^> ^ ,/ v -- ^ 'O '' '^ % W- '/ M V^AM* -:*' / ^ J f, r; > / ^. \ - -% '" V v- : T-, ;\ .: '\ University of California Berkeley -4 -' A ' : ' ^Ib wmmm *- /i i '<,.-\Y - ''^ ^K^mm \ raov ou Majors and Minors: : : : POEMS : : : BY PAUL LAWRENCE DUNBAR. Hadley & Hadley, Printers and Binders, Toledo, Ohio. As my first faint pipings were inscribed to her, I deem it fitting, as a further recognition of my love and obligation, that I should also dedicate these later songs to . MY MOTHER, Copyrighted, J895. Majors : : : : and : : : : Minors* Majors and Minors. 3one. PART I. Ah, yes, 'tis sweet to still remember, Though 'twere less painful to forget ; For while my heart glows like an ember, Mine eyes with sorrow's drops are wet, And oh, my heart is aching yet. It is a law of mortal pain, That old wounds, long accounted well, Beneath the memory's potent spell, Will wake to life and bleed again. So 'tis with me ; it might be better, If I should turn to look behind, If I could curb my heart, and fetter From reminiscent gaze my mind, Or let my soul go blind go blind ! But would I do it if I could, Nay ! Ease at such a price were spurned, For, since my love was once returned, All that I suffer seemeth good. MAJORS AND MINORS. I know, I know it is the fashion, When love has left some heart distressed, To weight the air with wordful passion : But I am glad that in my breast I ever held so dear a guest. Love does not come at every nod, Or every voice that calleth " hasten," He seeketh out some heart to chasten, And whips it, wailing up to God ! Love is no random road wayfarer Who where he may must sip his glass. Love is the King, the Purple-wearer, Whose guard recks not of tree or grass To blaze the way that he may pass. What if my heart be in the blast That heralds his triumphant way ; Shall I repine, shall I not say : " Rejoice, my heart, the King has passed !" In life, each heart holds some sad story The saddest ones are never told. I too, have dreamed of fame and glory And viewed the future bright with gold; But that is as a tale long told. Mine eyes have lost their youthful flash, My cunning hand has lost its art ; I am not old, but in my heart, The ember lies beneath the ash. MAJORS AND MINORS. I loved ! Why not ? My heart was youthful, My mind was filled with healthy thought. He doubts not whose own self is truthful, Doubt by dishonesty is taught ; So loved I boldly, fearing naught. I did not walk this lowly earth ; Mine was a newer, higher sphere Where youth was long and life was dear, And all save love was little worth. Her likeness ! Would that I might limn it As Love did with enduring art ; Nor dust of days, nor death may dim it, Where it lies graven on my heart, Of this sad fabric of my life a part. I would that I might paint her now As I beheld her in that day, Ere her first bloom had passed away. And left the lines upon her brow. A face serene that beaming brightly, Disarmed the hot sun's glances bold. A foot that kissed the ground so lightly, He frowned in wrath and deemed her cold, But loved her still though he was old. A form where every maiden grace Bloomed to perfection's richest now'r , The statued pose of conscious pow'r, Like lithe-limbed Dian's of the chase. 10 MAJORS AND MINORS. Beneath a brow too fair for frowning, Like moon-lit deeps that glass the skies Till all the hosts above seem drowning, Looked forth her steadfast hazel eyes, With gaze serene and purely wise. And over all, her tresses rare, Which, when with his desire grown weak, The Night bent down to kiss her cheek, Entrapped and held him captive there. This was lone : a spirit finer Ne'er burned to ash its house of clay ; A soul instinct with fire diviner Ne'er fled athwart the tace of day, And tempted Time with earthly stay. Her loveliness was not alone Of face and form and tresses' hue ; For aye a pure, high soul shone through Her every act ; this was lone. PART II. 'Twas in the radiant summer weather, When God looked, smiling, from the sky ; And we went wand'ring much together By wood and lane, lone and I ; Attracted by the subtle tie Of common thoughts and common tastes, Of eyes whose vision saw the same, And freely granted beauty's claim, Where others saw but worthless wastes. MAJORS AND MINORS. 11 We paused to hear the far bells ringing Across the distance, sweet and clear. We listened to the wild bird singing The song he meant for his mate's ear, And deemed our chance to do so, dear. We loved to watch the warrior Sun, With flaming shield and flaunting crest, Go striding down the gory West, When Day's long fight was fought and won. And life became a different story, Where'er I looked, I saw new light. Earth's self assumed a greater glory, Mine eyes were cleared to fuller sight. Then first I saw the need and might Of that fair band, the singing throng, Who gifted with the skill, divine, Take up the threads of life, spun fine, And weave them into soulful song. They sung for me, whose passion pressing My soul, found vent in song nor line. They bore the burden of expressing All that I felt, with art's design. And every word of theirs was mine. I read them to lone, oftimes By hill and shore, beneath fair skies, And she looked deeply in mine eyes, And knew my love spoke through their rhymes. 12 MAJORS AND MINORS. Her life was like the stream that floweth, And mine was like the waiting sea ; Her love was like the flower that bloweth, And mine was like the searching bee I found her sweetness all for me. God plied him in the mint of time, And coined for us a golden day, And rolled it ringing down life's way With love's sweet music in its chime. And God unclasped the Book of Ages, And laid it open to our sight ; Upon the dimness of its pages, So long consigned to rayless night, He shed the glory of his light. We read them well, we read them long And ever thrilling did we see That love ruled all humanity, The master passion, pure and strong. PART III. To-day my skies are bare and ashen, And bend on me without a beam. Since love is held the master-passion, Its loss must be the pain supreme And grinning Fate has wrecked my dream. But pardon, dear departed guest, I will not rant, I will not rail ; For good the grain must feel the flail ; There are, whom love has never blessed. MAJORS AND MINORS. 13 I had and have a younger brother, One whom I loved and love to-day As never fond and doting mother Adored the babe who found its way From Heavenly scenes into her day. Oh, he was full of youth's new wine A man on life's ascending slope, Flushed with ambition, full of hope ; And ever} 7 wish of his was mine. A kingly youth ; the way before him Was thronged with victories to be won ; So joyous, too, the heavens o'er him Were bright with an unchanging sun His days with rhyme were overrun. Toil had not taught him Nature's prose, Tears had not dimmed his brilliant eyes, And sorrow had not made him wise ; His life was in the budding rose. I know not how I came to waken, Some instinct pricked my soul to sight ; My heart by some vague thrill was shaken, A thrill so true and yet so slight, I hardly deemed I read aright. As when a sleeper, ign'rant why, Not knowing what mysterious hand Has called him out of slumberland, Starts up to find some danger nigh. 14 MAJORS AND MINORS. Love is a guest that comes, unbidden, But having come, asserts his right, He will not be repressed nor hidden. And so my brother's dawning plight Became uncovered to my sight. Some sound mote in his passing tone, Caught in the meshes of my ear ; Some little glance, a shade too dear Betrayed the love he bore lone. What could I do ? He was my brother, And young, and full of hope and trust ; I could not, dared not try to smother His flame, and turn his heart to dust. I knew how oft life gives a crust To starving men who cry for bread ; But he was young, so few his days, He had not learned the great world's ways, Nor Disappointment's volumes read. However fair and rich the booty, I could not make his loss my gain. For love is dear, but dearer, duty, And here my way was clear and plain. I saw how I could save him pain. And so with all my day grown dim, That this loved brother's sun might shine, I joined his suit, gave over mine, And sought lone, to plead for him. MAJORS AND MINORS. 