THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES ANTENNA. ANTENNA. POEMS BY LLEWELLYNN JEWITT, F.S.A., ETC., ETC. DERBY : PRINTED FOR PRIVATE CIRCULATION ONLY. 185S. {Only Twenty-five Copies Printed.] Use PR IN AFFECTIONATE REMEMBRANCE OF A FATHER, WHOSE LITERARY TALENTS I HAVE STRIVEN TO EMULATE ; OF A MOTHER, WHOSE GOODNESS AND VIRTUES I HAVE VAINLY ENDEAVOURED TO IMITATE ; (WHOSE LIVES ARE OF THE PAST.) AS A TOKEN OF LOVE TO A WIFE, WORTHY A HIGHER AND BETTER TRIBUTE THAN I CAN EVER HOPE TO OFFER ; TO CHILDREN WHOSE LOVE AND DUTIFUL AFFECTION ARE MY GREATEST SOLACE ; AND TO THOSE EVER DEAR FRIENDS, WnOSE LOVING KINDNESS AND SYMPATHY HAVE LIGHTENED MANY A SORROW AND WEARINESS, AND CAST BRIGHT RAYS OF SUNSHINE ACROSS MY CHEQUERED PATH OF LIFE, THESE PAGES ARE, IN ALL SINCERITY AND LOVE, AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED. 918014 As the beautiful Butterfly emerging from its chrysalis, unfolds its delicately feathered Antennae, and puts them forth as feelers to assure itself of safety while gaining confidence and strength to venture alone into the great world before it, or to soar away into the boundless air ; as they serve to- warn it of obstacles or dangers in its onward path among the thorns and flowers, and to guide it en in safety — so, for the same reason, the author now puts forth his literary Antenna?, trusting that their delicate sensitiveness may either assure him that he may with safety continue his onward course, or, by warning him of any danger which may approach, indicate to him that it would be more prudent to turn into another path. He puts them forth tremblingly and with diffidence, venturing a hope that their fragile and susceptible nature may be preserved, in some measure, from the rough and bard usage to which they will be exposed in the world they are for the first time entering. CONTENTS Page A VISION 9 BROTHERHOOD J 9 WINTER 22 DESOLATION 31 the old year 34. ™il 38 STANZAS, ON AN OLD RUIN 41 WATER ! DARK AND COLD 45 RAIN 4(J JOYOUS IS THE SrRIXG TIME 50 A THOUGHT 52 Vlll. CONTENTS. Page THE OLD AND NEW YEAR 57 A mind's RECALLINGS 61 CONSTANCY 78 irorE 83 Ricn AND POOR 89 midnight bells 92 SEASONS 97 SONGS OF CIIILDnOOD 100 CANKER WORM ... - 102 BRIDAL GIFT 104 FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE 105 SOME ONE LOVES THEE STILL 119 AN ANNIVERSARY 124 BEAUTY IN ALL SEASONS 127 THE MOTHER YEAR 130 MY HOUSEHOLD SPIRIT 135 ANTENNA. a VISION. And here I lie, and all alone, — They fancy that I sleep, — And of my lov'd ones, all but one Are stolen away to weep ; — The tone of that sweet passing-bell Comes wafted to mine ear, I hail it as a cherub's voice, Singing of joy, not fear. 10 A VISION. My aching head is better now, My heart's dull throb is o'er, I feel as though my spirits low Were gone for evermore ; I fancy I am floating down A stream of endless length, Whose waters, smooth and glossy, Have ta'en away my strength. I lie upon the surface, As a sear and fallen leaf Of the Aspen or the Poplar, Whose life has been as brief As mine that now is ebbing, And fleeting fast away, And telling me in tones of truth, I must no longer stay. — I feel trie sunshine on my brow, As down the stream I float, Like smiles of Heaven's gladness To cheer my inmost thought ; A VISION. H I hear the rustle of the leaves, Like cherubs wings above, Fluttering and hovering o'er me With songs of purest love. I feel the balmy softness Of the cool refreshing breeze, As it murmurs o'er the waters, And plays amongst the trees ; I see the sparkling sunlight As it dances on the stream, And rests upon the ripples, Till, lighted up, they seem As spirits of the vasty deep, Uprisen at the call, Of him the great Omnipotent, To bear my soul withal Adown that silent streamlet, On whose bosom I recline, And to cheer my broken spirits, On this downward path of mine. 12 A VISION. I feel the waters which at first Were calm and smooth and clear, Flow faster as I glide along, Until they now appear More troubled, more impatient, At the burthen that they bear, (Like mortals at the close of life, With their loads of sin and care, Which first in early years had been A light and easy freight, But after times had so increased, Until with doubled weight, They press upon them heavily, Until their spirits rise Impatiently, to mount aloft, To the region of the skies). The banks are bright and beautiful With Autumn's changing hues, The leaves and flow'rets spangled With morning's pearly dews ; A VISION. 13 The trees whose lofty branches Are mingled with the skies. Whose moss-grown trunks gigantic From the waters side arise. The grey cold rocky fragments, With lichens overspread, Of richest shades and colours, Of yellow, brown and red ; The mossy roots and branches, Of the hazel and the thorn ; The overhanging bramble, By the stronger trees upborne ; The fern whose leaves so mournfully Wave o'er me as I pass, Like funeral plumes, so stilly Uprising from the grass, — The dragon-flies that flit across The stream, with silken wings, And touch the water gently, And form those wondrous rings 14 A VISION. Upon its glassy surface, Which wider, wider, grow, Until they die away in space, So vast that none may know ; — So like eternity they are Increasing all around, And spreading farther every way, Beyond all mortal bound ; — The sombre ivy mantling The craggy rocks and trees, And slyly creeping, like old time, By slow but sure degrees, — The flowers and the leaflets, The rocks, the trees and woods, The sunlight and the shadows, And the streams unceasing floods, All, all, are past and gone, And my life is nearly o'er, Their songs of natures sweetness, Will be sung for me no more ; — A VISION. The dark sky now is lowering, The day is past and gone, The evening sun is setting, Behind his golden throne ; And fast the darkness stealeth on, The winds begin to rise, And chaos now envelopes Alike the earth and skies, And ever downward gliding, In darkness wild and drear, The waters still flow onward, To the goal now drawing near. More madly still they rush, The waves now rise and sink, I feel the torrents swell, As they approach the brink Of that tremendous precipice, That chasm without bound In which the torrents tumble, With dull and heavy sound. 15 16 A VISION. \ Oh God who still'st the waters, Who rules the winds and storms, Whose voice can lull the thunders, Whose goodness has no bounds — Oh God, the great, the glorious, — Oh God, the just and free, Have pity on my loneliness, And take my soul to thee ! ! All, all, is hushed around ; — The waters, calm and still, The winds but murmur gently, And sigh from hill to hill ; — And now there rises in the air A star of heavenly light, That pierces through the darkness Its rays so purely bright ; A VISION. And still it rises higher, Until the skies appear, Illumined with its brightness ; And as I now draw near, The silv'ry voices round me, Of herald angels float ; And words of lasting comfort, I hear with every note. More nearly and still closer, I approach the heavenly throng, Their wings are rustling round me, And I listen to their song, — The softness of the voices, and The rustling of the wings, Now fills the air with music, And sweetest visions brings. The murmuring wind that sweeps across The strings of seraph lyre, Now buoys my spirits up, with Sparks of heavenly fire, — 18 A VISION. I feel my soul is melting, — It rises, — soars away, And cleaves all through the darkness Tow'rds that orb of endless day. The star at last is won — And now, as in a maze, I stand before my maker, But I shrink not from his gaze ; I feel his presence round me, I know that he is there, I sink, in adoration, But oh ! not in despair. " God, now I have seen thee In thy realms of endless bliss, Oh ! let me rest for ever In an extacy like this." BROTHERHOOD. Onward ! rush onward ! The Battle to win : Onward ! rush onward ! Our Foe, it is Sin ! Halt not, and falter not, Onward 's the cry, Bravely and firmly, to conquer or die ; Brave hearts are beating, Brethren are meeting, Our standard's unfurled, and waves up on high ; Sons of oppression, Friends of aggression, Soon your proud heads in the low dust shall lie. 20 BROTHERHOOD. Forward ! haste forward ! The pass-word is given ; Forward ! haste forward ! That pass-word is heaven ! Flinch not from duty, our cause it is right ; For justice and mercy exert we our might. Bondage and slavery, Lying and knavery, Powers oppressive long hid from the sight — Darkness and tyranny, Ignorance, irony, These are the enemies 'gainst whom we fight. Onward ! press onward ! The foe is at hand ; Onward ! still onward ! Your rights to demand ; Shrink not, and rest not, from toil and from pain, Our cause is a just one, man's right to maintain. BROTHERHOOD 21 Oppression so galling, And mis'ry appalling, These must be vanquished, our great ends to gain : General Brotherhood, For the great wide-world's good ; Onward ! and shrink not, till this we obtain. WINTER. Old Winter sits on his icy throne With his vassals all around him ; On every side Is his empire wide, And only the earth can bound him. And he stretches his arm o'er the far-off hills And the strength of his power is such, That their toweling crests, Where the storm-cloud rests, Are blanched neath his mighty touch. WINTER. 23 And he glances down in the valley deep, Embosomed by forest and hill, And the meadows fair, And the streamlets there, Grow cold at his magic will. And he breathes a cold blast over river and stream, And the limpid gurgling brook, And the chilling air, As it pauses there, Congeals neath his icy look. And he shakes his hoar locks in the keen north wind, And it colder and colder grows, Till the mountains high As they pierce the sky, Are covered with whitened snows. 