THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 THE 
 
 City of Plague, 
 
 AND 
 
 OTHER POEMS, 
 
 BY 
 
 JOHN R. BARLOW, 
 
 AUTHOR OF " JOHN'S TRIP, OR A VISIT TO NIAGARA," 
 "THE THREE DEGREES," AC. 
 
 NIAGARA FALLS : 
 WILLIAM POOL, 
 
 GAZETTE BUILDING. 
 
 1873.
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1873. 
 
 By JOHN R. BARLOW, 
 In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.
 
 To 
 
 L. 0. BLIAL, 
 
 OF CHICAGO. 
 
 DEAK OLD TIME FRIEND : 
 
 My Boyhood's Pride ! 
 
 Companion of youthful glee! 
 While memory dwells' mid scenes of yore, 
 
 My heart goes back to thee ; 
 And youthful hours, when innocence 
 
 Ruled every thought and word, 
 Come to my heart and make it beat, 
 
 As when in youth it stirred 
 In throbbing answer to the tones 
 
 Of Friendship, Love and Truth; 
 Oh, happy hours ! oh, joyous scenes ! 
 
 Oh, grand, immortal youth ! 
 Yi ar after year may come and go, 
 
 As wave on wave doth swell, 
 But memory like an undertow, 
 Brings back youth's scenes with brighter glow, 
 
 Those scenes we love so well, 
 The Sea of Life, like any sea 
 
 By storm is often tossed,
 
 And many barks in sunshine launched, 
 
 Are in the tempest lost; 
 But you and I have made our way 
 
 Through weather fair and foul, 
 For though we've seen Dame Fortune smile, 
 
 We've also seen her scowl; 
 She's played us many a doleful prank, 
 
 Yet, still, we sail Life's sea; 
 You've reached a calm and sunny clime, 
 
 While storms encircle me; 
 But Fortune's winds may make a shift, 
 
 Or something turn the tide, 
 And you may be surprised some day 
 
 To see me at your side; 
 Till then, accept this tribute, which 
 
 An humble Poet pays, 
 To Thee, the chief of youthful friends, 
 To happy scenes of olden times 
 
 And joys of other days ! 
 
 JOHN R. BARLOW.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 THE CITY OF PLAGUE, 9 
 
 THE LAND BEYOND THE TIDE, - - 39 
 DEATH OF THE OLD YEAR AND BIRTH OF THE NEW, 44 
 WILL YOU MEET ME UP IN HEAVEN, MOTHER DEAR? 47 
 
 OH WHERE HAVE THE ROSES ALL GONE? 50 
 
 THE NEW LOVE, 52 
 
 THE CLOSING OF THE DAY, - 55 
 
 DOWN THE AISLES OF TIME, - 56 
 
 WHY THE BABY DIED, - 58 
 
 BREAKING THE ENGAGEMENT, 59 
 
 THE DAWN OF THE NEW LIFE, 61 
 
 FROST PICTURES, 62 
 
 SUNBKAMS, - 64 
 
 IT IS NEVER TOO LATE TO MEND, - 65 
 
 ONLY A LITTLE BRAID, 67 
 
 A LOVER'S GREATEST DISAPPOINTMENT, 63 
 
 A NOVEMBER STORM, - 71 
 
 LIFE'S HILL, 74 
 
 YOU'LL EVER BE YOUNG TO ME, - 76 
 
 DEARER TO ME, 79 
 
 LAMENT OF THE SAILOR'S BRIDE, - 81 
 
 O'ER BEYOND THE SHINING RIVER, 83 
 
 YES, OR NO? 85 
 
 LOVE SCORN* DESPAIR, 87 
 
 ON THE RIVER, - 90 
 
 THE MUSIC OF THE HEART, - 93 
 
 LIFE'S WARP AND WOOF, 95 
 
 THE HEART'S ANGUISH, - tf7
 
 THE CITY OF PLAGUE. 
 
 and nil was black, 
 
 The brows of men, by their despairing light, 
 
 Wore an unearthly aspect, as by fits, 
 
 The flashes fell upon them. Some lay down, 
 
 And hid their eyes, and wept; and some did rest 
 
 Their chins upoia their clenched hands, and smiled^ 
 
 And others hurried to and fro, and fed 
 
 The funeral pile with fuel, and looked up, 
 
 With mad disquietude, on the dull sky, 
 
 The pall of a past world: and then again 
 
 With curses, cast them down upon the dust, 
 
 And gnashed their teeth, and howled. 
 
 BYRON. 
 
 In a valley where the season 
 
 Seemed forever summer time, 
 And the bright and golden distance 
 
 Showed a gorgeous tropic clime, 
 Where a river downward rippling, 
 
 Witji its murmur soft and low, 
 Filled the air with mellow music, 
 
 While the zephers to and fro. 
 Wafted waves of sound melodeous, 
 
 As the wavelets rose and fell, 
 O 'er the silver corded beaches, 
 
 Gemmed with pebble and with shell
 
 10 
 
 llose a city in that valley, 
 
 Where from dawn till dewy 
 From the rising to the setting, 
 
 Did the sun his glory weave ; 
 Ne'er was fairer city builded 
 
 Than that city of the vale, 
 Nestling to the grassy bordeis 
 
 Where the river did assail, 
 Back unto the graded terrace 
 
 Which the mountains overhung, 
 Where the echoes, once awakened, 
 
 With a thousand voices rung. 
 