15 I found her in an eastern bower, Where all day long the am'rous sun Lay by to woo a timid flower. This day his course was well nigh run. But still with lingering art he spun Gold fancies on the shadowed wall. The vines waved soft and green above. And there where one might tell his love. I told my pangs I told her all. I told her all and as she hearkened, A tear-drop fell upon her dress. With grief her flushing brow was darkened ; One sob that she could not repress Betrayed the depths ol her distress. Upon her griei my sorrow fed, And I was bowed with unlived years. My heart swelled with a sea of tears. The tears my manhood could not shed. The world is Rome and Fate is Nero, Disporting in the hour of doom. God made us men ; times make the hero But in that awful space of gloom, I gave no thought but sorrow's room. All all was dim within that bow'r, What time the sun divorced the day : And all the shadows, glooming gray, Proclaimed the sadness of the hour. 16 MAJORS AND MINORS. She could not speak no word was needed ; Her look, half strength and half despair, Told me I had not vainly pleaded, That she would not ignore my prayer. And so, she turned and left me there, And as she went, so passed my bliss ; She loved me, I could not mistake But for her own and my love's sake, Her womanhood could rise to this. My wounded heart fled swift to cover, And life at times seemed very drear. My brother proved an ardent lover What had so young a man to fear? He wed lone within the year. No shadow clouds her tranquil brow, Men speak her husband's name with pride, While she sits honored at his side She is she must be happy now ! I doubt the course I took no longer, Since those I love seem satisfied. The bond between them will grow stronger As they go forward, side by side ; Then will my pains be justified. Their joy is mine and that is best I am not totally bereft ; For I have still the mem'ry left Love stopped with me A Royal Guest ! MAJORS AND MINORS. 17 ^rebettck Douglass. A hush is over all the teeming lists, And there is pause, a breath-space in the strife ; A spirit brave has passed beyond the mists And vapors that obscure the sun of life. And Ethiopia, with bosom torn, Laments the passing of her noblest born. She weeps for him a mother's burning tears She loved him with a mother's deepest love He was her champion thro' direful years, And held her weal all other ends above. When Bondage held her bleeding in the dust, He raised her up and whispered, "Hope and Trust." For her his voice, a fearless clarion, rung That broke in warning on the ears of men ; For her the strong bow of his pow'r he strung And sent his arrows to the very den Where grim Oppression held his bloody place And gloated o'er the mis'ries of a race. And he was no soft-tongued apologist ; He spoke straight-forward, fearlessly unco wed ; The sunlight of his truth dispelled the mist And set in bold relief each dark-hued cloud ; To sin and crime he gave their proper hue, And hurled at evil what was evil's due. 18 MAJORS AND MINORS. Thro' good and ill report he cleaved his way Right onward, with his face set toward the heights, Nor feared to face the foeman's dread array The lash of scorn, the sting oi petty spites. He dared the lightning in the lightning's track, And answered thunder with his thunder back. When men maligned him and their torrent wrath In furious imprecations o'er him broke, He kept his counsel as he kept his path ; 'Twas for his race, not for himself, he spoke. He knew the import of his Master's call And felt himself too mighty to be small. No miser in the good he held was he His kindness followed his horizon's rim. His heart, his talents and his hands were free To all who truly needed aught of him. Where poverty and ignorance were rife, He gave his bounty as he gave his life. The place and cause that first aroused his might Still proved its pow'r until his latest day. In Freedom's lists and for the aid of Right Still in the foremost rank he waged the fray ; Wrong lived ; His occupation was not gone. He died in action with his armor on ! We weep for him, but we have touched his hand,. And felt the magic of his presence nigh, The current that he sent thro' out the land, The kindling spirit of his battle-cry MAJORS AND MINORS, 19 O'er all that holds us we shall triumph yet And place our banner where his hopes were set ! Oh, Douglass, thou hast passed beyond the shore, But still thy voice is ringing o'er the gale ! Thou 'bt taught thy race how high her hopes may soar And bade her seek the heights, nor faint, nor fail. She will not fail, she heeds thy stirring cry, She knows thy guardian spirit will be nigh, And rising from beneath the chast'ning rod, She stretches out her bleeding hands to God ! (ome. The change has come and Helen sleeps Not sleeps ; but wakes to greater deeps Of wisdom, glory, truth and light, That ever blessed her seeking sight, In this low, long, lethargic night, Worn out with strife, Which men call life. The change has come, and who would say,? " I would it were not come to-day." What were the respite till to-morrow Postponement of a certain sorrow, From which each passing day would borrow ? Let grief be dumb, The change has come. 20 MAJORS AND MINORS. Dream days of fond delight and hours, As ros^-hued as dawn, are mine. Love's drowsy wine, Brewed from the heart of Passion flowers. Flows warmly o'er my lips And save thee, all the world is in eclipse. There were no light if thou wert not ; The sun would be too sad too shine, And all the line Of hours from dawn would be a blot; And Night would haunt the skies, An unlaid ghost with staring dark-ringed eyes. Oh, love if thou wert not my love, And I perchance not thine what then ? Could gift of men Or favor of the God above, Plant ought in this bare heart Or teach this tongue the singer's soulful art ? Ah, no ! 'Tis love, and love alone That spurs my soul so surely on ; Turns night to dawn, And thorns to roses fairest blown ; And winter drear to spring Oh were it not for love I could not sing ! MAJORS AND MINORS. 21 XDe IDear tr/e ItTask. We wear the mask that grins and lies, It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes This debt we pay to human guile ; With torn and bleeding hearts we smile And mouth with myriad subtleties, Why should the world be over-wise. In counting all our tears and sighs ? Nay, let them only see us, while We wear the mask. We smile, but oh great Christ, our cries To Thee from tortured souls arise. We sing, but oh the clay is vile Beneath our feet, and long the mile, But let the world dream otherwise, We wear the mask ! fye Poet anb fys Song. A song is but a little thing And yet what joy it is to sing. In hours of toil it gives me zest, And when at eve I long for rest ; When cows come home along the bars, And in the fold I hear the bell, As Night, the shepherd, herds his stars, I sing my song and all is well. 22 MAJORS AND MINORS. There are no ears to hear my lays, No lips to lift a word of praise ; But still with faith unfaltering, I live and laugh and love and sing. What matters yon unheeding throng ? They cannot feel my spirit's spell, Since life is sweet and love is long, I sing my song and all is well. My days are never days 'of ease, I till my ground and prune my trees. When ripened gold is all the plain, I put my sickle to the grain. I labor hard and toil and sweat, While others dream within the dell ; But even while my brow is wet, I sing my song and all is well. Sometimes the sun, unkindly hot, My garden makes a desert spot. Sometimes a blight upon the tree Takes all my fruit away from me ; And then with throes of bitter pain Rebellious passions rise and swell ; But life is more than fruit or grain, And so I sing, and all is well. MAJORS AND MINORS. 23 (Dbe to (Ethiopia. Mother Race ! to thee I bring This pledge of faith unwavering, This tribute to thy glory. 1 know the pangs which thou didst feel, When Slavery crushed thee with its heel, With thy dear blood all gory. Sad days were those ah, sad indeed ! But through the land the fruitful seed Of better times was growing. The plant of freedom upward sprung, And spread its leaves so fresh and young- Its blossoms now are blowing. On every hand in this fair land, Proud Ethiope's swarthy children stand Beside their fairer neighbor ; The forests flee before their stroke, Their hammers ring, their forges smoke, They stir in honest labor. They tread the fields where honor calls ; Their voices sound through senate halls In majesty and power. To right they cling ; the hymns they sing Up to the skies in beauty ring, And bolder grow each hour. 24 MAJORS AND MINORS. Be proud my Race, in mind and soul ; Thy name is writ on Glory's scroll In characters of fire. High 'mid the clouds of Fame's bright sky Thy banner's blazoned folds now fly, And truth shall lift them higher. Thou hast the right to noble pride, Whose spotless robes were purified By blood's severe baptism. Upon thy brow the cross was laid, And labor's painful sweat-beads made A consecrating chrism. No other race, or white or black, When bound as thou wert, to the rack, So seldom stooped to grieving ; No other race, when free again, Forgot the past and proved them men So noble in forgiving. Go on and up ! Our souls and eyes Shall follow thy continuous rise ; Our ears shall list thy story From bards who from thy root shall spring, And proudly tune their lyres to sing Of Ethiopia's glory. MAJORS AND MINORS. 