<s<git^ 
 
POEMS 
 
 MRS. LOUISA H. NICHOLLS 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 
 C. S. FEAXCIS AXD COMPANY 
 
 554 B R O A D W A Y. 
 
 1857. 
 
MAULIB. 
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1S5", 
 
 By C. S. Francis and Company, 
 
 In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the 
 
 Southern District of New York. 
 
9?3 
 Mai- 
 ls 51 
 
 TO 
 
 FEANCIS E. TILLOU, Esq., 
 
 EARLY FRIEND OF OUR MOTHER, 
 
 Sijes* fl0£ttt0 
 
 ARE AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED 
 
 BY HER CHILDREN 
 
 500 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 DEDICATION OF " EYE," — A POEM 1 
 
 EYE 3 
 
 VICTORIA. WRITTEN WHEN VICTOEIA BECAME QUEEN OF 
 
 ENGLAND 25 
 
 woman's LOVE 34 
 
 TO ZEPHYE 37 
 
 LINES TO EDWIN • 39 
 
 TO MY DEAEEST FEIEND 40 
 
 TO A SCEPTIC 42 
 
 LINES FOE NEW TBAk's DAY 48 
 
 TO MY COUNTEY, ON THE FOURTH OF JULY 50 
 
 HYMN 53 
 
 HYMN. ON THE OCCASION OF THE FIRST CELEBRATION OF 
 
 THANKSGIVING, IN LOUISIANA 55 
 
 ON EEADING TAYLOR'S DIEGESIS 57 
 
 AMEEICAN BATTLE SONG 59 
 
 HUMAN ASPIRATIONS 01 
 
 ON THE PROSPECT OF A WAR WITH GREAT BEITAIN 67 
 
viii CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 TO GENERAL JACKSON, IN ANTICIPATION OF HIS VISIT TO 
 
 LOUISIANA IN 1828 69 
 
 REQUIEM ON TIIE DEATH OF JACKSON 72 
 
 TO MY COUNTRY, DURING THE TROUBLES IN SOUTn CAROLINA 73 
 TO MY COUNTRY, WRITTEN AT THE SAME TIME WITn THE 
 
 PRECEDING T* 
 
 TO DEATH 80 
 
 ANNO DOMINI '36 $2 
 
 A "WIFE TO HER HUSBAND IN ADVERSITY 86 
 
 SO 
 
 GREECE °° 
 
 LINES WRITTEN AT FIFTEEN 93 
 
 TO ISABELLA ^° 
 
 TO MY SONS, ON GOING TO THE RESCUE OF GENERAL TAYLOR 96 
 
 OLD BUSTLE HALL 98 
 
 TO MY ELDEST SON, RETURNING FROM THE ARMY 100 
 
 A MOTHER TO HER SONS ON TnEIR MARRIAGE 104 
 
 MY LITTLE GRANDSON. A FRAGMENT 107 
 
 TO MY MUSE 109 
 
DEDICATION OF "EYE,' 
 
 A POEM. 
 
 &0 (fHueen bictoria. 
 
 While myriads throng around Victoria's throne, 
 I, too, the impulse of that throng do own. 
 E'en though the wide Atlantic roll between 
 Columbia's daughter and Britannia's Queen. 
 
 What, though my liege thou art not, still thou art 
 My sister woman. And my woman's heart 
 Would testify the pleasure and the pride, 
 With which I see thee o'er a state preside, 
 A mighty nation's chief. Of jewels bright, 
 That charm the eye and court the eager sight, 
 I've none to give. From fancy's fairy bowers 
 I cull for thee a garland of wild flowers, 
 And at thy feet the simple wreath I lay 
 
An offering of the heart, that I do pay, 
 Not unto England's sovereign lady. Nay, 
 But which with reverence meet, I proffer thee, 
 As woman clothed in might and majesty. 
 Then, royal lady, from my hand receive 
 The touching story of our mother Eve. 
 I sing the lovely mother of our race, 
 Her birth divine, her glorious dwelling-place. 
 Roll back, old Time, and show us Nature's morn, 
 Creation perfect, and her queen new-born. 
 Show us of paradise the bright array ; 
 Present us Eve, as at his feet she lay, 
 Jehovah's feet in vestal purity, 
 Breathing of heaven and immortality. 
 Withdraw the curtain, to our spirit show, 
 The foe of God, of man, the deadly foe, 
 Who erst the flowery fields of Eden trod, 
 And found our mother in her blest abode, 
 And reft her of her innocence and God. 
 
EYE. 
 
 Creation is finished, her last work is wrought, 
 And the mother of man to existence is brought. 
 He rests from his labors, his plan is complete, 
 And radiant in beauty, she lies at his feet. 
 Well pleased, he beholds her, his image divine 
 Is stamped on each trait of the beautiful shrine, 
 Kot his likeness in Adam, on whose sterner face 
 The dread God of justice and vengeance, we trace. 
 For the angels of darkness, had left on his brow 
 A shadow of wrath, which had fled from it now. 
 The cloud had passed over, no mark of his ire 
 Now ruffled his spirit, or darkened its fire, 
 But refulgent in beauty, and mercy alone, 
 The immaculate God, in his purity shone : 
 The light of his countenance falls on her face, 
 Which reflects back his glory and mirrors his 
 
EVE. 
 
 His majesty sits on her forehead of snow, 
 Where honor and truth in their radiance glow, 
 Her beautiful eyes, his expression have caught. 
 They are full of intelligence, feeling and thought, 
 Shall we 'maze at their lustre ? behold they have 
 
 won 
 Their beams from the spirit that kindled the sun. 
 Then her mouth, oh! that mouth, its ineffable 
 
 smile 
 Is his own, when he blesses, creation, the while ! 
 That he colors her rainbow and painteth her 
 
 flowers, 
 And flavors the fruits which embellish her bowers. 
 So sweet, so benignant, so void of all guile, 
 Is the love-breathing mouth with its heavenly 
 
 smile. 
 Her ivory form in its symmetry lay, 
 Half hid by her tresses, that witchingly play 
 O'er the delicate cheek, and the forehead of snow. 
 And veil the fair neck, and the bosom below : 
 That exquisite bosom, that beautiful breast, 
 Designed as a fountain and pillow of rest. 
 A fountain of love, whence streams shall arise 
 To nourish young cherubs and people the skies. 
 
EVE. O 
 
 Well pleased he surveys her, no blemish is seen 
 In form or in feature, expression or mien, 
 He touched her bright head, and softly impressed 
 A kiss on her brow, which he hallowed and blest. 
 Behold, I endow thee from heaven above, 
 With truth, holy faith, and immaculate love ; 
 Henceforth be my temple, then, glorious shrine, 
 And receive from thy Maker his spirit divine. 
 He bends o'er the image, its lips are apart, 
 And the breath of Jehovah hath entered her 
 
 heart. 
 The soul of the Deity moves through the frame, 
 And woman, dear woman, immortal became ! 
 
 'Tis midnight in Eden, the moon's lovely beams 
 Have brightened her bowers, and silvered her 
 
 streams ; 
 The night-blooming flowers their fragrance exhale, 
 And with their sweet odors have laden the gale, 
 Which sweeping in music its harmony weaves 
 And ripples the waters and rustles the leaves. 
 
6 EVE. 
 
 Who enters the garden at this solemn hour? 
 What step hath profaned its most sacred bower? 
 The bower of hymen, the chamber of love. 
 Or is it some spirit, that comes from above, 
 Commissioned o'er Eden his vigils to keep, 
 While wrapt in oblivion, its young inmates sleep? 
 Tis the fallen archangel! he comes in his wrath. 
 His errand is vengeance, his mission is death ! 
 He has sworn their destruction, and here is he 
 
 now, 
 His pledge to redeem, and accomplish his vow. 
 "And this then is Eden, and here is the race 
 To replenish waste heaven, and till up the space 
 Of my recreant host! 'Tis a marvellous plan, 
 Come, let us behold him, this paragon man. 
 But first render thanks to the powers divine, 
 For Heaven's new fav'rite henceforth shall be 
 
 mine ! 
 We'll divide him between us — I augur it well — 
 They may 'plenish their heaven, Fll people my 
 
 hell." 
 The drap'ry of roses, he softly withdrew, 
 And woman, fair woman ! encounters his view. 
 Proud Lucifer bends o'er her pillow of sod: 
 
EVE. 7 
 
 " 'Tis the smile of a seraph : the brow of a God ? 
 'Tis his, 'tis Jehovah's, 'tis the face of my Sire, 
 Ere sin and sedition had kindled his ire. 
 Let me kneel, let me kneel, an apostate no more, 
 Let me gaze on that brow, and lost heaven de- 
 plore !" 
 Remorseful a moment, fierce Lucifer stood, 
 By her beauty entranced, by her sweetness sub- 
 dued ! 
 Oh ! she is no image of vengeance and power, 
 She is pure as the dew, and as frail as the flower. 
 lie feels it is bliss in her presence to dwell, 
 Forgetful of heaven, regardless of hell. 
 While crouching beside her, inhaling her breath, 
 He forgets his dark scheme of seduction and 
 death. 
 How calmly she slumbers ! no shadow of care 
 Disturbs her repose, yet fancy is there, 
 With her gay fairy visions, dull sleep to beguile, 
 And dimples her cheek into many a smile. 
 Kow she bursts into laughter, sweet, musical, wild, 
 The joyous, spontaneous, laugh of a child. 
 O'er the couch of the dreamer, transported he 
 hung, 
 
8 EVE. 
 
 As the future and past, to oblivion he flung ; 
 
 To annihilate time, to annihilate space, 
 
 To dwell there forever in that happy place, 
 
 With the halo of heaven, around him, for there 
 
 Its purity, innocence, blessedness are. 
 
 Oh! thought the enamored, hadst thou but been 
 
 given, 
 I ne'er had revolted from virtue and heaven! 
 
 One beautiful arm, in its posture of rest, 
 Lay extended towards him ; his hot lips he pressed 
 On the delicate hand that recoiled from his breath, 
 And shrunk from his touch with an instinct of 
 death. 
 A pang of deep anguish, his soul overcame, 
 As he marked her blanched cheek and her shud- 
 dering frame ; 
 Like a dove from the fangs of an eagle that 
 
 springs, 
 Her arms round the neck of her husband she 
 
 flings ; 
 And, hiding her face in his bosom, she wept 
 Like an infant affrighted, then tranquilly slept. 
 New jealousy, hatred, and vengeance, and love, 
 The fiercest of passions for mastery strove. 
 
EVE. 9 
 
 " Thou neest from me, woman, in terror and hate, 
 Unknown thou abhor'st me, and cling'st to thy 
 
 mate : 
 Created for Adam, his doom shall be thine ; 
 Yet fain had' I spared thee, thou creature divine ; 
 So much of lost heaven, in thee did I trace, 
 So bright shone his image of love in thy face, 
 That hell was forgot, and I deemed for awhile, 
 That I dwelt in his presence and basked in his 
 
 smile. 
 The dreadful reality on me hath burst, 
 I am, yes I am, the condemned, the accurst, 
 The chief of apostates, the monarch of hell : 
 Then to love and to pity, forever farewell; 
 They suit not my purpose, they fit not my state. 
 Come all ye dark passions, that govern my fate ; 
 Come hatred, come vengeance, your task now 
 
 assign 
 Away with this struggle. Now, hell, I am 
 
 thine !" 
 
