, as I pleaded
Humbly, on my bended knee :
There I, in my hour of trouble.
Sought and found relief in Thee !
Blessed Jesus ! Thou didst give it
Freely to this child of Thine ; —
Granted me direct from Heaven,
Mercies precious and divine; —
Caused within my darkened chamber.
Peace and hope again to shine.
Jesus, can I e'er forget Thee ? —
Soother of my midnight grief;
Jesus, when 1 called upon Thee,
Thou didst make my trouble brief; —
In my hour of tribulation,
Thou didst give my heart relief.
Jesus, never Thou forsake me.
Be Thou near me every day, —
Near to guide mc in my actions.
Near to light me on my way; —
Near to be my stay and comfort, —
Near to hear me when I pray. '
Jesus, what were I without Thee ?
Oh ! attend me everywhere ;
Love me, oh, my soul's Redeemer,
Keep me 'neath Thy watchful care ;
What were earth without Thy teachings,
\Vhat were life without a jirnyer!
I'ROMISCIOIS PIF.CES. 323
A SmVER UUEDDIHG GREETING.
The years have passed, and I greet you now
On the silver day of your wedded life,
But time has lovingly kissed the brow.
Of husband, and of wife.
Though years have sped, yet their only trace.
Are the silvery streaks in your plenteous hair ;
The rose still clings to the rounded face,
And (\ire sits lightly there.
Love made you happier with its light.
As hand in hand you have glided on ;
For softlv over your head its bright
Fair nimbus long has shone.
What silvery music around 1 hear!
I'he wedding bells, with a silvery ring ;
While friends with silvery voices clear.
Their silver ofterings bring.
One backward glance at a long: past day,
When bridal blossoms were strewn with zest ;
And loving hearts that were bright and gay,
Your future journey blest.
(lod blest it too, with a wealth of joy,
Flowers graced your pathway by His command.
But lest earth's pleasures unmixed should cloy,
He touched with chast'ning hand. —
For Death and Sorrow were not unknown, —
Their shadows fell on your sunny ways.
Whene'er our Father would claim His own.
In those sad bygone days.
Grief made a void in your youthful hearts.
God saw the chasm, and bridged it o'er :
Faith made you stronger to bear your parts,- -
With Hope, it can restore.
324 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE OATES.
The spring-tide's blossoms have passed away,
But now the fruits of your union blest,
Are growing- 'round you each passing- day,
Made richer by love's test.
Oh, happy pair! — for what untold joys
Unto their parents your off-spring brings, —
Fair blooming maidens, and noble boys.
Reward with love that cling-s.
They cherish their home of childhood yet, —
Are bound to it by affection's ties ;
Your tenderest care they will ne'er forget,
For such pure love ne'er dies.
Those dearest treasures be sure were sent,
To comfort you in life's evening" time ;
To cheer its shades when noon is spent.
Lead you, when past your prime.
The nuptial knot that was tied in youth.
Is now a sacred and silver bond,
Cemented closer by love and truth,
'Twill last this life beyond.
'Twill ever deepen, and richer grow.
Till in the future afar 'twill wear,
A holier, mellower, golden glow.
The path of age make fair.
You've reached life's summit, now in your prime.
Beside each other so true you're found ;
May you so live till the goldcfi time,
With every blessing crowned !
TO AH ApFLilCTED 0|^E.
Gentle sister, 'biding there.
Meek and patient, frail and fair;
Being aloof from active joys,
Thy pure spirit ne'er annoys.
PROMISCUOUS PIECKS. 325
Sore-afflictod, sad thy lot,
Yet we hear thee murmur not;
Bowing to God's chastening- hand.
Knowing 'tis Ijy His tommand.
That thy life should crippled be ;
Yet my heart goes out to thee
When I gaze upon thy face.
Where we can thy suffering trace.
Tended in thy restful bower,
Like a tender hot-house flower;
Growing lovlier day by day.
As earth's day-dreams melt away; —
As thy soul-bonds loosen now.
Peace sits radiant on thy brow.
Gently nurtured, loved of Heaven !
Compensations it has given ; —
Noblest souls we ofttimes find,
In frail structures are enshrined ;
Through its mortal cage thine glows.
Consentrated, richer grows.
Earth's vain longings touch it not,
Chastening for a brighter sjiot ; —
Basking in God's sheltering love.
Training for His crown Above.
music.
On ! the mystic power of music,
Thrilling ever)- nerve anfl vein ;
Makes us feel as though we're living
Through life's happiest hours again :
Every fibre is pulsating.
With its sweet strain I
'lis the soft'ning charm oi music,
Falling sweetly on the ear.
Lulling us as if in dreamland,
Bringing all our loved ones near: —
As the notes we hear vibrating.
So soft and clear.
326 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE OATES.
Ah, the hidden soul of music,
Thousands bow before its shrine ;
With its deep and tender pathos,
Who loves not the art divine ?
With old masters' inspirations,
What joy is mine !
Hear the thrilling- voice of music,
Wakingf memories of the past;
As the melodies come stealing-.
Low and sweeter at the last : —
Noble and sublime creations,
A spell have cast.
Hark ! the harmony of music,
Chords and grand vibrations made ;
What can touch the heart so tender
As sweet music, softly played ? —
With true sympathy revealing-
Each light and shade.
When the heart is sad and lonely.
Then we feel the greatest charm ;
As its melody so cheering.
Sheds a pleasant, soothing balm ;
Till we grow 'neath each cadenza,
Serene and calm.
Music is the soul's fine language.
Understood in every part ;
A medium, that when waken'd, makes its
Impress on smother's heart:
And beneath its influence often.
The tears will start.
Cultivate the gift of music,
It will brighten many an hour, —
-Cheer thee, when in deep depression,
Soothe thee, with its mystic power :
It can make the humblest cottage,
Like Orpheus' bower.
I'ROMISCUOLS PIECES. 327
Uh I J lo\c the charm of music,
Love it more than worrls can tell ;
All subdued I list' enraptured,
As the sweet tones float and swell : —
They hold me, and ni)- thoughts lift higher.
With magic spell.
BLiACK DlAmOrlDS.
i'v.Li. me not there are no heroes,
But those in battle's fierce array;
There are daring, manly fellows
At work, around us every day :
Clad albeit, in toil-stained garments,
What does outward vesture matter ?
Cannot hearts be just as noble,
Just as true, 'neath dirty tatter ?
Since the tender age of seven,
Some men have toiled in deepest mines:
Where there blows no breeze from heaven,
And where the bright sun never shines : —
Toiled till they're of stunted st^iture,
Bent and cramped as they are mining —
Form is sacrificed for labour,
^'et we hear them not repining.
Men and boys set forth at morning.
To work beneath the cold damp earth ;
b-ach a woman's son, or husband.
And is to her of priceless worth :
Bold, and fearless of all danger.
Cheerfully they go unbidden :
Fearing not that Death in ambush.
In the coal-mine may he hidden, —
Waiting, when they're most unwaiy.
In darkest depths he oft will lurk ;
Then, without a moment's warning,
He takes them when they're hard at work.
328 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
Who can tell the noblest natures,
Toiling" in the darksome measures ?
Dang'er tests who are unselfish, —
Proves that mines hide human treasures.
Who can paint the heart's deep cinguish,
When women hear the awful sound
Of the foul air, when exploding,
Within the coal-mine undergTound .''
Like the deaf'ning roll of thunder, —
"Tis as if the earth were groaning,
When the fire-damp is escaping, —
Followed by the victims' moaning.
To the scene of devastation,
Men ever willing are to go.
To explore the mines undaunted, —
To face the after-damp, their toe ;
Face it for their dying comrades —
This their cruel foe defiant ;
Yet they promptly do their searching.
Brave of heart, and self-reliant.
Touching- tales we hear related, —
How in the mine one dying man.
Wrote these words, " Good-bye dear Betsey"
And, " You must do the best you can ; "'
Then with trembling- hands the miner
Added, " Pray God help us all ; "
On his " corve" he traced the message
Feebly, when he heard God's call.
And his final words we echo, —
That God would help them all we pra}- : —
Grant His peace to those poor fellows.
When in Death's strong emijrace they lay :
And their dear ones now in sorrow.
Pray we for their welfare too,
Aid them till their blest reunion.
With their lost ones, loved and true.
PROMISCUOUS PIECES. 329-
Once there die.) u }uutliful hero —
A " hurrier '" boy, who toiled below,
When the deadly g'as was \ented.
And Christ niethinks has claimed liim now
Others souj,'-ht the path of safety.
Called him, yet he went another;
Saying" '• No I I cannot join you
Till I've found m\' darling' brother."
Thoug"h a little rou.yh black diamond,
We know he died a noble death ;
While these words. " V\\ save my Ijrother;''
Were ling'ring' on his dxing' breath:
Sacrificed his life in boyhood, —
Grieviniif now will not restore him ;
Angels deck his brow in Heaven, —
Why should earthly friends deplore him .'
TO AJ^ AmEf^lCA|Sl LUF^ITER OF SOmE
EUliOGlSTlC VEF^SES TO THE
AUTHOF^ESS.
Hark ! my lyre has roused an echo
From the New World, far away,
Comes to me a chord of music.
On the Old Year's dying- da}'.
I^^rom those tender notes that reach me.
Whispers from a distant shore, —
It \\t)uld seem to me the minstrel
Must have touched the Ivre before.
Stranu;er. from my heart I thank thee 1
Fur thy sweet anil cheering' song"
Wafted hither o'er the waters.
Prompts me in my purpose strong.
;30 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE OATES.
If my song"s have given comfort,
Even to one single breast,
By the gracious God who gave them
Are my efforts truly blest.
All my lays are free and simple ;
As the wild-bird's song they flow,
From the heart, and thus it seemeth,
Into other hearts they glow.
Through the gift that God hath gi'en me
All my pent-up feelings gush ;
I will sing while He permits me —
Till His voice shall bid me hush.
TO E.J.H. OH H^H SEVE^lTEE^^TH
Bl1^THt>AY.
Sweet gentle maid, thy friend's best wishes take
Unto thy heart, for they are all sincere ;
My love is thine, and for thy own dear sake
I hail this day, what though thou art not near.
For I have seen
Thy childhood and thy girlhood pass away ;
Bedimmed alas ! by one dark mournful cloud ;
But that has passed, and now thou hast to-day,
Attained that age of which we all are proud,—
Sweet seventeen !
Past are the first two epochs of thy life,
And standing on the threshold of the third,
Thy spirit finds there woman's cares are rife,
And trembles in its cage, like some poor bird.
But falter not :
Reared in the atmosphere of home, to shield
Thy charms unfolding, like a tender flower; —
As modest iis the daisy in the field, —
Pure as the lily in its native bower, —
Blest be thy lot !
I'KOMISCl'OUS PIKCES. 33 1
A mOTHER'S bULiLiflBY.
Si.KKi', my chilli, fur 1 am near.
Close beside thy bed ;
To wipe away that fretful tear,
And soothe thy achiny head.
T\vili<i;-ht shadows now are cast,
Upon the cottage wall ;
Sleep, for nig"ht is falling' fast —
And God is over all.
Rest, my precious darling, rest,
Thy little troubles calm ;
Mother sits buside thee lest
Aught should do thee harm.
On thy little curly head
The silv'ry moonbeams fall ;
Angels hover round thy bed,
And God is over all.
All thy childish sports are o'er —
Thy playthings put away, —
Folded is yon jjretty flower.
Until another day.
The little bird has gone to sleep,
And ceased its plaintive call;
Silence reigns around thee deep, —
And God is over all.
Ihen hush that peevish, fretful sound,
And close those pretty eyes ;
Oblivion reigneth all around.
The wind has hushed its sighs.
The sun has lowered in the west, —
"Twas like a golden ball ;
The weary world has gone to rest, —
And God is (j\er all.
*a/^*«^
332 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
THE LiOVEf^'S LiflY.
Dearest, since I first beheld thee,
Life is not the same to me ;
Everything- around is brighter,
Tinctured with the thoughts of thee :
Life is fairer, Hfe is sweeter, —
Sweeter with the thoughts of thee.
Absence only makes thee dearer,
And thine image 'gainst my will.
Comes before me. bright and radiant.
Parted though, I love thee still ;
Daily now my life grows sweeter, —
Sweeter thoughts my day-dreams fill.
How I miss thy bright young presence.
Here, away from thee and thine ;
Yet thy spirit comes to cheer me.
Oh ! that I could call thee mine !
Since I knew thee, life is sweeter —
Sweeter, as our hearts entwine.
Night and day thy bright orbs haunt me.
And I seem to live again.
In the sunshine of thy presence.
Could the vision but remain !
Life is fuller, life is sweeter, —
Sweeter while such love-dreams reign.
Love has all things now transfigured,
Glorified the meanest things ;
Called forth tender, new emotions,
Touched the soul's deep hidden springs
Life is fairer, richer, sweeter, —
Sweeter with a love that clings.
Oh ! that I to-day might see thee.