25 Day. The air is dark, the sky is gray, The misty shadows come and go, And here within my dusky room Each chair looks ghostly in the gloom. Outside the rain falls cold and slow Half-stinging drops, half-blinding spray. Each slightest sound is magnified. For drowsy quiet holds her reign ; The burnt stick in the fireplace breaks, The nodding cat with start awakes, And then to sleep drops off again, Unheeding Towser at her side. I look far out across the lawn, Where huddled stand the silly sheep ; My work lies idle at my hands, My thoughts fly out like scattered strands Of thread, and on the verge of sleep Still half awake I dream and yawn. What spirits rise before my eyes ! How various of kind and form ! Sweet memories of days long past, The dreams of youth that could not last, Each smiling calm, each raging storm, That swept across my early skies. 26 MAJORS AND MINORS. Half seen, the bare, gaunt-fingered boughs Before my window sweep and sway, And chafe in tortures of unrest. My chin sinks down upon my breast ; I cannot work on such a day, But only sit and dream and drowse. SparrotD. A little bird, with plumage brown, Beside my window nutters down, A moment chirps its little strain, Then taps upon my window pane, And chirps again, and hops along, To call my notice to its song ; But I work on, nor heed its lay, Till, in neglect, it flies away. So birds of peace and hope and love Come fluttering earthward from above, To settle on life's window sills, And ease our load of earthly ills ; But we, in traffic's rush and din Too deep engaged to let them in, With deadened heart and sense plod on, Nor know our loss till they are gone. MAJORS AND MINORS. 27 Sunset. The river sleeps beneath the sky, And clasps the shadows to its breast ; The crescent moon shines dim on high ; And in the lately radiant west The gold is fading into gray. Now stills the lark his festive lay And mourns with me the dying day, While in the south the first faint star Lilts to the night its silver face, And twinkles to the moon afar Across the heaven's graying space ; Low murmurs reach me from the town, As Day puts on her somber crown, And shakes her mantle darkly down. Columbian (D6e. I Four hundred years ago a tangled waste Lay sleeping on the west Atlantic side ; Their devious ways the Old World's millions traced Content, and loved, and labored, dared and died, While students still believed the charts they conned, And reveled in their thriftless ignorance, Nor dreamed of other lands that lay beyond Old Ocean's dense, indefinite expanse. 28 MAJORS AND MINORS. II But deep within her heart old Nature knew That she had once arrayed, at Earth's behest, Another offspring, fine and fair to view, The chosen suckling of the mother's breast. The child was wrapped in vestments soft and fine, Each fold a work of Nature's matchless art ; The mother looked on it with love divine, And strained the loved one closely to her heart. And there it lay, and with the warmth grew strong And hearty, by the salt sea breezes fanned, Till Time with mellowing touches passed along, And changed the infant to a mighty land. Ill But men knew naught of this, till there arose That mighty mariner, the Genoese, Who dared to try, in spite of fears and foes, The unknown fortunes of unsounded seas. O noblest of Italia's sons, thy bark Went not alone into that shrouding night, dauntless darer of the rayless dark, The world sailed with thee to eternal light. The deer haunts that with game were crowded then To-da,y are tilled and cultivated lands ; The schoolhouse tow'rs where bruin had his den, And where the wigwam stood the chapel stands ; The place that nurtured men of savage mien Now teems with men of Nature's noblest types ; Where moved the forest-foliage banner green, Now nutters in the breeze the stars and stripes ! MAJORS AND MINORS. 29 Cark. Though the winds be dank, And the sky be sober, And the grieving day In a mantle gray Hath led her waiting maiden robe her, All the fields along I can hear the song Of the meadow lark, As she flits and flutters, And laughs at the thunder when it mutters. happy bird, of heart most gay To sing when skies are gray ! When the clouds are full, And the tempest master Lets the loud winds sweep From his bosom deep Like heralds of some dire disaster ; Then the heart alone, To itself makes moan ; And the songs come slow, While the tears fall fleeter, And silence than song by far seems sweeter. Oh, few are they along the way Who sing when skies are gray ! 30 MAJORS AND MINORS. tEfye Seebltng. As a quiet little seedling Lay within its darksome bed r To itself it fell a talking, And this is what it said : " I am not so very robust, But I'll do the best I can "; And the seedling from that moment Its work of life began. First it pushed a little leaflet Up into the light of day, To examine the surroundings And show the rest the way. The leaflet liked the prospect, So it called its brother Stem ; Then two other leaflets heard it, And quickly followed them. To be sure, the haste and hurry Made the seedling sweat and pant ; But almost before it knew it It found itself a plant. The sunshine poured upon it, And the clouds they gave a shower ;: And the little plant kept growing Till it found itself a flower. MAJORS AND MINORS. 31 Little folks, be like the seedling, Always do the best you can ; Every child must share life's labor Just as well as every man. And the sun and showers will help you Through the lonesome, struggling hours, Till you raise to light and beauty Virtue's fair, unfading flowers. Cifc. A crust of bread and a corner to sleep in, A minute to smile and an hour to weep in, A pint of joy to a peck of trouble, And never a laugh but the moans come double ; And that is life ! A crust and a corner that love makes precious, With the smile to warm and the tears to refresh us ; And joy seems sweeter when cares come after, And a moan is the finest of foils for laughter ; And that is life ! Ctme. The cloud looked in at the window, And said to the day, " Be dark !" And the roguish rain tapped hard on the pane To stifle the song of the lark. 32 MAJORS AND MINORS. The wind sprang up in the tree tops And shrieked with a voice of death, But the rough-voiced breeze, that shook the trees, Was touched with a violet's breath. ^abes a Dream? Why fades a' dream ? An iridescent ray Flecked in between the tryst ' Of night and day. Why fades a dream ? Of consciousness the shade Wrought out by lack of light and made Upon life's stream. Why fades a dream ? That thought may thrive, So fades the fleshless dream ; Lest men should learn to trust The things that seem. So fades a dream, That living thought may grow And like a waxing star-beam glow Upon life's stream So fades a dream. MAJORS AND MINORS. 33 f?e Secret. What says the wind to the waving trees ? What says the wave to the river ? What means the sigh in the passing breeze ? Why do the rushes quiver ? Have you not heard the fainting cry Of the flowers that said " Good bye, good bye ?" List how the gray dove moans and grieves Under the woodland cover ; List to the drift of the falling leaves, List to the wail of the lover. Have you not caught the message heard Already by wave and breeze and bird ? Come, come away to the river's bank, Come in the early morning ; Come when the grass with dew is dank, There you will find the warning A hint in the kiss of the quickening air Of the secret that birds and breezes bear. ^e I}ab fys Dream. He had his dream, and all through life Worked up to it through toil and strife. Afloat fore'er before his eyes, 34 MAJORS AND MINORS. It colored for him all his skies : The storm-cloud dark Above his barque, The calm and listless vault of blue Took on its hopeful hue, Is tinctured every golden beam He had his dream. He labored hard and failed at last, His sails too weak to bear the blast. The raging tempests tore away And sent his beating barque astray. But what cared he For wind or sea ! He said, " The tempest will be short, My barque will come to port." He saw through every cloud a gleam- He had his dream. Ct (Ereeb ana Hot a (Ereeb. TO J. E. ILIFF. I am no priest of crooks nor creeds, For human wants and human needs Are more to me than prophets' deeds And human tears and human cares Affect me more than human prayers. MAJORS AND MINORS. 35 Go, cease your wail, lugubrious saint ! You fret high Heaven with your plaint. Is this the " Christian's joy " you paint? Is this the Christian's boasted bliss ? Avails your faith no more than this ? Take up your arms, come out with me, Let Heav'n alone ; humanity Needs more and Heaven less from thee. With pity for mankind look 'round ; Help them to rise and Heaven is found. Beyonb tfye years. i. Beyond the years the answer lies, Beyond where brood the grieving skies And Night drops tears. Where Faith rod-chastened smiles to rise And doff its fears, And carping Sorrow pines and dies Beyond the years. II. Beyond the years, the prayer for rest Shall beat no more within the breast ; The darkness clears, And Morn perched on the mountain's crest Her form uprears The day that is to come is best, Beyond the years. 