10 EVE. 
 
 'Tis morning in Eden: the sun's golden rays 
 Have burnished her mountains ; her cataracts blaze, 
 As in her bright rivers, their waters they pour, . 
 And peal the deep anthem to him they adore. 
 How fresh is the earth, and how gorgeous the 
 skies ! 
 They are painted in nature's most exquisite dyes. 
 The dew-drops, like diamonds, are glittering round, 
 All is beauty, and color, and motion, and sound. 
 With the herds on the pastures, the birds on the 
 
 wing, 
 Oh ! day is a bright and a glorious thing ! 
 But a sunrise in Eden, in vain would I sine:! 
 Then silence, my muse, nor presume to portray, 
 Suffice, it is morning, and Eden's last day. 
 
 She springs from her couch, and as light as a 
 fawn, 
 To lave her pure limbs in the fountain has gone. 
 She has bent the meek knee, she has bowed the 
 
 bright head, 
 To the source of her being, her orisons said, 
 And now to the bower is hurrying fast, 
 To waken her lord and prepare his repast. 
 
EVE. 11 
 
 " Why, Adam, dear Adam," she playfully cries, 
 " All nature has risen, thou sluggard, arise : 
 Come, Adam, dear Adam, enjoy the sweet hour; 
 Come, taste the rich fragrance that breathes from 
 
 the bower : 
 "With love and devotion each bosom is glowing, 
 To nature's great Author, all nature is bowing. 
 The butterfly wanders from flower to flower, 
 Pursuing enjoyment through each fleeting hour. 
 Adown the green meadows the silver tides 
 
 straying, 
 While on its fresh banks, the young lambkins 
 
 are playing: 
 Come, Adam, dear Adam, enjoy the sweet hour ; 
 Come, taste the rich fragrance that breathes from 
 
 the bower." 
 In vain, chanted Eve, for in slumber profound, 
 His spirit is wrapped, and his senses are bound. 
 
 Last wonder of nature ! dear mother of man : 
 Earth's brightest perfection, condemn thee who 
 
12 EVE. 
 
 I see thee, I see thee in paradise now, 
 
 With thy soul-beaming eyes, and thy radiant brow; 
 
 Thou art sitting alone in thy favorite bowers, 
 
 Weaving a garland of loveliest flowers. 
 
 The wreath thou hast hung on the neck of a fawn, 
 
 And art watching the doe, as she sports on the 
 
 lawn. 
 Now the dashing cascade has arrested thine eye, 
 Now the bloom of the earth, now the hues of 
 
 the sky. 
 Mark yon beautiful cloud, as it floats through the 
 
 air, 
 The tints of the rainbow are mingling there. 
 She deems it a couch, by the Deity spread, 
 For some wandering angel to pillow his head ; 
 Those kind guardian spirits who constantly rove 
 On errands of mercy, on missions of love. 
 Yes, nature is lovely, her dews and her flowers, 
 Her cool purling rills and her green shady bowers, 
 Her noble cascades and magnificent mountains, 
 Her forests and glades, with their grottoes and 
 
 fountains, 
 And lovely is night, when bright Cynthia appears, 
 A young crescent moon amidst myriads of stars ; 
 
EVE. 13 
 
 But lovelier she, who with eloquent smile, 
 On the works of her Maker sits musing the while ; 
 Whose soul-beaming face might to angels recall 
 The image of him who created them all. 
 
 His black wings are folded, his arms they are 
 
 crossed, 
 His eyes, all their terrible fierceness have lost; 
 His dark, troubled visage is haggard with care, 
 And marked by the deep sullen gloom of despair : 
 He hath sworn to seduce her from heaven and God, 
 He may not, he dare not, to forfeit his word; 
 For well does he know, that hell's turbulent crew, 
 Would exact its fulfilment, and claim it their due, 
 To strengthen their empire. From woman they 
 
 know, 
 
 That myriads of spirits immortal shall flow : 
 
 Of spirits immortal, forever to dwell, 
 
 The children of heaven, or inmates of hell. 
 
 They have heard of the mandate, the test of her 
 
 faith, 
 2 
 
14 EVE. 
 
 And Satan hath sworn in his vengeance and 
 
 wrath, 
 To seduce her from heaven, from God to allure, 
 And herself and her race to his kingdom secure. 
 This brings him to Eden, and here is he now, 
 His pledge to redeem and accomplish his vow. 
 He is standing before her invisible still, 
 And reluctant his terrible task to fulfil ; 
 As the murderer feels who has whetted his knife 
 For the sake of base lucre, to take its sweet life, 
 And meets the fair child, as he bounds through 
 
 the bowers, 
 Who laughs in his face while he proffers him 
 
 flowers. 
 So Lucifer felt, as he gazed on her now, 
 With her warm, sunny smile, and her clear open 
 
 brow ; 
 Could he steal the pure gem, could he make it 
 
 his own. 
 Could he hide it from hell, could he wear it 
 
 alone. 
 He had spared the fair creature, but bound as 
 
 she is, 
 Both to heaven and man, she can never be his; 
 
EVE. 15 
 
 He may blind her, seduce lier, betray, and decoy, 
 But her love and her faith, he can never destroy. 
 These are part of her being, Jehovah's own dower, 
 Bestowed by his love, at her blest natal hour; 
 Her heart is as true as the steel to the pole ; 
 He knows it, and feels 'tis beyond his control. 
 As we gaze upon childhood's sweet innocent face, 
 And feel it is doomed to the ills of its race ; 
 That soon must the traces of sorrow and care, 
 Be written in legible characters there; 
 That the embryo passions but sleep in the breast, 
 For time to awaken to banish its rest ; 
 Like serpents in winter, though torpid they lie. 
 Shall find all their venom as summer draws nigh ; 
 That the young guileless spirit, too soon must explore, 
 The dark volume of life, and imbibe its base lore. 
 What an interest deep, what an interest strange, 
 Does the pure and frail being, so quickly to 
 
 change, 
 Excite in our bosoms, for well do we know, 
 How brief is its respite from sin and from woe ! 
 
 So Lucifer felt, as he gazed on the flower, 
 He has sworn thus to blight and destroy in an 
 
 hour. 
 
16 EVE. 
 
 What terrible change has passed over him now? 
 Why flashes his eye, and why lours his brow ? 
 'Tis a concert of angels, his own chosen band, 
 He led them in heaven, when high in command ; 
 Once those ravishing tones could devotion inspire, 
 And feed in his bosom all love's holy fire; 
 Now they breathe malediction, and vengeance, and 
 
 ire. 
 So thought .the condemned, as the sounds once so 
 
 dear, 
 Fell heavy and sad, like a knell on his ear; 
 Perhaps to expel him from Eden, they come, 
 And drive him in shame to his desolate home ; 
 To that region of woe, to that frightful abode, 
 Of spirits that live in rebellion with God. 
 Shall he leave her to heaven, in her innocence 
 
 there ? 
 Shall he leave her to Adam? A look of despair 
 He casts upon Eve, when there rang in his ears, 
 The hisses of hell, its mockings and jeers, 
 The laugh of her fiends, with their taunts and 
 
 their sneers, 
 And Adam approaching with pride in his port, 
 And a look of defiance, (so Lucifer thought,) 
 
EVE. 17 
 
 The conflict is over. The trial to make 
 
 He assumes in a moment the form of a snake, 
 
 And gliding beside her, he silently came 
 
 And in voice soft and dulcet he murmurs her 
 
 name. 
 Surprised, but not fearful, she gazes around, 
 To learn who had called, and whence issued the 
 
 sound, 
 When, lo ! at her feet lay in many a fold, 
 A serpent all glitt'ring with emerald and gold! 
 She fears not the serpent, for oft had she lain 
 On the fierce tiger's head, and the lion's rough 
 
 mane, 
 Her delicate hand, as around her they'd press, 
 To share her sweet smile and her gentle caress, 
 As if proud that a creature so pure and divine. 
 Her heavenly nature with theirs should combine. 
 
 Twas hard for a spirit so guileless and sweet 
 With hell's crafty monarch alone to compete. 
 A stranger to falsehood, a stranger to guile: 
 
 9* 
 
18 EVE. 
 
 Alone and unwary with the false and the vile, 
 The dark, dismal future is hid from her sight 
 By a curtain as dense as original night. 
 She dreams not of leaguing with Satan, nor 
 
 knows 
 That such being exists. To the ills and the woes 
 That she brings on her race she is equally blind, 
 She feels not for kindred, she knows not of kind. 
 These relatives are not : for Adam alone 
 And the God of her being to woman are known. 
 She is not a mother, she never has pressed 
 Her young feeble babe to her fostering breast; 
 Ne'er watched o'er its cradle, or wept o'er its bier, 
 Nor heard its sweet laugh, nor removed its bright 
 
 tear. 
 Guilt, sorrow, and pain are unknown e'en by name, 
 No pang has invaded her soul or her frame ; 
 Her sweet, brief existence is made up alone 
 Of rapturous feeling, no other is known 
 With Eden around her and heaven above, 
 With the God of her being and Lord of her love, 
 What conception had she, though we image them 
 
 well, 
 Of the terrors of death, or the horrors of hell? 
 
EVE. 19 
 
 And she is alone with that treacherous one 
 Who half of her sons from high heaven had won, 
 That terrible being who menaced the throne 
 Of the mighty Jehovah; and she is alone. 
 Was there no gentle spirit to whisper, " Dear Eve, 
 'Tis the cruel arch-fiend who has come to deceive 
 And his poison to pour in thy credulous ear, 
 Beware of the serpent, 'tis Satan, beware !" 
 
 "That thou art not a serpent," responded fair Eve, 
 "That thou art not a serpent I well can believe, 
 Then ill it befits that a son of the sky, 
 In the form of a serpent thus lowly should lie 
 At my feet. I beseech thee throw off thy dis- 
 guise, 
 Resume thine own nature, blest child of the skies." 
 At once an archangel in glory arrayed 
 
20 EVE. 
 
 And resplendent in beauty, his form he displayed, 
 And bending before her with reverence meet 
 " Permit me, bright queen of fair Eden, to greet 
 The mother of angels, whose race shall arise 
 To inherit the heavens and people the skies." 
 With strange mixed emotions, unknown till that 
 
 hour, 
 She gazed on the dreadful but beautiful power, 
 Admiration, and terror, and wonder, and awe, 
 Had fettered her senses : it seemed as some law 
 Of her nature was broken ! As the angel of death. 
 With his cold icy hand, had suspended her breath. 
 Why trembles fair woman ? What has she to fear 
 From a son of her Maker ? approaching more near. 
 And then with a voice whose sweet magical spell 
 Had been tested in heaven and proven in hell, 
 He allures her in converse, her terror has fled 
 And the dark, fearful being no more does she 
 
 dread ! 
 "And art thou an angel?" she eagerly cried, 
 "Descended from heaven?" "I am," he replied. 
 Descended from heaven, and oft have I trod 
 Yon star-spangled dome, and the courts of thy 
 
 God !" 
 