Meet thy lustrous, love-lit eyes :
Clasp thy hand in love's warm pressure :
These, stern Fate to me denies.
Fond reflections make life sweeter, —
Sweeter, while each moment flies.
PROMISCIOUS PIECES. 333
But 'tis well to know that distance
Cannot once our love-links break:
Tender tokens. love's remembrance,
Treasured are for thy dear sake ;
Precious love-j^ifts make life sweeter —
Sweeter thou.t^hts of thee they wake.
Memory now the past illumines, —
Those loved hours I've spent w ith thee :
Burnished are like <rolden waymarks.
Till they ^^-listen, fair to see : —
Makings present duties sweeter, —
Sweeter, with the thoughts of thee.
Smiling- Hope, with rainbow colours.
Points our future, fair and light ;
From its ever flowing fountain.
Brings me nectar day and night ;
Tells me life will yet be sweeter, —
Sweeter with thy presence bright.
Sweet to know what though we're parted,
Thou art thinking oft of me ;
Sweet to feel thou art responsive.
True, as I shall ever be I
Not forgotten I life is sweeter, —
Sweeter to be loved by thee.
What a subtile touch of nature.
Draws together heart to heart !
Soul is unto soul \ibrating.
Though so far from me ihou art :
Love-bonds strong have made life sweeter.
Sweeter, though we dwell apart.
Would that thou wert mine for ever I
Would that thou wert always near:
Mine to keep, to love, and cherish,
Mine to comfort, and to cheer:
This is what I ask me often.
Could I live without thee. Dear ?
334 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
THH pLiOCiUEt^ Glt^Li.
'TwAS in the city's busy street,
The air was keen and chill :
Benumbing was the fog' so bleak —
For winter ling-er'd still.
A little fragile form was seen
To wander in the street ;
A maiden selling flowers, and she
Had cold and shoeless feet.
With timid, supplicating- glance,
The same words she would cry : —
" Who'll have a pretty bunch of flowers ?
Oh, come now, will you buy ? —
'' I've got some pretty crocuses —
Daffodils of golden hue ;
And here are lovely primroses.
Snowdrops, and violets too.''
And all day in the cheerless street,
The strangers passed her by :
They heeded not her pleading voice —
They heard not her low sigh.
Then tired and wear}- she sat dcnvn.
Upon a window sill —
The poor and fragile little girl.
So ])ale and gentle still.
She felt so cold and hungry then.
And sighed in deep distress,
And drew more close around her form,
Her little tattered dress.
A watchman passed, with measured step.
And saw her sitting there ;
He said : "My child, you'll go back home,
You are not wanted here."
PROMISCIOIS PIECES. 335.
"Go home? I have no homo, " she said,
" My friends are far away ;
My mother, she is lon^ since dead :
Oh, please, Sir, let me stay.
'• My master, he'll be an^^^ry if
M\' flowers are not sold ;
Ami oh 1 I dare not take them hack.
P'or fear that he should scold."
And then her eyes grew dim with tears,
Her little heart was sad ;
One solitary penny piece —
Alas .' was all she had I
And when she tried to sell her flowers
The passt rs-by would say:
"We do not want your flowers, my g'\r\,
Why don't you g"o away .' '"
And then the shades of eve crept on,
And faded into nij,;ht ;
Then all the splendid shops were g"ay,
With many a dazzling- light.
Ami no one in the city cared
P'or that poor wretched child :
Alone, in want, amidst the wealth
An<l i)leasures of mankind.
But ere another day had dawned.
The girl had found a home :
A happy home I where all is love -
No more again to roam.
Her weary limbs found rest at last.
Her spirit fletl away ; —
Fled from this dreary world of ours.
Before another day.
For on a doorstej) she was found.
Her hand beneath her head:
Her flowers beside her : there she lay
So cold, and white, and dead !
336 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE OATES.
LilHES TO A YOUTH Ofi ATTfllfllHG
HIS fllAJOf^ITV.
All joy to thee, on this thy natal day !
Thoug-h boyhood sweet for thee has passed away,
More dignified thou com'st before us now.
In all youth's ardour, with unclouded brow.
Upon the threshold of thy manhood we
Behold thee standing-, buoyant bright and free ;
With radiant smile thou meetst the coming years,
Unknown to sorrow, and life's withering cares.
Impulsive youth ! with day-dreams fair and bright,
What though thy form has gained its manhood's height,
Thy soul will not attain, though e'er so pure
Its fullest stature, till in years mature.
Thou lookest back on this thy happy time,
And contemplat'st it, when in manhood's prime.
In gorgeous hues, all things to thee now seem,
Aglow witti love; while Hope's inspiring beam,
Illumes the path where youth's impetuous feet,
Tread lig-htly now, on roses fair and sweet.
Though we no more shall know thee as a boy,
Yet may the fullness of all earthly joy
Attend thee ever, through life's mazy throng ;
As good upholding, and renouncing wrong,
Thou keepest on with purpose firm and true,
And righteous ways, with rectitude pursue :
Bring honour, and with measure full and free,
Give back the love that erst has nurtured thee.
"Mongst fellow men to-day then start in life,
Put on thy armour, join the earnest strife;
Though strong temptations may beset thy way,
We fully trust that thou wilt "watch and pray."
Strong be thy faith, ask (tod to be thy guide,
And lead thee right, then will no ill betide.
Oh ! may thy life like placid streamlet be,
Thiit wends in peace so gently to the sea;
Unlike the torrent, tearing onward fast,
With mad impetus, all too quickly past.
PROMISCUOUS PIECES. 33/
Now ihou hast reached that all-important a»je,
When thou must step upon life's busy stage ;
The joNOus youth the [)rolo.L,'-ue l)Ut has been,
The curtain rises on the opening" scene.
And thou henceforth must take a foremost part
In life's great drama, and where-e'er thou art,
l^'nact it nobly ; make thy efforts shine,
And let a truly worthy part be thine ;
Sustain it well, so that thy manly role,
Be emulated by a brother soul ;
And when at length the final scene shall close.
The words ''well donel" shall greet thee 'midst applause.
THE DYI^G CHlLiD.
Mother, I am going- to leave you,
I am going so far away;
I shall be in happy Heaven,
Ere there dawns another day.
Mother, see the sun is setting —
Sinking slowly in the west ;
And my spirit too is fading, —
I am sinking fast to rest.
Mother, you will feel so lonely,
When I am no longer here ;
You will miss your little Lucy,
And you'll wish that I was near.
Mother, you will miss my presence,
In our little cottage home:
You will never hear me singing,
You will feel so sad and lone.
Mother, tell my little jilaymates.
They will never see me more ;
Tell them they will never see me,
Playing at our cottage door:
338 P0E3IS BY CHARLOTTE OATKS.
Mother, I have loved them dearly ; —
Tell them that I said g-ood-bye ;
Jesus blest the little children.
And he calls me up on High.
Mother, you have had to scold me,
I have been a naughty child ;
You have often had to chide me,
But how g-ently, and so mild.
Mother, will you please forg-ive me ?-
Now my end is drawing- nig'h ;
For I know I've often STieved vou.
to'
Forgfive me I now, before I die !
' &
Mother, you must cease your weeping.
Hold my little wasted hand !
I am g'oing to dwell in Heaven —
With the happy angel band.
Mother, it is hard to leave you,
But vou soon will follow me ;
When we meet ag^ain in Heaven,
Oh ! how happ}- we shall be.
Mother, see the ang^els comingf —
Coming- for your Lucy now ;
Mother dearest, sit beside me.
Wipe the moisture from my brow .
Mother, will vou come and kiss me, —
You have loved your little girl : —
Good-bye, I am going- to Heaven. —
Farewell. Mother dear — farewell.
ODE TO THE POET liOlNiGFHIJtIJtOCJa.
Wilt thou take this humble tribute ?
Asa token of my love :■ —
Love for all that thou hast written,
For the noble inspirations,
Harder hearts than mine would move.
PROMISCUOUS PIECES. 339
I have read thy soul's deep lang-uag-e,
In the words on e\c'ry pa^'^e,
That thy pen has traced in boyhood.
And the sterner years of manhood,
And when bowed with hoary age.
I have read them, and reflected.
Felt the weight of every word ;
And have found relief and comfort,
For thy thoughts ha\e roused an echo,
Touched a sympathising chord ; —
That within my heart has slumbered.
And awakes responsive now ;
Yet my genius is as nothing
To thine. Western Star of beauty, —
Now alas I fast sinking low.
Like the brooklet to the ocean.
Like a shrub unto a tree ;
As a molehill to a mountain,
And as moonlight unto sunlight.
Such am I compared with thee !
Thou hast tuned the living lyre.
Touched it with a master's hand ;
Showing wisdom, meditation —
Minstrel loved among the people,
Singing all throughout the land.
1 have read the " Golden Legend."
And the wondrous, charming tales,
Of the "Fireside,'' and the " Seaside,"
And the beauteous " Birds of passage,"'
I would praise, but language fails.
They so pure and elevating,
• Take our thoughts away from earth ;
Oh ! I love thy brief eff"usions,
Softened by a shadi^ of sadness.
None can trulv tell their wonh.
)40 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
I have read with deep emotion,
Till my eyes have filled with tears,
At the pictures called before me,
Of thine own sublime creation,
Soothing- all our earthly cares.
I am but thy younger sister,
In the Old World far away;
Through life's pathway toiling- onward,
And before me are thy footprints,
Shining" like a guiding ray.
Though I know these lines unworthy
Of the subject of my song-;
Yet the simple words are heartfelt,
And I trust thee, unknown brother,
As the weak will trust the strong: —
For I know thy heart is tender,
And will every fault forgive, —
"Tis in all thy works reflected ;
Though the ocean deep divides us,
Yet amongst us thou dost live.
■jj-
Bard immortal ! may good angels
Ever hover round thy head;
Blessings on thy name tor ever;
For thou still wilt speak unto us —
When thy spirit shall have fled.
Ul^ITED.
1 SEE in the mirror of fancy,
A picture so vivid and bright ;
I cannot but pause and inspect it,
'Tis glowing^ with rosy-hued light.
The figures within it are living,
And two my attention beguiles ;
For there are a pair of true lovers.
Their faces enwreathed with sweet smiles.
PROMISCIOIS PIKCKS. 34 1
And thore is a little \vint,^cfl riipicl
Just hoverinj,^ 'tween the fond pair :
Throuj^-h intricate paths he has led them
To groves that are sunny and fair.
He leads them toward a brig-ht temple,
All sacred to prayer and to praise ;
"Tis filled with a radiant ^^lory
That pierces the dim winter haze.
They enter, in dig"nified silence,
The aisles where so many have trod ;
And there at the l)eautiful altar.
The two are made one, before God.
And thus both united and happ\-,
The\- each .i^ive a warm nuptial kiss ;
And there with my blessing- upon them,
I leave them to sweet wedded bliss I
*'THH BflTTLiE IS OVEf^."
The battle is over, g-o look at the spoil.
And bury the poor mangfled dead in the soil ;
Go, see what a sickening- sight is re\'ealed.
Where thousands lie slain on the crimson-stained field
Refle'-t what the war to the nation has cost.
And think of the anguish for those that are lost.
The battle is over, what good is achieved ?
For still they believe as their fathers believed ;
Our faith is unshaken, we think as before.
The warfare is over, the men are no more ;
We sought to avengfc what we fancied a wrong-.
Thr strife was unequal, the weak with the slr(-)ng-.
The battle is over, the fighting- was hard;
And if we have conquered, what is our reward ?
We know not; and still it is taken for good.
That triumph, and honour, and glory, mean blood!
No guerdon is ours, we in truth were to blame.
Our passion is o'er, and we're burnings with shame 1
342 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE OATES.
The battle is over, and thousands are slain,
We fain would redeem it, — restore them again ;
Go, bring- them to life on this earth if ye can !
And fill up the ranks as they were, to a man ;
Ye cannot ! then 1)ury them under the sod —
Death may clo man's bidding, but Life comes from God!
THE mfllDEfl AflD HEl^ liUTE.
Sweet lute let us discourse again.
As evening's twilight gathers round;
The wild west wind its minstrelsy,
Will join, with sweet melodious sound.
The raindrops patter on the root,
The autumn day is waning now ;
And all is peace within my cot, —
The fading embers flicker low.
The missel thrush has hushed his song —
Within the bush has gone to rest ;
The scattered clouds are drifting on,
The sky is heavy and oppressed.
The beetle swiftly buzzes by.
As on its blind career it goes ;
I'he rose-trees scratch the window-pane,
And beat it with their briery boughs.
The objects 'round grow indistinct,
Dim shadows rest against the wall;
A spell that I can not resist.
Is softly creeping over all.
'Tis now the time 1 love to speak.
To let my maiden heart o'erflow ; —
To speak unto my treasured lute.
And trill a song of mirth, or woe.
I touch a chord, and it responds —
Reveals a tone, that I would seek;
It seems to sympathize with me.
And softly to my heart doth speak.