 Dwelt there in that city beauteous, 
 
 Mortals of a haughty mien, 
 Proud of birth and grand possessions, 
 
 Worldly wise and worldly vain ; 
 With the outer world no converse 
 
 Would these haughty mortals bold, 
 Counted they themselves more worthy, 
 
 Deigning not to be controlled ; 
 Deeming that themselves, self governed, 
 
 Won such glory and renown, 
 As should sound through all the ages 
 
 Through all time forever down.
 
 11 
 
 And they built around tbeir city, 
 
 On the East, and North and West, 
 From the sun's bright place of rising, 
 
 Westward, to his place of rest, 
 Only on the South their city 
 
 Had no wall upbuilded high. 
 There the river onward gliding 
 
 Gently flowed forever by ; 
 And its waters, pure, pellucid, 
 
 Like some victor's burnished shield, 
 All the city in its brightness, 
 
 As a mirror grand revealed. 
 
 And two gates of gorgeous splendor, 
 
 Brazen built and grand of strength, 
 At the East and West they builded 
 
 Thus to mark the city's length, 
 Then they gathered all in council 
 
 A-id gave forth this one decree ; 
 That from other lands and rulers 
 
 They should be forever free ; 
 Seeking succor from no nation, 
 
 Giving help unto no land, 
 Keeping free and in their freedom 
 
 They forevermore should st
 
 On the hillsides sheep they pastured,, 
 
 In the valley grain they grew, 
 And their mills were ever driven 
 
 By the river running through ; 
 Rich they grew, and growing richer 
 
 They forgot their rightful God, 
 Counted every call to duty 
 
 As a seeming tyrant's rod, 
 And they grew to be ungodly, 
 
 Called Religion, " Idle tale :" 
 Till Charity, at last forgotten, 
 
 Was unknown within the vale, 
 
 Yet, withal, they seemed to prosper 
 
 More than other cities round, 
 For within their walls of splendor r 
 
 Plenty, only, could be found ; 
 While a Famine came- and wasted 
 
 All the cities lying near, 
 Yet their granaries were bursting 
 
 With the surplus of the year, 
 And they laughed to scorn the wretches 
 
 Who without eacli mighty gate, 
 Cried for bread to ease their hunger,, 
 
 Begging piteous,, ear' and late.
 
 Night and morning, from the dawning 
 
 To the waning of the light, 
 From the deep'ning of the shadowsj 
 
 Through the watches of the night, 
 Morn and even, noon and midnight, 
 
 Round that city in the vale, 
 From a thousand starving mortals 
 
 Came that ceaseless piteous wail : 
 ' Give us bread !" " Oh from the fulness 
 
 Which the Lord hath given you, 
 Grant a rnite to fellow mortals 
 
 Let us not thus vainly sue." 
 
 But within that gorgeous city, 
 
 On the ear and to the eye, 
 All unnoticed stood the wretches, 
 
 All unheeded fell their cry ; 
 As in light of lavish splendor 
 
 Rolled the careless, heartless throng, 
 WhiJe the hand ot Heaven, unmindful, 
 
 Seemed to be withheld too long ; 
 And as louder and more mournful 
 
 On each new succeeding morn 
 Grew the wail without the city, 
 
 Deep and deeper grew their scorn*
 
 14 
 
 And the gates were closed and guarded. 
 
 While along the river side, 
 There their sentinels were posted, 
 
 So that every one who tried 
 For an entrance to the city 
 
 Might be caught and quick expelled, 
 Thus the throng of starving creatures 
 
 In their misery vere held 
 From the fortune favored mortals 
 
 All aloof, while in their pride, 
 All the woes ot those around them 
 
 They did mock at and deride, 
 
 But a Prophet rose among them, 
 
 One, a man of heart and age, 
 Who through all the streets lamented 
 
 Near approaching heaven's rage; 
 " O ye dwellers in this city 
 
 Fairer than ere erst was known, 
 Think ye not that cries and prayers 
 
 lieacheth up to Heaven's throne ? 
 And that multitude of wailers, 
 
 Who without your city walls, 
 Cry for bread, and retribution, 
 
 Shall iu vain repeat their calls? "
 
 " Thrust him out ! " a thousand voices 
 
 Cry in mingled rage and scorn, 
 " Let his wailings up to heaven. 
 
 With the other wails Ve borne. " 
 And without those gates of beauty, 
 
 He was quickly seized and thrust, 
 And no friend advanced to save him, 
 
 Nor was offered him a crust : 
 And he cried, while yet the hinges 
 
 Creaked the closing of the gate, 
 " Curst above all cursed cities, 
 
 Ye but hasten on your fate, " 
 
 And without that guarded city, 
 
 Cruel Hunger, gaunt ana lean, 
 Traced his lines upotl each feature, 
 
 In each shrunken form was seen. 
 Friend from friend, would turn in anguish, 
 
 Seeking each his pain to hide, 
 Till the darkness hid each feature, 
 
 Then they sat down side by side. 
 Side by side, and hand hand clasping, 
 
 Through the long, lone hours of night 
 Till the shadows woke and vanished, 
 
 At the call of morning light.
 