EVE. 21 
 
 But once had she seen her Creator, 'twas when 
 She awoke into being, and ever since then, 
 Like a child for its mother, her spirit had yearned 
 Again to behold him. Wherever she turned 
 She met his fond gaze as delighted he smiled 
 On his glorious work, his own beautiful child ! 
 
 That glance of communion, had kindled the flame 
 Of sacred devotion that glowed in her frame. 
 
 Now Satan descants on the goodness of God, 
 On the splendor and joys of his blessed abode, 
 Of the cherubim corps, and the seraphim band 
 That round their Creator eternally stand, 
 Making vocal the heavens as loudly they sing 
 Their glad hallelujahs to heaven's great King. 
 
 With breathless emotion enraptured she hung 
 On the music that flowed from his eloquent tongue, 
 Oh ! never before unto mortal was given 
 So rich and so glowing a picture of heaven ! 
 
 How lovely she looks as her beautiful eyes 
 In fervent devotion are raised to the skies, 
 As if list'ning expectant each moment to hear 
 The harps of its seraphs saluting her ear. 
 
 Fierce Lucifer turned in contrition away. 
 Almost was he tempted to kneel and to pray ; 
 
22 EVE. 
 
 For he deemed that e'en lie might elicit a sio-h. 
 From those love-breathing lips and that merciful 
 
 eye. 
 But he thought of his legions, and groaned as he 
 
 thought 
 Of the shame and perdition his treason had brought 
 On his recreant host. Then he thought of his vow, 
 And resolved to fulfil it, though terrible now 
 Seemed the task that his vengeance and wrath 
 
 had assigned. 
 " I am sworn," he exclaimed, " and my promise 
 
 must bind ; 
 Whate'er be my feelings I dare not rebel, 
 No, not traitor to heaven and traitor to hell. 
 Sweet woman," he cried, " I have known thee 
 
 too late, 
 And thy ruin, fair creature, is part of my fate." 
 Thus speaking he turned, and with treacherous 
 smile 
 Sought his innocent prey to seduce and beguile. 
 The tempter has triumphed, and she would be one 
 Of those glorious beings who circle the throne 
 < >f the mighty Jehovah most blest, while she pours 
 Her tribute of praise to the God she adores, 
 
EYE. 28 
 
 And earth seems a dark and a desolate spot, 
 And her once cherished Eden and Adam forgot. 
 Her mind he has dazzled, her spirit has torn 
 From its own proper sphere, and aloft it has 
 
 borne 
 From the circle her Maker had wisely assigned 
 To move in an orbit he never designed. 
 
 She panteth for heaven, for wisdom she sighs, 
 On the wings of the seraphs would traverse the 
 
 skies. 
 He tenders her heaven, that blessed abode 
 The dwelling of angels, the home of her God ; 
 He tenders her wisdom, the power of thought, 
 That from a wide chaos the universe wrought ; 
 
 O 7 
 
 He tells her that wisdom creation had planned 
 
 And guided Jehovah's victorious hand ; 
 
 He tells her the mandate to Adam was given 
 
 And never designed to exclude her from heaven ; 
 
 He tells her her body is formed of the sod, 
 
 But her soul is a part of the life-giving God, 
 
 Immortal, eternal, forever the same, 
 
 A spark of Jehovah's ethereal flame 
 
 That death cannot conquer, or injure, and may 
 
 But set the soul free from its prison of clay, 
 
24 EVE. 
 
 Unshackle the spirit, unfetter the mind, 
 And make it as tree as the wandering wind. 
 
 He presents the temptation, but proffers in vain, 
 For woman will true to her duty remain. 
 "The fruit is delicious, what pity," he cried, 
 "That this banquet of angels to man is denied." 
 Again he presents it, but proffers in vain, 
 For woman will true to her duty remain. 
 
 Once more he essays. "Wouldst thou be like 
 thy Lord, 
 The mighty Jehovah, the blessed, the adored? 
 'Twill make thee a goddess !" Poor credulous 
 
 Eve! 
 Ah ! well might the traitor the novice deceive ! 
 His eloquent lips had led angels astray, 
 And borne from their Maker e'en seraphs away ! 
 
 The tempter has triumphed, the mandate is broke, 
 And Eve and her race have come under his yoke, 
 And proud of his conquest is Lucifer gone 
 To proclaim in his kingdom the victory won. 
 
VICTORIA. 25 
 
 VICTORIA. 
 
 WRITTEN WHEN VICTORIA BECAME QUEEN OF ENGLAND. 
 
 Stoops then a daughter of the eagle's land 
 
 In servile adulation to a throne ? 
 Scatters she incense with a lavish hand? 
 
 Plays she the laureate to Britannia's crown? 
 She of the rigid sect that claim to stand 
 Erect before the sov'reigns of the land, 
 And never bow the head or bend the knee 
 To any other than the Deity. 
 
 Rebuke me not, stern spirits of my sires, 
 
 Not less than ye I scorn the venal muse: 
 Then if Victoria's name my lay inspires 
 
 Rebuke me till I my theme excuse. 
 'Tis not the crown that glitters on her brow, 
 'Tis the young brow it circles moves me now 
 'Tis not the monarch in her form I meet, 
 3 
 
26 VICTORIA. 
 
 It is my sister woman whom I greet, 
 And bid her welcome to her royal seat, 
 Britannia's throne, and may Victoria's tame 
 Shed a fresh lustre upon woman's name ! 
 
 Spirit of by-gone ages, is't thou hast past 
 
 And touched me with thy magic wand ? 
 "Waking my soul to sympathize at last 
 
 With what my stricter creed would countermand, 
 .Rekindling all the romance of my youth, 
 
 Bidding me dream of chivalry and love, 
 Of ladies' scarfs and belted knights in sooth, 
 
 Of the couched lance, and of the gauntlet glove. 
 Fill'd with these images of auld lang syne 
 I sank to slumber. And but yestere'en, 
 Transformed by potent fancy, I became 
 The queen of fairy land ; the elfin queen 
 Titania ; and was holding my levee 
 Beneath the shade of a magnolia tree. 
 
 Sweet was the sylvan scene : the crescent moon 
 In tender radiance o'er the landscape shone, 
 The heavens were calm and bright, and softly smiled, 
 Like a fond mother on darling child her, 
 
VICTORIA. 27 
 
 And earth returned that smile as forth she sent 
 Her joyous voices to the firmament ; 
 The sparkling waters as they murmured o'er 
 Proclaimed their gladness to the pebhled shore, 
 The mock-bird told it as his song uprose 
 From the crape myrtle and the laurel rose, 
 And midst the polished leaves and snowy bloom, 
 Where the sweet orange shed her rich perfume, 
 The humming-bird, that tiny, lovely thing 
 •Flitting from flower to flower with restless wing, 
 Sucks the nectarian dew, then turns and sips 
 Ambrosial sweets from the rich crimson lips 
 Of cypress flowers, and ever and anon, 
 Couches among the leaves, then like a flash is gone. 
 
 Myriads of glittering moths, the fire-fly throng, 
 Spangle tfie air, and gleam the trees among, 
 Like children of the stars, they look to be 
 Sent to partake of earth's festivity. 
 
 The winds were hushed to sleep, save only one 
 Young zephyr who was sallying forth alone, 
 Amorous of night, passing his winged hours 
 Kissing the buds, stealing the breath of flowers ; 
 Sure such a night to erring man was given 
 To call his wandering spirit back to heaven ! 
 
28 VICTORIA. 
 
 But what of fairy land ? what of the throne 
 Of fair Titania and her Oberon? 
 
 Around the court there was a rampart wall 
 Composed of snowy pebbles round and small ; 
 Within 'twas paved with shining isinglass 
 O'er which the fays do to their palace pass, 
 A Grecian temple seemed the elfin hall, 
 So classic was its structure, and withal, 
 So much of grace and symmetry displayed. 
 Its floor was rich mosaic, and inlaid 
 With tiny shells, the sable and the bright 
 Making a tapis lovely to the sight ; 
 Of pearly shell was formed the outer wall, 
 Composed of naker, or what we call 
 Mother-of-pearl ; the pillars of the throne 
 Were coral, and for canopy there shone" 
 A burnished shell that the warm sun had kissed 
 And left his glorious image there impressed, 
 So rosy and so varied were its dyes 
 It looked the sunset of our southern skies, 
 Its curtains were the wings of butterflies. 
 
 Such was the elfin palace, such the throne 
 Of fair Titania and her Oberon. 
 
VICTORIA. 29 
 
 They meet not now a " culprit fay" to try 
 For basking in the beam of beauty's eye ; 
 But weighty matters and affairs of state 
 Engage their senate in a grave debate, 
 For know, their elfin majesties have been 
 Sponsors to young Florilla, England's queen ! 
 Florilla, the beloved of fairy land ! 
 Who doth the homage of each heart command 
 Too early culled a coronet to wear, 
 And her young mind the toils of state to share ; 
 Ere sage experience had informed her mind 
 With knowledge of herself or of mankind. 
 To guard her from the evils that beset 
 Her youth and innocence to-day have met 
 The elfin . council, and they now bestow 
 A wondrous amulet with power to show 
 The faithless friend, and mark the secret foe ! 
 
 To-night Titania to the court repairs, 
 And to the queen the magic jewel bears. 
 
 But see ! with drooping wing and downcast eye 
 A pensive stranger to the throne draws nigh. 
 An empty quiver o'er his shoulder flung, 
 A torch extinguished, and a bow unstrung, 
 
30 VICTORIA. 
 
 Proclaim the once puissant god of love, 
 Long doomed in weary banishment to rove. 
 
 With a face beaming with surprise and joy, 
 Titania thus accosts the hapless boy : 
 " Son of the Cyprian goddess ! is it thou ? 
 Ah, ever welcome, never more than now ; 
 Long have we wept thy destiny unknown, 
 And mourned thy absence from our elfin throne." 
 
 To whom thus Cupid answered, " It is sweet 
 In dark adversity such friends to meet ; 
 Friends whom the power of- fortune ne'er estranged, 
 Faithful in love, incapable of change ; 
 Such kindly greeting from my old allies 
 Gladdens my heart and bids my courage rise. 
 
 " Long have I been a wanderer of the wild, 
 By cruel Yulcan from my home exiled ; 
 The haughty monarch rules and reigns alone, 
 My shrine dishonors, and usurps my throne, 
 My empire lost and all my rights denied, 
 My power derided and my rage defied. 
 No more do minstrels chaunt of beauty's charms, 
 Of deeds of valor, or the clash of arms ; 
 No, nothing now is heard but hissing stea?n 1 
 And cars and railroads form the constant theme. 
 