PROMISCUOLS PIECKS. 343
If I am sari, a sonthin;jf strain
I waken from its string-s so sweet ;
If 1 am glad, my touch is *^ay,
My happiness is then complete.
I linger oer it, till the light
Has faded from the weeping sky;
The room is dark, and now the wind
Has lowered to a. moaning sigh.
I can no longer see its strings,
Yet every touch it answers me;
My fingers, as by instinct make
It speak, what though I cannot see.
And when I cease, a solemn hush
Mangs o'er my dwelling, like a spell ;
As Nature hearkens, all intent,
Her favourite muse she loves so well.
To me it is Iteyond all price,
Sweet solace of my leisure hour ;
It IS my friend in every mood,
it has a deep soul-soothing- power.
■Give me my lute, 1 covet not
The riches all the world may bring ;
Let me in solitude at eve',
Unite with it, and softly sing.
LilflES TO Rfi II^FA^IT'.
PooK helpless l),dje ! thou knowest not
The world to which thou'rt born ; —
That tho' life's path has roses sweet,
Behind lurks many a thorn, —
And all the fairest tlowers on earth.
By biting l)lasts are torn :
344 POEMS BY CHAKLOTTE GATES.
But these are yet unknown to thee,
A strang"er to the world ;
Yet if thy Hfe be spared, its scenes
Will be to thee unfurled :
As on the "Railroad of Old Time,"
Thou day by day art whirled.
Wrapped in thy little swaddling- clothes,
What is this land to thee ? —
'Tis but a desert, unexplored,
Encircled by the sea !
Yet who can tell, to see thee now
What one day thou wilt be ?
Who knows what hidden treasures lie
Within that little brain :
And what these tiny hands will do,
If life and strength remain ?
We cannot tell thy course, ere age
Makes thee a child a^'ain.
*&•
Thy voice in future will be heard
Above that whimp'ring cry ;
It yet may sway the people's minds,
When it is lifted high.
God grant that all those folded buds.
Expand before they die !
Thy share of trouble for thee waits.
Upon thy future way ;
May Mercy with its gentle hand
Soon chase it all away, —
And ever may the light of Hope,
Illumine with its ray.
And tho' life's path be rough and steep,
It is not always night ;
For here and there amid the shade,
There beams a sunny liyht; —
An opening on the dreary way, —
A glade, that gleams so bright.
PROMISCLOrS PIECES. ^545;
A span of min;^l('d jov and vov.
The bridg-i' that wails thy feet :
Thou sweet unconscious little one,
Laid in thy crih asleep;
I bid j,''ood-b)e, and leave a kiss
Upon thy baby cheek.
l^ETF?OSPECTIOrl.
When looking" luick on the bygone years.
The lig'hts and shadows, the smiles and tears.
The joys and sorrows the heart has known.
And precious boons that liave been our own :
The soul g-oes out in a song' of praise
For mercies sweet that ha\e blest our days.
There are no roses without a thorn,
And looking back on afflictions borne,
But seems to brighten and make rnore dear
The pleasant days that were fair and clear:
The rays of joy on the past we see
Like rainbow tints on a storm-lashed sea :
And faith has shone like a beacon light,
.^\nd soothed the spirit through griefs dark night.
Each natal day there's a sweet content
To backward look on a life well spent : —
On work performed, and on duties done,
C)n the good achieved, and the honours won.
Kind words and actions from day to day,
l"'all sweet as flowers strewn on life's way.
A life well lived is the best enjoyed,
We measure time as it is employed :
In joy, on gossanu r wings lis sped.
In i)ain, it passes on wings of lead ;
And this must solace all hearts opprest
"Who labours hardest finds sweetest rest."
The thoughts turn back, and the past appears.
To dearer grow with the lapse of years ;
And youth resembles, so soon 'tis flown.
The tender light iif the dajipled dawn :
34^ POEMS BY CHARLOTTE OATES.
The rosy glow of the orient skies,
That marks the place where the sun will rise ;
The transient g"low must too soon give way,
Before the glare of life's fleeting dav :
And ere 'tis valued behold ! we trace,
Time's footsteps left on the care-lined face;
And ere we know it, oft-times are there.
His gleams of silver amongst the hair.
Thus age creeps on, as the day will glide,
The sun must set at the evening-tide ;
So one by one do our friends depart,
And links will break that must wrench the heart ;
Each plays his part on the world's wide stage.
Some go when young, and some ripe with age.
Those whom in youth we have loved the best,
Have done their parts and have gone to rest :
Oh ! strange it seems it should oft be so.
That hearts mqst cherished are first to go ;
The true ones left, be they e'er so few.
Whose friendship came like the grateful dew,
That falls so fresh on the verdure parched.
They cheered the way as we onward marched ;
Let such be prized while our path they cross.
Like grains of gold on a road of dross.
Till we in turn must obey the call ;
And why should ever the grave appall.''
Life's but the passage to higher tilings,
Before the spirit has found its wings ;
And death is but our chrysalis state.
Whence winged we soar to the Glory-gate !
To enter There in our new array,
The perfect light of a fadeless day ;
Nor eye of mortal can pierce the veil
That hides the Realms where no ills assail;
May each so live that as fresh years come.
We worthier feel of our Father's Home.
<^(^A Sf V r7>/^'2'
-(^yfKS'
rROMISCLOfS I'IKCES. 347
FARECUEbU UIHES TO DEPAF^TlNG
FRIENDS.
l'".\KK\vKi.i„ farewell 1 ihese cruel words,
Whose import we hut feel too well,
Must now he said, ami in them lies,
A depth of feeling- none can tell.
May God speed on that gallant ship.
And hear you swiftly o'er the Ijrine !
For love and hope await \ou there, —
Their tendrils rouiid your hearts to twine.
When dwellin^i;- where the southern cross,
Glov\s all resplendent in the sky;
Oft may your thoughts he wafted here,
As whispering zephyrs pass you hy.
And scenes that you have left hehind,
liefore your vision oft arise ;
J.ike some fair picture they may come,
And pass hefore your tear-dimmed eyes.
But one I know will haunt you most,
And dearer he to \ou than all, —
1 hough sweet sad memories in its train,
Unto your hearts it may recall; —
The picture of the dear old home,
That ne'er will hi- the same again ;
When all its circle was complete, -
Kre death its links had snapt in twain.
And vanished voices you may hear,
Upon the sunn)- southi-rn hreeze,
Of those w ho loved you long hefore
You trod that l.iiid across the seas.
And when the heart's deep fount o'erilow s,
Recalling'- scenes long K-ft hehin<l.
W^e knt)W that Love has forged a chain.
Two Lands apart with it lo hind ;
348 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
So Strong-, that but by death 'twill break,
What thoug-h 'twill stretch the seas across :
Love too will memory's tablet take,
And keep it free from g-athering- moss.
Whatever gforg-eous sig-hts you see,
Revere the Land that gfave you birth, —
The many loving- friends, who ne'er
May meet your forms ag-ain on earth.
And where the southern clime its wealth
Of bloom shall all around you shower,
Oh ! may you never once forg-et
The English little wayside flower !
Good-bye, sweet children, may you rise
And live in g-oodness to adorn,
Your future home, yet always love
The dear old Land where you were born I
You'll help to make Australia great,
Our hope and pride ; some future day
Its sons may i^ee the Mother-land,
With all her glory passed away.
Farewell, farewell ! I leave you now.
And this shall be my parting- prayer : —
That (jod will g-uide you, and will drop
His choicest g-ifts upon you there !
THE EVE^IHG STAf^.
Where art thou wandering-, brig-ht little star .-
Up in the beautiful heavens afar ;
Traversing- onward, where e'er thou art seen,
To offer us g-uidance on earth with thy beam.
The first to appear in the clear azure sk\-,
Like an ang-el of hop- thou art beaming- on high •
Bursting- forth softly, sweet vesper so brig-Jit,
Beaming- so pale in the ling-ering- lig-ht.
PROMISCIOIS PIECKS. 349
Smile in thy jjurity (jver tiic dell,
Twinkle serenely o'er water and fell ;
Gem of rare beauty, so faithful antl true,
Rising- at eve in the firmament blue.
Thou heavenly lam|) of the beautiful nis^ht,
We marvel on earth at thy clear steadfast lii^lu ;
Unfading- thy glory, thy destiny there,
Faiths beacon to guide us to portals more fair.
A comforting thought to a fond yet sad heart.
That must sever from loved ones — must wander apart-
Is this sweet reflection, that each other's eyes,
Though distant, will see thee at twilight arise.
If one should be borne from this world to On High,
Far beyond thy domain in the lovely blue sky ;
Thou'd seem then to beckon the other to rest —
To follow their soul to the " Realms of the Blest."
A SimPbE TP<UTH.
A TRAIT there is in human nature weak.
In that we often crave the things that we
Do not possess : fof such far-olT we sce
With rose-tin<red vision ; —set ourselves to seek.
To gain an object ; which, like sunlit peak,
Seems less ethereal on a nearer view.
Twas even so in rhil'ihood : then we knew
The land looked fairer just across the creek;
Toys more enticing to our envious eyes,
In other hands. So be it understood
That what we own, we all too lightly prize ;
And thus we err. Grand aspir^itions shoukl
Rut be our aim : if we would nobler rise, —
Strive to attain that which is jiure and good.
350 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
mi^ES OJi THE OPEHlNC OF HflHOLtt>'
PAi^K, uoux moof^,
SEPTEMBER iqth, 1S85.
What is this glad expectant throng ?
For what are all these banners gray?
The answer we can read ere long" —
That Low Moor is en fete to-day.
There's one whose memory still is green —
Who lived a pure and blameless life ;
Has left a mark where he has l)een,
With noble deeds his diiys were rife.
He died in manhood's early years,
Yet not before much g"ood he'd w rought :
We see to-dav, midst smiles and tears,
The outcome of his care and thought.
Who knows what good he might have done
Had he been spared to riper years .^
Laments are vain ; his crown is won —
He rests beyond all earthly cares.
He made *'the wilderness to bloom"—
The barren waste, a flowery spot ;
His name through all the years to come,
Revered will be, and ne'er forgot.
Thus is this happy grateful crowd
Assembled here from many a home :
Awaiting- those of whom they're proud —
To-diiy his honoured parents come, —
To ope' the gates of " Harold Park,"
And from the fountain raise the veil,
In memory of their son : but hark I
With cheers the noble pair they hail. —
For Lord and I^ady Cranbrook move
Amongst the throng, v.'ith stately mien;
And every heart exults in love,
As now their welcome forms are seen :
PROMISCUOUS PIF.CES. 35 1
The sun shiriL'S out : the banners hrii^ht
So gaily flutter in the wind ;
'Ihe music sounds ; and all unite
To leave an impress on the mind.
Lo ! every murmur now is hushed
In silence for each speech and prayer :
And fervent words as ever gushed
From heart, are now being- uttered there.
When these are o'er, the silence breaks
With one prolonged and heartfelt cheer;
The key is turned : the echo 'wakes.
For children singing" now we hear.
Their youthful voices all have vent.
The music on the breezes lloat;
A fine old hymn to heaven is sent,
And sihery clear ring's every note.
Now forward moves the eager throng;,
And enters at the gilded gates ;
And once more silence reigns amono-
The happy crowd, that quietly waits, —
'liie lady mother's hand to raise,
The veil from off their tribute there.
To her dear son, who spent his days
Among-st his sturdy workmen here.
When earnest words have all been said.
The cover see, she lifts away; —
And as the ringing cheers are spread, —
Reveals the granite column grey:
A fountain of pure water clear, —
A fitting tribute to his name ;
Pure thoughts sj)rung from his soul when here.
And lofty was his every aim.
See ! how the people now parade
Their park, where spacious walks abound ;
For toiling ones this gift was made,
When labour's o'er, here they'll be found.
;52 P0E3IS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
This day in fancy long- they'll see,
" The Park" will be the people's pride ;-
An earthly paradise 'twill be ; —
A boon to all on every side.
TO KATIE ; OH P^ECEIVH^G HeK^
PHOTO.
Little Katie, is this you dear?
Now a lovely woman g^rown !
Unto you acroi^s the waters.
Oft have I in fancy flown.
But I pictured you my darling.
Just the little girl you were,
"When you left the Mother-country,
In your sweet child-beauty fair.
Yet I see my once wee Katie,
Peeping- through this woman's guise ;
There is here the child's glad spirit,
Beaming from those mirth-lit eyes.
Oh, that I might, just a moment.
Clasp your hand across the foam ! —
See you, hear your sweet voice speaking.
In your sunny southern home.
"What would I not give to kiss you !
If but for another's sake ;
For the love I bear your mother.
Time, nor distance, cannot break.
May your future lot be happy.
Winsome, loving-hearted g'irl ;
If we ne'er should meet again Love,
Take my blessing-, fare-you-well !
-^-
PROMISCUOUS PIECES.
■):>:
THE BLilHtD.
On, hiive i)ity on the si<,'-htless,
Vuu who have }uur every sense ;
Hear the song's that they will sing- you,
Listen to their touching music,
Give them too some recompense.