 16 
 
 But from 'niong each group of watchers, 
 
 At the waking of one morn, 
 Sadder, deeper and more mournful, 
 
 Were the wails of anguish borne. 
 All before their guest was hunger, 
 
 Only hunger and no more, 
 But another now they numbered, 
 
 Which they had not known before ; 
 Death had spread his poisoned pinions, 
 
 And where friends at eve had lain, 
 Lay but corses, thin and shrunken, 
 
 That should never wake again. 
 
 And the sound of lamentation 
 
 Rose upon the morning air, 
 And their hunger seemed forgotten 
 
 While beside their loved ones there, 
 Knelt the living, weeping, wailing. 
 
 And the air, their cries did fill, 
 Till at evening round the corses, 
 
 Sat the living, sad and still. 
 For they knew not ere the morning, 
 
 With Deatirs shadows overhead, 
 Who of them would leave the living, 
 
 Who of them would watch the dead.
 
 IT 
 
 And, as morning light appearing 
 
 Kaised the vail of gloomy night, 
 Saw the watchers, other loved ones 
 
 Had departed with the night; 
 Thus continuing, each morning 
 
 Saw the mourners fewer grown, 
 "While the valley with the mourned for 
 
 Was each morn more thickly strewn, 
 And the air became more loathsome, 
 
 More and more as days wore on, 
 For the corses all unburied 
 
 Lay beneath the burning sun. 
 
 ' Neath the sun they lay and blackened, 
 
 And each mourner, hunger's slave, 
 Only mourned the more because he 
 
 Had not strength to dig a grave ; 
 Thus they lay, no strength, no motion, 
 
 Lying, dying, day by day, 
 While the corses still increasing 
 
 'ISfeath the sun did more decay; 
 Till at length the air becoming 
 
 Charged as with a mist of death, 
 All remaining soon were stricken, 
 
 Breathing death with every breath.
 
 18 
 
 Till a murmur ran among them 
 
 Indistinct at first and vague, 
 Then a cry, wild, deep and mournful r 
 
 "We are doomed it is the Plague! 
 Then arose the Prophet trembling, 
 
 As his limbs beneath him fail, 
 And his bony finger pointing 
 
 T'ward the City of the vale, 
 Thus he cried: "Oh, City scornful ! 
 
 God with you doth now engage; 
 Thou art doomed, and I, your victim, 
 
 Shall be bearer of his rage !" 
 
 "Up !" he cried to those around him, 
 
 "Up ! I give you God's command," 
 "Fear ye not your strength shall fail you 
 
 When upheld by his strong hand; 
 Look upon yon gorgeous City, 
 
 Bright above it are the skies; 
 Dwell therein the proud, hard hearted, 
 
 "Who have heeded not your cries; 
 But I tell and tell you truly, 
 
 All their grandeur shall decline, 
 We are instruments of justice, 
 
 Yengeance saith the Lord is mine !"
 
 19 
 
 " See yon gate of strength upbuilded, 
 
 Doubly guarded night and day ; 
 See yon river grandly flowing, 
 
 There their sentries guard the way ; 
 See yon beetling cliffs overhanging 
 
 On the north the city's rear ; 
 Guarded thus , how proud their bearing, 
 
 Thinking they have nought to fear ; 
 But they heed not in their folly 
 
 That a road doth open lie 
 To the heart of their fair city 
 
 Where who meeteth us shall die," 
 
 "Up yon steep and jagged mountain, 
 
 Down from thence a winding path, 
 Once that road were traveled, all their 
 
 Power cannot stay God's wrath ; 
 In our veins the dreaded Plague tide 
 
 Courses wilder every Hour, 
 And when once we gain their city 
 
 Futile all their boasted power ; 
 For we carry death within us, 
 
 Every breath exhaled shall bear 
 Death and mourning to each hearthstone, 
 
 Plague and horror in the air.
 
 20 
 
 Though Plague stricken, two arising, 
 
 With the Prophet upward go ; 
 Though their breath comes faint and lainter, 
 
 And their steps are weak and slow ; 
 Up the rugged mountain scaling. 
 
 Upward, westward till they stand 
 Just above that fated city, 
 
 In th> sunlight bright and grand ; 
 And the waves of mellow sunshine 
 
 Gild each casement with their glow, 
 Bathing in a golden glory 
 
 All the guarded wealth below. 
 
 Spake then one of the Plague stricken : 
 
 ' On such beauty and such wealth. 
 On this city where they know not 
 
 But of happiness and health. 
 Is it right that we should bring them, 
 
 Unsuspecting every ill, 
 Death, disease and dire destruction, 
 
 Every home with woe to fill ? 
 Think ye, were it not far better 
 
 That this mission we forego ? 
 ' Tis but death if here we linger ; 
 
 ' Twill be death as well below."
 
 2J 
 
 " Oh ! ye vacillating mortal, 
 
 Oh ! ye form with puerile heart, 
 Dost thou dare to chide Jehovah? 
 
 In His vengeance to take part 
 Wouldst thou dare refuse ? What melting 
 
 Of their hearts was there for thee? 
 Wherefore, thus their scorn forgiving, 
 
 Shouldst thou from thy duty flee ? 
 Onward 1 downward ! death ! destruction ! 
 
 Bearing as we pass along, 
 Thus repaying all their scoriing, 
 
 Thus returning all the wrong !" 
 
 Then adown that mountain pathway. 
 