VICTORIA. 81 
 
 Fancy is banished from her bright domain, 
 And love and chivalry have ceased to reign. 
 Mourning my wretched fate but yestere'en, 
 I learned that ye were sponsors to the queen, 
 Then smiling hope returned and bade me fly 
 And claim your interest with her majesty. 
 Shall youth and beauty o'er the scene preside, 
 And lovely woman be the nation's guide, 
 And exiled love in banishment repine, 
 Mourning his throne usurped, his ruined shrine V 
 
 To whom with lowering brow and flashing eye 
 Indignant Oberon did thus reply : 
 " Cupid, thy wrongs are ours, behold they chase 
 From ev'ry sylvan scene the fairy race, 
 No more their children learn our fairy lore, 
 No ! all communion with our race is o'er, 
 No more they come our bounteous gifts to claim, 
 No more as sponsors to their babes they name 
 Our elfln people. Saving one alone, 
 The youthful monarch of Britannia's throne ; 
 Whate'er of influence to our court belongs 
 Shall be exerted to redress thy wrongs." 
 
32 VICTORIA. 
 
 Scarce had lie spoke, when lo ! the tinkling bell 
 And booming gun dissolved the magic spell. 
 The charm is broken, and the dream is o'er, 
 Florilla and Titania are no more ! 
 Where is my elfin palace ? where my throne ? 
 And where my fairy courtiers \ all are gone ! 
 Upon my couch I find myself alone, 
 And in a land where monarchs are unknown. 
 
 Xo liege art thou of mine, and yet, my heart 
 Doth claim in thee a portion and a part, 
 For thou art woman, and her sacred fame 
 Is linked forever with Victoria's name. 
 Then hail, young queen, and may thy reign decide 
 How safely man to woman may confide 
 The mightiest trust ! How faithful she can prove, 
 And with what anxious care and jealous love 
 She guards her charge. Long may thy people feel 
 Thy deep devotion to thy country's weal ! 
 
 I have no amulet to give thee now, 
 To mark the treacherous friend and crafty toe, 
 To teach thee whom to trust and whom to shun, 
 My power is gone, my elfin race is run. 
 
VICTORIA. 33 
 
 Our lands have measured sabres, and each knows 
 The other's valor. Long may they repose 
 Within their scabbards ! Wherefore meet as foes ? 
 As states divided ? but with many a link 
 Unbroken still. Alike we feel and think. 
 Brothers by nature : from one fount we draw 
 Our lineage, language, literature, and law, 
 A kindred people. Wherefore meet we foes? 
 Then let the sabre in its sheath repose, 
 There's glory for us both : glory for mine 
 That she's descended from a race like thine, 
 And for thy England, that the fair, the young, 
 The blessed Columbia from herself hath sprung. 
 Florilla, love, farewell, as thy marraine 
 Invoke I many a blessing on thy reign, 
 Glory for thee and safety for thy state; 
 Long may she prove the happy and the great. 
 But hark ! the bell has tolled the matin bell, 
 My hour has past, Victoria, queen, farewell. 
 
34 woman's love 
 
 WOMAN'S LOVE. 
 
 Oh ! woman's heart is love's own soil, 
 
 And well the beauteous plant will thrive, 
 No pale exotic reared with toil 
 
 And kept by constant care alive. 
 It is no bright ephenvral flower 
 
 That lives but in the sunny ray, 
 The transient beauty of an hour 
 
 That passes with the beam away. 
 
 'Tis balsam, all its balmy breath, 
 
 No subtle poison lurketh there ; 
 It has no canker in its leaf, 
 
 But blooms forever sweet and fair. 
 It closest clings when fortune flings 
 
 Her deadly venom on the gale, 
 And brightest glows midst scenes of woe, 
 
 When sickness, want, and care assail. 
 
35 
 
 Oh ! then 'twill shine with light divine, 
 
 Throwing its balsam all around, 
 Its tender smile will grief beguile 
 
 And heal or soften every wound. 
 Sorrow and pain assault in vain, 
 
 Chill penury and cold disdain, 
 For still 'twill bloom through thickest gloom. 
 
 Within the dungeon, o'er the tomb. 
 
 When passion's blast, hath o'er it passed 
 
 And scattered all its bloom away ; 
 Or some rude stroke its stem hath broke, 
 
 And, trodden in the dust, it lay ; 
 You deem it dead, its spirit fled, 
 
 And mourn perhaps the perished flower, 
 But 'tis not death. Affection's breath 
 
 Can wake again each dormant power; 
 'Twill softly rise 'neath loving eyes 
 
 And put its tender beauties forth ; 
 Again 'twill cling round that base thing 
 
 That crushed it in an hour of wrath. 
 
 All-suff 'ring, all-enduring spirit ! 
 Thy gentleness and fortitude 
 
36 woman's love. 
 
 Might well a brighter clime inherit 
 
 Than this cold world so bleak and rude. 
 But flower of love in woman's heart, 
 Immortal as the soul thou art, 
 And with that soul shalt thou arise, 
 Triumphant to thy natal skies. 
 
TO ZEPHYR. 37 
 
 TO ZEPHYR. 
 
 Go, zephyr dear, 
 
 Breathe in his ear 
 How fond, how warm I love him ; 
 
 In accents sweet 
 
 Thy tale repeat; 
 To gentle pity move him. 
 
 ii. 
 
 Say that a tender, faithful heart 
 For him in secret sighing ; 
 
 Blushing conceals the venomed dart 
 And of the wound is dying. 
 
38 TO ZEPHYR. 
 
 m. 
 
 Oh! tell him thou hast seen the war 
 'Twixt angry love and virgin pride, 
 
 Seen her pale cheek bedewed with tears, 
 And then in crimson blushes dyed. 
 
 rv. 
 
 Nay, zephyr, nay, 
 
 Sweet truant, stay, 
 Thou shalt not my fond heart betray, 
 For hark! a spirit calm and mild 
 Forbids the mission, fairy child ; 
 'Tis female modesty divine ; 
 My guardian angel, it is thine. 
 
 Nay, zephyr, nay, 
 
 Sweet truant, stay, 
 Thou shalt not my fond heart betray. 
 
LINES TO EDWIN. 39 
 
 LINES TO EDWIN. 
 
 Thou striv'st in vain, love's broken chain 
 
 No art of thine can link again ; 
 
 Not all the powers of earth and heaven 
 
 Could tear its tender links apart, 
 But thou the living chords hast riven, 
 
 It bled and died in ev'iy part ; 
 Then give the useless struggle o'er, 
 
 'Tis vain to bid the dead revive ; 
 Departed spirits come no more, 
 
 Then why should hope the grave survive ? 
 
40 TO MY DEAREST FRIEND. 
 
 TO MY DEAKEST FKIEND. 
 
 Let angry fate her shafts employ, 
 Her poisoned arrows harmless fly, 
 
 They cannot pierce the shield of love, 
 Or wound the heart when thou art nigh. 
 
 ■^ j 
 
 The worldling may desert our cot, 
 To wealthier mansions rove, 
 
 But partners of our humble lot 
 Are innocence and love. 
 
 No guests are these of low degree, 
 Our inmates are from heaven, 
 
 And shall we want society 
 When such as these are given? 
 
TO MY DEAREST FRIEND. 41 
 
 Dear Edwin, let the venal crew 
 
 Desert our shattered bark, 
 Whilst love, our pilot firm and true, 
 
 Conducts us through the dark. 
 
 His heavenly lamp will lend its light 
 
 When darkest tempests lour, 
 And through misfortune's stormy night, 
 
 Will prove a guardian power. 
 
 Then, Edwin dear, thy spirits cheer, 
 
 Nor dread impending pain, 
 The storms of fate will soon abate, 
 
 And fortune smile again. 
 
 4* 
 
42 TO A SCEPTIC. 
 
 TO A SCEPTIC. 
 
 Cease, sceptic, cease, nor in mine ear 
 
 Thy hated doctrine pour, 
 I would not for the wealth of worlds 
 
 Imbibe thy wretched lore. 
 
 Why should I my blest faith resign, 
 My faith of hope and bliss, 
 
 To take thy dark, revolting creed 
 Of dust and nothingness? 
 
 Why should I launch my little bark 
 
 Upon life's stormy sea, 
 Without a star her path to mark 
 
 Or guide her destiny ? 
 
TO A SCEPTIC. 48 
 
 Oh! not to Keason's fitful gleam 
 
 Trust I her dangerous way ; 
 Too often passion's pliant slave, 
 
 She leads the soul astray. 
 
 Sweet Faith, be thou my guiding star, 
 
 Hope shall my anchor be, 
 My pilot, thou whose voice did calm 
 
 The wild and stormy sea. 
 
 My spirit hails fair nature's Lord, 
 
 And claims him as her own, 
 And honors and reveres his word, 
 
 And worships at his throne. 
 
 My soul rejoices in his strength, 
 
 And glories in his power; 
 And finds in his omnipotence 
 
 Protection ev'ry hour. 
 
 Corruption and the worm. Poor man, 
 
 Is such thy final doom? 
 Well may the spirit shudder 
 
 O'er the horrors of the tomb. 
 
44 TO A SCEPTIC. 
 
 To fester iu a loathsome grave, 
 
 In dark oblivion rot, 
 To be as though we ne'er had been 
 
 By all of earth forgot. 
 
 To know the glorious sun again 
 Shall gladden earth and skies, 
 
 But not a beam of his shall fall 
 Upon our darkened eyes. 
 
 That ev'ry noble faculty 
 Of feeling and of thought, 
 
 Must be by death's relentless hand 
 Again consigned to naught. 
 
 And the poor tendrils of the heart, 
 Shall they, too, prostrate lie 
 
 On the cold earth ? nor find a friend 
 To raise them to the sky ? 
 
 Hope's angel voice be heard no more, 
 
 Benignant faith, too, fled, 
 And love in anguish and despair 
 
 Wail o'er her cherished dead ? 
 
TO A SCEPTIC. 45 
 
 Art thou a dream, my blessed faith? 
 
 Stay, bright illusion, stay. 
 Oh ! may I never wake to know 
 
 The dread reality ! 
 
 To know that man is but a worm, 
 
 The creature of a breath, 
 To give the grave the victory, 
 
 Again its sting to death. 
 
 Sweet virtue, has she then no stay? 
 
 Are all her hopes betrayed? 
 Shall bare-faced vice walk unabashed, 
 
 Unstricken, undismayed ? 
 
 Is there no arm to smite the proud, 
 
 To lay the oppressor low ? 
 Shall struggling virtue find no shield 
 
 To guard her from her foe? 
 
 Shall duty's thorny path be trod, 
 
 The well-fought battle won? 
 Is there no wreath to deck the brave 
 
 For deeds of valor done ? 
 
46 TO A SCEPTIC. 
 
 Has man no righteous Judge on high 
 
 To whom he may appeal? 
 Is there no ear to hear his cry, 
 
 No heart his wrongs to feel? 
 
 Peace, peace, my soul, thy Saviour lives, 
 
 Jehovah reigns on high ; 
 There is a heart to feel thy woes, 
 
 An ear to hear thy cry. 
 