36 MAJORS AND MINORS. III. Beyond the years, the soul shall find That endless peace for which it pined, For light appears, And to the eyes that still were blind With blood and tears, Their sight shall come all unconfined Beyond the years. Dirge. Place this bunch of mignonette In her cold, dead hand : When the golden sun is set, Where the poplars stand, Bury her from sun and day, Lay my little love away From my sight. She was like a modest flower Blown in sunny June, Warm as sun at noon's high hour- Chaster than the moon. Ah, her day was brief and bright, Earth has lost a star of light. She is dead. MAJORS AND MINORS. 37 Softly breathe her name to me, Ah, I loved her so. Gentle let your tribute be, None may better know Her true worth than I who weep O'er her as she lies asleep Soft asleep. Lay these lilies on her breast, They are not more white Than the soul of her, at rest 'Neath their petals bright. Chant your aves soft and low, Solemn be your tread and slow, She is dead. Lay her here beneath the grass, Cool and green and sweet, Where the gentle brook may pass Crooning at her feet. Nature's bards shall come and sing, And the fairest flowers shall spring Where she lies. Safe above the waters swirl, She has crossed the bar ; Earth has lost a precious pearl, Heaven has gained a star, That shall ever sing and shine, Till it quells this grief of mine For my love. 38 MAJORS AND MINORS. Coloreb SoIMers. If the muse were mine to tempt it And my feeble voice were strong, If my tongue were trained to measures, I would sing a stirring song. I would sing a song heroic Of those noble sons of Ham, Of the gallant colored soldiers Who fought for Uncle Sam ! In the early days you scorned them, And with many a flip and flout, 'Said "these battles are the white man's And the whites will fight them out." Up the hills you fought and faltered, In the vales you strove and bled, While your ears still heard the thunder Of the foes' increasing tread. Then distress fell on the nation And the flag was drooping low ; Should the dust pollute your banner ? No ! the nation shouted, No ! So when war, in savage triumph, Spread abroad his funeral pall Then you called the colored soldiers, And they answered to your call. MAJORS AND MINORS. 39 And like hounds unleashed and eager For the life blood of the prey, Sprung they forth and bore them bravely In the thickest of the fray. And where'er the fight was hottest Where the bullets fastest fell, There they pressed unblanched and fearless At the very mouth of hell. Ah, they rallied to the standard To uphold it by their might, None were stronger in the labors, None were braver in the fight. At Forts Donelson and Henry On the plains of Olustee, They were foremost in the fight Of the battles of the free. And at Pillow ! God have mercy On the deeds committed there, And the souls of those poor victims Sent to Thee without a prayer. Let the fullness of thy pity O'er the hot wrought spirits sway, Of the gallant colored soldier Who fell fighting on that day ! Yes, the Blacks enjoy their freedom And they won it dearly, too ; For the life blood of their thousands Did the southern fields bedew. 40 MAJORS AND MINORS. In the darkness of their bondage, In their depths of slavery's night ; Their muskets flashed the dawning And they fought their way to light. They were comrades then and brothers, Are they more or less to-day ? They were good to stop a bullet And to front the fearful fray. They were citizens and soldiers, When rebellion raised its head ; And the traits that made them worthy Ah ! those virtues are not dead. They have shared your nightly vigils, They have shared your daily toil ; And their blood with yours commingling Has made rich the Southern soil. They have slept and marched and suffered 'Neath the same dark skies as you, They have met as fierce a foeman And have been as brave and true. And their deeds shall find a record, In the registry of Fame ; For their blood has cleansed completely Every blot of Slavery's shame. So all honor and all glory To those noble Sons of Ham The gallant colored soldiers, Who fought for Uncle Sam ! MAJORS AND MINORS. 41 Deab. A knock is at her door, but she is weak ; Strange dews have washed the paint streaks from her cheeks ; She does not rise, but ah this friend ie known, And knows that he will find her all alone. So opens he the door, and with soft tread, Goes straightway to the richly curtained bed. His soft hand on her dewy head he lays. A strange white light she gives him for his gaze. Then, looking on the glory of her charms, He crushes her resistless in his arms. Stand back ! look not upon this bold embrace, Nor view the calmness of the wanton's face, With joy unspeakable and 'bated breath, She keeps her last, long, liaison with death ! Co tfye IHemory af ZHary God has His plans, and what if we, With our sight be too blind to see Their full fruition ; can not He, Who made it, solve the mystery? One whom we loved has fall'n asleep, Not died ; although her calm be deep. Some new, unknown and strange suprise In Heaven holds enrapt her eyes. 42 MAJORS AND MINORS. And can you blame her that her gaze Is turned away from earthly ways, When to her eyes, God's light and love Have giv'n the view of things above ? A gentle spirit sweetly good, The pearl of precious womanhood ; Who heard the voice of duty clear, And found her mission soon and near. She loved all nature, flowers fair, The warmth of sun, the kiss of air, The birds that filled the sky with song, The stream that laughed its way along. Her home to her was shrine and throne, But one love held her not alone ; She sought out poverty and grief, Who touched her robe and found relief. So sped she in her Master's work, Too busy and too brave to shirk, When through the silence dusk and dim, God called her and she fled to Him. We wonder at the early call, And tears of sorrow can but fall For her o'er whom we spread the pall ; But faith, sweet faith is over all. The house is dust, the voice is dumb, But through undying years to come, The spark that glowed within her soul Shall light our footsteps to the goal. MAJORS AND MINORS. 43 She went her way ; but oh, she trod The path that led her straight to God. Such lives as this put death to scorn ; They lose our day to find God's morn. Comparison. The sky of brightest gray seems dark To one whose sky was ever white. To one who never knew a spark, Thro' all his life, of love or light, The grayest cloud seems over bright. The robin sounds a beggar's note Where one the nightingale has heard, But he, for whom no silver throat, Its liquid music ever stirred, Deems robin still the sweetest bird. By tfye Stream. By the stream I dream in calm delight, and watch as in a glass, How the clouds like crowds of snowy-hued and white- robed maidens pass, And the water into ripples breaks and sparkles as it spreads, Like a host of armored knights with silver helmets on their heads. 44 MAJORS AND MINORS. And I deem the stream an emblem fit of human life may go, For I find a mind may sparkle much and yet but shallows show, And a soul may glow with myriad lights and wondrous mysteries, When it only lies a dormant thing and mirrors what it sees. Conscience anb Kemorse. " Goodbye," I said to my conscience " Goodbye for aye and aye," And I put her hands off harshly, And turned my face away, And conscience smitten sorely Returned not from that day. But a time came when my spirit Grew weary of its pace ; And I cried : " Come back, my conscience, I long to see thy face. 1 ' But conscience cried : " I cannot, Remorse sits in my place. MAJORS AND MINORS, 45 fEfye Coper artb tfye ITToon. A lover whom duty called over the wave, Within himself communed: " Will my love be true If left to herself? Had I better not sue Some friend to watch over her, good and grave ? " But my friend might fail in my need," he said, And I return to find love dead. Since friendships fade like the flow'rs of June, I will leave her in charge of the stable moon. Then he said to the moon: " Oh dear old moon Who for years and years from thy throne above Haat nurtured and guarded young lovers and love, My heart has but come to its waiting June, And the promise time of the budding vine ; Oh guard thee well this love of mine. And he harked him then while all was still, And the pale moon answered and said " I will." And he sailed in his ship o'er many seas, And he wandered wide o'er strange far strands: In isles of the south and in Orient lands, Where pestilence lurks in the breath of the breeze. But his star was high, so he braved the main, And sailed him blithely home again ; And with joy, he bended his footsteps soon To learn of his love from the matron moon. 46 MAJORS AND MINORS. She gat as of yore, in her olden place, Serene as death, in her silver chair. A white rose gleamed in her whiter hair, And the tint of a blush was on her face. At sight of the youth, she sadly bowed And hid her face 'neath a gracious cloud. She faltered faint on the night's dim marge, But, " how," spoke the youth, " have you kept your charge?" The moon was sad at a trust ill-kept. The blush went out in her blanching cheek, And her voice was timid and low and weak, As she made her plea and sighed and wept. " Oh another prayed and another plead And I couldn't resist," she answering said, "But love still grows in the hearts of men, Go forth dear youth and love again." But he turned him away from her proffered grace. " Thou art false, Oh moon, as the hearts of men, I will not, will not love again." And he turned sheer 'round with a soul sick face, To the sea, and cried: " Sea, curse the moon Who makes her vows and forgets so soon." And the awful sea with anger stirred, And his breast heaved hard as he lay and heard.. And ever the moon wept down in rain, And ever her sighs rose high in wind: MAJORS AND MINORS. 