 Slowly with a trembling pace, 
 Through the streets of wealth and grandeur 
 
 Till they gained the Market Place; 
 And as onward, never turning, 
 
 They their weary way pursue, 
 Halt the 'habitants in wonder, 
 
 Asking each if these they knew ? 
 But to none of all that city 
 
 Are the dying strangers known, 
 As they press to end their journey, 
 
 While each step brings forth a groan.
 
 " Ho, ye strangers to the city ! 
 
 Whence, and wherefore are ye come ?" 
 *' Do ye come from up the valley ?" 
 
 " Wherefore silent ? Are ye dumb ? 
 But the strangers never heeding, 
 
 Still unanswering, wend their way ; 
 To the right or left not turning, 
 
 Heeding not what passers say ; 
 " Hold 1" cried one, " I know their leader, 
 
 'Tis the Prophet who arose, 
 Dooming us to beggars' curses 
 
 If we heeded not their woes." 
 
 " Are the gates not closely guarded ? 
 
 And the river side as well ? 
 How then, could they gain the city 
 
 Here their cries of woe to swell ?" 
 *' See ! they reach the city's centre, 
 
 There they halt and take their stand, 
 Fearful trio, thin and shrunken, 
 
 Grasps each bloodless hand a hand," 
 " Oh ye wand'rers lean and lanken 
 
 Have ye come from 'mongthe dead?" 
 " List ! ye scorners, cease your scoffing, 
 
 We are beggars come for bread !"
 
 23 
 
 "What? beggars in our city? 
 
 Beggars from the vale, 
 "Where daily, without ceasing 
 
 They tire us with their wail ?" 
 " Was't o'er our walls so mighty, 
 
 Or through our gates so strong, 
 Or by the river's border 
 
 Ye made your way along ?" 
 Neither walls nor gates nor river 
 
 Our entrance here hath shared, 
 We entered here at God's command, 
 
 The way by God prepared." 
 
 Then through the streets and by-ways 
 
 These words all do proclaim, 
 " Lo ! in our Mart stand beggars 
 
 To mock us with their shame !" 
 And the rich and lordly masters 
 
 Of the city, passing by, 
 Laugh in scorn and shun the w T retches 
 
 And taunt them while they cry 
 " Oh ! Prophet; in your hunger, 
 
 Where now your boasted power? 
 Where now the God you vaunted 
 
 Could crush us in an hour ?"
 
 Thus they taunt with scorn and laughter, 
 
 While the beggars 011 the pave, 
 Feel the stones their dying couches, 
 
 The city's fate their grave ; 
 See the mighty of the city 
 
 Unheeding pass them by, 
 "While within great plenty's circle 
 
 They lay them down to die ; 
 See the daughter of a million 
 
 Gather closer up her dress, 
 Lest the garment touch the pavement 
 
 "Which a beggar's foot doth press. 
 
 Thus the day at last is ended, 
 
 The night wears on apace, 
 And morning finds them standing 
 
 Still within the Market Place. 
 " "What ! ho ! ye guards on duty ! 
 
 Who keep the city's gates, 
 Thrust forth these noisome beggars, 
 
 Their fate without awaits ; 
 Behold those vultures circling 
 
 O'er the valley far away, 
 Thrust out this making carrion 
 
 And give the birds their prey !"
 
 -25 
 
 ** Thrust out this making carrion? 
 
 Yea, thrust it out who will ; 
 Those vultures o'er the valley 
 
 Will wait yet longer still." 
 Thus spoke the Prophet, while the fire 
 
 Of vengeance in his eye, 
 Filled those with dread who round him stood 
 
 To see him sink and die. 
 And thus again he spoke to them;: 
 
 " Oh ! mortals, cease to scorn, 
 A weight of woe is on you such 
 
 As ne'er before was borne?" 
 
 "God blessed and gave this city 
 
 A plenty over all, 
 Yet when he asked a tithing 
 
 Ye heeded not his call; 
 "Without your gates, his people 
 
 Lie dying day by day, 
 What penitence of empty words^ 
 
 Can wipe this sin away ? 
 But penitence ye have not known, 
 
 Nor do ye know it yet; 
 The daily woe around you has 
 
 Your hearts but harder set"
 
 "Then hear the doom Jehovah sendsi 
 
 For all your" taunts and scorn, 
 Your city of its glory shall 
 
 Forever more be shorn ; 
 1 spoke to you the warning words, 
 
 Ye heeded not my cry. 
 But with the ones for whom I plead 
 
 Ye thrust me out to die; 
 And now God sends the words of doom 
 
 By him who warning gave, 
 This city was my cradle, and 
 
 Her dust shall be my grave !" 
 
 "Your piles of monumental wealth, 
 
 Your mansions old and new, 
 Whose burnished casements in the sun 
 
 Beam brightly to the view, 
 The gates you set to guard your wealth, 
 
 Your walls as grand and high. 
 Shall be your curse, for from the vale 
 
 Through them you may not fly; 
 The gates by power than yours more great 
 
 Are barred, not oped shall be; 
 The walls shall be as glass to those 
 
 Who by their way would flee."
 
 27 
 
 "The river, where your sentries' tread 
 
 Is echoed night and day, 
 Shall be to you a boiling lake 
 
 To bar your outward way; 
 The mountain wall which God hath set 
 
 To guard your city's rear 
 Shall fill your hearts with deepest dread, 
 
 And whelm your souls with fear ; 
 Those mighty crags by time unmoved 
 
 Your fleeing steps assail, 
 And from yon frowning brow shall sweep 
 
 A tide of molten hail," 
 
 " Ye think my words are idle, all, 
 
 And vain as empty air, 
 Then learn that every word is truth, 
 
 God's vengeance I but share ; 
 Behold these wretches at my feet, 
 
 Ye think they lie asleep, 
 Yea, so they do, but not on earth 
 
 Shall end repose so deep ; 
 They sleep in death ; oh, endless sleep ! 
 