 Then in thine anguish, oh, my soul, 
 
 Unto thy God complain ! 
 The noblest instinct given to man 
 
 Was ne'er bestowed in vain. 
 
 And he shall answer to thy call, 
 
 Bid ev'ry sorrow cease, 
 Calm thy sad spirit's agony, 
 
 And hush thy cares to peace. 
 
 Then, sceptic, cease, nor in mine ear 
 
 Thy hated doctrine pour, 
 I would not for a thousand worlds 
 
 Imbibe thy wretched lore. 
 
TO A SCEPTIC. 47 
 
 But rather, sceptic, bow with me 
 
 Before Jehovah's throne, 
 Casting thine unbelief away, 
 
 Making my faith thine own. 
 
 Then feel that peace the world ne'er gave, 
 
 Nor e'er can take away, 
 And own how sweet it is to love, 
 
 To hope, to trust, to pray. 
 
48 LINES FOR NEW YEAR'S DAY. 
 
 LINES FOE NEW YEAE'S DAY. 
 
 Child of the spoiler, is it meet 
 
 That we thine entry now should greet 
 
 With mirth, and song, and music sweet, 
 
 Our direst foe, 
 The fell destroyer of our race, 
 Leaving us no abiding place, 
 And of the mighty scarce a trace ? 
 
 No, tyrant, no. 
 Oh, hadst thou to the form confined 
 The ravage of thy hand unkind, 
 Nor to the regions of the mind 
 
 Brought ruin's doom, 
 Laid the fair fields of fancy waste, 
 Marred the bright visions of the past, 
 And o'er the heart and spirit cast 
 
 A sad'ning gloom ; 
 
LINES ON NEW YEAR'S DAY. 49 
 
 The rosy cheek, the sparkling eye, 
 The polished forehead pure and high, 
 And the rich clustering locks that deck 
 The fair round cheek and downy neck, 
 These are thy thefts, purloiner, let them pass, 
 I with a sigh resign them ; and the glass 
 Eeflects a faded image ; be it so. 
 
 " Que voulez vous," our friends the French would 
 
 say, 
 E'en let the treasured shadows pass away. 
 
 5 
 
50 TO MY COUNTRY. 
 
 TO MY COUNTBY, 
 
 ON THE FOURTH OF JULY. 
 
 All hail! it is thy natal day, 
 
 And I, with love sincere, 
 Have come my fealty to pay 
 
 To thee, my mother dear. 
 My mother dear, thy natal clay, 
 
 With what deep interest fraught! 
 How full of thrilling memories ! 
 
 What glorious theme for thought ! 
 Fair suffering freedom gave thee birth, 
 
 Yalor thy sponsor stood, 
 And thy first cry was "liberty!" 
 
 Thy baptism was blood. 
 The brave, the generous, and the good, 
 
 Poured forth their blood like rain, 
 
TO MY COUNTRY. 51 
 
 And valiant spirits round thee stood 
 
 Th}' being to sustain. 
 My grandsire died to make thee free, 
 
 He died his love to prove, 
 And to his children he bequeathed 
 
 A heritage of love ; 
 And thou hast ever been my pride, 
 
 A thing more truly dear 
 Than ev'ry earthly tie beside 
 
 However fond or near. 
 Thy daughter may no trophy bring, 
 
 To her no power is given ; 
 On earth she may not plead the thee, 
 
 But she will plead to heaven. 
 Oh! thou that guid'st the destiny 
 
 Of nations, hear my prayer, 
 And make my well-beloved land 
 
 Thy most peculiar care ; 
 Thy wisdom to her councils lend, 
 
 And in the bloody field 
 Be thou her captain, Lord of hosts, 
 
 Her buckler and her shield ; 
 And should she from thy counsels stray, 
 
 Thv mercies all forgot, 
 
52 TO MY COUNTRY. 
 
 Oh ! father, cast her not away, 
 
 Dear Lord, forsake her not ; 
 But in her hour of sin and shame, 
 
 E'en if she must be smitten, 
 Smite with a father's pitying love, 
 
 Not in the wrath of Heaven ; 
 And having curbed her stubborn will, 
 
 And her transgression o'er, 
 Place her beneath thy guardian wing, 
 
 And bless her evermore. 
 
HYMN. 53 
 
 HYMN. 
 
 Ay aunt ! ye carking cares of life, 
 
 Nor enter this divine abode, 
 But leave the spirit to commune 
 
 In silence with the living God ! 
 
 For she would learn her destiny, 
 
 Her duties and her powers, 
 And to her origin devote 
 
 These consecrated hours. 
 
 Soul of the universe, to thee 
 
 My soul her joyful homage pays, 
 And from her prison-house of clay 
 
 Fain would she chant her Maker's praise. 
 
 5* 
 
54 HYMN. 
 
 Source of my being, Lord of life ! 
 
 To thee the gift of life I owe ; 
 Feeling and thought, knowledge and love, 
 
 Do from thy gracious bounty flow, 
 
 Thy wisdom framed our moral law, 
 Oh! let me then in it abide, 
 
 Be strength unto my feebleness, 
 And in my blindness be my guide. 
 
 Send wisdom to my darkened mind, 
 And virtue to my guilty heart; 
 
 Be ev'ry wish and thought refined, 
 And make me holy as thou art. 
 
 Creator, Father, Witness, Judge, 
 And aye, all other names above ; 
 
 Dearest to man's requiring heart, 
 Thou God of everlasting love. 
 
HYMN. 55 
 
 HYMN, 
 
 ON THE OCCASION OF THE FIRST CELEBRATION OF THANKS- 
 GIVING IN LOUISIANA. 
 
 Throw wide the portals' of the Lord ! 
 
 And make his altar free, 
 For myriads throng, with one accord, 
 
 To bend the suppliant knee. 
 Throw wide the gates ! the way prepare, 
 A grateful people kneel in prayer. 
 
 Come, ye oppressed of every land, 
 
 Of every clime and creed, 
 Before our holy altar stand, 
 
 For it is free indeed. 
 The Lord is on his mercy-seat, 
 
 His blessing to accord ; 
 And there are none to come between 
 
 The people and their Lord. 
 
56 HYMN. 
 
 Before a gracious Father's throne 
 
 His children now appear 
 With thankful hearts, to celebrate 
 
 The bounties of the year, 
 To tell the goodness of the Lord, 
 
 His wondrous love proclaim ; 
 They come, they come with one accord 
 
 To magnify his name. 
 
 Hosannahs for the Lord of hosts ! 
 
 Hosannahs for our King ! 
 Let every heart with one accord 
 
 Glad Hallelujahs sing; 
 Praised be the Lord ! through all the land 
 
 Let the heart's incense rise, 
 Till listening angels catch the strain 
 
 And waft it to the skies. 
 
on reading taylor's diegesis. 57 
 
 (M READING TAYLOR'S DIEGESIS. 
 
 Oh ! steal not thou my faith away, 
 
 Let ev'ry earth-born joy depart, 
 But leave, oh, leave that heavenly ray 
 To shine, 'twill soothe my saddened heart. 
 My God ! my God ! bereft of thee 
 What were this weary world to me? 
 
 With hope, faith crowns the martyr's stake, 
 
 A glorious throne now seems the pile ; 
 See for religion's holy sake 
 
 Death-tortures borne with glad, proud smile. 
 My God! my God! bereft of thee 
 What were this weary world to me ( 
 
58 ON READING TAYLOB'S DIEGESIS. 
 
 And see, when grief the bouI hath riven, 
 
 When cares and sorrows wring the mind, 
 To fervent faith the power is given 
 The siuTring spirit's wounds to bind. 
 
 My God ! my God ! bereft of thee 
 What were this weary world to me '( 
 
 Then take all other joys away, 
 
 Friends, fortune, health, let all depart, 
 But leave to life its dearest stay — 
 
 The faith that dwells deep in the heart. 
 
 My God! my God! bereft of thee 
 What were this weary world to me ! 
 
AMERICAN BATTLE SONG. 59 
 
 AMEKICAN BATTLE SONG. 
 
 "Who would dread the foeman's steel, 
 Battling, lovely land, for thee? 
 
 Thy wrongs alone our hearts shall feel, 
 And the wrongs of liberty. 
 
 Who would seek a holier bed 
 Than the patriot hero's grave ? 
 
 His country's tears upon it shed, 
 For nations weep their fallen brave. 
 
 Pilgrims' feet shall press the sod 
 Where his sacred ashes lie ; 
 
 Nor, like common, vulgar clod, 
 Pass them unregarded by. 
 
60 AMERICAN BATTLE SONG. 
 
 Brightly then, in hist'ry's page, 
 
 On the record of his race, 
 Proudly borne from age to age, 
 
 He shall fill a lofty place. 
 
 "When the patriot hero dies, 
 Guardian angels from above 
 
 To the parting spirit cry, 
 
 "Welcome to the land of love. 
 
 " Glorious o'er the wreck of time, 
 Come the great reward to meet, 
 
 Where the blest of ev'ry clime 
 Wait thy kindred soul to greet." 
 
 Then who would dread the foeman's steel, 
 Battling, lovely land, for thee? 
 
 Thy wrongs alone our hearts shall feel, 
 And the wrongs of liberty. 
 
HUMAN ASPIRATIONS. 61 
 
 HUMAN ASPIKATIONS. 
 
 For costly robes and jewels bright 
 
 My heart has never pined; 
 The simple flowers which deck the field 
 
 Are dearer to my mind. 
 I love their soft and fragile forms, 
 
 Their sweetness and their grace ; 
 Like man they sicken, fade, and die, 
 
 Types of a suff'ring race. 
 And while their fragrance I inhale 
 
 And gaze npon their bloom, 
 I deem that spirits dwell within, 
 
 Midst beauty and perfume. 
 But those cold, hard, and changeless gems, 
 
 Sparkling forever bright, 
 They wake no chord of sympathy, 
 
 No feeling of delight. 
 
62 HUMAN ASPIRATIONS. 
 
 I care not for the midnight fete 
 
 Nor for the giddy dance ; 
 I'd rather, crouching at thy feet, 
 
 List to some wild romance, 
 Some touching tale of by-gone years, 
 
 Or to the witching lays 
 Of nature's own inspired bards 
 
 Chanting in nature's praise, 
 Or open the historic page, 
 
 The drama of our race, 
 And see proud man upon the stage 
 
 In ev'ry clime and place. 
 
 The phantom hunter, mark him still ! 
 
 All eager in the chase 
 Of shadows that elude his grasp 
 
 And fly from his embrace. 
 Golconda and Peru combined, 
 
 With all their gems and ore, 
 Shall never satisfy his mind, 
 
 Forever grasping more. 
 