Kindly lead them, gently guide them.
For they know not where they go ;
Help your sisters, and your brothers,
Who must live in utter darkness
lu'er while they re here below.
Let us try and make them happy,
Give them all our care and love;
vSome have never seen the beauties.
And the glorious wealth of nature,
In the world in which we move.
All that is sublime and lovely
(iladdens not the blind one's eyes;
They have never seen the ocean,
With its mighty white-capped billows
On its bosom, fall and rise.
See they not the snow in beauty,
Lying calmly on the land, —
Folding all in ilreary silence, —
Clothing in a garb of cr)-stal
All beneath its cold white hand.
Nor the flowers in all their freshness,
P)looniing- in the fair sunlight,
With their ptirfect forms so lovely, —
Slender stamens, softest petals,
Chastely coloured, rich and bright.
See they not the stately forests,
With their varied shades of green ;
Nor the soft and verdant meadows,
Or the rippling stream and fountain-
All these some have never seen.
354 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
Never seen the golden sunlig-ht,
And the heavens' brilliant blue ;
Nor a o-orgeous crimson sunset.
When the clouds are softly tinted, —
Streaked \vith many a vivid hue.
Never seen the bright moon shining", —
Lighting- up the midnight sky,
Earthward ever softly beaming ;
And the thousand stars that quiver
In that mighty space on high.
These, and many other beauties
Cannot ever charm the blind;
They have never seen the moorland,
With its sweet wild purple heather,
Gently waving in the wind.
Sights that are to us impressive,
By the blind are ne'er enjoyed ;
Busy, moving" life around them
Is beyond their comprehension —
All to them is blank and void.
Yet in their imagination
Things described to them must dwell
Faces of their friends familiar.
They must paint as ideal pictures,
And the spots they know so well.
Who would walk in total darkness, —
Be as in perpetual nig'ht.
Seeing not clear kindred faces .'
Pity all then thus afflicted —
Comfort those devoid of sight.
Ah, it must be dark and dreary !
Life to them be like a dream :
One from which they cannot waken.
Till their happy souls, immortal,
Wake in Heaven's golden gleam !
PROMISCIOL'S PIF.CES, 355
t^EmEmet^flHCE.
I
WiiKN those we love are far away,
Across the mi<,'-hty main :
Oh, how we yearn .so for the day
To see them once asfain.
■■&'
In fancy, we can hear them speak
As once we user! to hear ;
When last we kissed them on the cheek,
And dropt a parting- tear.
And they will haunt us in a dream.
Though far from us they are ;
Their much-loved forms, around us seem
Like spirits from afar.
'Twas hard to say the last "ofood-bye,"
When |)arting- from their side ;
And yet they took our heart-felt sigh
Across the ocean wide.
Oh ! if we could but see them now,
If only for a day ;
To press a kiss upon their brow.
Or cheer them on their way.
We love the spots where they ha\e moved
Though now so far they roam ;
We treasure things we know they loved.
When they were here at home.
We prize the books they used to read ;
And love their vacant chair,
That tells a silent tale indeed, —
Of one who oft sat there.
Tis sweet to think of those we love.
And sweet to know that they
Are watched, like us, from Heaven above.
Though far from us away. —
356 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
The one great Father of us all,
He g"uards them over there ; —
Who watches every sparrow fall,-
We trust them to His care.
LUOf^DS OF CHEEJ^.
Oh ! friends in affliction, the winter departs.
The bud has appeared on the tree ;
Though darkness o'ershadovved, and all but o'er-
A rift in the clouds we can see : [whelmed.
The brunt of the tempest has passed o'er your heads,
But fairer the future will be.
You've been in distress, but the ordeal has shown
That sympathy yet is awake.
And proved you have friends where you little had thought.
Whose prayers have been breathed for your sake ; —
Compassionate hearts, who so freely have tried,
A share of your burden to take.
It may be the weight of your sorrow or pain.
Seems more than your spirit can bear —
But tell it to God; He will never, I know.
Permit you to sink in despair; —
For He, in His infinite goodness, has ne'er
Been deaf to a genuine prayer.
Then tenderly, lovingly, Mercy will come.
And lilt up the curtain of gloom,
And let in the light from the glory beyond,
To brighten each sufferer's room —
She always is ready to soften for us
Our passage from birth to the tomb.
It may be that now she is close at your side,
Her figure but veiled by a tear ;
Whenever misfortune assails us we find
That angel's sweet presence can cheer,
And ever when darkness is densest v\e know
The dawn of the morning is near.
PROMISCUOUS PIECES. 357
And listen, my sisters, the sprinjftime has come.
With promises rich as of old ;
And think how the whole world of nature revives,
That erst seemed so withered and cold :
The flowers of summer will flourish at^-ain :
The moors wear their jjurplc and j^^old.
Hope peejis throuq-h the chinks of the harriers grim,
That w oe has erected around ;
They'll crumble away, and its sweet smiling- face.
Once more at your side may be found :
The crocus but waited the snow-wreaths to melt.
Then broke through the frost-crusted ground!
I know it is hard to in meekness submit,
Whenever great troubles befall;
But strive to be cheered, for howe'er we lament,
We cannot the lost ones recall.
May God in His love the afflicted restore.
And give His sweet peace to you all.
DI^IFTIHG APAt^T.
We are drifting apart now, my darling, —
Each goings on our separate way ;
For the beautiful past
Was too dream-like to last, —
Too fraught with sweet visions to stay !
In our youthtime we wandered together.
Each deeming- the other most dear;
But a hard cruel fate.
Came between us of late.
Our love must be laid on its bier.
We were destined while young to be severed.
Though life was all sunshine with thee ;
Though wo thought side by side
Throug-h our journey to glide.
It seems it was never to be !
>58 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
Though long- years we have glided serenely,
Our paths are dividing in twain ;
Thy life is before thee,
Oh ! now I implore thee,
Go forth, and be happy again !
I can never forget thee my darling,
Nor yet those bright days that have fled ;
In Arcadian bowers,
We gathered sweet flowers.
Now scattered, and scentless, and dead !
Aly bark near to thine sailed life's river,
With hope buoyed each merry young heart ;
Rut mine with the surges
From thine now diverges,
Alas ! we are drifting apart !
We can never again be united, —
For youth with romance comes no more ;
Yet 'twas lived not in vain,
For sweet mem'ries remain,
Of halcyon days that are o'er.
I liOVE TO i^ISS THAT FADED
CHEEI^."
I LOVE to kiss that faded cheek.
And press it gently 'gainst mine own ;
And those sweet eyes I love to seek,
Whose lustre now alas ! hath flown.
For I have seen them beam in mine,
Whilst on thy breast my head hath lain ;
Now Mother, as I look in thine,—
I wish myself a child jigain.
Oh ! vain the wish, it may not be.
That precious time will come no more ;
And yet another waits for thee, —
The childhood ne.xt the Golden Shore.
PROMISCLOIS PIECES. JSy
As Time speeds on, with ceaseless wings,
It leaves the trace where it hath been ;
The chang'es in its course it brin^^s
With ruthless hands, are ne'er unseen.
The tide of years may roll along-,
And drift us into channels new ;
^'et can I e'er forg^et thy song- ? —
The loved, the beautiful, the true!
Thoug-h time hath changed us Alother dear.
Yet Memory keej^s the treasured past :
They're g-olden hours whilst thou art near.
Oh I would that they might always last.
Now I must be what thou hast been.
We're changing- pJaces day by day ; —
1 leaned on thee, now thou dost lean
Upon me, I am now thy stay.
My will is thine, thou leavest to me
Life's burdens that on thee have pnst :
The noontide's labour mine must be,
h"or thee — the evening's peaceful rest.
Now I must lead, who once were led
By thee, in balmy days g'-one by;
When golden dreams my fancy fed.
In youth, beneath thy watchful eye.
Thou'rt passing from before mine eyes,
As dreams have passed, I felt were sweet;
Dark griet will cloud my sunny skies,
When I thy iorni no more may greet.
Thy path to brighten to the tomb
I hold o'er thee a torch of love ; —
To cheer the way, dispel the gloom.
Till light bursts on thee from Above.
Far be the day when thou must go :
Why Time advance with step so bold ?
Oh I grief of heart, oh! bitter woe,
When I shall see thee deiid and cold !
360 POEMS BY CHARLOTTF. OATKS.
And thou no more to me wilt speak,
Nor pass thy fingers through my hair
Caressingly; and on my cheek,
Imprint a sacred love-kiss there.
To God in Heaven I leave our fate,
For Mercy He will first disp^itch,
To bear His summons through the Gate,
And raise with gentle hands the latch.
THE BECGAtJ Glt^U.
She gently knocked at a rich man's door.
Then she meekly asked for alms ;
Her face was sweet, but of pallor hue.
Her dark-fringed eyes were of azure blue,
And her voice had a tone that charms.
The snow fell thick from a murky sky,
And the keen night wind blew strong;
She was thinly clad, and with cold she shook,.
In her upturned face was a sad pinched look.
As she stood and pleaded long-.
The servant listened her lowly plaint,
And stared but with proud disdain ;
Then when her piteous tale he"d heard,
Informed his master, who gave the word, —
" Oh ! tell her to call again—
"They arc a nuisance, those tramps," he said
To his com|)any 'round the board ;
"I've heard those pitiful tales before! ""
And he stamped his foot on the bright oak floor.
And scowled like an angry lord.
" Dismiss her James ! I'm engaged to-night ; "
He roared from his velvet chair ;
" But tell her to call in a day or two,
I'll search her story, and if 'tis true,
I'll see if I've aught to spare."
I'KOMISCLOrS I'lKCKS, 361
The man this messayo, with lofty air.
To the be-jfj^-ar maiden took ; —
"The master says you ma\- call ayain,"
Shf turned away with a throb of pain,
And a warning- wistful look.
She went no more. At the cold grey dawn.
When the streams with iee were bound ;
With a crystal snow-drift 'neath her head,
The rigid figure, so white and dead.
Of the beggar maid was found !
The angels pitied her weary soul,
And bore it beyond the storm ;
They softly came in the solemn night,
And scattered the snowllakes pure and white^
On the pour child's sleeping form.
And there she lay, in her heavenly shroud,
Where nature was all at peace ;
Her thin hands clasped on her childish breast,
The little pilgrim had found her rest, —
Her spirit its glad release.
BROTHEt^S AHD SISTEl^S
»»
I5K0THF.RS and sisters, come let us arise,
(io to our labour, while bright are the skies;
Dusk will come o'er us, the day will soon close,.
Xiglit will o'ertake us, when we can repose.
Brothers and sisters, now lot us away,
Kach io our calling- while yet it is day ;
Fortune awaits us, our efforts to bless, —
(lood honest workers will meet with success.
Brothers and sisters, then let us be brave.
Use to advantage the talents God gave ;
Start in gocxl earnest, and work with a zest.
Ere the sun enters the gates of the west.
362 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE DATES.
Brothers and sisters, dark shadows may lurk,
O'er and around us, but still we must work ; —
Work with a purpose, and each take a part,
Help one another, with courage of heart.
Brothers and sisters, oh ! let us trom youth,
Strive to be foremost in virtue and truth ;
Lift up the fallen, and give them a hand,^ —
Aid them with honour to pass through the land.
Brothers and sisters, how vast is the field !
Rich is the harvest each acre will yield ;
Strive who can work for the Great Master best,-
He will reward us with comfort and rest.
THE liOVEf^'S LtnmEflT.
"When the summer time was waning".
And trees their leaves beg"an to shed;
Then my weary footsteps wandered
Towards the spot where rests the dead :
Dear to some are all the sleepers,
Where lisping" willows round them wave ;
But to me one mound is sacred, —
My heart lies in that little grave.
Though the snows of many winters.
Have placed a covering pure and bright ;-
Spread by angels fair, as emblems
Of my beloved one's soul so white :
Yet I cannot once forget her, —
Still for her my soul will crave ;
All my dearest hopes there sleepeth, —
My heart lies in that little grave.
Now my lite is cold and lonely.
And oft my sjjirit longs to go;
Yet it were not well to murmur.
For God, it seems, has willed it so; —
TKOMISCIOUS PIKCKS. 363
Willed that I should nng"er hither,
And but one thou^^ht will make me brave ;
Tis that she must know in Heaven,
My heart lies in that little grave: —
Know that I revere her memory,
And love the earth where she is laid ; —
Know that when her spirit left me
A void within my life was made :
Ts'ever will her trust be broken.
Nor once revealed the love she .t,''ave ;
None may know my kilent sorrow,
My heart lies in that little j^rave.
Only once I've seen her semblance.
And like a light from heaven it flashed,
As a soul to mine responded,
For one brief moment, then it passed : —
Passed me like an insi.iiration,
Within the old cathedral nave ;
Beamed on me with tender pit}',
Whose heart lies in that little g;rave.
Time but makes the past g-row dearer.