 No power death's tide can stem ; 
 Come gaze on death, and learn to die, 
 
 Ye soon shall sleep with them."
 
 "See how each feature hatli been racked 
 
 "With throes of agony, 
 Come, look> for in your veins doth roll 
 
 The curse which here you see ; 
 See how they blacken in the sun, 
 
 Behold the fever here, 
 Within my veins the doom-tide runs,. 
 
 Ye start ? 'Tis late for fear ! 
 " Then know." and here his voice sank low. 
 
 (i No more my words be vague ; 
 My hour hath come, I leave with you r 
 
 Mj curse, the Eastern Plague !" 
 
 Sank his voice down to a whisper. 
 
 And his eyes grew glassy dim, 
 And, upon the pave down sinking, 
 
 Death came welcome unto him ; 
 Then throughout the throng around hint 
 
 Ran a thrill of mortal fear, 
 Face with dread on each face gazing r 
 
 Saw the curse imprinted there ; 
 Each from each in horror turning 
 
 Seeks his home in haste to gain ; 
 All too slow their quickened footsteps,. 
 
 Late their fear, their haste in vain.
 
 As the course of streams in spring time 
 
 Are increased by melting snow, 
 So the tide of life in fever 
 
 Through the veins doth swifter flow; 
 As the streams already swollen, 
 
 By new streams are further swelled, 
 So the blood already fevered 
 
 By the Plague is more impelled; 
 Swift and wild, and wilder, swifter, 
 
 More increasing every hour, 
 Till the heart at last consuming 
 
 Sinks beneath the lava power. 
 
 Thus within that guarded city, 
 
 Ran the life tide faster now, 
 While the fever gaining fullness 
 
 Stamped its impress on each brow; 
 Doors were barred and casements bolted, 
 
 Every street deserted, drear. 
 While the air seemed all down laden 
 
 With a weight of deadly fear; 
 While within each habitation 
 
 Echoed every wall the cry, 
 "Tis the hand of retribution, 
 
 We are smitten, and we die!"
 
 80 
 
 And when night with sable mantle 
 
 Shrouds the city with her gloom, 
 Every household seems enfolded 
 
 By a pall of ray less doom; 
 Every light burns dim and dismal, 
 
 Struggling with the vaprous air, 
 Oh, for morning ! oh, for sunlight ! 
 
 Every heart repeats the prayer; 
 Sunken eyes on loved ones gazing 
 
 Meets but with a wilder stare, 
 Burning hands press fevered foreheads, 
 
 Horror, horror every where ! 
 
 Night dies ! oh, death of dreary stillness ! 
 
 Morn wakes ! oh, birth of darkness born ! 
 Better for night's death eternal, 
 
 Than the birth of such a morn; 
 Slowly, as if loath, the darkness 
 
 From the coast of morning rolls. 
 But no sunbeams with their brightness 
 
 Chase the phantoms from the souls; 
 Dull the sky, a leaden dullness, 
 
 Copper tinted here and there, 
 As. at sea, a fire far distant, 
 
 Horror, horror everywhere !
 
 31 
 
 O'er the valley to the Eastward 
 
 Rolls the mist of morn away; 
 O'er the valley to the Westward 
 
 Wakes the morn to beauteous day; 
 On the mountain top appearing 
 
 Sport the sunbeams bright and clear; 
 O'er the plain beyond the rivet 
 
 Breaks the day without a tear; 
 Only o'er that fated city 
 
 Are the shadows overthrown, 
 All around, the day is brightness, 
 
 Horror, horror there alone 1 
 
 Slowly downward from the mountain, 
 
 Settling like H funeral pall, 
 Rolls a cloud of noisome vapor. 
 
 Gathering dampness over all; 
 From the side of every mansion. 
 
 From each stone in every wall, 
 As if born of silent weeping, 
 
 Slow the vaprous teardrops fall; 
 And the air grows close and stifling, 
 
 And each casement open thrown, 
 Lets the vaprous horror enter, 
 
 Horror, horror there alone*
 
 Now a wail of deepest anguish 
 
 To each ear the dampness bears, 
 Death hath made his formal entry 
 
 And the first his mantle wears; 
 Toll the bells ! the first hath answered 
 
 To the Prophet's dying curse; 
 Dig the grave ! no time for mourning I 
 
 Haste and call the burial hearse; 
 Toll again ! another answers ! 
 
 Ere its echoes die away, 
 Still another, and another, 
 
 Ceaseless tolling all the day. 
 
 Now once more the darkness falli-ig 
 
 Ends the day, but not its woes, 
 -Sombre arch 1 Unbroken darkness ! 
 
 No respite and no repose. 
 Death holds now unhindered revel, 
 
 Soft his footsteps tread the gloom; 
 While his fingers touch the toreheads 
 
 And his victims feel their doom; 
 'On the morrow, cease the tolling, 
 
 'Tis a vain and useless task, 
 Death hath need of no revealing, 
 
 He hath lain aside his mask.
 