47 But the earth and sea were deaf and blind, And she wept and sighed her griefs in vain. And ever at night, when the storm is fierce, The cries of a wraith through the thunders pierce: And the waves strain their awful hands on high . To tear the false moon from the sky. Sfytps tEfyat pass in tfye Out in the sky the great dark clouds are massing, I look far out into the pregnant night Where I can hear a solemn booming gun And catch the gleaming of a random light, That tells me that the ship I seek is passing, passing. My tearful eyes, my soul's deep hurt are glassing ; For I would hail and check that ship of ships. I stretch my hands imploring, cry aloud, My voice falls dead a foot from mine own lips And but its ghost doth reach that vessel, passing passing. Oh Earth, oh Sky, oh Ocean, both surpassing, Oh heart of mine, oh soul that dreads the dark ! Is there no hope for me ? Is there no way That I may sight and check that speeding bark, Which out of sight and sound is passing, passing ? 48 MAJORS AND MINORS. Itature anb Ctrl. TO MY FRIEND, CHARLES B. NETTLETON. The young queen Nature, ever sweet and fair, Once on a time fell upon evil days. From hearing oft herself discussed with praise, There grew within her heart the longing rare To see herself ; and every passing air The warm desire fanned into lusty blaze. Full oft she sought this end by devious ways, But sought in vain, so fell she in despair. For none within her train nor by her side Could solve the task or give the envied boon. So day and night, beneath the sun and moon, She wandered to and fro unsatisfied, Till Art came by, a blithe inventive elf, And made a glass wherein she saw herself. n. Enrapt, the queen gazed on her glorious self, Then trembling with the thrill of sudden thought, Commanded that the skillful wight be brought That she might dower him with lands and pelf. Then out upon the silent sea-lapt shelf And up the hills and on the downs they sought Him who so well and wondrously had wrought : MAJORS AND MINORS, 49 And with much search found and brought home the elf, But he put by all gifts with sad replies And from his lips these words flowed forth like wine : " Oh, queen, I want no gift but thee," he said. She heard and looked on him with love-lit eyes, Gave him her hand, low murmuring : " I am thine," And at the morrow's dawning they were wed. Premonition. Dear heart, good-night ! Nay, list awhile that sweet voice singing When the world is all so bright, And the sound of song sets the heart a-ringing, Oh, love, it is not right Not then to say, " good-night. Dear heart, good-night ! The late winds in the lake weeds shiver, And the spray flies cold and white. And the voice that sings gives a tell-tale quiver " Ah, yes, the world is bright, But dearest heart, good-night ! Dear heart, good-night ! And do not seek to longer hold me ! For my soul is in affright As the fearful glooms in their pall enfold me. See him who sang how white And still, so dear, good-night. 50 MAJORS AND MINORS. Dear heart, good-night ! Thy hand I'll press no more forever, And mine eyes shall lose the light : For the great white wraith by the winding river Shall check my steps with might. So, dear, good-night, good-night ! (Dbe for ZtTemortal Day. Done are the toils and the wearisome marches, Done is the summons of bugle and drum. Softly and sweetly, the sky over-arches, Shelt'ring a land where Rebellion is dumb. Dark were the days of the country's derangement, Sad were the hours when the conflict was on, But through the gloom of fraternal estrangement, God sent his light, and we welcome the dawn. O'er the expanse of our mighty dominions, Sweeping away to the uttermost parts, Peace, the wide-flying, on untiring pinions, Bringeth her message of joy to our hearts. Ah, but this joy which our minds cannot measure, What did it cost for our fathers to gain ! Bought at the price of the heart's dearest treasure. Born out of travail and sorrow and pain. Born in the battle where fleet Death was flying, Slaying with saber stroke bloody and fell : Born where the heroes and martyrs were dying, Torn by the fury of bullet and shell. MAJORS AND MINORS. 51 Ah, but the day is past : silent the rattle, And the confusion that followed the fight, Peace to the heroes who died in the battle, Martyrs to truth and the crowning of Right ! Out of the blood of a conflict fraternal, Out of the dust and the dimness of death, Burst into blossoms of glory eternal, Flowers that startle the world with their breath. Flowers of charity, peace and devotion Bloom in the hearts that are empty of strife ; Love that is boundless and broad as the ocean Leaps into beauty and fullness of life. So with the singing of pasans and chorals, And with the flag flashing high in the sun, Place on the graves of our heroes the laurels Which their unfaltering valor has won ! {Efye Htsing of tfye Storm. The lake's dark breast Is all unrest, It heaves with a sob and a sigh. Like a tremulous bird, From its slumber stirred, The moon is a-tilt in the sky. 52 MAJORS AND MINORS. From the silent deep The waters sweep, But faint on the cold white stones, And the wavelets fly With a plaintive cry O'er the old earth's bare, bleak bones. And the spray upsprings On its ghost-white wings And tosses a kiss at the stars ; While a water sprite, In sea-pearls dight Hums a sea hymn's solemn bars. Far out in the night, On the wavering sight I see a dark hull loom : And its light on high, Like a Cy clop's eye Shines out through the mist and gloom. Now the winds well up From the earth's deep cup And fall on the sea and shore, And against the pier The waters rear And break with a sullen roar. Up comes the gale, And the mist-wrought veil Gives way to the lightning's glare. MAJORS AND MINORS. 53 And the cloud-drifts fall, A sombre pall O'er water, earth and air. The storm-^king flies, His whip he plies And bellows down the wind. The lightning rash With blinding flash Comes pricking on behind. Rise, waters, rise And taunt the skies With your swift-flitting form. Sweep, wild winds, sweep And tear the deep To atoms in the storm. And the waters leapt, And the wild winds swept And blew out the moon in the sky, And I laughed with glee, It was joy to me As the storm went raging by ! tTfye XDtnb an6 tfye Sea. I stood by the shore at the death of day, As the sun sank flaming red ; And the face of the waters that spread away Was as gray as the face of the dead. 54 MAJORS AND MINORS. And I heard the cry of the wanton sea And the moan of the wailing wind ; For love's sweet pain in his heart had he, But the gray old sea had sinned. The wind was young and the sea was old, But their cries went up together ; The wind was warm and the sea was cold, For age makes wintry weether. So they cried aloud and they wept amain, Till the sky grew dark to hear it ; And out of its folds crept the misty rain, In its shroud, like a troubled spirit. For the wind was wild with a hopeless love, And the sea was sad at heart At many a crime that he wot of, Wherein he had played his part. He thought of the gallant ships gone down By the will of his wicked waves ; And he thought how the church-yard in the town Held the sea-made widows' graves. The wild wind thought of the love he had left Afar in an eastern land,* And he longed, as long the much bereft. For the touch of her perfumed hand. MAJORS AND MINORS. 