For Memory weaves a fadeless charm :
Shows her as she stood beside me.
And blest me with her love so warm :
Oh ! to see her living presence !
P)Ut it were vain to madly rave ;
While for her my soul is yearning,
My heart lies in that little grave.
True to her who yet was truer,
For ne'er her like will live .'igain :
Oh ! that I were laid beside her.
As free from sorrow, sin, and jiain I
She has passed the narrow portal,
As dark as some unfathomeil cave;
Till our souls shall meet in Heaven —
My heart lies in ihiit little grave.
364 POF..MS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
Meekly I must bear my Ijurden,
And thou,o;h to rest with her were sweet,
I must do my Father's bidding",
Nor leave my labour incomplete; —
Wait awhile till He shall call me,
Nor let the vanished past enslave ;
But for me the days are cheerless,
My heart lies in that little grave.
Though the waiting-time be weary,
And none my deepest grief may know ;
Memories of the past are mingled.
With visions born of joy and woe :
If I strive One will in mercy,
A place for me beside her save ;
Till we are in Heaven united.
My heart lies in that little grave.
GRIEF-
When grief assails the tender heart.
For some departed soul ;
How vain, till tears have had their fling.
To seek to such console.
And falling on impressive youth.
That measures time so long,
It crushes all aspiring hopes.
That once were hot and strong.
They mourn intensely, and despiiir
Oft blights the trusting'" heart ;
They think their grief will always last —
That it can ne'er dei)art.
They cannot see beyond the cloud,
That shades the present hour ;
They know not that their future path
May teem w itli many a flower.
PROMISdOrS PIKCKS. 365
When sailincif on the sea of life,
We meet a friendly hark ;
And g-reet it (jnly for a time,
Then lose it in the dark :
And \vc henceforth must drift apart,
By many a storm be tossetl ;
We may not pass that bark ag"ain.
Its track no more be crossed :
And yet its 'semblance we retain,
When it has passed away ;
To memory's chamber olt it g'lides,
To lin<j;"er day by day.
And why should heart so cling to heart.
That for a time have met ?
And why should memory cherish them,
And parting cause regret?
When sorrow bows the gentle heart.
A gloom seems over all ;
And things that once had looked so bright.
Before our sorrows pall.
Then nature's charms seem all subdued,
It smiles for us in vain ;
What though its bt-auty beams around,
It seemelh not the same.
The flowers still will bloom as sweet,
Upon a summer's day.
Yet something mars their fresh perfume,
And blights their colours gay.
The gentle moon will shine the same —
The Empress of the night;
Yet o'er its brightness there's a gloom,
That dims its silvery light.
The evening wind will still breathe low.
Along the silent plain ;
There's sadness in its music, when
The heart is full of pain.
When those so near are called away,
We deepest sorrow feel ;
'Tis vain to soothe the wounded heart.
That time alone can heal.
366 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
We miss a faithful, kindred one,
That we could fondly trust —
That beat in unison with ours.
We grieve when it is dust.
There is a grief for dearest ties,
Or loving, long-tried friends.
That rends the sympathetic heart-
It breaks, before it bends.
R uiEiicomE HomE.
Welcome dearest, oh ! we meet thee,
With what joy from o'er the main ;
Loving hearts so fondly greet thee, —
Welcome ! dear one, back again !
Welcome here amongst us gladly,
For the sake of long-past days ;
Time has changed us all so sadly
While we've walked our separate ways.
P>om a sunny land ol brightness,
Engiand first would meet thy sight,
Clothed in robes, which from their whiteness,
Showed 'twas drest for winter's night.
Coldly sleeps our Isle, no colder
Is far Greenland's ice-locked strand ;
Never did the Frost-king bolder,
Wield his sceptre o'er our land ; — ■
Yet our northern race is fearless,
And he bears for us a charm ;
For 'neath skies so dull and cheerless,
English hearts beat true and warm.
If our skies had been all cloudless
When thou stept upon the shore ; —
Had thy native land been shroudless, —
Couldst thou then have loved it more >
PROMISCUOUS PIECKS. 367
'I'lmu wilt miss familiar faces.
Sii^-h for ihose who arc not near ;
^ Outh steps up to fill their places,
They, with time, w ill grow as clear.
On one spot I see thee weeping.
O'er those dear ones loved and true ;
Like our flowers, they are but sleeping-
Till they're called to bloom anew.
Those still left must be the dearer .
Now the older ties are gone ;
Dt-ath l)ut draws thje living nearer.
Till he claims us. one by one.
We have waited to caress thee,
While from us thou still didst roam ;
Oft we've i)riiyed for God to bless thee,-
Guide thee safe to friends and home.
OUD Ff^IEJ^lDS.
'Tis sweet to meet the dear old friends,
The good old friends of long ago ;
Who stood by us in adverse years —
Proved true in hours of deepest woe.
Who constant were through changeful years.
And felt w ith us in every mood ;
Through beaming eyes, and clasjj of hands.
Our kindred hearts have understood
The tokens of a friendship firm,
That yet will bear the strongest test :
When faith, goodwill, and sweet accord
Abounds in each, then all are blest.
And life glides like a hapj^y dream.
When of our friends alTection sure :
Who freely offer help unsought,
And but from motives good and pure.
368 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
Who cling to us where'er they be —
Keep loyal though we dwell apart ;
A bond unites us, which we feel
Is anchored fast within the heart.
We dearly prize the tried old friends,
And welcome them whene'er we meet : —
In memory cherish happy hours
We've spent with them in converse sweut.
Their g-enial tones, their fervent words,
Go with us through the lapse of years ;
Recalling- such, retains the power
To call up smiles, or move to tears.
■©n F)canno of tbe intcn^e^ ^cmoUtioii of
•ff^awortb ®l^ Gburcb, tbe burial place
of Cbajlotte JBronte.
Hold ! your sacrilegious hands ;
Touch not that venerated pile ;
Let it stand, so cjuaint and ancient,
For its dear associations, —
Think of those who trod its aisle.
Pause and think; then touch it not;
F"or 'neath that sacred tomb there sleeps,
One whose memory still we cherish.
She whose life-work ne'er will perish,
And for whom the world still weeps.
From that ever fertile brain,
Emaniited thougl]ts sublime; —
Gave the world a priceless largess, —
Twined a mig-hty wreath immortal,
'Round that temj)le, marked with time.
PROMISCUOUS PIKCES. 369
.\ol)le inspirations <,'-rand
Flowed with vi^^our from that pen ;
Gave her works a soul-horn pathos,
Ting-ed anon with fiery spirit.
True to nature, and to men.
And her sister rests with her,
Gifted with a talent rare ;
Lived their separate lives for others.
In one j^rave beneath that tablet —
Slumber now the sisters there.
Once within this village ciuiet,
The lig'ht of ;^'enius shone around ;
.\ow it woos the world unto it,
Where their mortal dust reposeth,
Underneath that hallowed ground.
Sparks of genius kindled here.
Won them all a world-wide fame ;
Xear that sacred pile abiding,
^'onder moorland wild with heather
bann'd them to a shining flame.
'&
Honoured as their resting place.
Spare, oh ! spare it to the last;
< iuard it, save it, from destruction ;
Hold it yet in veneration —
Treasured relic of the past :
Let not ruthless hands destroy,
That sacred edifice so grey;
ris the one our country loveth,
Lmblem of the bygone ages.
Built by hands long passed away.
Once upon her bridal morn.
She knelt before that altar there ;
Ciave her hand to him who loved her.
(ienius then her brow encircled, —
While she breathed the holy prayer.
370 POEMS BY CHARLOTTK DATES.
Then alas ! within a year,
In sable garments moving slow; —
There was seen a sad procession
Seek that place so dim and solemn,
In the tomb they laid her low.
Keep it, for the love we bear,
None again her place can fill;
There the dead in peace reposeth,
Softly tread, thy voice subduing,
Hold that altar sacred still.
All the village worthies old,
Ever prize it more and more ;
Monument of their ancestors ;
Spot wherein they love to worship, —
Their forefathers went before.
Many have been baptised there.
Wedded at that altar old ; —
Then in other years were carried,
In that peaceful churchyard buried
In the earth so damp and cold.
Oh! retain it for their sake,
Let not hands its walls efface ;
Let not then their every vestige.
Dwell alone in memory's vista.
Leave us yet that single trace.
Let it but decay with time,
'Tis the wish that thousands crave ;
At the shrine of genius bowing.
Bending low with softened feeling, —
Paying tribute o'er that grave.
Sacred to her memory dear.
Who liveth, tho' her soul is fled :
Precious is the spot she haunted —
Save it ; — for the love of Heaven ! —
Hear the voice that mourns the dead.
I'ROJir.scioi s I'iKCKS. 371
SORF^OUa'S SEALi.
When sorrow comes with its (hastening,'- hand
Upon the features it leaves its brand :
The heart is never again the same.
So prone to hope, as before it came ;
Nor yet so buoyant, subdued it lives,
And l)ears the mark that a j^-reat grief g-ives.
When sorrow's seal we are bound to wear,
It tempers joy, till it gdeams less fair.
But tearless anguish the most of all.
The sf)irit saddens, and casts a i)all
O'er all earth's beauties; ami leaves its trace.
Imprinted deep on the furrowed face;
The heart may break with a dry-eyed grief.
When tears g^ush not, to afford relief:
The voice may laugh, and the lips may smile.
But only a mask is worn the while.
We meet such faces in every mart,
That always speak of a blighted heart :
That still must live, though it be opprest —
In patience wait for the promised rest.
THE BLilND mOTHER.
roMK. here my child. 1 cannot sec th\- face,
^'et o'er thy features 1 can pass my fmg-ers;
And as on them my touch so fondiv ling-ers,-
Their form 1 trace.
"Tis sweet to have thee nestle ilose to me. —
To hear the voice of one I love so dearly :
.'Xs thou wert onte. in fancy still I clearly
Can picture thee.
With gentle hand I lu\c to stroke thy hair.
And solace find while I am thee caressing- :
For then I breathe upon thy head a blessing
A voiceless j»rayer.
372 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
I who have watched thy childhood's rapture wild ;
May never more behold thy outward semblance ;
Yet thou wilt ever dwell in my remembrance,
My precious child !
'Tis sad that I who bore thee, may not mark
Thy progress; who once gloried in beholding
Thee daily, like a tender bud unfolding, —
For all is dark !
Why should I murmur till the teardrop starts ?
Oh, why from me should come this vain repining?
Affliction only is my soul refining —
Ere it departs.
And sorrow teaches ; as life's sun goes down,
We learn to know that while we are enduring'
Our earthly crosses, we are thus securing —
The promised crown !
This source of joy within my heart still springs.
And makes me meel<.er bear affliction's chastening,
That I have power to note thy soufs awakening-
To higfher thins's :
*?>'
'Tis granted me to help it to expand.
And this I find my sweetest consolation, —
To point for thee, beyond earth's tribulation-
The Better Land.
Where, with the veil uplifted from my eyes.
Our earth-life finished, like a well-told story
I shall again behold my child in giory, —
Beyond the skies !
lDESPONt>ENCY.
One by one, the le^ives are falling,
Lifeless, from that old ash tree ;
Sweeping earthward, with a rustle,
Bringing mem'ries sad to me.
PROMISCUOUS PIKCKS. 373
One by 0!ir my hopes are fadinfi'.
I.iku a g-lorious summer day —
Hopes that once so fondly beckoned.
Melt in shadows far away.
One b\- one my dreams are dyin<i".
Dreams that wrapt my g"irlhood's years.
With a mantle bri^'ht and spotless.
Now alas 1 dissolve in tears.
One by one have friends dej^arted.
They the Golden Gates have won ;
Left me on the dreary roadway.
Toiling" "neath the mid-day sun.
Year by year my youth is passing-,
Ag^e is waiting" for me now.
With his shining locks of silver.
And a furrow for my brow.
Things that I have treasured dearly.
All that I once used to prize,
Like the morning" mists have drifted —
Floated from before mine eyes.
I have hugfgfed them fondly to me- —
Nursed them long, but they have fled :
All my day-dreams are illusions —
Numbered with the silent dead.
1 las mv life been blank and aimless.
Have I lived, yet lived for naught .•'
Has Ambition mocked my footsteps.
Has it raised one lofty thought ?
Does it pave the road to fortune .-
Once I used to think it must:
Now mcthinks its light misg"uiding.
It but sprinkles g-litteringf dust.
Yet 'tis sweet to life's dull palate.
If some g^ood it but achieves;
I will forward look, and upward, —
Heavt^nly trust all pain relieves.
374 POKMS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
PICTUt^ES IH THE FIl^E.
" What see you in the fire ? "" he said.
•• What see you in the fire ? "
The maiden looked at the embers red,
She paused a moment then smiled, and said.
" There is much that I admire.
" I see the form of a maiden «fleam,
She is wearing a bridal crown ;
I see the sheen of a liquid stream,
And the flowers that grow beside it seem
To form her a beautiful g-own.