2-i WINTER. And the moorland and plain, and the lowly vale, The rocks and the mighty trees, With snows are capped And in ice enwrapped, Congealed by the chilling breeze. And he looks across the dreary waste, And human forms he sees, And his snows fall fast, And his chilling blast, Their blood of life does freeze. But he heeds not the infant's piteous moan Nor the mother's upturned eye ; On his cruel breath, Rides his messenger, death, And thev look on his face, and die. WINTER. 25 And noislessly still his thick snows fall, Where they have sunk to rest : And the angel child, In that dreary wild. Sleeps on its mother's breast. Colder and keener blows the blast, And deeper the white snows fall ; But an angel bright, With a gleam of light, Spreads o'er them their funeral pall. He gazes down on the lordly hall, Where all is revel and mirth ; Where the fire bright Throws a blaze of light, Around the joyous hearth. B 26 WINTER. But the melting air of that heated hall, Curls up from the chimneys wide ; And wrests from his hand His potent wand, And his power bends aside. And he turns him then, in his fearful wrath, To the poor man's lonely cot ; And shortened breath, And a lingering death, Fall to that poor man's lot ; For in cold, and hunger, and pain, he lies, In speechless agony ; While his frantic wife, For his ebbing life, Prays with a bended knee. WINTER. 2 No fire is there, and the window panes Are raapp'd with magic leaves ; On the hearth falls slow The whitened snow, And icicles fringe the eaves. And in that piercing, chilling air, AVithout^ the power to rise, Inhaling death - At every breath, The poor man withering lies. To his parched lips he feebly draws A vessel of water clear ; But the ruthless frost The vessel has cross 'd, And frozen the water there. 28 WINTER. Cold and gray as the morning light Creeps slowly and cheerlessly on ; In deep despair He lingers there, But his la3t long breath is drawn ; For the mighty king o'er that frigid form Has passed his freezing hand ; And the deep drawn sigh And the upturned eye, Are stilled at his command. Freed from galling wrongs 'neath which so long His fever'd brain had burned ; That poor man's soul Has reached the goal For which his spirit yearn'd. WINTER. 20 And his wearied wife, in poignant grief, Gently bows her head ; 'Mid sobs and gasps, Her hands she clasps In misery and dread. And the monarch of awe who sees her thus Beside that bed of death, Pierces her heart With his icy dart, And smites her with his breath. Calmly and gently in death they sleep In that bleak and dreary room ; From the tyranny, free, And the dread misery, Which on earth was their weary doom. 30 WINTER. But the daring grasp of that monarch chief, With his icy, boundless will, In all his strength Is subdued at length By a mightier power still. And his desolate breath, and the despot sway Of his long and powerful reign, Are laid at rest, And at God's behest Bring blessings as well as pain. For old winter's frost, and his ice and snow, His bleak and chilling wind, Turify the earth, Till the seed- time's birth Brings plenty to mankind. DESOLATION. Howls the wind lustily, Lustily, lustily, O'er the tall chimney tops, Blowing so gustily. Fires bright are burning ; Hearts sad are mourning, Heavily, wearily. Leaves fast are falling, Cered and dead, Spirits are drooping, Pining in dread. Fond hearts are aching, Withering, breaking, Joys all are fled. 32 DESOLATION. Tall Elms are bending Their boughs to the ground, Crankling and creaking With deep hollow sound. Brave hearts are quaking, Spirits are shaking Desolation around. Moans the wind painfully, Heavily, drearily, Through the old casement Whistling wearily. Wild thoughts are flying ; Frenzied ones dying, Hopelessly, fearlessly. Fall the large rain drops Sulkily, mockingly, On the bright embers Drop by drop hissingly. True hearts are sever'd, Madden'd and fever'd, Once linked so lovingly. DESOLATION. 33 Rages the tempest loud, Wrathfully chiding ; High in the air The storm clouds are riding Eyes swollen with weeping, Vigils are keeping, In sorrow abiding. Lurid the lightning Is gleaming on high And thunder loud pealing Is rending the sky. Friendship's are riven, Fond hearts are driven In sorrow to die. Howls the wind lustily, Lustily, lustily, O'er the tall chimney tops Blowing so gustily. Let it howl on, I heed not its moaning, For this poor heart but echoes its groaning, Heavily, wearily. THE OLD YEAR. The Old Year is dying, He sinketh fast ; Softly tread near him, He breatheth his last, — Let him pass gently. Calm is his voice, And placid his brow, O'er which his aged locks Hang, white as snow, — Speak of him gently. THE OLD YEAR. 3J Upward his dim eyes turn, Calling' a blessing On that fair infant form He is caressing, Murmuring gently. Calm and majestic lie passeth away, Like the red evening sun Closing the day, — Softly and gently. The Old Year is dying, His last breath is drawn, As the first smiles of pow'r On his infant's face dawn, — Sadly and gently. * * * 3G THE OLD YEAR. The Old Year is dead, And his spirit at last Away from this earth For ever has past, — Calmly and gently. And the frail infant form Which but now he caressed, No more to his bosom Again will be pressed, — Lovingly, gently. No more will he hear his Fond blessing and prayer ; No more will he feel That his fatherly care Is guarding him, gently. THE OLD YEAR. 37 But the tottering limbs, Of that fair infant boy, Must bear him alone, Through peril and joy, — Slowly and gently. God grant that his course, From anarchy free, Unruffled, unsullied, And spotless may be, — Let him rule gently. Oh ! let the Infant Year's Promising reign, Mankind in one bond Unite to maintain Man's treating man gently. VIGIL. Watching, watching, watching, When far spent is the night ; And watching, watching, watching, Until the mornings light. Anxious each moment her breathing to hear, A prey to deepest, most exquisite fear ; Earth holds but one in these transports of grief, To whom from on high I pray for relief. Weeping and praying, praying and weeping, Oh ! the strict vigil, my bosom is keeping. VIGIL. 30 Watching, watching, watching, At daybreak and evening and night ; And watching, watching, watching, By the noon-tide's broad day-light. Fearing each moment her dear life is fleeting, Oh ! the mad'ning thought that her heart has ceas'd [beating ; Pale, pale is her cheek, and closed is her eye, Her lips too are cold, and livid, and dry. Weeping and praying, praying and weeping, Oh ! the strict vigil, my bosom is keeping. Watching, watching, watching, When the midnight oil is spent, And watching, watching, watching, Meekly o'er her bent ; 40 VIGIL. Watching for each symptom of life's returning ray, Fearing that a change may come, o'er her, by break [of day. Angels watch over her, waft with your wings, Fan her poor parch 'd brow, while cherubim sings. Holy ! most holy is the feeling ye give, That the great God of heaven has said she shall live. STANZAS, ON AN OLD RUIN. I see thee as thou wast of old, I see thy windows fill'd with light ; I see thy fire burning bright, Throwing out sparks and flames of gold. 42 STANZAS. I see thy lordly tenants all, Passing about in bright array ; Throughout the cheerful live-long clay Shedding light and joy through thy old hall. I hear their joyous merry laugh, I see them join the mazy dance ; Or, lifting high the spear or lance, As flagon's potent draught they quaff. I see them starting forth to war, I hear the trumpet's clanging blast ; And, when the cavalcade has past, I turn me to thy open door, And see a maid of tender years, Of noble race, and highly born ; 1 hear her, all so sadly, mourn, And see her eyes o'erflow with tears. STANZAS. 43 I see thee now, thou ruin grey, With ivy on thy mould'ring wall ; No joy lights up thy roofless hall, And. thou art fallen into decay. Hush'd are those hearts that erewhile throbbed, In those past days, with joy and pride ; Old ruin, keep me by thy side, For both alike of joy are robbed. Like thine, long time my heart was gay, And beams of joy lit up mine eye ; Like thine, my joy too soon did die, My spirits flag, my hopes decay. I hear the wind howl piteously, I see the bat around thee flit ; The owl within thy ivy sit, Glowering and watching stealthily. 44 STANZAS. Like thee my broken spirit moans, While memory, bat winged, hovers near; Old hall, there is a greater ruin here, In my poor heart, than o'er thy stones. Water ! dark, and cold, I see thy turbid stream Flow on, like spirit troubled With memory's sad dream, Of hopes and joys once felt, Now riven, wreckt, and lost, Of feelings soft and calm, By inward tempest tost. I see upon thy surface Reflected bright and clear, A star of heavens' firmament Resting upon thee there ; — 'Tis thus the darkened spirit In midst of care and pain, Receives a smile from heaven, To light it up again. RAIN. Rain, rain, beautiful rain, Falling so gently on mountain and plain ; Freshening the verdure and opening the bud, Cheerfully passing o'er meadow and wood, Fulfilling thy mission for mortal man's good ; Rain, beautiful rain. Rain, rain, drizzling rain, Stilly and thickly o'erspreading the plain ; Ceaselessly falling from hour to hour, Lying like dew-drops on leaflet and flower, Pearling the cobweb threads lower and lower ; Rain, drizzling rain. RAIN. 47 Rain, rain, cold sleety rain, Driving so madly on roadway and lane ; Pelting the trav'ler with pitiless rage, Sparing not infancy, manhood or age, Ceaselessly beating through thicket and hedge ; Rain, cold sleety rain. Rain, rain, pitiless rain, Descending in torrents on land and on main ; Ent'ring the poor man's lone hut in the night, Falling in twilight, and darkness, and light, Swelling the streamlets with foam-crests white ; Rain, pitiless rain. Rain, rain, thunder-storm rain, Woe to the traveller by thee o'erta'en ; Falling in madness, and fury and might, Rebounding from earth, sparkling with light From the glare of the lightning, lurid and bright ; Rain, thunder-storm rain. 48 RAIN. Rain, rain, sunshiny rain, Coming like happiness mingled with pain ; Falling to earth in eloquent showers, Speaking of life and joy to the flowers, Covering with blessings this wide world of ours ; Rain, sunshiny rain. Rain, rain, bounteous rain, From thee new life and vigour we gain ; Thou contest and goest by day or by night, Dispensing thy gifts in darkness and light, Gemming the world with thy pearl drops bright ; Rain, bounteous rain. Rain, rain, sweet summer rain, Falling on house top, and garden, and lane ; Washing the dust from the plants and the trees, Refreshing the flowers and cooling the breeze, Sweetening the honey drops, tempting the bees ; Rain, sweet summer rain. RAIN. 49 Rain, rain, heaven sent rain, Fall thou on earth again and again ; Softly and gently as angel's tears, Bringing new life, dispelling our fears, Joyously blending thy blessings with cares ; Rain, heaven sent rain. Joyous is the spring time, Joyous are the flowers ; Joyous is the sunshine, And the fresh'ning showers. 