55 In his winding wail and his deep-heaved sigh, His aching grief found vent ; While the sea looked up at the bending sky And murmured : " I repent." But e'en as he spoke, a ship came by, That bravely ploughed the main, And a light came into the sea's green eye, And his heart grew hard again. Then he spoke to the wind : " Friend, seest thou not Yon vessel is eastward bound ? Pray speed with it to the happy spot Where thy loved one may be found. " And the wind rose up in a dear delight, And after the good ship sped ; But the crafty sea by his wicked might Kept the vessel ever ahead. Till the wind grew fierce in his despair, And white on the brow and lip. He tore his garments and tore his hair, And fell on the flying ship. And the ship went down, for a rock was there, And the sailless sea loomed black ; While burdened again with dole and care, The wind came moaning back. 56 MAJORS AND MINORS. And still he moans from his bosom hot Where his raging grief lies pent, And ever when the ships come not, The sea says : " I repent." Passion anb or>e. A maidefi wept and, as a comforter, Came one who cried, " I love thee," and he seized Her in his arms and kissed her with hot breath, That dried the tears upon her flaming cheeks. While ever more his boldly blazing eye Burned into hers ; but she uncomforted Shrank from his arms and only wept the more. Then one came and gazed mutely in her face With wide and wistful eyes ; but still aloof He held himself ; as with a reverent fear, As one who knows some sacred presence nigh. And as she wept he mingled tear with tear That glad her soul like dew a dusty flow'r, Until she smiled, approached and touched his hand! MAJORS AND MINORS. 57 Ct Borber Ballab. Oh, I haven't got long to live, for we all Die soon, e'en those who live longest ; And the poorest and weakest are taking their chance Along with the richest and strongest. So its heigho for a glass and a song, And a bright eye over the table, And a dog for the hunt when the game is flush, And the pick of a gentleman's stable. There is Dimmock o' Dune, he was here yesternight, But he's rotting to-day on Glen Arragh ; 'Twas the hand o' MacPherson that gave him the blow, And the vultures shall feast on his marrow. But its heigho for a brave old song And a glass while we are able ; Here's a health to death and another cup To the bright eye over the table. I can show a broad back and a jolly deep chest, But who argues now on appearance ? A blow or a thrust or a stumble at best May send me to-day to my clearance. Then its heigho for the things I love, My mother '11 be soon wearing sable, But give me my horse and my dog and my glass, And a bright eye over the table. 58 MAJORS AND MINORS. 3f. If life were but a dream, my Love, And death the waking time ; If day had not a beam, my Love, And night had not a rhyme ; A barren, barren world were this Without one saving gleam I'd only ask that with a kiss You'd wake me from the dream. If dreaming were the sum of days, And loving were the bane ; If battling for a wreath of bays Could sooth a heart in pain ; I'd scorn the meed of battle's might, All other aims above I'd choose the human's higher right, To suffer and to love ! Ct Corn-Song. On the wide veranda white, In the purple failing light, Sits the master while the sun is lowly burning ; And his dreamy thoughts are drowned In the softly flowing sound Of the corn-songs of the field-hands slow returning. MAJORS AND MINORS. 59 Oh we hoe de co'n Since de ehly mo'n Now de sinkin' sun Says de day is done. O'er the fields with heavy tread, Light of heart and high of head Tho' the halting steps be labored, slow and weary ; Still the spirits brave and strong Find a comforter in song, And their corn-song rises ever loud and cheery. Song To the master in his seat, Comes the burden full and sweet Of the mellow minor music growing clearer ; As the toilers raise the hymn, Thro' the silence dusk and dim, To the cabin's restful shelter drawing nearer. Song And a tear is in the eye Of the master sitting by, As he listens to the echoes low-replying To the music's fading calls As it faints away and falls Into silence, deep within the cabin dying. Song. 60 MAJORS AND MINORS. Retrospection. When you and I were young, the days Were filled with scent of pink and rose, And full of joy from dawn till close, From morning's mist till evening's haze. And when the robin sung his song The verdant woodland ways along, We whistled louder than he sung. And school was joy, and work was sport For which the hours were all too short, When you and I were young, my boy, When you and I were young. When you and I were young, the woods Brimmed bravely o'er with every joy To charm the happy-hearted boy. The quail turned out her timid broods ; The prickly copse, a hostess fine, Held high black cups of harmless wine ; And low the laden grape-vine swung With beads of night kissed amethyst Where buzzing lovers held their tryst, When you and I were young, my boy, When you and I were young. When you and I were young, the cool And fresh wind fanned our fevered brows When tumbling o'er the scented mows, Or stripping by the dimpling pool, MAJORS AND MINORS. 61 Sedge-fringed nfeout its shimmering face, Save where we'd worn an ent'ring place. How with our shouts the calm banks rung ! How flashed the spray as we plunged in Pure gems that never caused a sin ! When you and I were young, my boy, When you and I were young. When you and I were young, we heard All sounds of Nature with delight, The whirr of wing in sudden flight, The chirping of the baby-bird. The columbine's red bells were rung ; The locust's vested chorus sung ; While every wind his zithern strung To high and holy-sounding keys, And played sonatas in the trees When you and I were young, my boy, When you and I were young. When you and I were young, we knew To shout and laugh, to work and play, And night was partner to the day In all our joys. So swift time flew On silent wings that, ere we wist, The fleeting years had fled unmissed ; And from our hearts this cry was wrung To fill with fond regret and tears, The days of our remaining years " When you and I were young, my boy, When you and I were young." 62 MAJORS AND MINORS. Hot Cfyey tDfyo Soar. Not they who soar, but they who plod Their rugged way, unhelped to God Are heroes ; they who higher fare, And flying, fan the upper air, Miss all the toil that hugs the sod. 'Tis they whose backs have felt the rod, Whose feet have pressed the path, unshod, May smile upon defeated care, Not they who soar. High up there are no thorns to prod, Nor boulders lurking 'neath the clod To turn the keenness of the share ; For flight is ever free and rare ; But heroes, they the soil who've trod, Not they who soar! An old, worn harp that had been play'd, Till all its strings were loose and fray'd. Joy, Hate and Fear, each one essay'd To play. But each in turn had found No sweet responsiveness of sound. MAJORS AND MINORS. 63 Then Love the Master- Player came With heaving breast and eyes aflame ; The Harp he took all undismayed, Smote on its strings, still strange to song. And brought forth music sweet and strong. Ctfter tfye Quarrel. So we, who've supped the self-same cup, To-night must lay our friendship by ; Your wrath has burned your judgment up, Hot breath has blown the ashes high. You say that you are wronged ah, well, I count that friendship poor at best A bauble, a mere bagatelle, That cannot stand so slight a test. I fain would still have been your friend And talked and laughed and loved with you, But since it must, why, let it end ; The false but dies, 'tis not the true. So we are favored, you and I, Who only want the living truth. It was not good to nurse the lie ; 'Tis well it died in harmless youth. I go from you to-night to sleep. Why, what's the odds ? why should I grieve ? I have no fund of tears to weep For happenings that undeceive. 64 MAJORS AND MINORS. The days shall come, the days shall go Just as they came and went before. The sun shall shine, the streams shall flow Tho' you and I are friends no more. And in the volume of my years, Where all my thoughts and acts shall be, The page whereon your name appears Shall be forever sealed to me. Not that I hate you over-much, 'Tis less of hate than love defied ; Howe'er, our hands no more shall touch. We'll go our ways, the world is wide. Urtexpresseb. Deep in my heart that aches with the repression, And strives with plenitude of bitter pain, There lives a thought that clamors for expression, And spends its undelivered force in vain. What boots it that some other may have thought it ? The right of thoughts' expression is divine ; The price of pain I pay for it has bought it, I care not who lays claim to it 'tis mine ! And yet not mine until it be delivered ; The manner of its birth shall prove the test. Alas, alas, my rock of pride is shivered- I beat my brow the thought still unexpressed MAJORS AND MINORS. 65 Ere sleep comes down to soothe the weary eyes. Ere sleep comes down to soothe the weary eyes, Where ranges forth the spirit far and free ? Thro' what strange realms and unfamiliar skies Tends her far course to lands of mystery ? To lands unspeakable beyond surmise, Where shapes unknowable to being spring, Till faint of wing, the Fancy fails and dies Much wearied with the spirit's journeying, Ere sleep comes down to soothe the weary eyes. Ere sleep comes down to soothe the weary eyes, How questioneth the soul that other soul The inner sense which neither cheats nor lies. But self exposes unto self, a scroll Full writ with all life's acts unwise or wise, In characters indelible and known ; So, trembling with the shock of sad surprise, The soul doth view its awful self alone, Ere sleep comes down to soothe the weary eyes. When sleep comes down to seal the weary eyes, The last dear sleep whose soft embrace is balm, And whom sad sorrow teaches us to prize For kissing all. our passions into calm, Ah then, no more we heed the sad world's cries, MAJOES AND MINORS. 