 Thou, plebeian son of Corsica ! 
 And mighty lord of France, 
 
HUMAN ASPIRATIONS. 63 
 
 And Europe's haughty conqueror, 
 
 Napoleon ! advance ! 
 Ah! little thought thy mother 
 
 When she rocked thee on her knee 
 And kissed thy baby forehead 
 
 In smiling infancy, 
 As she pressed thee to her bosom 
 
 And sung her boy to rest, 
 That 'twas an infant monarch 
 
 Who slumbered on her breast! 
 That thrones should be his playthings, 
 
 And that kings should be his sport, 
 And the mighty quail before him, 
 
 And the proud be set at naught ; 
 That the classic fields of Italy, 
 
 And those of haughty Spain, 
 Fair Portugal, and Sicily, 
 
 Be part of his domain ; 
 And Austria, and Germany 
 
 Be subject to his sway, 
 And Europe's fairest, noblest realms 
 
 Her plebeian boy obey. 
 That the fate of subject nations 
 Should depend upon his nod, 
 
64 HUMAN ASPIRATIONS. 
 
 That he'd walk o'er prostrate Europe 
 Like some haughty demi-god. 
 
 Ah! little thought thy mother, 
 As she rocked thee on her knee 
 
 And kissed thy baby forehead 
 
 That these wondrous things should be ! 
 
 And yet, imperial monarch, 
 
 Thou wert not half so blest 
 In all thy pomp and power 
 
 As when slumbering on that breast ! 
 Speak, fortune's giddy favorite, 
 
 What boon did'st thou demand 
 That was not lavishly bestowed 
 
 By her indulgent hand? 
 And yet, insatiate spirit, 
 
 Had each and all been given, 
 And every clime been thine 
 
 'Neath the canopy of heaven, 
 Thou had'st not been content, 
 
 But like Macedon's mad fool 
 Had'st wept for other worlds to win, 
 
 For other worlds to rule. 
 
HUMAN ASPIRATIONS. Qo 
 
 Like Cinderella thou transgressed 
 
 And stayed beyond thy hour, 
 And fortune left thee to thy shame, 
 
 And 'reft thee of thy power. 
 
 Thy princely glories passed away, 
 
 And thou wert left alone 
 The prisoner of a lonely isle, 
 
 A king without a throne. 
 And thou who kept a world at bay, 
 
 And didst a world enthrall, 
 Where art thou? and what art thou? say 
 
 All-conquering lord of Gaul ; 
 And where is he, thy son and heir, 
 
 The child of broken vows? 
 His father's throne he never filled, 
 
 No crown adorned his brows: — 
 Alas ! for human folly, 
 
 Alas ! for human pride, 
 Alas! for man's defeated schemes, 
 
 And hopes ungratified. 
 
 Thou thought'st a race of monarchs 
 
 With honors and renown, 
 6* 
 
66 HUMAN ASPIRATIONS. 
 
 Should to remotest ages bear 
 Thy name in glory down. 
 
 And lo ! the cold and silent tomb 
 Is all of thee and thine, 
 
 A meet reward for perjured faith 
 And love's dishonored shrine. 
 
ON THE PROSPECT OF WAR. 
 
 67 
 
 ON THE PKOSPECT OF A WAE WITH 
 GKEAT BKITAIN. 
 
 Awaken, proud bird of the air, 
 And forth to the combat again; 
 
 The lion is roused in his lair, 
 And shaking his terrible mane. 
 
 Thou hast met him in deadliest strife 
 When thou wert but feeble and young ; 
 
 Aye, fear not to peril the life, 
 
 For now thou art vig'rous and strong. 
 
 Not a feather is lost from thy wing, 
 Not a star of thy glory is set, 
 
 And the future shall be as the past, 
 Whose halo illumines thee yet. 
 
68 ON THE PROSPECT OF WAR, 
 
 Then waken, proud bird of the air, 
 And forth to the combat again ; 
 
 The lion is roused in his lair, 
 And shaking his terrible mane. 
 
TO GENERAL JACKSON 
 
 69 
 
 TO GENERAL JACKSON, 
 
 IN ANTICIPATION OF HIS VISIT TO LOUISIANA IN 1828. 
 
 Our gallant leader comes once more, 
 Then bid him welcome to our shore ; 
 Let grateful thousands round him press 
 To laud his deeds, his name to bless. 
 For bravest of the brave is he, 
 The noblest son of chivalry. 
 
 'Tis he who raised his country's name 
 And filled the measure of her fame, 
 Who came to save our threatened land 
 From carnage, plunder, and the brand. 
 For bravest of the brave is he, 
 The noblest son of chivalry. 
 
70 TO GENERAL JACKSON. 
 
 His presence, like a potent charm, 
 Scattered each phantom of alarm ; 
 Despondency and deep dismay 
 Fled like the shades of night away. 
 For bravest of the brave was he, 
 The noblest son of chivalry. 
 
 No more they cry capitulate, 
 
 And yield the city to her fate ; 
 
 No more they fear the coming fray, 
 
 But hail it as a glorious day, 
 
 When they their maiden swords shall try 
 
 With Britain's chosen chivalry. 
 
 Oh! who so bold a chief beneath 
 E'er counted odds, or dreaded death! 
 They met the foe and quelled his pride, 
 The field was ours in carnage dyed ; 
 The vanquished foe in terror fled, 
 And left to fatten on his dead 
 That 6oil he vainly hoped to be 
 The scene of spoil and victory. 
 
 The rescued land, with one acclaim, 
 Shouts victory, and Jackson's name! 
 
TO GENERAL JACKSON. 
 
 And fondly swears the sacred debt 
 She and her sons will ne'er forget. 
 
 What though no monument appears, 
 His country's heart the record bears. 
 His country's heart, which proudly swells 
 When on his glorious deeds it dwells ; 
 And when she names the glorious band, 
 The noble champions of the land, 
 Will proudly place her Jackson's name 
 Amidst the highest sons of fame. 
 
 Then say her gratitude to show 
 What can this country now bestow ? 
 A boon all other boons above, 
 To be the idol of her love 
 The chosen of the brave and free, 
 Chief of the sons of chivalry ! 
 
72 REQUIEM. 
 
 REQUIEM, 
 
 ON THE DEATH OF JACKSON. 
 
 Weep, mother, weep, 
 
 Weep for thy departed, 
 Thy loving, thy beloved, 
 
 Thy lion-hearted. 
 Weep o'er thy hero's grave, 
 Weep o'er thy good and brave, 
 
 Weep for the spirit so gallant and free ; 
 Weep for that spirit fled, 
 Weep o'er thy mighty dead, 
 
 Weep for the heart that beat only for thee. 
 Weep, mother, weep, 
 Weep, mother, weep. 
 
TO MY COUNTRY. 78 
 
 TO MY COUNTRY, 
 
 DURING THE TROUBLES IN SOUTH CAROLINA. 
 
 My country, my country, thy doom I deplore ! 
 My country, my country, thy glory is o'er! 
 Like a childless mother, thou sittest forlorn, 
 Thy beloved are departed, thy loving are gone ! 
 Thy patriot sages and heroes are dead, 
 Thy strength has departed, thy glory has fled, 
 The parricide aims at thy being the blow, 
 They would clothe thee in sackcloth, and doom 
 
 thee to woe, 
 In blood they would drench thee ; thy children's 
 
 own gore, — 
 My country, my country, thy glory is o'er. 
 
74 TO MY COUNTKY. 
 
 My country, my country, I weep for thy shame, 
 Thy sons would dishonor thy glorious name, 
 They would clothe thee in ashes, and tear from 
 
 thy brow 
 The beautiful garland that circles it now, 
 The bright wreath of glory so gallantly wove 
 By thy patriot sons for the land of their love ; 
 They did build thee a temple, an altar divine, 
 And to brotherly love they erected the shrine, 
 And swore, as the glorious fabric they planned, 
 That divided we fall, and united we stand, 
 That united we stand, but divided we fall, 
 While discord and anarchy reign over all. 
 
 To their sons they bequeathed it without stain or 
 
 flaw, 
 Tli is beautiful temple of freedom and law : 
 Then perish the traitor whose hand would remove 
 One stone from our altar of union and love ; 
 But discord is here with her horrible mien, 
 And all the base passions around her are seen ; 
 They have sworn thy destruction, oh, holiest fane, 
 And thy glorious founders have perished in vain. 
 
TO MY COUNTRY. 75 
 
 Then cling to their temple, and swear by their 
 
 dust, 
 To preserve the dear treasure consigned to your 
 
 trust, 
 And bequeath to your children, without stain or 
 
 flaw, 
 The beautiful temple of freedom and law. 
 
76 TO MY COUNTRY. 
 
 TO MY COUNTRY, 
 
 WRITTEN AT THE SAME TIME WITH THE PRECEDING. 
 
 I've sorrowed o'er a mother's grave, 
 
 And o'er my children's bier, 
 And over friendship's hallowed tomb 
 
 Have given many a tear, 
 But never with so deep a grief, 
 
 Nor with so crushed a heart, 
 Have I acknowledged nature's pang 
 
 When kindred spirits part, 
 As I have wept thy feuds to see, 
 And mourned thy weal in jeopardy. 
 
 Accursed be the traitorous band 
 That this dear land would sever, 
 
TO MY COUNTRY. 77 
 
 And break the ties which sweetly bind 
 
 Her kindred realms together, 
 And let the fiery passions loose. 
 
 The demons of the mind, 
 Fell jealousy and deadly hate, 
 
 Ambition mad and blind, 
 To cause her lovely, peaceful fields 
 
 With brothers' blood to flow ; 
 Aye ! fix the brand, the murderous brand, 
 
 Upon the traitor's brow. 
 
 Raise once again her standard sheet, 
 
 And bid it proudly wave ; 
 Beneath it never combated 
 
 The tyrant or the slave ; 
 It is the banner of the free, 
 The star-lit flag of liberty. 
 Aye, raise aloft her standard sheet, 
 
 Arouse her children all, 
 Sternly each patriot heart shall beat 
 
 This answer to her call. 
 
 "We come, we come, our mother dear, 
 Thy glory to sustain ; 
 
78 TO MY COUNTRY. 
 
 Our martyred fathers died for thee, 
 
 The}' did not die in vain ; 
 Thou art our country, great and wide, 
 
 A nation strong and free, 
 And not that maimed, decrepid thing 
 
 Thy foes would make of thee; 
 Thou art the queen of nations. 
 
 The refuge of our race, 
 The idol of our fathers' love, 
 
 Fair freedom's resting-place, 
 Her ark of safety. And we swear 
 
 Before her holy shrine 
 All other ties are weak and frail 
 
 To those that make us thine. 
 Then boldly on, our noble bark, 
 
 Xor dread the hidden rock ; 
 Thou art our freedom's holy ark, 
 
 And thou canst brave the shock. 
 Thou hast a pilot firm and true, 
 
 With steady hand to guide, 
 And, aye, thou hast a gallant crew, 
 
 In whom thou canst confide ; 
 Thine anchor is a people's love, 
 
 Where thou shalt firmly rest ; 
 
TO MY COUNTRY. 79 
 
 The spirits of thy mighty dead, 
 
 The spirits of the just, 
 Thy guardian angels from above 
 
 Watch fondly o'er their trust." 
 