'o Joyous are the little birds Warbling forth their song — Joyous are the sportive lambs As they skip the flowers among. Joyous are the children, Merry, light, and gay ; Joyous are their parents' hearts Laughing at their play. 51 Joyous thus, is everything But this heart of mine ; Round which a deep, deep sorrow Ever more will twine. A THOUGHT. I saw a leaf one Summer's day, The brightest day in June, Fall from the tree until it lay, Gently, and calmly in its way, On Derwent's bosom soon. And there upon the glassy stream Of water, smooth and clear, Embosomed in the sunshine, It floated far and near ; A THOUGHT. 53 And look'd as calm, and happy, In that bright sunlit hour, As beauty's gentle spirit, Rising to inherit, Heaven as its dower. The waters murmured softly, And rippled as they passed ; And sang their songs of gladness, In concert with the blast Which played upon the surface, And whistled through the trees ; Cheering each drooping leaflet, With the freshness of its breeze. I watched the leaf, as, slowly, It sailed along the deep ; While all around, on every side, The playful fish did leap To catch the sylph-like flies, As, noiselessly, they flew, Watching their tiny shadows, On the flood's ethereal blue. 54: A THOUGHT. And as it still moved onward, Beneath a tree's deep shade ; A bright and glorious sunbeam, Just peering down a glade, Pierced through the sombre thicket, Its ray of brilliant light ; And fell upon the leaflet Effulgent, pure, and bright As ray of heavenly gladness, Shot forth from seraph eyes, To hail a truant spirit, Rising meekly to the skies. Oh ! 'twas a glorious sight, To see that lonely leaf ; In midst of shade as deep as night, Lit with the sweet and gorgeous light, Caught from a smile so gladly bright ! Like happiness in grief. A THOUGHT. 55 But, Oh, that ray how transient ! How soon its smiles were o'er ; And as its brightness died away — Like sunlight at departing day — Left the dark shadow from the wood, That swept across the silent flood — Even darker than before. Like a poor troubled heart, Bow'd down with heavy grief ; Whose pulse but beats in anguish Poignant — without relief ; Meeting some genial spirit, Loving, warm and true ; Causing a momentary glow, From which fresh sorrows after grow, And griefs burst out anewi Slowly, I watched the leaf pass on, Beneath that shady spot, From where that lovely light had been, And yet it knew it not. 56 A THOUGHT. Like beauty gently sleeping, Unconsciously the while, — Of friendship beaming on her, Its sweetest, loveliest smile. And thus it pass'd along, And less, and less, it grew ; Until it faded from my sight, Like daylight blending into night, Or spirit free from mortal strife, Passing from earth, to realms of light And everlasting life, There to be born anew. Oh, river cold ! how like to death Thy silent waters seem ; In which one might lay down, and pass To Heaven in a dream. Oh, sunshine ! smile of Heaven, Thou greet'st our passing breath, With hopes of joys to come, And life even after death. THE OLD AND NEW YEAR. 1854-5. Toll, toll, sad bells, Chime forth your muffled peal ; For grim cold death, The old year's breath, This hour stands ready to seal ; And his hoary locks of snowy white, Like silken and silver cords Binding together loving words, Encircle his brow with a halo of light — Toll, toll, sad bells. D 5S THE OLD AND NEW YEAR. Toll, mournful bells, At midnight dark and dim ; For the righteous cause Of Freedom's laws, Has been upheld by him ; And his wild and earnest warning voice 'Gainst oppression he has rais'd, While millions on his form have gazed, And at his noble bearing still rejoice. Toll, mournful bells. Toll, midnight bells, And let your saddest note On the wild gushing breeze, Down through the leafless trees, From the old belfry float. For hopes and joys which he gave, are past, And with the good old year are dying. Around his couch brave hearts are sighing, Breathing out sad memories of the past, Toll, midnight bells. THE OLD AND NEW YEAIt. 59 Chime softly, bells, Play out a requiem sad. O'er those who nobly fall Spread your wide funeral pall And make their spirits glad ; For a glorious saintly death they die Who die in honour's cause, For noble deeds around them throws A halo of light, as in death they lie, — Chime softly, bells. Ring, ring, old bells, Peal forth your wild notes high ; O'er all the earth, Go hail the birth, Of the new year, drawing nigh, And greet him with your joyous chime, And make his young heart glad. Let not one thought, in sorrow clad, Cloud his bright prospect at this happy time, — Ring, ring, old bells. GO THE OLD AND NEW YEAR. Ring, iing, loud bells, Peal forth your merry twang ; For the brave new year, The good new year, Gush out your wildest clang. For the same good cause the old year held, The new year will uphold ; And nations will, by him, behold The tyrant spirit awed and quelled. — King, ring, loud bells. A MIND'S RECALLINGS. When the sun has set in darkness, When his last mild ray is gone ; And the stars, like modest maidens, Glance out softly, one by one ; By the red glow of the fire Ere my midnight lamp is lit ; Musing on the past and present Wrapped in dreamy thought I sit. G2 A mind's recallings. And I wonder, in the darkness, Whether friends whom once I loved, Have the spirit-power to visit The earthly scenes in which they moved. And I fancy in my musings That their souls and mine are one ; That, although their bodies vanish, Yet their spirits are not gone. And in every thought and action I feel their influence o'er me still. As though they were really with me, Bend I to their loving will. And I see them still before me As they used to be of old, In their looks the same affection — Nothing death-like, nothing cold. a mind's recallings. G3 And I feel their breath upon me, And I breathe my soul with theirs ; And within my bosom garner All our former joys and cares. There I see Her timid glances ; Hear her whisper thoughts to me ; Guarding her expressions closely Lest they might be deem'd too free. And I feel the soft pulsations Of that heart that beat with mine, And, like woodbine's sweet embraces, Feel its tendrils round me twine. All love's sweetest scented flowers By lier presence call'd to bloom, Shed their choicest fragrance round me, In a dreamy, soft perfume. G4 a mind's recallixgs. And I feel her holy presence Checking each rebellious thought, While her mild approving glances Lead me to the path she sought ;— Tell me of the earthly pleasures Which have long been rent in twain ; Which from her removal from me, Never can be felt again ; Teach me not to grieve in anguish For hopes long since decayed and dead But before God's holy judgment Humbly to bow down my head. Teach me how to look up to Him Like the corn does to the sun, Intently gazing ever upward, Till its earthly task is done. A MIN'D'S RECALLINGS. C5 And, like it, when ripened fully, Droop my head in homage low, "Wait the time appointed for me To the reaper's scythe to bow. And her better spirit, o'er me Throws a halo's holy light ; And I see my grosser nature In the darkness of the night ; See the selfish thoughts and feelings, Which an earthly love had known ; Feel that she a better precept And advice to me had shown. And in this dark midnight hour, When warm mem'ries o'er me come, There I see her spirit near me, Looking, feeling just the same C6 a mind's recallings. As in former days I've seen her, In the days of happy love, When our hearts were first united, And a blessing from above Seemed to hover all around her In her sweet and holy beauty, As she, angel-like and trembling, Yielded up her love to duty. In these hours as I sit musing, Thus before me do I see Angel forms, and holy faces, As in love they beam on me. Thus I see, as in my childhood, Affection in my mother's eye. As in early life I saw her, So I see her standing by, a .mind's hecallixgs. G7 Guarding me from every danger, Lifting up my soul on high, Loving me whilst gently chiding, Pain'd to hear my sorrowing cry. Tending me in health and sickness, Watching me untiringly, Like a holy guardian spirit Loving me unceasingly. Soft her words as angel's whisper Falling gently on mine ear, Breathing to me words of comfort, Bringing joy, dispelling fear. And her gentle, loving hand, On my shoulder softly laid ; And the home of happy hours, Which her loving kindness made. G8 A. mind's RECALLING."*. And her sweet and holy kiss Trest upon my boyish lips, To my memory has the sweetness, Which the bee from floweret sips. And she stands before me now In an angel robe of light ; Affection beaming in the glances, Which she sheds on me to-night. And my father's sterner nature Comes before me like a dream. His manly form, and noble features As in early days, still seem, And I hear him once more chide me, Once more teach me moral truth ; Lead my stubborn nature upward Gently, as he did in youth. a mind's recallixgs. 