" The path before her is gay and wide,
It g"lows with an amber light :
And jewels are scattered on every side,
That are borne along- by the streamlet's tide,
And glitter resplendently bright.''
"What see you in the fire ? " said he.
" What see you in the fire .- "
From the maiden he turned to a boy at his knee,
Who steadfastly gazed, then a jjicture could see.
When he answered the old grand-sire : —
" i see amidst the ember's glow.
The form of a battle-field ;
1 see the quiver of lance and bow.
The friend and foe are there laid low,
And each soldier is wearing a shield.
" I see a ship upon the main,
Bearing the brunt of a gale ;
'Tis tost and lost, then seen again.
And I see the splash of hail and rain.
As it beats on every sail.''
''What see vot( in the fire .' '" said they,
" What see you in the fire ? " •
They asked the old man bent and grey.
He scanned the fire with ruddy ray.
Then gravely spoke the sire : —
PROMiscrors pikces. 375
"I see a dark, slovv-movinj^ Itand,
Bearinj;' a burden in woe ;
A life has run its golden sand,
I see the spot of sunny land
Where they will lay it low.
"And I can see the sable pall —
It droops in a shadowy wave;
While sunbeams ling-er over all —
And vveepingc willows o'er it fall-
Around the lonely grave.'
A so^l^lET.
Only a half-blown rose, and drooping- now :
What is its life .•* a frail ephemeral thing- ;
Delicious scent to those soft petals cling-,
Though in its moss-sheath its sweet head doth bow.
'! he odourous essence it exhales e'en now,
Must be its spirit, — that which we conserve,
Like our soul's inspirations ; we preserve
Live thoughts for future minds, when we sleep low.
Sweet dying- rose ! plucketi from its parent stem.
Its brief life filled a purpose ; it conveyed
Joy into two young hearts ; and thus to them
'Twill dear remain, when lieauty has decayed.
Besides the perfume in its crimson folds
This rose the secret of a life's love holds !
A OlAl^l^IACE ODE.
So fresh and sweet l)reaks the summer morning !
An index bright of the opening day ;
The daw n-tints linger aboxe the hill-tops.
And j)eriuiiie rich of the new-born llowers.
Is wafted round, as the zephyrs play.
376 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE OATES.
Two loving" hearts, that are intenvoven,
Shall ere the sunset, no more be twain ;
When once united in love-bonds holy —
Their nuptials loyally celebrated, —
No separate ways may they know again !
The love-shafts sent from the bow of Cupid,
Have deeply pierced to each fond young- heart ;
By mystic tendrils they're drawn together.
As time glides on may they cling" still closer.
Souls in affinity ne'er can part.
Each full of trust, they have trod one ptithway,
Throug'h fair elysian bowers of bliss :
Their troth is plighted, now they to Heaven,
Before the altar will vow allegiance ;
And seal the compact with love's own kiss.
Behold they come in their youthful glory.
True love encircles the hap|)y ] )air :
The sweet young bride in her maiden beauty.
With graceful form, in her bridal raiment.
Of lovely texture, as rich as fair.
Forth from the home that has known her girlhood,
She gaily steps, and with fearless feet ;
No more as maiden to cross its threshold.
With heart o'erflowing with memories tender.
Oh, may her wifehood hold joys as sweet !
A love alliance, with Heaven's sanction,
For white-robed Honour is with them there ;
The smiles of friends with their sweet approval,
Conveyed through gifts, with their heartfelt blessing,
Enhance the joy ot the hopeful pair.
Their rosy dreams will be consumated,
On paths untried they will hencciforth tread :
All looks propitious, then may their future.
Be all translucent, and both be faithful.
With never a cloud to loom o'erhead.
PROMISCUOrS IMECKS. 377
Hut oh, no pathway is i)a\e(l with roses.
Some l)ricrs ma)' spriiiy that we may not see ;
But each the other must ever cherish.
IMa)- both prove worthy in trust and honour.
I'hat g'olden circlet the plefl;4e must be.
At Hymen's throne as the pair are bowinji'.
I'wo fair-browed cherubs ui)on them wait:
Sweet Love and Hope, and they're linked tog"ether.
May these, when o'er is the solemn service,
Be staunch attendants what-eer their fate.
Oh I joyous bride, in his love confiding-,
May nau,g"ht the peace of thy heart destro\- ;
On him who won it thy hand bestowing-,
He will endow thee, and claim thee proudly.
May both drink deep from the font of joy !
A i^-ood mans love is a rich possession.
Such has been won by the pure young- bride ;
She charms us all ; and her fair young bridesmaids,
And favoured guests, on this marriage morning.
Regret that now she must leave their side.
Those who have nurtured their dark-eyed darling- -
The loving mother, the father dear;
The noble brothers, the gentle sisters
\\'ho love her fondl}-. we know will nii^s her.
For all looks brighter when she is near.
(lod guard you both ! He w ill ne'er forsake you.
If you but trust in His bounrlless lo\e :
Walk in His ways, through the opening vista.
He'll crown your happiness, bless your union.
Nor part you een when in Courts Above :
mV CHlLiDHOOD'S HOmE.
I'vK seen the home, the old, old home.
When once I used to dwell ;
The same lov'd house of long agii.
That knew me as a girl.
37^ POEMS BY CHARLOTTE DATES.
I've been within that dear old place,
So sacred unto me :
And thoughts that time can ne'er efface,
Crowd on my memory.
Imprinted deeply on my mind.
Remembrance of the past :
And little childish incidents.
Will haunt m.e to the last.
Each little nook recalled to me
Some long- past, childish scene, —
I seemed to live it o'er asfain.
Though years have rolled between.
Though others call it now their home,
And will in future time,
It is the same old place to me.
And .still I call it mine 1
The garden where I used to play,
Where Mother sweetly smiled;
Oh ! what would I not gi\e to-day,
To be once more a c-hild.
Come back, come back. \e days of old !
Come back, my childhood's hours I
And let me wander once ag-ain
Among the sweet wild flowers ;
And feel as once I used to feel,
When all the world seemed bright :
And day would come, and day would go.
.•\nd all was love and light.
<')h ! that I were a child again,
Within that dear old cot ;
Untutored by the hand of Time. —
And by the world forgot.
I'ROMISCLOrS PIECES. 379
THE OLiD mArl'S SOLiILiOQUY.
Whkre are the friends 1 used to know? —
I'he dear old ties of lony;" a 1,^0 ; —
In yonder church\ard sleeping' low,
Pas.sed away, passed away.
When I was young", my heart was light.
All things have changed that once were bright,
And joys that then were my delight —
Passed away, passed away.
1 pictured life without a care.
In glowing colours everywhere;
Now all that once seemed sweet and fair —
I^assed away, passed away.
Brown was my hair, and smooth my brow.
My form was straig^ht, I stooped not so
When I was young, I)ut youth has now
Passed away, passed away.
And now my locks are white as fleece.
And soon my life on earth will cease.
Then you will see me laid in peace —
Passed away, passed away.
Say, who will shed for nie a tear.
When I shall be no longer here .'
Not one ! for those that were so dear
Passed awiiy, passed away.
Pve seen the ups and downs of life,
Have known its troubles, cares and strife,
Long since my faithlul, loving wife.
Passed away, passed away.
My friends have left me. one by one.
Pm in tlii^ dreary world alone ;
For all those I have loved are gone,
Passed away, passed away.
How oft in evenings twilight gloom,
When I am sitting all alone.
The forms of loved ones "round me come —
Pass(^(l a.v ,n\ i)ass('d away.
38O' POEMS BY CHARLOTTE OATES.
Then if I listen I can liear
Sweet voices whisper in my ear,
FamiHar tones, so soft and clear —
Passed away, passed away.
I know my life will soon be oer,
I'm ready for the other Shore, —
To leave this earth for evermore, —
Pass away, pass away.
Yet I will trust my only Friend —
Wait in submission for my end,
When a gfood ang'el He will send, —
To bear me up to Heaven.
Upright, brave, and perse\ering".
Doing- what g'ood where-e'er he can
Willing- to assist his brothers.
There we see a noble man. —
Faithful in his every duty.
Prompt in acts of kindness, too :
Swayed by e\'ery g-enerous impulse.
Steady, trusty, courteous, true.
Such a man is well respected, —
Wins his fellows' deep reg-ard ;
And we find that he is honoured, —
Merit g-ets its due reward.
If, for sterling- worth, no g-uerdon
In return, on earth were g-iven,
God will see that every virtue
Has a just reward in Heaven.
THE HOt^SE.
Oh, noble creature, friend of man.
With thy bold prancing- stej) ;
He loves thee, with thy coat so sleek.
And arched and glossy neck.
PROMISCUOUS PIECES. 3<Sl
Tho' liberty may not be thine,
Yet where thou art not free,
May Mercy ever g-uide the hands
That hold a rein o'er thee.
Thou servest man. in peace and war.
Ye are oh, gallant .steed,
Companions in the battle field,
Where ye together bleed.
Sagacious, patient, docile beast!
These attributes are thine ;
Permitting man to curb thy will —
Imperious and (7ne.
Thy beautiful and flowing- mane,
Falls down like silken bands;
And decks thy graceful head so high,
Smoothed by thy master's hands.
Thy quiv'ring nostril now I see.
And wild, dilated eye,
That speaks of slumb'ring fire within —
A spirit firm and high.
Of all duml) creatures thou dost best
Befriend the human race;
Man's favourite, e.xcept his dog, —
Thou hast the foremost place.
And while with proud, majestic mien.
It ever is thy plan.
While conscious of superior strength.
To still sul)niit to man.
I D1=^EAmT SHE DIED 1^1
CHliiDHOOD."
I DKKA.MT that she died in childhood,
When her cares had not come near :
But her fair young cheeks were dail\-
Bedewed with a childish tear:
Called forth at the little troubles
Which sensitive children feel :
By the heartless harsh rebuker.
Who can wound but cannot heal.
382 - POEMS BY CHARLOTTE OATES.
In the spring-time of youth and beauty,
Her Hfe like an April day;
Ere childhood had merg-ed into girlhood.
I dreamt she had passed away.
With no one to sit beside her,
To watch the sweet spirit g'o :
Upward, to beautiful Heaven,
As pure as the falling- snow.
She had died alone, uncared for.
And left not a messag-e for me :
But they showed me her broken playthings,
And the cup she had used for her tea.
But they only heightened my sorrow,
And filled me with vain regret —
The grief at the separation,
When kindred hearts have met.
But I knew that her little sisters.
Who loved her with simple trust,
O'er her lowly grave would linger.
To weep o'er their sister's dust.
For one by one she had nursed them,
As she sat in her little chair;
And I knew they would miss their sister,
With her tender, motherly care.
For I dreamt that the child was sleeping —
That in Death's cold arms she lay —
And gone was her animation — ■
For her soul had flitted away.
I should never see her near me,
With gentle childish grace ;
Nor watch the light and shadow
Pass over her sweet young face.
For I've often watched her features,
When she thought I did not see;
While her little hand so slender,
I had clasped upon my knee.
I'KOMISClorS I'IKCKS. 38}
And even' fresh expression.
I could read as in a hook ;
One moment she was sullen.
With a pleading- pouting' look :
And then a smile so transient.
O'erspread her thoug^htful I now ;
And lit up ever)' feature,
Till her lace seemefl all aglow.
Thus I grew to lo\e ln-r dearly,
Yet I dreamt that she was dead^
To the Land of the white-robed ang^els.
Her soul had for i-ver fled.
THE ITALilAJSi BOY.
A CHILD from Jtaliii stoofl in the gfay throng', —
I noticed him there as I saunterM along- :
He fingered a harp as he sung- a sad lay.
( )f his own native country, so far far awa\\
And then he repeated the song- once again.
in his own native tongue, in a sweet (hildish strain :
And beseechingly looked up to all passers-by.
With lustrous brown eyes, that were jiensive and sh\ .
When he gfot no reward, tlicn he sung- it oncre more.
Till his \oice became husky with singing- it o'er:
How he longed lor a hanri that would drop him a mite.
1^'or perhaps he had nought with to purchase a bite.
Then he played a sad plaintive Italian air.
And his face wore i\ look oi distress and despair :
His hopes were all fled, and his heart knew no joy.
For they passed by unln-eded the ])Oor little bov.
They said that his harp was discordant to hear,-
That his voice sounded hoaist,- as it fell on the ear;
They ne'er gave a thought that all day he had sung-, —
Thiit his harp so untuneful was old and unstrung".
384 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
He looked so forlorn, in the g^rand busy street,
He could not with hope or with sympathy meet;
And ere the song- ended they wished him from there-
And told him they surely had "nothing; to spare.""
I pitied the child, from the depths of my heart,
For I saw how his tears were beg^inning- to start :
I gave him a trifle, he brig-htened with jo\' —
For it gladdened the heart of the poor little boy.
And then I was happy, my heart felt so light,
I wished that some others would each give a mite :
God notes them, and blesses each mite that is g-i\en.
For surely such acts are recorded in Heaven !