67 Or seek to probe th' eternal mystery, Or fret our souls at long withheld replies, At glooms thro' which our visions cannot see, When sleep comes down to seal the weary eyes. Ct Starry A cloud fell down from the heavens, And broke on the mountain's brow It scattered the dusky fragments All over the vale below. The moon and the stars were anxious To know what its fate might be ; So they rushed to the azure op'ning, And all peered down to see. tTfye Cesson. My cot was down by a cypress grove, And I sat by my window the whole night long, And heard well up from the deep dark wood A mocking bird's passionate song. And I thought of myself so sad and lone, And my life's cold winter that knew no spring ; Of my mind so weary and sick and wild, Of my heart too sad to sing. 68 MAJORS AND MINORS. But e'en as I listened the mock-bird's song, A thought stole into my saddened heart, And I said, " I can cheer some other soul By a carol's simple art. For oft from the darkness of hearts and lives Come songs that brim with joy and light, As out of the gloom of the cypress grove The mocking-bird sings at night. So I sang a lay for a brother's ear In a strain to soothe his bleeding heart, And he smiled at the sound of my voice and lyre, Tho' mine was a feeble art. But at his smile, I smiled in turn And into my soul there came a ray : In trying to soothe another's woes Mine own had passed away. DatDn. An angel, robed in spotless white, Bent down and kissed the sleeping Night. Night woke to blush ; the sprite was gone. Men saw the blush and called it Dawn. MAJORS AND MINORS. 69 CI Cyrtc. My lady love lives far away, And oh my heart is sad by day, And ah my tears fall fast by night, What may I do in such a plight. Why, miles grow few when love is fleet, And love, you know, hath flying feet : Break oif thy sighs and witness this, How poor a thing mere distance is. My love knows not I love her so, And would she scorn me, did she know ? How may the tale I would impart Attract her ear and storm her heart ? Calm thou the tempest in thy breast, Who loves in silence loves the best, But bide thy time, she will awake, No night so dark but morn will break. But tho' my heart so strongly yearn, My lady loves me not in turn, How may I win the blest reply That my void heart shall satisfy. Love breedeth love, be thou but tru e, And soon thy Love shall love thee, too ; If Fate hath meant you heart for heart, There's naught may keep you twain apart. 70 MAJORS AND MINORS. Phyllis, ah, Phyllis, my life is a gray day, Few are my years, but my griefs are not few, Ever to youth should each day be a May-day, Warm wind and rose-breath and diamonded dew Phyllis, ah, Phyllis, my life is a gray day. Otf for the sunlight that shines on a May-day ; Only the cloud hangeth over my life. Love that should bring me youth's happiest hey-day, Brings me but seasons of borrow and strife ; Phyllis, ah, Phyllis, my life is a gray day. Sunshine or shadow, or gold day or gray day, Life must be lived as our destinies rule ; Leisure or labor or work day or play day Feasts for the famous and fun for the fool ; Phyllis, ah, Phyllis, my life is a gray day. Htgfyt's Security. What if the wind do howl without, And turn the creaking weather-vane ; What if the arrows of the rain Do beat against the window pane. Art thou not armored strong and fast Against the sallies of the blast ? Art thou not sheltered safe and well Against the flood's insistent swell ? MAJORS AND MINORS. 71 What boots it, that thou stand'st alone, And laughest in the battle's face When all the weak have fled the place And let their feet and fears keep pace ? Thou wavest still thine ensign, high, And shoutest thy loud battle cry ; Higher than e'er the tempest roared, It cleaves the silence like a sword. Right arms and armors too, that man Who will not compromise with wrong ; Tho' single he must front the throng, And wage the battle hard and long. Minorities, since time began, Have shown the better side of man ; And often in the lists of Time, One man has made a cause sublime ! 015. I have seen peoples come and go Alike the Ocean's ebb and flow ; I have seen kingdoms rise and fall Like springtime shadows on a wall. I have seen houses rendered great That grew from life's debased estate, And all, all, all is change I see, So, dearest God, take me, take me. 72 MAJORS AND MINORS. om Sfyail 3 IDoo How shall I woo thee to win the, mine own ? Say in what tongue shall I tell of my love. I who was fearless so timid have grown, All that was eagle has turned into dove. The path from the meadow that leads to the bars Is more to me now than the path of the stars. How shall I woo thee to win thee, mine own, Thou who art fair and as far as the moon ? Had I the strength of the torrent's wild tone, Had I the sweetness of warblers in June ; The strength and the sweetness might charm and persuade, But neither have I my petition to aid. How shall I woo thee to win thee, mine own ? How shall I traverse the distance between My humble cot and your glorious throne ? How shall a clown gain the ear of a queen ? Oh teach me the tongue that shall please thee the best, For till I have won thee my heart may not rest. Ct Summer's Icigfyt. The night is dewy as a maiden's mouth, The skies are bright as are a maiden's eyes, Soft as a maiden's breath, the wind that flies Up from the perfumed bosom of the South. MAJORS AND MINORS. 73 Like sentinels, the pines stand in the park ; And hither hastening like rakes that roam, With lamps to light their wayward footsteps home, The fire- flies come stagg'ring down the dark. Song. My heart to thy heart, My hand to thine ; My lips to thy lips, Kisses are wine Brewed for the lover in sunshine and shade, Let me drink deep then, my African maid. Lily to lily, Rose unto rose ; My love to thy love Tenderly grows. Rend not the oak and the ivy in twain, Nor the swart maid from her swarthier swain. 0ne tfe. Oh, I am hurt to death, my Love, The shafts of Fate have pierced my striving heart, And I am sick and weary of The endless pain and smart. My soul is weary of the strife And chafes at life, and chafes at life. 74 MAJORS AND MINORS. Time mocks me with fair promises ; A blooming future grows a barren past, Like rain my fair full-blossomed trees Unburden in the blast. The harvest fails on grain and tree, Nor comes to me, nor comes to me. The stream that bears my hopes abreast Turns ever from my way its pregnant tide. My laden boat, torn from its rest, Drifts to the other side. So all my hopes are set astray, And drift away, and drift away. The lark sings to me at the morn, And near me wings her skyward soaring flight ; But pleasure dies as soon as born ; The owl takes up the night, And night seems long and doubly dark ; I miss the lark, I miss the lark. Let others labor as they may, I'll sing and sigh alone and write my line. Their fate is theirs, or grave or gay, And mine shall still be mine, I know the world holds joy and glee, But not for me 'tis not for me. MAJORS AND MINORS. 75 3f 3 Couib But forget. If 1 could but forget The fullness of those first sweet days, When you burst sun-like thro' the haze Of unacquaintance, on my sight, And made the wet, gray day seem bright While clouds themselves grew fair to see. And since, no day is gray or wet, But all the scene comes back to me, If I could but forget. If I could but forget How your dusk eyes look into mine, And how I thrilled as with strong wine Beneath your touch ; while sped amain The quickened stream thro' ev'ry vein ; How near my breath fell to a gasp, When for a space our fingers met In one electric vibrant clasp, If I could but forget. If I could but forget The months of passion and of pain, And all that followed in their train Rebellious thoughts that would arise, Rebellious tears that dimmed mine eyes, The prayers that I might set love's fire Aflame within your bosom yet The death at last of that desire If I could but forget. 76 MAJORS AND MINORS. 3npitatton to or>e. Come when the nights are bright with stars, Or when the moon is mellow ; Come when the Sun his golden bars Drops on the hay-field mellow. Come in the twilight soft and gray, Come in the night or come in the day, Come, oh Love, whene'er you may, And you are welcome, welcome. You are sweet, oh love, dear Love, You are soft as the nesting, dove, Come to my heart and bring it rest As the bird flies home to its welcome nest. Come when my heart is full of grief, Or when my heart is merry ; Come with the falling of the leaf, Or with the redd'ning cherry. Come when the year's first blossom blows, Come when the summer gleams and glows, Come with the winter's drifting snows And you are welcome, welcome. Cl Prayer. Oh Lord, the hard won miles Have worn my stumbling feet ; Oh soothe me with thy smiles And make my life complete. MAJORS AND MINORS. 