 'Tween the darkness of the midnight 
 
 And the gloom of middle day, 
 Scarce they judge, for but a twilight 
 
 Bears the awful arch away ; 
 But through every street and by way 
 
 Falls the bearers' ominous tread, 
 While o'er all the mighty wailing 
 
 Sounds the cry, " Bring forth your dead 1" 
 Oh the depth of untold horror 
 
 In that dread appalling sound, 
 Is there no escape, no succor ? 
 
 Can there no release be found? 
 
 Fire ! build fires throughout the city ! 
 
 Where'er street crosses street, 
 There let the bright red fire flame 
 
 The Death Plague current meet ! 
 liaise high the sparkling altars, 
 
 Nor distance long between, 
 Till in a fire gilt border 
 
 .Returning life is seen ; 
 Till from our beauteous city 
 
 The death cloud rolls away, 
 And from our night of horror 
 
 Breaks forth a brighter day.
 
 34 
 
 Then to light the flames the} hasten, 
 
 That the Fire Fiend, who in wrath 
 Knows no master should in triumph 
 
 Sweep the Plague Fiend from their path; 
 And as up the flames ascending 
 
 Bears the vaprous cloud away, 
 They shout deliverance and triumph 
 
 From and o'er the Plague Fiend's sway ; 
 And still in their mad excitement 
 
 Raise the altars higher still, 
 Till a mighty flame of triumph 
 
 Doth the whole great city till. 
 
 But their triumph turns to sorrow 
 
 And their joy soon turns to woe, 
 For the power they call to save them 
 
 Doth now no master know ; 
 And the bright flames sweeping higher 
 
 Light the mansions dull and grey 
 And the Fire Fiend in his hunger, 
 
 Claims the city as his prey, 
 And the 'habitants in anguish 
 
 This new ruin doth foresee, 
 And from out their fire doomed city 
 
 They quickly turn to flee.
 
 To the gate they wildly hasten, 
 
 But the bars are doubly sure, 
 They have melted in their sockets, 
 
 Are immovably secure. 
 Then they bring their scaling ladders, 
 
 O'er the walls to make their way, 
 But their efforts all are futile, 
 
 For the Fire Fiend holdeth sway ; 
 O'er those walls of seamless cement 
 
 He hath caused the flame to pass, 
 And where erst had stood their ladders 
 
 Is a front of glist'ning glass. 
 
 Then they haste to gain the river, 
 
 But from it they quick recoil; 
 For the flame hath lapped its border, 
 
 And its waters seethe and boil ; 
 But one other way remaineth 
 
 To escape the fervent tide, 
 Ere the red tongued tyrant grasp them, 
 
 Up the steep set mountain side ; 
 But the flame sweeps on before them, 
 
 Bearing terror to their souls, 
 For ad own the heated mountain, 
 
 Now the loosened lava rolls.
 
 And the flame they seek to flee from, 
 
 Licks the ground their feet doth tread, 
 And the fiend their hands did summon, 
 
 Their bodies now hath fed ; 
 Still the flames swept ever onward, 
 
 Surging all that night and day, 
 While beyond that city's borders 
 
 Roll the burning clouds away ; 
 Till where hung the dark Plague shadow 
 
 Like a pall the day before. 
 Hangs the sun a seeming blood spot, 
 
 In a field of deeper gore. 
 
 And every form and substance 
 
 Crumbled 'neath the fiery wave, 
 Till the dust of that fair city 
 
 "Was in truth the Prophet's grave, 
 For that city in its ashes 
 
 Had forever gone to rest. 
 Ere the sun in gory brilliance 
 
 Sank adown the bleeding west. 
 MORAL. Tis a tale of which the moral 
 
 Forever more should live : 
 If God unto 2/aw.hath, given,. . 
 
 'Tis but meet^that you should give.
 
 39 
 
 THE LAND BEYOND THE TIDE. 
 
 I am thinking, sadly thinking 
 Of life's joyous happy morn ; 
 Ere my heart lay mangled, bleeding, 
 By its sorrows rudely torn ; 
 And my spirit sadly turning 
 To those happy days of yore, 
 Reads in anguish on their pages, 
 Joy on earth, ah, nevermore ! 
 And the shadows falling darkly, 
 That sweet promise seems to hide, 
 Of a happy home immortal 
 In the land beyond the tide. 
 
 I am dreaming of the maiden 
 With her eyes so deeply blue, 
 Looking out a faithful index 
 Of the heart within so true, ' 
 Thinking* of her heav'nly beauty, 
 And her wealth of tresses bright,
 
 40 
 
 She a picture of an angel; 
 In a frame of living light; 
 And her form, as in a halo 
 Seeming evermore to glide. 
 Like an angel sent on mission 
 From the land beyond the tide. 
 
 I am thinking of the sunshine 
 "Which like glory filled my heart, 
 And the happiness unbounded 
 Seeming of myself a part, 
 When the blessed, sweet assurance 
 Was by her unto me given, 
 Over power of death to triumph, 
 Mine on earth, and mine in heaven ; 
 And my spirit backward turning 
 Sees us sitting side by side, 
 As we sat, and sang together, 
 Of the land beyond the tide. 
 