69 And I see within him kindled Honest pride, to see me take The paths which he had pointed out And which I followed, for his sake. To see me catch poetic thoughts, To see me follow in his way — And take a literary course, And follow it from day to day ; In vain and emulous desire To reach the fame which he attain'd, And cull from nature and her laws Those lessons which Ms knowledge gained. And see him when my rough, crude thoughts First met his educated eye, How eagerly he read them o'er While I atood trembling, blushing by. 70 a mind's recallisgs. Close watching ev'ry smile that played Upon his animated face, And fearing lest my first essay Should want or metre, form, or grace. And well I hear the simple words Of sweet encouragement he gave, Which strengthened me in my resolve — A literary life to brave. And since in after life have been Those simple, loving words, and kind, The guiding star, and strengthening hope Round which my thoughts have ever twined. And onward still my path has been Illumin'd by those rays of love Which on earth he once shed o'er me, And still beams on me from above. a mind's uecallixcs. 71 And in this dark, dreamy hour, While these thoughts around me flit, See I still their spirits near me, As in reverie I sit. But I see them now before me, As my thoughts are onward led, When, from out their earthly bodies, The heav'n-sent breath of life has fled. And I feel the chilling coldness Of their lips once warm with life, As in fancy I bend o'er them, When their forms are freed from strife, Freed from pain and sorrowing anguish, Freed alike from joy and grief, When their earthly life has ended — Withered like an autumn leaf. 72 a mixd's recallings. And I feel their quiet spirits, Draw me gently from the earth, As they beckon me to follow, To a joyous heavenly birth. And they whisper in my hearing, Words of hope, and love, and joy ; Fill my soul with life extatic, Happiness without alloy. Raise my drooping, weary spirit, Fan it with an angel's breath — Freshen up its languid verdure, Save it from a sorrowing death. Carry it to realms of glory ; — At the throne of the Most High Supplicate His mercy for me, That my spirit may not die. A MIND S HECALLIXGS. 73 In the dark and lonesome night, Look I upward to the skies ; And the twinkling stars above me, Seem to me like seraph's eyes, Gently beaming love and gladness, O'er my trembling, yearning soul ; Smiling sweet encouragement, Onward, as the hours roll. Telling me, in truthful whispers, That my chastened spirit lives ; — Thus a meed of heaven's sweetness To me the twinkling starlight gives. Oh, in these sweet dreamy hours, While in reverie I sit, Loving thoughts and happy feelings, Round my memory seem to flit. E 74 a mind's recallings. Then I feel a sweet communing, As the moments slowly roll, With my spirit-friend's emotions, Thrill and quiver in my soul Till my very life and being Seem to leave their home of clay ; And my breath, in joyous whispers Mingles with their heavenly lay. And my heart, like heavenly lyre, With its chords attuned to song, "Vibrates to the sweet pulsations Of that holy spirit throng ; And the forms fast gathering round me, Which my fancy has called forth, Hail, while gently hovering o'er it The notes to which its chords give birth ; A MIND S RECALLIXGS. 7 J Wake its tremulous pulsations, — Sweep its chords with seraph's wing ; Strike upon them notes of gladness, Such as only angels sing. Thus I feel that heaven is near me, That my soul and theirs are one ; And I waken from my musings, Feeling not I am alone. From those loved ones severed from me, Do I learn this lesson well ; That in commune with the parted, Thus my soul does ever dwell. And I feel that those bright gems, SparkliDg high in heaven's dome, Are the eyes of fondly loved ones, Welcoming me to my home. 76 a mind's recallings. And my fancy leads me onward From this gross and sinful world, Till I feel my soaring spirit Floating up on wings unfurl'd, And a sweet, and low communing, Softly murmurs through the air ; Breathing in that midnight darkness, Loving whisperings everywhere. Thus my spirit floating upwards Holds communion with the skies ; And receives a ray of gladness, From the glance of seraph eyes. In the dark and midnight hour, Thus fond thoughts around me flit ; Thus while memories do entwine me, By the past my mind is lit ; — a mind's kecallings. 77 Thus God's blest and holy spirits All around me seem to rise — Thus in thought I commune with them, Mingling thus, the earth and skies. CONSTANCY. Once we were young dear, Now we are old ; But our affections dear Ne'er have grown cold. Bright years have past love Since thou wert mine, In the bright future love Still I am thine. In those fair sunny days When we were young, Joys bright and pearly Bound us were strung ; CONSTANCY. 79 And youth's sweet cheerful ray Sparklingly played Over the paradise Our love had made. Happiness, joyfulness, Beam'd in our eyes, As life's bright morning sun Mounted the skies. Since then the summer Of life has been past, But we together love Held to the last ; .And life's full mid-day sun Scorched us in vain, Still we toil'd onward Through joys mixed with pain. 80 CONSTANCY. Trials awaited us Heavy to bear, And thy calm brow love Furrowed with care. Down thy soft cheeks love Tear-drops have roll'd ; Sorrows unspeakable Glances have told ; But our fond truthful hearts Nothing could sever, Love with his firmest folds Held them together. And as life's autumn sun Down in the west, Gilding our ripened years Sinks down to rest : CONSTANCY. 81 Still we stand calmly, each Loving and loved, Holding affection which Nothing has moved. And in life's future Wintry career, Should storms burst over us, Love will be here. Still passing onward Blessing and blest, We shall be happy love — Hearts set at rest. Putting our trust in God, Hopefully living, Comfort to all around, Joyfully giving,— 82 CONSTANCY. We shall reap happiness Free from alloy, Where in our early life Sowed we in joy. And as the evening sun Molten and red, Illumines the clouds Arching up over head, And lights up the landscape With exquisite links, With warm sunny smiles While in darkness he sinks ; So we at life's even In calmness and rest, Will sink midst God's glory Elessing and blest. HOPE. Life without hope is weary, weary, And its hours are dark and dreary ; All is anguish, care and sorrow, Pain to-day and grief to-morrow ; The past all dark and dank and chill, The present dark and cheerless still, The future, fraught with every ill ; Oh ! life without hope is weary. 84 HOPE. Life without hope is weary, weary, Nothing happy, joyful, cheery ; The heart's best feelings all are broken, Affection blighted in its token ; The soul, of every hope, bereft — The heart with deepest anguish cleft, Not one gleam of sunshine left ; Oh ! life without hope is weary. Life without hope is dreary, dreary, Mind and heart grow weary ; Prayers and yearnings ceasing, Rebellious thoughts increasing ; Madness seizing on the brain, The heart still racked with pain, Hot fever in each vein ; Oh ! life without hope is dreary. noPE. 85 Life without hope is dreary, dreary, And the heart's throbs are weary ; Langour spreads o'er heart and mind, And in its trammels passions bind ; Melancholy, night and day, O'er the mind exerts its sway, Shuts out hopes last lingering ray ; Oh ! life without hope is dreary. Life without hope is weary, weary, Heartless, cold and dreary ; Leaving in place of gladness, Grief, pain, despair and madness ; Weary of its very breath, Fearing life, yet dreading death — The soulless form of nature saith, Life without hope is weary. 86 noPE. Life without hope is weary, weary, — Why not then be cheery ? If thy earthly love is broken, Seek in heaven a happier token ; Gocl is everywhere around, Blessings on each side abound, LTope and joy may soon be found. Oh ! life with hope is cheery. Life with hope is cheery, cheery, Hope on then — don't be weary ; Toil and work in gladness, Drive off care and sadness ; Ope the confines of your mind, God is merciful and kind ; Seek for hope, and you shall find, Life with hope is cheery. HOPE. 87 Life without hope is weary ; Strive, then, to make it cheery ! Speak a kind word in gladness To the heart bent down in sadness ; A single word, if kindly spoken, Will heal a heart with sorrow broken, And raise again hope's joyous token, Life, then, with hope, is cheery. A word, a kindly look just caught, A throb of sympathy, an inward thought, Raise up the drooping, aching heart, — Take, then, a wiser, nobler part ! Let not a spirit down be trod, Like worm beneath a grave-yard sod, But lead it upwards, towards its God, In humbleness of thought. S8 HOPE. Hope is a bright and joyous star, Which beams upon us from afar ; God's choicest blessing to us here, An antidote to grief and fear ; Let, then, no selfish word or thought, Repining, to our mind be brought ; No cold misanthropy be sought The brightness of that hope to mar. And, oh ! if life so joyous is, If hope can give it such a bliss, Oh ! give it freely where you can, And raise a drooping, falling man ; Heavenward turn rebellious minds ; Show them there the spirit finds Hope, and love, and joy, that binds That heavenly world to this. RICH AND POOR. Blow, wind, blow, Bend the tall elm, And the oak overwhelm And o'erthrow. Blow, wind, blow, Till the tough ash Falls with a crash, And lies low. 90 wen AND POOR. Blow, wind, blow, Creak the old sign, While wealth with his wine, Sits there below. Blow, wind, blow, The poor houseless pierce ; With thy blasts fierce, Strike him with woe. Blow, wind, blow, While the rich have wine, Let the poor man pine, — It is always so. Blow, wind, blow, While the bibber's nose Still ruddier grows Before the fire's glow. RICH AND POOR. 91 Blow, wind, blow, While with sobbing sighs A poor wretch dies In misery and woe. Blow, wind, blow, The poor man raise To his rightful place, And the rich lay low. MIDNIGHT BELLS. Hark ! from tower sadly chiming, Mournfully the sad notes float, From the Bells whose muffled voices Stifle in the Belfry's throat. Hark ! the faint and sobbing wailings Of the midnight spirit throng, Filling space with lamentations — Earth and sky with plaintive song. MIDNIGHT BELLS. 