77 The thorns were thick and keen Where'er I trembling trod ; The way was long between My wounded feet and God. When storms arise And dark'ning skies About me threat'ning lower ; To Thee, oh Lord, I raise mine eyes, To Thee my tortured spirit flies For solace in that hour. Thy mighty arm Will let no harm Come near me nor befall me ; Thy voice shall quiet my alarm, When life's great battle waxeth warm- No foeman shall appall me. Upon thy breast Secure I rest, From sorrow and vexation ; No more by sinful cares oppressed, But in thy presence ever blest, Oh God of my salvation. 78 MAJORS AND MINORS. HtMng to When labor is light and the morning is fair, I find it a pleasure beyond all compare To hitch up my nag and go hurrying down And take Katie May for a ride into town ; For bumpety-bump goes the wagon, But tra-la-la-la our lay, There's joy in a song as we rattle along In the light of the glorious day. A coach would be fine, but a spring wagon's good ; My jeans is a match for Kate's gingham and hood ; The hills take us up and the vales take us down, But what matters that ! we are riding to town, And bumpety-bump goes the wagon, But tra-la-la-la sing we. There's never a care may live in the air That is filled with the breath of our glee. And after we've started, there's naught can repress The thrill of our hearts in their wild happiness ; The heavens may smile or the heavens may frown, And its all one to us when we're riding to town. For bumpety-bump goes the wagon, But tra-la-la-la we shout, For our hearts they are clear and there's nothing to fear, And we've never a pain nor a doubt. MAJORS AND MINORS. 79 The wagon is weak and the roadway is rough, And tho' it is long it is not long enough, For 'mid all my ecstacies this is the crown To sit beside Katie and ride into town, When bumpety-bump goes the wagon, But tra-la-la-la our song, And if I had my way I'd be willing to pay If the road could be made twice as long. <8oob The lark is silent in his nest, The breeze is sighing in its flight, Sleep Love and peaceful be thy rest, Good night my love, good night, good night. Sweet dreams attend thee in the sleep, To soothe thy rest till morning's light, And angels round you vigil keep Good night my love, good night, good night. Sleep well my love on night's dark breast, And ease thy soul with slumber bright ; Be joy but thine and I am blest Good night my love, good night, good night. 80 MAJORS AND MINORS. a lice. Know you winds that blow your course Down the verdant valleys, That somewhere you must, perforce, Kiss the brow of Alice ? When her gentle face you find, Kiss it softly, naughty wind. Roses waving fair and sweet Thro' the garden alleys, Grow into a glory meet For the eye of Alice ; Let the wind your offering bear Of sweet perfume, faint and rare. Lily holding crystal dew In your pure white chalice, Nature kind hath fashioned you Like the soul of Alice ; It of purest white is wrought, Filled with gems of crystal thought. Ballab. I know my love is true, And oh the day is fair, The sky is clear and blue, The flowers are rich of hue, MAJORS AND MINORS. 81 The air I breathe is rare, I have no grief or care ; For my own love is true, And oh the day is fair. My love is false I find, And oh the day is dark. Blows sadly down the wind, While sorrow holds my mind ; I do not hear the lark, For quenched is life's dear spark My love is false I find, And oh the day is dark ! For love doth make the day Or dark or doubly bright ; Her beams along the way Dispel the gloom and gray. She lives and all is bright, She dies and life is night. For love doth make the day, Or dark or doubly bright. fye ZHystery. I was not ; now I am a few days hence, I shall not be ; I fain would look before And after, but can neither do ; some Pow'r Or lack of pow'r says " no " to all I would. 82 MAJORS AND MINORS. I stand upon a wide and sunless plain, Nor chart nor steel to guide my steps aright. Whene'er, o'ercoming fear, I dare to move, I grope without direction and by chance. Some feign to hear a voice and feel a hand That draws them ever upward thro' the gloom. But I I hear no voice and touch no hand, Tho' oft thro' silence infinite, I list, And strain my hearing to supernal sounds ; Tho' oft thro' fateful darkness do I reach, And stretch my hand to find that other hand. I question of th' eternal bending skies That seem to neighbor with the novice earth ; But they roll on and daily shut their eyes On me, as I one day shall do on them, And tell me not the secret that I ask. Promise. I grew a rose within a garden fair And tending it, with more than loving care, I thought how, with the glory of its bloom, I should the darkness of my life illume ; And watching, ever smiled to see the lusty bud, Drink freely in the summer sun to tinct its blood. MAJORS AND MINORS. 83 My rose began to open, and its hue Was sweet to me as to it, sun and dew ; I watched it taking on its ruddy flame Until the day of perfect blooming came, Then, hasted I with smiles, to find it blushing red Too late ! Some thoughtless child had plucked my rose and fled ! ^uiftiiment. I grew a rose once more to please mine eyes. All things to aid it, dew, sun, wind, fair skies Were kindly ; and to shield it from despoil, I fenced it safely in with grateful toil. No other hand than mine shall pluck this flower said I, And I was jealous of the bee that hovered nigh. It grew for days, I stood hour after hour To watch the slow unfolding of the flow'r. And then I did not leave its side at all, Lest some mischance, my flower should befall. At last, Oh joy ! the central petals burst apart. It blossomed but alas ! a worm was at its heart ! 84 MAJORS AND MINORS. Preparation. The little bird sits in the nest and sings A shy, soft song to the morning light ; And it nutters a little and prunes its wings. The song is halting and poor and brief, And the fluttering wings scarce stir a leaf ; But the note is a prelude to sweeter things, And the busy bill and the flutter slight Are proving the wings for a bolder flight ! Hetort. " Thou art a fool," said my head to my heart, " Indeed, the greatest of fools, thou art To be led astray by the trick of a tress, By a smiling face or a ribbon smart." And my heart was in sore distress. Then Phyllis came by, and her face was fair, The light gleamed soft on her raven hair ; And her lips were blooming a rosy red. Then my heart spoke out with a right bold air ; " Thou art worse than a fool, Oh head !" MAJORS AND MINORS. 85 Disappointed An old man planted and dug and tended, Toiling in joy from dew to dew : The Sun was kind and the rain befriended : Fine grew his orchard and fair to view. Then he said : u I will quiet my thrifty fears, For here is fruit for my failing years." But even then the storm-clouds gathered, Swallowing up the azure sky ; The sweeping winds into white foam lathered The placid breast of the bay, hard by ; Then the spirits that raged in the darkened air Swept o'er his orchard and left it bare. The old man stood in the rain, uncaring, Viewing the place the storm had swept ; And then with a cry from his soul despairing, He bowed him down to the earth, and wept. But a voice cried aloud from the driving rain : "Arise, old man, and plant again !" fye Song. My soul, lost in the music's mist, Roamed, rapt 'neath skies of amethyst. The cheerless streets grew summer meads, The Son of Phoebus spurred his steeds, 86 MAJORS AND MINORS. And wand'ring down the mazy tune, December lost its way in June, While from a verdant vale I heard The piping of a love-lorn bird. A something in the tender strain Revived an old, long-conquered pain And as in depths of many seas, My heart was drowned in memories. The tears came welling to my eyes, Nor could I ask it otherwise ; For, oh ! a sweetness seems to last Amid the dregs of sorrows past. It stirred a chord that here of late I'd grown to think could not vibrate. It brought me back the trust of youth, The world again was joy and truth. And A vice, blooming like a bride, Once more stood trusting at my side. But still with bosom desolate, The 'lorn bird sang to find his mate. Then there are trees, and lights and stars, The silv'ry tinkle of guitars ; And throbs again as throbbed that waltz, Before I knew that hearts were false. Then like a cold wave on a shore, Comes silence and she sings no more. I wake, I breathe, I think again, And walk the sordid ways of men. Humor : : : : and : : : : Dialect* Humor and Dialect* " ' A f .*y' r - T(\. ^f . * "/\ /? 1\ '* yfiV- y^ V ' \ "^ J1 V. ^\ ' - v V\ l V - - . I / . 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