 Never thought I then of sorrow, 
 Never heart more light and free, 
 All was heav'n to me on earth then. 
 All on earth was hdav'n to me;
 
 41 
 
 She was mine, then, and mine only, 
 And I deemed her all my own, 
 Oh, sweet dream ! how vain, delusive, 
 And the waking, oh how lone ! 
 Cruel death my claim ignoring 
 Sought and claimed her as his bride, 
 And an angel came and bore her 
 To the land beyond the tide. 
 
 Then a darkness fell upon me, 
 All of love was lost to me; 
 And I sank me deeper, deeper, 
 In a sea of agony; 
 
 And my soul surcharged with sorrow 
 Strove the dreamlike bands to break, 
 But alas ! the dream was real, 
 And from it I ne'er shall wake 
 Till I reach my home immortal 
 On the far off thither side, 
 And a spirit claim nr) angel 
 In the land beyond the tide, 
 
 But, between my spirit's haven
 
 And its present chafing cell, 
 Runs forever down a river 
 With a mighty roll and swell, 
 And my spirit gazing wistful, 
 Up from out its prison bars, 
 Sees the home it longs to enter 
 Just beyond the twinkling stars;. 
 And, beyond that mighty river 
 Rolling down so dark and wide,. 
 Faintly shines the terraced glory 
 Of the land beyond the tide. 
 
 And, beyond the distant outline 
 Of that holy mystic shore, 
 Rises up the jeweled city 
 Which shall stand forevermore ! 
 And the walls of purest jasper, 
 Shining 'neath a setless sun, 
 Tell in glowing words immortal 
 Of a glory just begun; 
 And, my spirit wild, rebellious, 
 Scarce its destined time can bide, 
 Longing so to see the glory 
 Of the land beyond the tide.
 
 But, I feel that soon the angel 
 Will return to set me free, 
 And I'll journey o'er that river 
 To the home prepared for me; 
 Though the waves forever surging 
 Sweep tumultuous o'er my soul, 
 They shall riot prevail against me 
 As they madly seethe and roll; 
 For I know that when I'm sinking. 
 I shall see my spirit's bride, 
 Reaching down Jier hand to guide me 
 To the land beyond the tide.
 
 44 
 
 DEATH OF THE OLD YE AK AND BIRTH 
 OF THE NEW. 
 
 Mourn ! mourn ! a friend is dead: 
 
 The Old Year is no more; 
 Last night his weary spirit fled 
 
 Beyond Time's mystic shore. 
 
 We mind the hour when he was born, 
 
 A laughing, joyous child; 
 He burst upon us at his birth, 
 
 With spirits light and wild. 
 
 We watched his tender, tottering steps 
 
 Adown the glade of time, 
 Till birds in leafy, springtime bowers, 
 
 Their notes of praise did cl ime. 
 
 We watched his firmer youthful steps 
 Still strong and stronger grow; 
 
 Until we saw his manhood's crown 
 'Neath sun of summer glow.
 
 45 
 
 We watched his onward conquering march, 
 
 As time by him was slain; 
 But woke, too soon, alas ! to note 
 
 His manhood on the wane. ^ 
 
 He watched him tottering on the verge; 
 
 Then saw him downward turn 
 To lay beside his kindred dead 
 
 His ashes in the urn. 
 
 We watched him down the silv'rv tide; 
 
 His course was nearly run; 
 His lab'ring breath came faint and low, 
 
 His weary task was done. 
 
 We watched beside his dying bed 
 As sombre death came down; 
 
 We closed his eyes and turned away 
 To feel a friend had gone. 
 
 There, in the tomb of ages'dead, 
 He slept this Sabbath morn ! 
 
 Yet, from his ashes, Phoenix like, 
 The glad New Year was born !
 
 46 
 
 He comes to us with smiling face, 
 With mirth arid laughter gay; 
 
 Then let us hearty welcome give 
 On this his natal day. 
 
 The Old Year is dead ! we mourn ! 
 
 We drop the kindred tear; 
 Yet, shall we mourn him still, and weep, 
 
 And linger at his bier ? 
 
 
 Old friends must die ! yet new ones come 
 
 E'en ere we say farewell; 
 The same bells chime the ]STew Year's birth, 
 
 That toll the Old Year's knell. 
 
 Then cast all draary thoughts aside, 
 
 Begin with life anew; 
 What if our life a dark side has ? 
 
 It has a bright one too ! ' 
 
 Then hand in hand, we'll forward press, 
 
 All care we'll throw away, 
 And cheerful start with life anew 
 
 This joyous JSTew ISTew Year's Day! 
 JAJSTUAKY IST, 1871.
 
 47 
 
 WILL YOU MEET ME UP IN HEAVEN", 
 MOTHER DEAR? 
 
 Come and sit beside me mother, 
 Let me hold your hand in mine, 
 Move your chair a little nearer, 
 So the setting sun may shine 
 On the hand which I am holding, 
 As it falls in through the door, 
 For within the golden sunshine] 
 I shall never see you more; 
 And I want to ask you. mother; 
 For I'm going fai from here, 
 Tell me truly will you meet me 
 Up in heave-i mother dear ? 
 
 Will you meet me up in heav'n, mother dear ? 
 Mother dear ! 
 
 Will you meet me up in heav'n, mother dear ? 
 Where the angels are singing, 
 And the sweet notes are ringing, 
 
 Will you meet me up in heav'n, mother dear ? 
 
 Raise me up a little higher 
 For the sun is setting fast.
 