SmiLiES RfilD TER^S.
I SAW her smiling throug^h her tears,
Like sunshine after rain ;
She'd cast aside her passing- fears —
Was happy once ag'ain.
A cloud of grief had made them start,
Those gushing, pearly tears ;
They had their source at her young heart.
O'erwhelmed with doubts and fears.
Her eyes then glisten'd, like the flowers
With dewdrops covered o'er,
That nearly dimmed her youthful sight,
But soon she wept no more.
A gleam of radiant hope she felt.
The darkness turn'd to light,
Her sorrow then began to melt,
She once ag-ain was bright,
I thought it was a lovely sight,
Those smiles and tears combined ;
Like day thiit follows after night,
And clouds with silver lined.
I'KOMISCrOUS PIF.CES. 385
How soon aufain the youns" are g'ay !
And soon forget their i,''rief ;
'I^he smile had chased the tears away,
And hope had broui.'^ht rehef.
A GOOD SOH.
Ou, where is there a holier sig-ht
Than a mother and her son,
Whose hearts in fondest love unite ?-
1 answer, there is none I —
There is no sweeter si.^^ht on earth
Than a kind attentive hoy ;
Who appreciates his mother's worth,
He is her heart's best joy.
I know a .i^ood. devoted son,
Who loves his mother dear ;
For her would give his life so youngf,
She loves to have him near.
'Tis sweet to see him bending- o'er
To kiss his mothers cheeks;
As years steal on, he loves her more,
Her presence oft he seeks.
Anticipates her every wish.
And helps her all he can ;
Know, when you see a boy like this.
Hell make a noble man.
Tis pleasing- in the sight of God,
Such tender, filial love ;
Such liO}s will find a just reward,
In hapjiy Heaven above.
386 P0E3IS BY CHARLOTTK OAIKS.
Olit) LiETTEt^S.
I SAT alone in my parlour to-day,
The wind wailed low, and the sky was Ji^rey :
I felt despondent, and weary, and sad, —
And thought that nothing- could make me g'lad.
Then Memory conjured up for me.
Old faces I never again may see ;
For 1 thought of every absent friend,
And of the missives that kind hearts send.
I sought a pile of my letters then,
Written by many a friendly pen ;
I had them carefully treasured away,
And oh, the}- gladdened my heart to-da\ !
Though only a packet of letters old,
They'll speak when the hands that traced them are cold ;;
What though the paper is yellow and worn.
And every fold is now soiled and torn ; —
What though the ink is faded and gre}.—
I'll cherish them still, for many a day.
As I read, vague fig'ures seemed stealing near. —
The forms of my friends, that are loved and dc;ir :
1 felt not alone in the parlour dim.
For Fancy had summoned their spirits in.
One note that I jn-ize, and have not its compeer, — ■
Was sent by a Lady we all must revere ; —
So noble and good, exhalted and grand —
Whose name is honoured in every kind.
There is one that came from a lowly cot.
I value it too. and would part with it not:
Ihough but from a peasant of humblest I/iiIIt.
Its every word is of comfort and worth.
Some bring the writers before my eyes.
The thoughts they have written I dearly prize :
And some by strangers to me were sent,
Whose hearts on the kindest thoughts intent,
]Jictate(l those missives I proudly own.
What though their writers 1 never have known.
Some letters a masculine hand betray,
'{'he characters bold, a freedom display:
I'KOMISCLOIS riKCKS. 387
Some from their grace and their beauty are suth.
That reveal a feminine, delicate touch.
And some in a well-fuinied hand refined,
Bear words that came from a master mind.
While some are traced in an unformed hand.
L'ncertain, unsteady, the characters stand ;
Some being- too large, and others too small, —
A child's frail trembling", and blotted scrawl.
Some came from the other side of the globe—
From a land that wears a flowery robe ;
Where the southern cross hang-s high above,
And brightly beams upon one I love :
They form the links of a precious chain.
Across the blue and expansive main,
Connecting one in that beautiful clime,
Though far away, with this bosom of mine.
And some in a friend's confiding strain.
Seem seeking solace as they complain ;
Sad thoughts and feelings to me the\ impart.
y\nd lay before me a grie\ing heart.
And some are full of glad words of cheer.
To help me along life's pathway drear; —
A sweet reward for some effort of mine.
That made the light of their friendship shine.
Who says thiit a letter is a worthless tiling.^—
Kre I tied them again with a silken string.
In the gloom of my heart I hey had cast a ray :
And 1 stored them again for a future daw
HOT FORGOTTEN
I MISS a form that once was wont,
To greet me in a tender tone :
A gentle girl with serious face,
And none can ever fill her place
Who died and left me here aloin'
Of all my hopes she was the font,
I miss her still, — I miss her still.
388 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE OATES.
Had she but lived ! oh, who can tell
The joys my later life had known ?
A happier fate mine then had been :
Oh ! could my ano;el but have seen
My sorrow now, she had not flown ;
If she had lived all now were well : —
Oh ! had she lived, — oh, had she lived !
Could she have lived and known the love,
I bore for her, and still must bear;
She cannot see this stricken heart,
Nor know what pain it cost to part,
And this is now my daily prayer.
That I may meet with her Above,
And live for aye, — and live for aye.
Why did she go ? when her young; life
Was just expanding to our view ;
When in her first fresh glow of youth,
The sweetest child of faith and truth, —
To whom the world was fair and new ;
Nor recked she of its sin and strife, —
Why did she go, — why did she go?
I love the mound where she is laid, —
A sacred link 'twixt me and Heaven ;
Too early she was called to rest,
But sorrow all too soon had prest
Its seal upon her heart, and riven
Her cherished hopes, oh ! had she stayed, —
What joys were mine, what joys were mine I
The changing seasons come and go.
And still this saddened heart must beat.
Through Springtime with its buds and showers.
And Summer with its w^ealth of flowers ;
Through golden Autumn, rich and sweet.
And dreary Winter white with snow,
I must live on, — I must live on.
She cannot come again, and yet
Her spirit sometimes hovers near;
Her soul and mine a moment meet,
I'ROMISCUOIS PIECES. ^^<)
And seem to hoM communion sweet.
Which only makes the past more dear :
In sacred, loving- memories set. —
To come no more,— to come no mow '.
And though she ne'er will bless my siji'ht.
Tis vain to f|UPstion God's decree;
The children's King-dom holds her now.
And garlands wreathe her sainted brow.
Such bliss as hers is not fur me.
Till I shall see Eternal light,
And join her There, — and join her There.
THE POET'S PUEASUf^E.
Oh I who can rob him of that inward power —
A gift of Nature to a favoured few ;
They pity him ! — ah, if they only knew
Mis pleasure in one single lonely hour I
Then they would pity not, but rather crave
The independence of the poet's life ;
Removed apart, nor mingles with the strife, —
His years one dream from cradle to the grave.
His Muse attends him through life's varied page;
Set in the soul, and like a shining star.
Diffuses light^ — thus he can see afar.
And stamp his ideals for an after age.
If all the world is cold to him : he finds
In solitude a secret solace, where,
Renouncing all things worl lly, calml\- there
Pours out his pent-up feelings to the winds.
The lofty insi)irations ot the soul
Surround him at the silent midnight hour :
As there, within his solitary bower.
His genius spreads its charm 'neath his c()ntrol.
Sublime interpreter of Nature, he
P)rings forth her beauties to the common eve ;
Her praise to unobservers singeth high. —
Pthereal charms that none but bards can see.
390 POKMS UV CHARLOTTK GATES.
What though aloof, unto the world he sing-s —
Unto a thousand of his fellow-men ;
The heart unburdened speaketh through the pen,
The inmost feeling's of his breast he fling's,
On every side, nor cares he what we think,
Descries a treasure in his path each day ;
His thoughts o'erflow, his vision soars away,
He finds relief in paper and in ink !
And thus he lights the weary gloom of night.
He toileth with a pleasure unalloyed ;
What strikes him then to be by us enjoyed.
Henceforth indelible, when he hath ta'eii his flight.
When he departs — and not till then — we see
The precious gift that he hath left behind :
A legacy immortal is enshrined
In all his works. — we bless his memory.
Ambitious not for riches or for fame,
He loves his art, and there his pleasure lies —
In doing his work, and only when he dies,
A glorious halo clings around his name.
OXjPi GRLiLifljMT PIJ^E St^IGRtDES.
(tod bless the firemen of our land,
Where ever they may be ;
I'hese men to whom we owe so much,
Whose daring deeds we see :
They quench the flames so fierce and grand.
The dauntless firemen of our land.
Who. when the awful signal sounds,
Are ready at the call,
To face the furious scorching fire,
Which others would appal —
They (|uench the flames so fierce and grand.
The dauntless firemen of our land.
PKO.MISCLOIS I'IKCKS. 3CJI
In huiUUnt^s, when the curling' flames
Would soon destroy the spot.
The service rendered h\' these men.
Will never he forg-ot.
They (juench the flames so fierce and granil.
The dauntless firemen of our land.
They snatch us lives and jjroperty
From out the lurid blaze ;
They cope with that great element.
Oh ! let us sound their praise : —
'['hey quench the flames so fierce and gran<l,
The dauntless firemen of our land.
With daring agile steps, they mount
To places insecure ;
"Mid suff"ocating smoke and steam.
Are trials that they endure :
They quench th(- flames so fierce and grand.
The dauntless firemen of our land.
And oft with danger to themselves,
That tries the valiant heart :
As flames advance, each gathers strength.
And does his noble part.
They fjuench the fiames so fierce and grand.
The dauntless firi'men of our land.
What gratitude musi till the hearts
Of all whom they have saved I
For those who snatched them from the blaze.
For them the danger braved I
They quench the flames so fierce and grand,
The dauntless firemen of our land.
Yes, many fellow creatures' lives
Are to the firemen due, —
What could we do without the brave.
The noble, and the true .' —
Then let us swell the chorus grand.
God bless the firemen of our land I
392 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE GATES.
IiII^ES O^ SBBIfiC Rfi fll^TIST
Behold it forming-, by his skilful hand,
As if by magic, how it gfrows beneath
That master's touch ; till forms and figures stand,
As if in life, upon the purple heath :
Till on the canvas, once so blank and bare.
That waited for a g^enius to adorn,
Appears a host of men, who g^azing; there.
Await the opening- of the rosy morn.
Each one instinct with life, the picture g-lows
With warmest tints, and all to nature true ;
While yonder stream that in the background flows,
Reflects the sky's own brilliant azure hue.
And when 'tis done, we g-aze with wonder on
The mig-hty work, that eloc}uently speaks ;
Our lips unsought, will frame the words " well done ! "
To see the life-blood seem to ting-e the cheeks:
And Raphael's power could not more beauteous make,
Each well-formed face, defined with shade and light;
And lustrous eyes, that gazing-, seem to wake —
And look out from the canvas, warm and bright.
To life so faithful — subject fully grasped ;
Each face consulted, tells its separate tale ;
True genius close to Nature's self is clasped —
Its power can charm when other arts will fail.
O painter toil! reflect the human heart,
In all its phases on the canvas there,
Pourtrayed in visage, and display thine art, —
Depict us scenes with all thy grace and care.
SKV-TIflTS.
Blood-red the sky at sunset shone ;
'Twas one immense illumined field
Of splendour, stretched from East to West,-
A gorgeous ruby. Flaming wreaths
PROMISCUOUS PIKCES. 393
Spread briy^^ht o'erhead, like ripplingf waves,
Then melted soft in distance dim,
In one grand lurid, \ast expanse,
Of boundless firmament. Until
The whole ijfrew crimson-tinted far
As eyes could sec. Then came a chan,u<- ;
A brilliant amber light appeared,
That mingling" with cerulean hue,
P'ormed l)rightest green. These rainbow tints
Shone in the West, so clear and brig-ht.
Like gleaming- bands of vivid shades.
The western sky resembled then
A beautiful emblazoned plain :
With colours rich together blent.
That seemed to cast a glow on earth :
A few brief moments, then they g^rew
Less vivid as the night stole on.
Soft and fainter still, then merg-ed
Into a dusky g-olden-g^rey :
The opal-tinted light had gone, —
Died in the heavens, like a sweet dream :
We know not whence it came, nor know
To where it goes. We only know
It fades away all unperceived.
Into the deep mysterious realms
h^thereal bright. Such brilliant skies
Are elo({uent ; for they portend
That tempests soon will smite the earth !
mODEl^^l SOCIETY.
Thk more I see of this strange world.
The mort^ a niysten- 'tis to me :
All world!)- people whom I meet.
Unsolved enigmas seem to be.
I cannot understand their ways.
Their aims are all outside my reach ;
Amazed, I watch the far-off throng. -
Learn lessons stern, some lives can teach.
394 POEMS BY c:harlotte gates.
Upon the surface thing-s appear,
To be so honest, fair, and bright;
But underneath it, lurks I fear,
A depth of sin, ne'er brought to light.
A charming, pleasant, winning front,
Towards our view too oft is turned ;
Behind the outward guise sometimes.