93 Stealing softly with their nioanings Through the silent leafless trees, Swelling into wrathful ehidings On the sorrowing midnight breeze. From the tower deeply booming, Hark ! the air is filled with woe, — Sounds of tumult, pain and weeping, Such as riven hearts can know. All the earth is cased in weeping, — Tears and sobs and harrowing groans Tell a dire desolation In their agonising tones. Hark ! the solemn hour is pealing, And the year is of the past. — Gather up his loving spirit, Guard him from the midnight blast. 94 MIDNIGHT BELLS. Let the mourning sorrowing people Bless him as he floats away, From this world of human suffering To the world of endless day. Toll, sad bells, and let his spirit Rise upon your mournful notes, As through midnight darkness cleaving Heavenward he gently floats. Bless his genial loving spirit, Bless his kind and joyous heart ; Bless the hopes he fondly cherished ; — Let his spirit now depart. * MIDNIGHT HELLS. 95 Hark ! from tower and steeple clanging, Wild notes rush in madness round, From the old bells' brazen clappers, With a cheering joyous sound. Drunk with madness, noise and clamour, Clanking forth with all their might ; The brave old bells are pealiug wildly Through the darkness of the night. Spreading joy, and mirth, and gladness, O'er the face of all the earth ; And with tumult and rejoicing Heralding the New Year's birth. * 06 MIDNIGHT BELLS. Hush ! the matin's soothing chime, Softly, sweetly, tolling low ; While all hearts in humble reverence To the throne of mercy bow. List ! the earnest prayers ascending ; See the throbbing bosoms swell ; See a fond and warm emotion On every lip and bosom dwell. While an earnest supplication For the New Year's happy birth, Rises in one song of gladness From all the joyful loving earth. Bells ! ye mourned in muffled sadness The good Old Year's untimely death ; Call now with your wildest clamour, For blessings on the New Year's breath. SEASONS. Spring came once in timid beauty At the season's early birth ; And in gentle loving gladness Refreshed the cold and dreary earth. — Spring, amidst her holy callings On the hearts and on the flowers, Found one little spot of mourning 'Midst life's budding sunny hours. 98 SEASONS. Summer came in all her gladness, Threw her blessings far and wide ; Overspread the earth with blossoms, In the fulness of her pride ; — ■ Summer found one little corner In the earth she loved so well, Which a tale of grief and anguish Could, in bitter sorrow, tell. Autumn came with luscious fulness, Mellow fruit and ripen'd corn Spread he over all creation, Plenteously at early morn. — Autumn found one little canker Eating into mellow core ; And the sorrow was remaining Deep and poignant as before. 99 SEASONS. Winter followed, dark and cheerless, Spread his snow on every side ; Threw his cold and icy garment O'er earth's confines far and wide — Winter found that cheerless comer, Felt its sad and wearv doom ; And remained for ever with it, Bound it in his icy tomb. In a heart that grief still lingers, Where all seasons thus have found it ; And the coming years will ever Find it where Old Time has bound it. SONGS OF CHILDHOOD. Pure spirits of our childhood, Ye household gods of mine, Whose silvery voices wooed me In times of "auld lang syne," Oh, hover o'er my couch, And make me truly blest, Ye are my guardian spirits That lull my soul to rest. 101 SONGS OF CHILDHOOD. Ye breathe to me of home, And joy, and happy hours ; Ye tell me of that pleasant time — Of childhood and its flowers ; When friends, long passed and gone, Around my pathway played, And soothed me when the fever came, And checked me when I strayed. Sweet rhymes and tales of infancy, How truly ye I love. Ye taught me first in gladnes, And still my spirits move. Dear, dear to me ye are, Ye songs of early youth, For ye are pure and holy, And tell of nought but truth. CANKER-WORM. Spring buds have cankers in them, Worms are found in choicest part, Young life's buds at core are eaten With the canker-worm at heart. Summer flowers are robbed of honey By the busy, pilfering bee, Life's own blossoms too are rifled Of their sweetest sanctity. CANKER- WOKM. 103 Fruits of Autumn oft are blighted By a pestilential breath, Hearts of mortals too when slighted, Meet a cold and heartless death. Winter's keen unkindly air, Chills and freezes up all life, And the human heart is frozen By dread misery and strife. Seasons all are full of sorrow, Pain and gall, and misery, Human hearts know no kind feeling, Till they lay them down to die. No " bridal gift " is half so dear As that of pure affection, where Fond hearts are joined in holy ties, — Whose love and Friendship never dies, — Hearts in whom truth and faith are found Where purest, holiest joys abound, — Hearts whose least throb of joy or woe Is mutual, and which only know One thought, one feeling, one delight, Whose every wish and thought is right, — Affection thus at bridal given Is the pure offspring of high heaven. FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE. What are gallant deeds of daring, Valiant charges in the fight, To a woman's calm endurance Of war's desolating blight ! Man can mix in bloody warfare, Fight like demon in the strife, Spread destruction all around him, Gloat in taking human life. 106 FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE. Man can kill his fellow creature, Fell him savagely to earth, Strike him with a tiger's fierceness, As his life were nothing worth. Man can hear of battle's glory, Of the laurels to be won, Rush forth madly to the slaughter, Where a demon's work is done, Man can talk in vaunt and boasting Of his prowess in the field, Swear that to a foeman's power He can ne'er be made to yield. That in front of battle's dangers He will nobly take his stand, And the foe shall cowe before him As he heads his gallant band. FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE. 107 Man at banquet thus can boast, Thus can vaunt his warlike skill, And with potent wine elated, Crush whole armies at his will. Man can leave the gorgeous banquet, With a hero's brave renown ; While his nation prays with fervour, That glory may his valour crown ; — Pass mid balls, and fetes, and banquets Offered him on every side Through the Allies' friendly kingdoms, To that field with carnage dyed ; There, while plumes and trumpet soundings Herald forth his wondrous might, Spur his troops to meet the foemen — Turn and leave them in the fidit ! 103 FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE. In safe trench or distant yacht Wait wars vacillating tide, And, when danger is arrested, Come forth with a sick'ning pride, Claim the honour of the conflict Which his men had nobly won, Yaunt his own intrepid courage, Boast of deeds he had not done ! Or can pass from that same banquet To the land where war is rife, And in scenes of deadly carnage, See the soul revolting strife. He can see the foeman's numbers, Stricken down by ruthless hate ; See his chosen noble band, Share that fearful bloody fate. FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE. 109 Man can see this foul destruction Of the life his God has given ; See the bonds of human loving, By the foulest passion riven ; Brotherhood and kindly feeling Rent in twain by demon power ; Sympathies of years and ages Crushed in one tempestuous Lour ; See the direst desolation Round his pathway thickly spread, — • See God's bravest, noblest beings Numbered with the silent dead, — See their ghastly dying anguish, Hear their agonising cries, Piercing through the midnight darkness, Rising wildly to the skies. 110 FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE. Man can smite his fellow-man, Aim a death blow at his heart, — Leave him on the field to perish, As he turns him to depart. He can homeward wend his footsteps, Homage court at every turn, And for showers of worldly honours, Feel desire within him burn. Man can boast his bloody prowess, Show his limbs are foully scarred ; Vaunt his cruel deeds accomplished, Claim for them a paid reward. Man can strut about in baubles Earned upon the battle field ; Can parade, as sword of honour, The weapon which man's doom has sealed. FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE. Ill Man can be a demon-spirit, Can with warlike passion foam ; Can return, with murder laden, To be a demi-god at home. Woman to that scene of carnage, To that field besmeared with gore, Wends her quiet, gentle passage, — Lands upon that distant shore As an angel fresh from heaven Lights upon this sinful earth, And refreshes by her presence Those erewhile doom'd to pain and death, Where are rampant dire confusion, Pains and horrors, grief and death, Famine, pestilence, and bloodshed And a soul-polluting breath, 112 FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE. Woman in that scene of horror, Passes angel-like and calm, Shedding round her, like a halo, A fresh and sweet and holy balm. Woman when the gaunt war-demon Has upraised his bloody form, When o'er earth in rage and fury, Rises war's tempestuous storm, — Feels her sympathies awaken, And her loving heart expand, With a warm and holy yearning, For the sufferers of the land. Woman sees the maim'd and dying, Hears their piteous helpless cry ; Sees the hopeless look of anguish, Deep impressed on every eye ; FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE. 1 1 3 And a soft consoling spirit Fills her soul with heavenly care, As, with holy ministrations, She fulfils her mission there. In that place of pain and sorrow, Sobs and groans and piercing cries, Where in doubt and unbelieving, The maim'd and wretched suff'rer lies ; Holy Florence, calm and gentle, Angel-like in voice and form, Checks the soul's rebellious ravings, Lulls its dread tumultuous storm. In the morning's early greyness, In the noontide's glaring light, In the soft, calm evening hour, And at solemn still midnight, — 114 FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE. There beside those beds of suff'ring, Bends she o'er the couch of death, Ministers sweet words of comfort, Raises up a drooping faith. In that place of plague and famine, Mid cank'ring wounds and writhing pain, Breathing pestilential foulness, Hearing groans and cries profane, — Seeing fever, pain and madness, Wounds aud care on every side, Met with harrowing sobs of anguish, Bursting from the sad heart's tide — i o Turning now with word of comfort, Now with holy solacing, Bending o'er the dying pallet, Where the heart with pain is wrun FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE. 115 Smoothing now the tumbled pillow, With an angel's gentle care, Solacing the wounded spirit, — That angel sister still is there. Light her step as angel's footprints Falling gently on the earth, Soft her voice as seraph's whisper Heard at morning's early birth. And her words so pure and holy, Breathe of heaven without alloy, Lead the troubled spirit upward, In an extacy of joy. Thus she soothes man's deepest sorrow, Calms his fears and pain and grief ; To his troubled, aching spirit, Brings a holy, calm relief. 