 Then raise the spangled banner high, 
 
 Bid it still proudly wave, 
 And let the glorious eagle fly 
 
 Above the good and brave, 
 For 'tis the banner of the free, 
 The star-lit flag of liberty. 
 
80 TO DEATH. 
 
 TO DEATH. 
 
 Oh ! death, sweet death ! no tyrant's form 
 
 I in thy ghastly figure see, 
 Thou look'st the rainbow of the storm, 
 
 The harbinger of peace to me. 
 An angel's aspect mild and sweet 
 I in thy dreaded image meet 
 Oh ! fly from guilt, from pleasure fly, 
 And let a wretched mourner die. 
 The child of grief invokes thine aid, 
 In pity hear an orphan maid, 
 And kindly send thy friendly dart 
 To lay in peace an aching heart. 
 
 Thou art no stranger to my breast, 
 Oft hast thou robbed it of its rest ; 
 Oh ! then in mercy strike again, 
 And soothe its anguish, heal its pain, 
 
TO DEATH. 
 
 81 
 
 For see, it bleeds at every pore, 
 'Tis wounded to its very core; 
 The broken spirit, all forlorn, 
 Turns o'er its buried joys to mourn. 
 Of every hope on earth bereft, 
 Of all malignant fate had left, 
 It turns to beg, kind death, of thee 
 An asylum from misery. 
 
82 ANNO DOMINI '36. 
 
 ANNO DOMINI '36, 
 
 Ere they toll the parting knell 
 
 Let grateful tears and blessings mix 
 With my sad but fond farewell. 
 
 Fare thee well, w r e part forever, 
 Thou art rushing to the main 
 
 Of past ages, and shalt never 
 To our world return again. 
 
 / a little longer stay 
 
 On the treacherous waves of time, 
 But, like thee, must pass away 
 
 To oblivion's dark abyme. 
 
 Sweet and pleasant was our greeting, 
 As my little bark did glide 
 
 No rude storm or whirlpool meeting 
 In thy gently flowing tide. 
 
ANNO DOMINI '36. 83 
 
 Smiling heavens were shining o'er us, 
 
 Sparkling waters danced below, 
 Brightest prospects beamed before us, 
 
 Soft each favoring breeze did blow. 
 
 Health, her rosy banner waving, 
 Love and joy were in her train, 
 
 Hope came with her heavenly anchor, 
 Friendship with his golden chain. 
 
 Spirit of the passing year, 
 
 Gentle spirit prithee stay ; 
 I, without a sigh or tear 
 
 Fain would pass with thee away. 
 
 " Wouldst thou leave thy harvest growing 
 
 In its vernal beauty bright?" 
 "Aye, ere the rude storm be blowing, • 
 
 Or the mildew fall to blight." 
 
 "Wouldst thou leave thy vouthful race 
 Blooming round thy cheerful board?" 
 
 "Aye, ere time their charms deface, 
 
 Or, comes the bier, the pall, the shroud." 
 
84 
 
 Memory gives me such another, 
 Such a blessed band was mine ; 
 
 Where art thou, my sainted mother ? 
 Thou my sweetest Caroline ? 
 
 And my darling brother, say, 
 
 Father of the culprit fay ? 
 
 Nature's noblest gifts adorned ye, 
 Hearts of feeling, souls of fire 
 
 Forms of richest, rarest beauty, 
 All that love might well inspire. 
 
 Idols of my youthful love, 
 
 Ye have passed like shadows by, 
 
 And my heart has vainly strove 
 To resign ye to the sky. 
 
 Now, when with a mother's pride 
 In my treasures I'd rejoice 
 
 From the dark and silent grave 
 Comes a deep, sepulchral voice, 
 
 Crying, "Mortal, what, again 
 Making idols formed of clay, 
 
85 
 
 Hast thou then indeed forgot 
 
 Those my hand has snatched away?" 
 
 Trembling like a frighted child, 
 In my mother's lap Fd rest, 
 
 Though they be but phantoms wild 
 That my troubled soul molest. 
 
 Then, spirit of the passing year, 
 
 Gentle spirit, prithee stay, 
 I, without a sigh or tear, 
 
 Fain would pass with thee away. 
 
86 A WIFE TO HER HUSBAND 
 
 A WIFE TO HER HUSBAND IN 
 ADVERSITY. 
 
 The clouds that nature's brow deform 
 
 I view with careless eye, 
 And reckless hear the pelting storm, 
 
 And mark the light'nings fly, 
 But when the envious clouds of care 
 
 On thy loved brow I see, 
 In vain does lovely nature smile, 
 Her charms are lost on me. 
 
 Then cast thy sorrows to the wind, 
 
 And clear thy crowded brow, 
 And let me see thee smile once more 
 As thou wert wont to do. 
 
 Come, let us count our treasures o'er, 
 The treasures fate has left ; 
 
A WIFE TO HER HUSBAND. 87 
 
 There's youth, and health, and love, and hope — 
 
 We are not all bereft. 
 We've loving hearts, and kindred minds, 
 
 And hopes which dare to rise 
 On wings of faith to brighter climes, 
 To realms beyond the skies. 
 
 Then cast thy sorrows to the wind, 
 
 And clear thy clouded brow, 
 And let me see thee smile once more 
 As thou wert wont to do. 
 
 The sweetest cup of earthly joy 
 
 Has still its drops of gall, 
 And disappointment, pain, and woe, 
 
 Are mingled in them all ; 
 Vainly the exiled spirit strives 
 
 Some heavenly draught to find, 
 To slake the quenchless thirst for bliss, 
 And calm her restless mind. 
 
 Then cast thy sorrows to the wind, 
 
 And clear thy clouded brow, 
 And let me see thee smile once more 
 As thou wert wont to do. 
 
88 A WIFE TO HER HUSBAND. 
 
 Since, then, the happiest of our race 
 
 Are not more blessed than we, 
 But bear the signet of our doom, 
 
 The seal of misery. 
 Oh, let us nerve our minds to bear 
 
 The trials of our state, 
 Nor yield our spirits to despair 
 From the decrees of fate. 
 
 Chase, dearest, chase thy cares away, 
 
 And clear thy clouded brow, 
 And let me see thee smile again 
 As thou wert wont to do. 
 
GREECE. 89 
 
 GEEECE. 
 
 The standard of freedom and Greece is unfurled, 
 And she calls on the good and the brave of the 
 
 world 
 To fly to her banner, to fly and release 
 From the cruelest bondage unfortunate Greece. 
 Bright spirit of chivalry, rouse and awake, 
 'Tis woman, dear woman, thy slumber would break. 
 'Tis beauty invites thee thy sabre to draw 
 In the cause of fair freedom, religion, and law ; 
 'Tis man, noble man, for his birthright contending, 
 'Tis the cause of high heaven the Greeks are 
 
 defending ; 
 Then fly to her banner, oh, fly and release 
 From the cruelest bondage unfortunate Greece. 
 
90 GREECE. 
 
 To thee, oh, my country, how strong her appeal! 
 For suffering freedom, how freemen must feel ! 
 Tis the land of the free and the home of the 
 
 brave — 
 She is strong in her glory and potent to save. 
 By all that we love, and by all that we cherish, 
 We will not, we dare not, condemn her to perish. 
 Then fly to her aid, the example to set — 
 Go w T alk in the steps of our own Lafayette ; 
 The path that he trod has conducted to glory 
 The proudest of names on the annals of story. 
 Then fly to her banner, oh, fly and release 
 From the cruelest bondage unfortunate Greece. 
 
 Ye erudite youth, who enraptured have hung 
 O'er the soul-moving strains that her Homer has 
 
 Who are versed in the deeds of her glorious ages, 
 Have communed with her heroes, her poets, and 
 
 Oh, fly to her aid, and your succor impart 
 
 To the land of your fancy, the land of your heart ! 
 
 Oh, fly to her banner, oh, fly and release 
 
 From the cruelest bondage your own classic Greece ! 
 
GREECE. 91 
 
 Disciples of Jesus, who proudly proclaim 
 Your faith in his tenets, your joy in his name, 
 Who boast that your God left his throne in the 
 
 skies, 
 And wore your base covering of dust, 
 That ye might in honor and glory arise 
 And partake of the joys of the just ; 
 That for you he encountered derision and scorn, 
 Drank of misery's cup, wore a garland of thorn, 
 Oh! say, will you then with indiff'rence behold 
 The wolf and the tiger let loose on his fold? 
 Shall they stretch forth their arms, and assistance 
 
 implore 
 In the name of your Jesus, the God you adore ? 
 Oh, fratricide nations ! yet pause and beware 
 How ye turn a deaf ear to their heart-rending 
 
 prayer ; 
 Kemember his fiat, that mercy alone 
 For the sinner shall plead, for transgression atone, 
 Bethink 'tis your Lord to whose judgment is 
 
 brought 
 Every act of your lives, every word, every thought, 
 And say, have you nothing to ask of his grace ? 
 Is there naught for his pitying hand to efface ? 
 
92 GREECE. 
 
 Oh yes, for his tablet this deed 6hall record, 
 How his suffering people by you were restored, 
 How ye flew to their succor, their fetters ye broke, 
 And the Christian redeemed from the Mussulman's 
 
 yoke. 
 Then fly to her banner, oh, fly and release 
 From the crudest bondage unfortunate Greece ! 
 
LINES WRITTEN AT FIFTEEN. 93 
 
 LINES WRITTEN AT FIFTEEN. 
 
 She was a simple maid of modest mien, 
 Unskilled in arts of coquetry, I ween, 
 And timid as a fawn. The vulgar eye 
 Had passed the unobtrusive maiden by ; 
 And yet that bashful mien and manner shy, 
 Concealed a dauntless heart and spirit high, 
 A spirit glowing with heroic fire, 
 That to the noblest actions might aspire. 
 They met as strangers meet: 
 
 He with bland courtesy 
 The gentle girl did greet, 
 
 And passed her carelessly ; 
 But she, that maiden meek, 
 
 With downcast eye — 
 What meant that burning cheek 
 And stifled sigh? 
 
94 LINES WRITTEN AT FIFTEEN. 
 
 Why do the tides of life 
 
 Thus madly play ? 
 Why is her spirit sad 
 
 That erst so gay 
 Laughed in the sunshine 
 
 'Mid the golden gleam 
 Of her young fancies — 
 
 A romantic dream ? 
 She loved, aye, madly loved ; 
 
 But vain the task 
 Of woman's heart, 
 
 The why she loves, to ask. 
 
 They met, he passed her by 
 With a cold aspect and a roving eye, 
 
 Nor knew, to him was given 
 
 That richest boon of heaven — 
 
 A faithful, loving heart, 
 With all its gushing 
 Springs of tenderness ! 
 
 Deep truth, and holy faith, 
 
 And never-dying love ! 
 
 They met, he passed her by 
 With a cold aspect and a roving eye! 
 
TO ISABELLA. 95 
 
 TO ISABELLA. 
 