Lie hearts, that if laid bare, were spurned.
The fleeting glimpses I can get,
Of modern life, reveal to me,
That where one would the least expect.
Are grave defects, so hard to see.
Smooth-tongued dissemblers smile at wrongs.
And smother conscience in their youth ;
They freely flaunt at Pleasure's feet,
Unknown to guileless realms of truth.
& "
I sadly fear that in our midst.
Some uncurbed social evils sleep ;
All winked at by the world at large,
O'er which strict Virtue well might weep.
My nature cannot keep in touch.
With those I find are insincere ;
While frivolous ones I would avoid,
Commend me to affection's tear.
Palse pride, and artificial show.
The worldly ways of life beset ;
With empty cant are others marred,
What class were all found perfect yet ?
'J'he world consists of sharps and flats,
All complicated airs to me.
In minor strains ; 1 would that more
Were in a simple major key.
With no discordant blatant tones.
The sweet harmonious notes to mar ;
All cheerful strains of peace and love,
That on the senses never jar.
I'KOMisdurs I'iKcKS. ^O;
1 , — unsof)hi.sticrate(l ~ search
Si)me '*\\orl(llinjjfs' "' faces [ have met :
And there I try to read their hearts.
But ne'er have been successful yet.
Both ^^ood and ill are always hli-nt
In human nature, know we well :
In some projjortion : but sometimes
The gilt from yold is hard to tell.
I seek for rt'ol yood sterling- worth.
This would I ever fain pursue;
Kind, constant, faithful, trusty hearts.
That in ofriefs liour are staunch and true.
And these sometimes Ive thoui.;ht I'd found,
While fondly in them 1 believed.
And |)rized them till my hopes were crushed,
On tindinji" 1 had been deceived.
The o-ravest faults sometimes lie hid,
'Neath thin veneering", all for show:
Deceit, vaing-lory, artful shams.
Some fair exteriors lay below.
A heart wherein one could repose
The fullest trust, 1 fain would find :
But selfish, hollow, and untrue.
The worldly are, soul, heart and mind .'
If folks were only what they seem.
I'd cliny to those 1 thought the best :
But having- some unworthy proved,
Makes me less trustful of the rest.
'Tis not for me to pierce the veil
That covers social errors o'er;
Thank God that I can live apart
From scenes that I must needs deplore I
I find this problem hard to solve.
To tell the false ones from the true ;
The counterfeit from jiurest g"ems.
For baseness holds a power undue.
396 POEMS BY CHARLOTTE OATES.
I'll g"ive it up ! and keep aloof,
As heretofore, from pomp and strife ;
Content to live as Nature's child,
A happy and secluded life.
TO A BRIDE.
Merry sounds, and g"olden sunlight,
Greet thee on thy bridal morn ;
As thy loving- friends surround thee,
Offerings g-ay to thee are borne.
Friends will with thee be in spirit.
Who may never cross the main ;
Winds will waft thee their good wishes
Thoug-h ye may not meet again.
Bright as an Arcadian bower.
May th}' future home be there ; —
Sweet to thee as spring's first flower, —
Like the snowdrop pure and fair.
May thy Southern home be happy.
An Elysium be to thee ;
Mid thy joys yet think of England,
And thy friends across the sea.
One who knew thee as a maiden —
Revelled in thy friendship's giow ;
Sighs amid the glad rejoirings.
That we must be parted now.
Like two streamlets in the woodlands.
For a time run side by side;
Then each separate course diverges.
Till at last they're severe! wide.
So two lives may run together, —
Know each other's hopes and fears :
For a time, then at an angle,
Drift apart with smiles and tears.
I'KOMiscrors pikj i s. 397
nft we see that winsome Cuplr],
Turns life's streamlet ijy and bye ;
While his soft electric g'lances,
Dart across from eye to eye.
Friends who cannot here salute thee.
Fondly wish thouj^-h far away ;
That a thousand blessini^s crown thee,
On thy glorious nuptial day.
A|^ OPTimiSTIC PROPHECY.
It is coniini;-, it is coming-, I can see it from afar,
With a gloriole around it, in a g-rand triumphal car I
Superstition mars its progress, ijut that crumbles to
decay.
And as light falls on the Nations, then will Wisdom clear
the way.
It is comings in the distance, just a speck beyond the bars:
It is mirrored in the future, it is whispered by the stars.
It will stifle brutal instincts, — give the soul a wider scope.
For it even through the present weaves a g'olden thread
of hope.
Then in that bright Utopia, Peace's banner being
unfurled.
Oh, a better type of manhood, will rise up to grace the
world.
It will rule the mighty Rulers, — to an epoch new give
birth :
And the arch-fiends. War, and Carnage, it will sweep
from off the earth ! —
Make those hideous cruel monsters all their awful fangs
release,
And no gore-taint stain the glory neath th.> IxTiison of
Peace.
Tt will win us bloodless \ict'ries, when it sways the
Empires vast ;
All that tarnished old-lime glory w ill be buried with the
past.
398 POEMS J!V CHAKLOTTK GATES.
For the World we know is waiting- for the mighty grand
reform,
That will tranquillize all rancour, nor with war-drum's
fierce alarm.
Thoug-h this century be closing" to the sound of war-
whoops wild,
In the next one. Federation, will be nuised a precious
child :—
That will pnne an untold blessing, as the century rolls
along,
And its birth be kept by millions, in a grand triumphant
song I
As the century advances, it will hold a foremost place;
It will glorify the Universe, —ennoble every race.
Then the cannon shall be rusty, and the sword lie in its
sheath ;
And for gh£istlv deeds of slaughter, man shall wear no
glory wreath ; —
Nor for heaping mangled bodies upon fields of reeking'
gore :
All war's horrors, and its tortures, shall belong to days
of yore !
For behold ! a vital atom has by God's grace now been
sown.
And an Universal Brotht^rhoc^d. will the world in future
own !
And the life-germ now ups|iringing. will arise a beateous
flower.
Fre the century before us has attained its noon-tide's
power.
All the future is rrs])lendenl. with ;i. bright auriferous
light.
Till this age but seems by contrast, just emerging from
the night :
Jt invests the li\ing present with a clear prophetic glow.
Like the flush before the sunrise, and the light from new-
ilropt snow.
Ihc World-chosen Mediators, will all Nations' rights
secure.
And a Court of .Arbitration, will maintain our honour
pure.
PROMISCUOUS PIECKS. 391^
For behold ! this Federation shall ihv WorJil with new
life tinj^'^e,
When the gates of Peace's Temple shall swing- wide on
golden hinge I
For the Universe 'twill girdle, — all the Nations hind in
love,
And to seal the mighty compact, twill be blest by (tod
Above :
VflliEDlCTIOH
I THAMc you all, my dearest friends,
For list'ning to my lays ;
Some penn'd in grief, and some in mirth.
The fruit of early da}'s.
And culled from little incidents,
That crossed my dail\- life,
And called up vi\id i^ictures.
Of outside worldl}' strife.
And from my youth's aspiring thoughts —
Romantic though they were :
Born in the morning-time of life.
When all the world seems fair.
And more than all, from nature sweet.
In all its forms and ways;
'Twas it that first inspired my muse
In those my early days.
It struck a chord within my soul.
Laid dormant until then ;
It stirred a latent power within.
And bade me wield ni)- pen !
And therefore I i:)resent to you.
These simple, little poems ;
I feel I have your sympathy —
Each one in friendship joins.
I ho|)e that when you read them o'er.
You'll reail them once again ;
They may perchance, cheer some dull hour
Of those who are in pain.
400
POEMS BY CHARLOTTE OATES.
And those who do not know me well,
Shall know me throui2;'h this book ;
Ah, e'en as well as though they knew,
My ev'ry word and look.
I wish it were more worthy ot
The kindness that you show ;
1 hope its merit will repay,
The labour you bestow,
In taking this my humble work.
To at your leisure read :
But I have done my best to please,
The will take for the deed.
Perchance, I'll tune the Ij're again
For you in future years —
Or I may then have passed away,
Amid your friendly tears.
And now good-bye — my dearest friends,
To you this book I've given —
And if I see you not on earth,
We all mav meet in Heaven.
i^^-S^
■ - SL
J. S. JoothUl, rnnter, 71, Godwin Street, Bradford.
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Fearnley, Mrs. J. ^
Fenton, R. J.
Farrar, Mrs.
*Greenwood, Mrs. A K'
Gill. Miss
Greenwood, Harry
Hardv, Laurence, M.P.
Holdsworth, Aid. Wm , J.P.
Hilliam, Dr. W. P.
Hains worth, Lewis
Hardwick, Mrs. J.
Hardy, Richard
Hind, Mrs. I.
Hind, Fred
Hodgson, Mrs. S.
Henshaw, Miss
Henshaw, Miss H.
Hanson, Miss
Henderson, Thomas
Hitchin, Edmund
Hoyle, Mrs.
Hodgson, Jeremiah
Hodgson, Miss F.
Hartley, Miss E
Harper, John
Hall, Mrs. W.
Hudson, Joseph
Hilton, Mrs.
Hirst, Miss E.
Holdsworth, Mrs.
Halstead, Mrs.
Hargreaves, Mrs.
Hirst, Mrs. M.
Hanson, Mrs.
Holden, Mrs.
Haigh, Ben
Halifax Public Free Library (per
J. Whitelev, Chief Librarian)
Harold Club, Low Moor (perT. W.
Whiteley, Librarian)
lUingworth, William
jowett, J. H.
Jackson, Mrs.
Kellett, Mrs. S.
Kcighley, Miss H. A.
Knowles, Arthur
Kellett, 1).
Kellett, F
Keft'ord, Thomas
Kay, Mrs W. H.
Logan, Dr. T., M.D.
Lister. Wm. C. C.
Ll.sr Ol' l'AIK(>\>
Laycock, Henry
I.if;hto\vler, Miss S.
Lund, Henry
Millisan. F. W.
Aldorhouse, J. B.
Mallinson, Hanson
Maude, John
Mitchell, Miss M
Myers, John
Navior. Dr. J. H.
North, Mrs. J. S.
Nay lor, Mrs.
North, Mrs.
Uates, J. W.
Ollerenshaw, Mrs. H
Oddy, Herbert
Oates, Benjamin
•Gates. Miss S. E
Oates, Herbert
Oates, Ernest
Orrell, Wm.
Poynton, Rev. J
Priestley, Enoch, J. F
I'yrah, James
Potter, Miss E.
Pa^et, Mrs.
Priestley, M. A.
Robinson, Dr. AH
Rushworth, Mrs.
Rhodes, Richard
Rhodes, Bethel
Rhodes, Fred
Rayner, Mrs.
Ramsden, Miss
Robertshaw, Richard
Robinson, Joseph
Rhodes, Mrs T.
Rayiier, (}odfre\
Rushworth, Miss
•Smith, Enoch, J.l
*Sharp, James
Smyth, Mrs. N.
•Snowball, Thoma-N
'Stakes, Jesse
Smith, Aid. W
•Sharp, Mrs. J.
Sutclifle, Mrs.
Simpson, Mrs
•Smith, Edmund
Sharp, Mrs Jno.
Schofield, Miss
Seed. Benjamin
Smith, Tom
Seatfjn, Moses
Sucksmith, Miss S.
Sudden, Mrs.
Smith, Mrs.
Shaw, Thomas
Scott, J. P.
Spencer, Miss
Surbuts, W. H.
Sucksmith, Miss M.
Shaw. Mrs.
Smith, Miss
Su,;i:den, J. W
Siddal, Mrs.
Spencer, Mrs.
Schoheld, Mrs.
•Tordoft, Jonathan
Turnbull, Mrs. M.
Thornton, Joseph
Thompson, Mrs.
Toidoff, Mrs. J.
•Uttley. Thos. F.
•Whittaker. T. P., MP
Wavman, Thos., MP
•Wickham. R. W.
•Wright, Samuel
•Woodcock. H. B.
Whiteley, Geo., C.C
Ward, Coun. J.
Weeder. Wm , L D.S.
Weeder, Mrs J.
Wavell, E. M.
Wood head, .\ If red
Wilson. Mrs.
Whitteron. Mrs
Wilians, J. W
Warburton, Mrs.
Whittaker, Joseph
LIST OF PATKOXS.
Wilson, Miss
Whitley, Miss C.
Worsnop, R. W.
Woodcock, J. M.
White, Edwin
WOodhead, Miss
Wright, Mrs. D.
Wood, Mrs. H.
Wood, D.
Wilson, William
Woodhead, Mrs, K.
Wells, Miss
Wright, Mrs.
Womerslev, John
Wilks, Miss
Woodcock, Smith
Worsnop, Miss M. J.
Whittaker, Mrs.
Womersley, Miss
Wilson, Miss E.
Wood, John
Wells, Mrs. F.
Woodhead, Miss L.
Wrigglesworth, John
Womersley, Mrs. F.
Warbrick, Miss
Wilson, Miss H.
Woodcock, T. W.
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