11G FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE. Fans his hot and fevered brow, Lays Ins aching head aright, Tends him in his direst ravings, Through the long and dreary night. In the hours of woe and suffering, With a still unwearied care She, with soul attuned to mercy. Whispers comfort every where. As the sun, his timid glances, In the morning's early light, Casts on nature's freshning features, After close and gloomy night, As the beams he sheds at even On the same dear loving soil, Gently fall, like smile of gladness, After day of weary toil, FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE. 117 So the soft and gentle sweetness Of her pure and loving heart, Fall upon the sufferer's spirit, And a gleam of hope impart. Man can ply his deadly calling, Wound and crush, and slay, and kill, Hurl destruction at his foemen, Bend them to his iron will. Man with passion raves, and hatred, Lonc-s to kill his fellow-man : — With a saintlike sweet devotion Woman tends the hapless one, And the more the pain and anguish Which the wretched sufferer feels, The greater is the sympathy Which her gentle soul reveals. 118 FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE. Man but strives for earthly honours, Woman for a heavenly crown ; Man will reap the world's bright harvest, Woman an eternal throne. SOME ONE LOVES THEE STILL In thy hour of tribulation, When sad griefs thy thoughts invade, When thy soul is pierced with sorrow, Call this truth unto thy aid, — Some one loves thee still ! 120 SOME ONE LOVES TIIEE STILL ! When thy heart is torn with anguish, When with grief thy bosom swells, Oh believe in midst thy sorrow, That 'tis truth's own voice which tells, Some one loves thee still ! When thy eyes are swollen with weeping, "When bowed down with grief and pain, In thy misery fondly listen To the voice which says again, Some one loves thee still ! Should thy dearest friends forsake thee, Should they pass thee coldly by, Yet in midst thy desolation Listen to that joyous cry, Some one loves thee still ! SOME ONE LOVES THEE STILL.' 121 And should pain and ling'ring illness Bend and shatter thy loved form, In the midst of thy despairing May these words thy bosom warm, — Some one loves thee still. Should a subtle wavering Cloud with doubt thy coming morrow, Cast it out thy inmost mind, And believe mid all thy sorrow Some one loves thee still. Though the world may seem to spurn thee, Cruelly may bend thee down, Cast its sting of malice at thee, Meet thee with reproachful frown, Some one loves thee still. 122 SOME ONE LOVES THEE STILL ! Though mid briars thy foot is planted, Though foul snares beset thy ways, Though thy path is hemmed by dangers, Yet that loving voice still says, Some one loves thee still. Should thy fond and loving heart In its inward depths be torn, Though rack't with pain and rent with grief, Let these words remove the thorn, Some one loves thee still ! Should all earthly sympathies Cruelly from thee be rent, Should they spurn thy love with loathing, Still in truth these words are meant, Some one loves thee still ! SOME OXE LOVES THEE STILL ! 123 Oh, when pressed by earthly sufferings, When thy soul in anguish prays, Look thou upward in thy trouble, While a voice from heaven says, Thy Father loves thee still ! AN ANNIVERSARY. On this glad day, when all thy friends rejoice, I may not see, or hear thee ; I may not have thee near me, Nor hear the music of thy long-loved voice. Thy sweet and true, and thoughtful eyes, May not in glances meet my own ; Nor may thy voice's loving tone Bid thrill of pleasure in my breast arise. AN ANNIVERSARY. 12; But though I may not meet thee, or behold Thy dear and charmed form ; My spirit, rising o'er the storm Of my rebellious feelings, will enfold "Within its ample scope, thy peerless self; -Will compass thee, and be For ever wrapped around thee, Like potent spell of some wild fairy elf; Will soar across the void and empty space Which intercepts our meeting, And with a warm and fervent greeting, Will meet thy spirit face to face ; Will hover fondly o'er and near thee, And in the silence of thy breast, Where happy, gentle thoughts still rest, Keep silent, truthful watch o'er thee. 126 AN ANNIVERSARY. And thou shalt feel within thy hearts recess A chord of happy consciousness awaken ; And while with sympathetic union shaken A momentary thrill will my own fond heart bless. Oh, from the depths of my too loving soul, A prayer for thee is softly breath'd ; And in my heart thy form is wreath 'd With hopes, and destinies thy spirit does control. And this fond prayer shall float to where thou art, And pass through distant space to thee ; And, as each word is breathed my me, Shall fall like gentle music on thy heart ; And thence reverberate through the same wide space, And bring to me thy fond heart's thrill. A mutual love our souls shall fill, And thus with gentle communings our hearts embrace, BEAUTY IN ALL SEASONS. I love the gentle Spring time, Its sunshine and its showers, Its bursting buds and leaflets, Its early opening flowers ; I love its genial freshness, I love its early birth, The fragrance and the beauty It sheds o'er all the earth. 128 BEAUTY IN ALL SEASONS. I love the merry Summer, Its gorgeous swell of flowers, Its warm and dancing sunlight, Its shaded leafy bowers ; I love its warmth and gladness, Its cheerful loving face, Its happy joyous laughter Ringing through every place. I love the mellow Autumn, Its ripened fruit and corn, Its calm and gentle evenings, Its fresh and balmy morn ; I love its glorious foliage, With wondrous hues o'erspread, And the rustling leaves in forest dell, Strewed round me sear'd and dead. BEAUTY IX ALL SEASONS. 129 I love the ice-crowned Winter, Its frost and whitened snows, Its turbid brooks and streamlets, Its skeleton hedge-rows ; I love the cold hard greyness Of its rocks, and woods, and trees, Its frosty skies, its hardened ground, Its sharp and piercing breeze. Thus through the passing seasons, I love each change to trace, And watch each sweet gradation Tass over nature's face ; I note these varied aspects From their budding to their fall, And feel, that, be it sun or shade, There's beauty in them all. THE MOTHER-YEAR. Night, spread thy black mantle o'er the world, And shroud it with a funeral pall ; With thy dark hand grasp all, The Mother- Year is dying. Put the whole earth in mourning ; Let thy black banner be unfurled. The cheerful day to sorrow turning : The Mother-Year is dying. THE MOTHER YEAR. 131 Muffle all the old church bells, Let the wind low moan in sadness, Hush all sounds of mirth and gladness, The Mother- Year is dying. Whisper low and gather softly Round her, while she throbs and swells With throes and pains unearthly ; The Mother- Year is dying. A good and loving friend to us, The Mother- Year has been ; A happier one was never seen, And now, she's dying. In her glad train was brought, Peace to the loving universe ; Though it was dearly bought By her now dying. 132 THE MOTHER YEAR. A Mother's pains are on her now, Her sighs come thick and fast ; God, she cannot last ! ' Tis midnight now, she's dying. Breathe a fervent prayer for her, Ask blessings on her haggard brow, With pain-drops sprinkled o'er, Oh ! friends, she's dying. The clock booms forth the midnight hour, As her last long breath is drawn, And her blest spirit now has flown ; The Mother- Year is dead. Spread the sad tidings o'er the earth, Draw the black curtains lower, The Mother sank in giving birth, And now lies dead. THE MOTHER YEAR. 133 Down, man, in prostrate sorrow down, And mourn the mother's fate ; Gaunt Death, he would not wait To let her see her child. But hark ! the new-born infant's moan With plaintive piteous tone, Sobbingly mingles with her dying groan In wailings sad and wild. Take up the infant's fragile form, Tend him with utmost care, Shut out the chilling air For the New-Year lives. His limbs fashioned slenderly, Close wrap in mantles warm. Swathe him most tenderly. Now that he lives. 