 I ask no sculptor's aid, nor limner's art, 
 To give thine image graven on my heart ; 
 A thousand lovely likenesses I see, 
 And each a faithful semblance, dear, to thee, 
 Affection's glowing hand thy form will trace, 
 With each loved feature of thy speaking face, 
 And the sad heart will o'er the memory swell, 
 As busy memory whispers, Bell ! dear Bell ! 
 And when my imps pursue their gambols wild, 
 
 Till the roof echoes with their noisy glee, 
 I think, when thou wert playful as a child, 
 
 And merriest of the merry group would be, 
 Then will my heart with soft remembrance swell, 
 While busy memory w r hispers Bell ! dear Bell ! 
 
96 TO MY SONS. 
 
 TO MY SONS, 
 
 ON GOING TO THE RESCUE OF GENERAL TAYLOR. 
 
 'Tis your country that calls you, 
 
 Her summons obey ; 
 Away to the rescue, 
 
 My brave boys, away. 
 
 No cravens are ye, 
 
 When her trumpet shall sound, 
 'Mid her gallant defenders 
 
 Be first on the ground — 
 
 With spirits as light 
 
 And as buoyant as air, 
 As bold as the lion, 
 
 As fleet as the deer. 
 
9 
 
 TO MY SONS. 97 
 
 For jour country has called you, 
 
 Her summons obey; 
 Away to the rescue, 
 
 My brave boys, away. 
 
 Though with many a pang 
 
 It may burden my heart, 
 Crowned with love and with blessings 
 
 My children depart. 
 
 To the great God of battles, 
 
 That rules in the skies, 
 To the great God of battles 
 
 My prayers shall arise, 
 
 To guide and to guard you 
 
 Wherever you rove, 
 And in safety restore me 
 
 The sons of my love. 
 
 Then away to the battle, 
 
 My brave boys, away, 
 'Tis your country that calls you, 
 
 Her summons obey. 
 
98 OLD BUSTLE HALL. 
 
 OLD BUSTLE HALL. 
 
 Our happy home — old Bustle Hall, 
 'Twas named in days of yore, 
 
 When the noisy beat of children's feet 
 Eesounded on the floor. 
 
 When childhood's happy voices blent, 
 And forth its joyous spirit sent, 
 
 And all was mirth and revelry, 
 The merry rout, the laugh, the shout, 
 
 'Till the house was wild with glee, 
 And the roof echoed with the noise 
 Of laughing girls, and romping boys. 
 That merry din is heard no more ; 
 The song, the dance, the laugh, are o'er 
 And now 'tis solemn silence all, 
 Li our noisy home, old Bustle Hall. 
 
OLD BUSTLE HALL. 99 
 
 The father sat in his old arm-chair, 
 
 And the mother was by his side, 
 With a band of children gathered there, 
 
 That father's hope and pride, 
 And love and joy beamed in his face 
 As he smiled and blessed his blooming race ; 
 For sure around that nursery hearth 
 Was the happiest group on the face of the earth. 
 
 That old arm-chair, the father's throne, 
 Is vacant now, that group is gone 
 
 That filled the house with glee, 
 And the widowed mother sits alone 
 
 In her silent nursery ; 
 And every joyous sound has fled, 
 For the house mourns her hallowed dead, 
 And now 'tis solemn silence all 
 In our happy home, old Bustle Hall. 
 
100 TO MY ELDEST SOX 
 
 TO MY ELDEST SOX, 
 
 R E T U R N I N G FROM THE ARMY. 
 
 A welcome from the bloody field, 
 
 My own, my darling boy, 
 The record of your daring deeds 
 
 Has filled my heart with joy. 
 
 Well have you battled for the land, 
 
 And nobly have you won 
 The soldier's meed of well-earned praise, 
 
 My brave, my gallant son. 
 
 Full many an anxious hour has passed 
 
 Since to my aching breast, 
 With many a sad and fond farewell, 
 
 My warrior boys I pressed. 
 
TO MY ELDEST SON. 101 
 
 Your father on his sick bed lay, 
 
 Upon his bed of pain ; 
 I deemed that ye would never see 
 
 That father's face again. 
 
 And I was desolate, while ye 
 
 My pride, my hope, my stay, 
 Were hurrying to the bloody field, 
 
 Far from your home away. 
 
 For the foe was on our borders, 
 
 And our gallant little band 
 Was threatened with destruction, 
 
 And dishonor to the land. 
 
 The lovely banner of the free, 
 
 Our glorious standard-sheet, 
 Must it be trampled in the dust, 
 
 Beneath our foemen's feet? 
 
 The mother and the patriot 
 
 Long struggled in my heart; 
 My country won the victory — 
 
 I bade my sons depart, 
 
 9* 
 
102 TO MY ELDEST SOX. 
 
 I bade ye to her rescue fly, 
 
 Be foremost in the fray, 
 And win fresh laurels for the land ; 
 
 And well did ye obey. 
 
 Sorrow and death were in my house, 
 The shroud, the bier, the pall ! 
 
 The king of terrors took my babe 
 And boldly menaced all. 
 
 My days were past in troubled thought, 
 
 And agonizing fears ; 
 I tossed upon my sleepless bed, 
 
 My pillow bathed in tears. 
 
 I've seen ye in the prison-house, 
 I've seen ye racked with pain, 
 
 I've watched beside your dying bed, 
 I've seen ye 'midst the slain. 
 
 But now I hold you to my heart, 
 And fain would clasp another; 
 
 Why stays he on the bloody field ? 
 Why stays he from his mother? 
 
TO MY ELDEST SON. 103 
 
 Then welcome to your happy home, 
 
 My brave, my gallant boy, 
 The record of your daring deeds 
 
 Has filled my heart with joy. 
 
 Now, to the God of battles, 
 Who rules the earth and skies ; 
 
 To whom my fervent prayers were sent, 
 Let heartfelt thanks arise. 
 
 Hosannahs to the Lord of hosts, 
 
 Hosannahs to our King ; 
 From the deep fountains of the heart 
 
 The heart's pure incense bring. 
 
 Xote. — The eldest son returned after the battle of Monterey ; 
 the second, who was also in that battle, went with General 
 Worth's division to Vera Cruz, and thence towards the city of 
 Mexico. He was in that campaign until and including the , battle 
 Cerro Gordo; thereafter he returned. Both these sons afterwards 
 preceded their mother to the grave. 
 
104 A MOTHER TO HER SONS, 
 
 A MOTHER TO HER SONS ON THEIR 
 MARRIAGE. 
 
 Her task of love is o'er, 
 
 They need her care no more, 
 Her faithful vigils has she kept, 
 
 Those vigils now are o'er. 
 
 She has fed them from her bosom, 
 And through their tender years 
 
 Watched o'er them with a mother's love 
 A mother's hopes and fears. 
 
 With many a goodly precept 
 
 Hath she stored each ductile mind, 
 
 Taught their duty to their Maker, 
 And their duty to their kind. 
 
A MOTHER TO HER SONS. 105 
 
 And now, in youthful vigor, 
 
 They are standing by her side, 
 In manhood's strength and glory, 
 
 In youthful manhood's pride. 
 
 They have souls of dauntless courage, 
 
 And honor without stain ; 
 Their own rights and their country's rights 
 
 Will fearlessly maintain. 
 
 How fares it with thee, mother — 
 
 The tears are in thine eyes, 
 There's sorrow on that aged brow, 
 
 Thy bosom heaves with sighs? 
 
 Oh, fond and jealous mother! 
 
 And dost thou then repine 
 That other, and that younger love 
 
 Should sway those hearts of thine? 
 
 Aye, fond and jealous mother, 
 
 Thy reign of love is o'er, 
 And thou canst never be again 
 
 What thou hast been of yore. 
 
106 A MOTHER TO HER SONS. 
 
 But wouldst thou keep them children still, 
 As lingering round thy knee, 
 
 Thy kiss the cure of every ill? 
 This may not, cannot be. 
 
 'Tis nature's law, then murmur not, 
 
 But with becoming grace 
 To other and to younger love, 
 
 Fond mother, yield thy place. 
 
 And wipe those foolish tears away, 
 
 Bid selfishness depart ; 
 Look only to thy children's weal, 
 
 The darlings of thy heart. 
 
 Then blessings may their new love bring, 
 And may their coming years, 
 
 With health and gladness on their wing, 
 Bring joy undimmed by tears. 
 
 May sweet, domestic peace be theirs, 
 To guard love's sacred fires ; 
 
 And may the scions of my house 
 Be worthy of their sires. 
 
MY LITTLE GRANDSON. 107 
 
 MY LITTLE GKANDSON. 
 
 A FRAGMENT. 
 
 Giye me thy tiny palm, my darling boy, 
 
 And I will read thy destiny. 
 
 Would'st thou then with impious hand unveil his 
 
 future ? 
 Presumptuous ! knowest thou not suffering and 
 
 sorrow, 
 Pale disease, and death, lie hid beneath that 
 
 curtain ? 
 Destroy not life's illusions ! leave the future 
 Shrouded in mystery. Let fancy throw 
 Her rainbow tints around, and hope, with golden 
 
 sunshine, 
 Gild the clouds that hang about it. 
 Still my curious mind demands what art thou? 
 
108 MY LITTLE GRANDSON. 
 
 Art thou of those the early called to their 
 Celestial home : earth's pilgrims of an hour, 
 And summoned hence to the abode of angels, 
 There to dwell forever in the presence of their God ? 
 Art thou of those, the master-spirits that control 
 The world, bending the will of others to their own, 
 Swaying the multitude, even as the wind 
 Doth sway the sapling? If such thou art. 
 Heaven grant thee wisdom to direct thy course, 
 And virtue, lest the godlike gift of power 
 Should be perverted unto selfish ends, 
 And thou become a tyrant. 
 Art thou of those, the sons of generous valor, 
 Such as stand between the country and her foes, 
 Defenders of her rights, avengers of her wrongs, 
 And guardians of her sacred honor. 
 
 Ave, thou shalt be a hero. 
 
TO MY MUSE. 109 
 
 TO MY MUSE. 
 
 And dost thou my call refuse, 
 Friend of my life, my gentle muse ? 
 Have I not loved thee all too well, 
 And owned through life thy magic spell? 
 A lisping child I learned from thee 
 Sweet nature's holy minstrelsy ; 
 "With thee I worshipped at her shrine 
 And owned her lovely face divine, 
 Drank draught of beauty, and the while 
 Drew inspiration from her smile. 
 Little knew we of arts and rules, 
 Or cared for critics or the schools ; 
 'Twas nature's impulse keenly felt, 
 Making the heart to glow and melt, 
 And like the wild bird on the spray, 
 We carolled forth our untaught lay ; 
 10 
 
110 TO MY MUSE. 
 
 And when obtrusive step was heard, 
 Hushed was the music of the bird. 
 Hope's syren song is heard no more, 
 And love's enchanting dream is o'er, 
 Youth and the joys of youth are fled, 
 And all the charm of life is dead, 
 And wilt thou, too, my friend depart, 
 ]STor stay to cheer my weary heart, 
 Oh, stay, and with thy lay divine 
 Soothe the sad hours of life's decline ! 
 
 THE END. 
 
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