134 THE MOTHER YEAR. In thy wondrous wisdom, grant God, Choice blessings on his head : Man, spread a soft and downy bed For the motherless New- Year. World, ruffle not his onward path ; The path his parent trod : Love him, nor let one word of wrath Salute his infant ear. J*ew Year's Eve, 1S36. MY HOUSEHOLD SPIRIT. There is a spirit fills this lonely room, A spirit manifest, though undefined, Which hovers round me as I sit, or pace The floor in silent thoughtfulness. Turn where I will, or move, or be at rest, That same fond spirit hovers round me still, And enters e'en into my inmost thoughts, And moulds my saddened musings to its will. 13G HOUSEHOLD SPIRIT. My very books are filled, each page, each line, Each word, nay, every single letter With its enthralling fulness, and I read At once, though in a different spirit, The writer's inmost meanings. Thus read I Double ; and in each separate sentence Read out the author's wording ; and cull And glean from it his every meaning ; Follow his arguments, and note their force ; See the whole tenor of his worded thoughts, And understand his various reasonings. But at same time I read, aye, word by word, A dear translation of each sep'rate passage Render'd into my inmost heart in truthful-wise By this my household spirit. If I sit And muse, my heart still communes with it, Trembling and quivering in its inmost chords, And fill'd with sweet and charmed sympathies, E'en to o'erflowing. "While its quick pulsations HOUSEHOLD SPIRIT. 137 Tell of the wondrous pow'r by which 'tis held By the lov'd spirit which imbues its every feeling. The tendrils of my mind which stretch around me, Seeking to catch at some vague thing round which To twine and fasten, — something to which, in Gentle-wise, my yearning soul may cling As food to think upon ; — turn in which way They will, — clasp at whatever form they find— Or shoot in whate'er direction, still twine Around its unseen presence, and draw me Nearer to it. One loving tendril, Soft and pliant, now springing from my mind Throws forth its gentle arm towards heaven To catch at holy thoughts and reverences Of saints and angels, and at same moment Clasps in its spiral fold the unseen form Of this my household spirit, and binds it Ever firmly to me, linking its soul Tu mine in one life-long and close embrace. Another tendril, stretching far into 13S HOUSEHOLD SPIRIT. The moorland waste, and revelling mid ferns And heather blossoms, which grow in wild Luxurious profusion, and spread out Their nature's carpet for the mind of man To roll and revel on : mid gentle moss Soil lying, like a downy pillow on The rough unbroken earth, and tempting e'en The unwearied to take repose, and Rust upon its velvet bed : mid purple Bilberries, and red hued whortles, spangling And dotting here and there the wiry stems And dark green foliage of the parent shrub, Whose stunted growth but scarce out-tops the heath, And whose simple blossoms, warm-ting'd like Virgin snow blushing beneath the ardent Gaze of the red setting sun, glow with a Heightened beauty, and contrast, with sweet Effect, with the broad flood of purple bloom .Spread in such wild profusion round : mid Yellow flowered gorse, tangling with sharpened HOUSEHOLD SPHHT. 139 Thorns tlie lonely pathway, and choking up The lesser plants : mid blight hued butterflies, Whose gorgeous colours now borrowed from The azure sky seem, flitting round and round. Like flakes of heaven itself floating about The joyous earth, an J bringing blessings t > the Fairest flowers; now glittering in crimson Ve^ts, now spangling the rich dark carpet Of the heathery moor with floating gold, Like truant fragments of an orient ray ( 11 rhe bright setting sun, seeking the Sweetest of earth's charming flowers on which To fall to rest ; now in a plumage of the Purest white like heaven's own spirit, now In sombre brown or reddish purple, And now again with wings of many hues, Of every rainbow tint, and every change Of shade and colour, gaudy as peacock, And as vainly spreading out their gorgeous Plumage for the sun to shine upon and 140 HOUSEHOLD SriRIT. Kiss in amorous dalliance ; now Mid the busy ants thronging their tiny way, Their broad highway, which they themselves have formed From their strong colony, and passing to And fro with all the haste and energy 0,f busy man along the city's streets ; Some, like strong porters, carrying heavy Burthens, others at greatest speed bent on Some hasty errand rushing and hurrying On, others in knotted groups holding Sweet converse or discussing trade, and others Helping on a wearied brother with His heavy load, and teaching men by sweet Example to bear each others burthens : — Mid brilliant beetles of all shapes and colours, Bees light of wing and humming in the sun, Moths of each form and figure, from the Exquisitely small and fairy form of The sylph-like feather-moth, with its fragile Wings, which even a breath of air or drop TTOrSEHOLD SHOOT. 141 Of summer rain disable and destroy, To the bronze hued burnet, with its crimson Spots, darting along in all its force and Power ; grasshoppers springing to and fro, And chirping crickets of the field ; flies Revelling on leaf and stone, and mass of Fallen rock o'ergrown with lichen ; or, mid Stealthy lizzards basking on the moss-grown Bank, or lying panting on some sunny stone, Or peering out from neath the stag's-horn moss With brilliant piercing eyes watching approach The unconscious fly, or darting forth its Pliant tongue to catch the unwary prey ; — While, crossing o'er the path in lightning haste, The mottled snake, insidious, glides along Twining its pliant form around the stones, And hiding mid the moss and heath as if Afraid to show its form except in hasty, Hurried Hashes to man's polluting eye : — Mid all these scents upon the moorland waste, 142 HOUSEHOLD SPIRIT. This tendril of my mind, in midst of nature's Wildness, culls with the purple blossomed heath, The painted butterflies, the bees, the snakes, The wily hazards, and the fairy moths, With every scene, a blessed memory Of the sweet spirit which surrounds me. Another, stretching to the shore of the Wild, but far off, ocean, and wandering Restlessly along its pebbly beach, or Resting awhile upon a mass of rock, And listening to the murmuring waves Telling their plaintive tale of saddened grief, And wailing the human dead of which they Are the moving tomb ; whispering sad thoughts, And waking better memories in man's Sad truant heart, and calling him up for ever Onwards from human worldliness to that Spiritual vagueness which his mind can Compass not, and leading him from bitter Thoughts and unbelief engendered by the HOUSEHOLD SPIRIT. 143 Sad world's trials, to fevered fancies Of the world beyond, to which the waves seem But a fitting portal through which to pass, — ■ "Wave after wave, receding from the beach, Seeming to beckon on the truant spirit To follow to its watery doom, while each Returning wave, dashing against the Land, advancing foams and fumes in anger At delay, then falls into a gentle Murmur, chiding the wayward heart for this Its cowardice, and anon fretting to find Its power thwarted, and its prayers abused By the mean thoughts of man, dashes in fury At his feet, and laves him with its briny Tears ; — soothing and murmuring gently on, Chiding and sorrowing in thoughtful strain, Roaring and fuming in the maddest form Of the most tow 'ring passion ; falling again Into a holy calm, and perfect lull, And whispering holiest, heavenly music 144 HOUSEHOLD SPIRIT. Into the listener's ear, the waves go ever On, and teach the human heart sad lessons Of its own unworthiness and perfect Littleness, — yet withal filling that heart With sweetest music and delicious thoughts At times of happier lands from whence those Strains come floating. There, listening to The murmuring waves, and drinking in the Sound of the delicious fulness of the Surge's music, this tendril picks up with Every shell and pebble, with every Branch of weed, a thought of the fond spirit, And drinks sweet memories with each swelling Sound, each note of heavenly music, and Each sough and sigh, as wave on wave comes Rolling landward. Another gentle tendril starts, And following memory's pathway, stretches Its subtle arm to where a river Dashes and foams adown a steep descent IIOrSEITOLD srmiT. 145 Where woods of thickest growth o'erhang the head, And make the light subdued and gentle, e'en in The blaze of day, — where rocks and fallen trees Impede the torrent's progress, fill up its Rugged course, and fast increase its fury, — "Where all is wild, and full of wildest beauty, And nature's noble grandeur undisturbed By man's intrusive habits, — where ferns And lichens, mosses and creeping plants, and Floods of flowers, grow undisturbed, gemming The grassy pathway and the rocky banks On either side skirting the foanling streamlet, — "Where small still lakes in placid beauty lie Amid the fallen rocks, and tangled weeds, And spread their calm and glassy surface out To catch the beauteous image of each Flower and leaflet, and hold them folded And impressed upon its loving bosom, — Where, dancing wildly, like an endless stream Of liquid diamonds thrown up in air 14-6 HOUSEHOLD SPIRIT. By some wild fairy elf in joyous sport, To watch them sparkle in the streams of light Which dart between the quivering leaves and Branches, and, like smile of cheerful welcome, Fall lightly on the waters, myriads Of pearly drops dance lightly in the air, And sink at last into the whitened foam, — Where small clear streams, like wanton children, part From their parent stream, and gambol round the Rocky fragments, playing and singing joyously, And adding to the rushing murmur of Their furious parent, — who foams and fumes And dashes madly, on o'er the rocks and Moss grown trunks and fallen trees, as if its Passion boiled at these its ingrate children, — Their own sweet voice of music. Where, now, these Wantons fall and trickle down the slippery Sides of some dark weed-grown chasm, with Plaintive, saddened murmurings, wailing Their dreary lot, — now gurgle in some HOUSEHOLD SPIRIT. 1 47 Hidden hollow, — now hiss around some rapid Eddy, — and now tinkling along o'er Many a rounded pebble, send up their Gentle voices in a flood of notes of Sweetest music, like sound of silver bells Heard floating o'er some distant lake at Twilight's mellowing hour, in cadence soft A nd gentle. "Where, dancing wildly, throwing Up spray of whitened softness, these streams Dash on, and foam through moss-grown portals Opening amid the rocky barriers Stretching afar into its waters, and Damming up each glistening streamlet till It forms a placid lake of smoothened Beauty, on whose calm and stilly surface Cool shadows fall, and the bright reflex of The trees and flowers rests undisturbed. — Even there, in this sweet place, filled with Soft memories of past enjoyment ; of II i pies, of happiness, of joys, and sorrows, 14S HOUSEHOLD SPIRIT. And remorse ; of pain and poignant grief ; of Love, of holy aspirations, and the Exquisite delights of chastened pleasure, — Even there, where two fond hearts have wandered Forth, and joy'd together in all the flood Of nature's beauty which God had planted Round them, — where they had revelled In luxuriant enjoyment of that Delightful spot, and felt their hearts Elated and their spirits filled with Better, purer, holier feelings than E'en they had felt before ; — when heaven, to Them, seemed merged in earth itself, and Earth approach the glorious heaven ; — where Silent communings of soul with soul, made Earth a heaven, and rendered joyful E 'en the loneliest and most solitary Spot in that most beauteous place. — Even there This tendril from my inmost mind stretches Its fond and loving form, and to the HOUSEHOLD SPIRIT. 140 Softest and most genial memories Of scenes and sympathetic feelings, Binds in a lov'd embrace, the spirit's form Which ever dwells and floats around me. Whichever way or form my thoughts may turn In wayward fancy, or in saddened mood ; — Whether, in merry guise they now may sport -And revel 'mongst the joyous scenes which now Do crowd my memory, and make my mind A perfect living labyrinth of joy And pleasure, and fill my soul with sweetest Memories of times long past. Whether in Sorrowing mood they brood upon the pains And griefs of bygone memories, filling Their very weariness with bitter food C ulled from the dread experience of days And years of heavy suffering, of doubts And waverings, of dreary fancies and Rebellious risings of my inmost soul : Whether iill'd with sad remembrancer 150 HOUSEHOLD SPIRIT. Of Jays and years misspent, and God's best gift- A mind imbued with truth and knowledge — Perverted by the world's hard usage from What it was to what it should not be, A thing of doubts and unbelief. Whether Filled with yearning sympathies for all V> T ho suffer in spirit, mind, or body ; With lofty aspirations for a purer, Holier, better state ; a calm desire For a happier time when my soul may Rise above the sorrows which surround it, And breathe a purer atmosphere than that In which 't has had its being ; whether bowed Down with grief and anxious care, eating And cankering into my very heart, Rendering its inmost core a well of Pain and suffering, tearing its fondest Chords and rending them in twain with fury, Casting out its fondest and most loving Wishes, its chastened thoughts, its ardent HOUSEHOLD SPIRIT. J 51 Sympathies, its fond pulsations ; plucking- with Ruthless hand that gentle flower of love Which, springing from the smallest germ, placed in My aching heart by that sweet spirit's power, Had taken root, and grown up like some Healthy plant till now its buds had opened And disclosed the beauty of its perfect Flower just opening into bloom, but To be snatched away and broken down And trampled rudely on ; — whether weigh 'd down With weary wretchedness, with grief or pain, With disappointments keen and bitter, with Fondest hopes nipped in their early bud, Or rudely blighted in their later hours, Just as my loving heart had felt that their Accomplishment was near, — so near as to Be grasped and held in its own ample folds ; — ■ With hopeless wretchedness, and maddened grief; — With mental pains, such as the weary and The sad at heart alone can feel ; — wrung with \u2 HOUSEHOLD SPIRIT. The deepest sorrow ; — thrown down from the high Tinnacle, on whose lofty point fond hopes Were built ; — sunk in the direst and most Woeful desolation, without a ray Of hope to cast its gentle smile into Its inward self ; whether my memory Shows me, in maddened and unearthly mood, Cowering beneath the very thoughts which Lurked about me, and peering down into My inward self in dread to see the low And smouldering fire which ever burns Within me, throwing up now and then a Fitful and sepulchral flame, which must in Time consume me, — fearing to glance into My inmost soul, lest there, in midst of this For ever burning constant heat I there Should find such thoughts, that even / should shrink From and abhor, — rebellious thoughts which Ever and anon will start, and flash before My very eyes, and dazzle e'en mj HOUSEHOLD SPIRIT. 153 Vision with their lurid brightness ; — Distracting me with doubts and dire misgiving Of all things but one, and which are all Unearthly and unhallowed. — With brain O'er-racked with gloomy thoughts, with fever Raging in my mind and heart, and a sad Sense of void and inward-wanting filling My sickened soul, and prostrating my Nerves and frame, — with grief gnawing for ever At my anxious heart, and rendering e'en Pain of body a joy and blessing when Compared with it in dread intensity; — Yearning for some kind word, some look of love, Some ray of hope, some glance of consolation, A throb of sympathy, a quiv'ring lip, A moistened eye, a softened and Subdued soul-breathing whisper, a gentle sigh Scarce audible and half repressed, to tell Of hope and joy in store for me in the Dim future of my strange career. — 154 HOUSEHOLD SPIRIT. Whether In these drear misanthropic ways, my thoughts Inured to pain and misery, will grovel, And find a refuge 'mong the saddest scenes, Or, lifting themselves far up above these Wearying and soul depressing, but yet Most natural feelings, they find their own More genial natures leading them on To memories of sympathies they have Awakened, and joys which they have shared. Basking in sunny spots, and revelling In nature's choicest beauties, carolling Songs of praise, or trilling notes of gladness ; Joyously listening to some fancied Words, heard long ago, mid pleasant scenes, From lips of love and friendship. Hanging In fervid extasy on some fond look, Some genial thought, some ray of hope, Cast on me from the bright and heavenly Glance of one I loved. Listening through HOUSEHOLD SPIRIT. 15' Memory's medium to the sound of (lushing waters laving my heated brow, And spreading freshness and vigour through my Weary frame ; and communing with thoughts Of happy hours, spent pleasantly mid scenes Which memory oft recals, when, heart In heart and soul in soul I wandered ;h with that kind genial form Whose spirit dwells around me ; when Aspirations breathed by one, were echoed Back with sweet reverberations by the Other ; when each stretched forth a helping Hand to strengthen good and holy feelings ; When not a wish or thought was felt by one, But was shared in by both ; when mutual Hopes, and sympathies and destinies were Ours, and ours only, and all was happiness Anil joy and love. Whether in midst Of these sweet communings, or when our hearts Felt even higher yearnings, and soared 156 HOUSEHOLD SPIRIT. Away in happy contemplation of The joys of heaven, of God's great goodness And our Saviour's love, when we spoke confidingly Of our dear hopes of after life, when prayer Was offered up to heaven in silent Thoughtfulness, when our souls were lifted up With buoyant hopes of joys far higher than The world can offer, when every good And high and noble thought, when every Lofty impulse, every generous wish, Each holy thought and aspiration, Each loving sympathy, nay, every Mental struggle, every inmost thought Though not expressed, each throb and each Pulsation, was shared alike by both, And made us one in heart, in soul, in very Being. In all these changes, in whate'er Direction my thoughts may veer and turn, Where'er my fancy rambles, — and where'er A train of thought may lead to, — no matter HOUSEHOLD SPIRIT. 157 At what link it break, or wheresoe'er it Bend — my mind, inconstant to all other, Is firmly fixed on it — that ever Present sweet and gentle spirit. Turn where I will Look, think, or speak, join in whatever sport Or serious occupation ; whatever Mood may seize upon me ; whether I read, • Or muse, or write ; whatever circumstance Or train of thought and reason I May indulge in ; whate'er my acts, my Thoughts, my fancies, or my memories ; That same fond spirit, — my sweet household Treasure, the guardian angel of my Earthly life and future hopes, the guiding Star to mercy's seat, the solace of my Heart, the well-spring of my fondest joys And soother of my deepest sorrows, — still Hovers o'er and round me, blending its form Unseen yet always present, with every Thought and feeling which springs, or haply takes 158 HOUSEHOLD SPIRIT. Possession of my mind, giving a tone And colour to each phase of thought ; mixing Its unseen presence up with every wish And every aspiration, and making Manifest its loving power o'er me. Oh ! may that pure and loving spirit rest For ever near me in the dim future, Whate'er that future be. — Where'er I move Or wander ; where'er I rest or muse, Whate'er my fate, my earthly destination, And whate'er I may, in joy or sorrow, Try to compass ; oh ! in each change of scene, God, in thy wondrous goodness grant that that Blest form in which my mind and memory Dejights to revel, may ever rest with Me ; calming each troublous mood, chastening Each grief and sorrow, checking rebellious Thoughts and ingrate feelings, subduing Worldly wishes, soothing the aches and pains Of mind and body, and turning e'en the HOUSEHOLD SPIRIT . 159 Direst misery to joy and happiness ; Moulding my spirit in a better form ; Teaching me patient resignation to Thy all-gracious will ; bending my stubborn Nature to a meek submission to thy Wise decrees, and thus imbue my soul With such its loving influence, as that I may partake the goodness of its nature ; That I may through it be led to better, Nobler thoughts, and keep it as a joyful Medium through which the way to heaven And th}- most glorious presence may Open out before me. 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