 48 
 
 And I want to see this sunset, 
 For I know it is the last 
 We shall ever see together, 
 For those clouds within the west, 
 Reaching far to north and eastward 
 In their golden glory dressed, 
 Hide the pearly gates of heaven 
 Where the angels all have met, 
 That are coming down to meet me 
 When the golden sun has set; 
 
 As they'll come to you from heaven, 
 Mother dear ! Mother dear ! 
 
 If you'll meet me up in heav'n, mother dear ? 
 Where the angels are singing, 
 And the sweet notes are ringing, 
 
 Will you meet me up in heav'n, mother dear ? 
 
 See ! the gates are moving inward, 
 Now they're standing open wide; 
 I can see the crystal river 
 And the land the other side; 
 And away beyond the hillside 
 Far leeyond the other shore, 
 In a blaze of shining glory 
 Trembles heaven's inner door;
 
 Do not hold me, dearest mother, 
 
 Do not fear that I shall fall, 
 
 For the angels now are with me, 
 
 And I hear my Savior call; 
 And I'm going up to heaven, mother dear ! 
 
 Mother dear ! 
 There to wait for you in heaven, Mother dear ! 
 
 Where the angels are singing, 
 
 And the sweet notes are ringing, 
 Come aud meet me up in heaven, mother dear !
 
 50 
 
 OH WHERE} HAVE THE ROSES ALI, 
 GONE? 
 
 I passed by the cottage today, Jennie, 
 
 So cherished in inern'ries of you, 
 And gazed on the vine covered porch, Jennie,. 
 
 Where each side the sweet roses grew; 
 But the roses are faded and gone, Jennie, 
 
 The cottage deserted and lone, 
 Oil ! why has it changed so since then, Jennie? 
 
 Oh ! where have the roses all gone? 
 
 fcr 
 
 In the days fondly cherisecl by me, Jennie, 
 
 Your cheeks with the roses wexe red, 
 From the sparkle which dwelt in your eye, 
 Jennie, 
 
 All sorrow and sadness had fled; 
 But scarce knowing I passed you to-day Jennie, 
 
 Your cheeks were so pale, and so wan, 
 Oh ! why have they changed, so since then 
 Jennie ? 
 
 Oh ! where have the roses all gone? 
 
 ^. wand'rer I've been since the eve, Jennie, 
 ~\f e said our farewell at the gate,
 
 51 
 
 feut ofte"n my heart has gone 1 tack, Jennie* 
 To mourn o'er your sad, sad too late! 
 
 But my wanderings are over at last, Jennie^ 
 I'm returning heartbroken and lone, 
 
 And, I sorrow to think I have come, Jennie, 
 To find that the roses are gone. 
 
 In reverie often I sit, Jennie, 
 
 While memory, faithful and true 
 Bears me back to the days which are goile 
 Jennie, 
 
 When thus I sat dreaming with yon; 
 When with roses the pathway of life, Jennie, 
 
 By fortune was lavishly strewn, 
 And I only awake from those dreams, Jennie, 
 
 To find that the roses are^gone. 
 
 Have the roses ot life proved to yoii, Jeririie, 
 
 As likely to fade and decay 2 
 Has the view of the future yon dre'w, Jennie, 
 
 Proved shadow and faded away ? 
 My heart goes back to that time, Jennie, 
 
 Through the years that swiftly have flowrij 
 And, I cry when I think ot those days, Jennie* 
 
 Oh 1 where have the roses all gone ?
 
 52 
 
 THE NEW LOYE. 
 
 I have loved and been forsaken, 
 
 I have felt my heart awaken, 
 Waken, from its dream of fancied love and bliss; 
 
 Now, a love my life is filling, 
 
 All my soul with rapture thrilling. 
 For my former love was nothing unto this. 
 
 She I love, is free from guile, 
 And her artless, winning smile 
 
 Fills me with a love, to me before unknown; 
 And I often sit and ponder 
 On my life, and sadly wonder, 
 
 Shall I ever call this darling one my own ? 
 
 Though I know she's not a fairy, 
 
 Softly tripping, light and airy, 
 Like Camilla, lightly skimming o'er the sea, 
 
 Though I know she's not a JUNO, 
 
 NOK a HEBE, yet, I do know, 
 She's the fairest of earth's daughters unto me.
 
 Though the Nightingale when singing, 
 
 Fills the morn with sweet notes ringing, 
 Sounding through the summer air so lightly clear; 
 
 Yet his song so sweetly trilled, 
 
 Cannot move my heart once filled 
 "With a melody to me more sweet and dear. 
 
 In her eyes, the love-light beaming, 
 
 Fills me with a nameless dreaming 
 Of the future, and what it may bring to me; 
 
 And a hope is through me thrilling, 
 
 All my soul with rapture filling, 
 But yet, something whispers, it can never be ! 
 
 Oh ! my love should not be hoarded, 
 
 Could there be to rue accorded 
 Such a boon as mortal never won before. 
 
 Though this hope I fondly cherish, 
 
 Yet, I fear that it will perish, 
 And, I think of being friends, and nothing more. 
 
 And my soul in anguish crying, 
 Sees its airv castles lying, 
 Dashed in ruins, by a single, mighty " NO I"
 
 54 
 
 And the rays of sunlight cheering, 
 In life's sky and disappearing, 
 As their place is filled by clouds of life-long wo'e. 
 
 Oft, I find the tears are falling; 
 
 At the thought, so dear, appalling, 
 And I feel already wrecked upon life's shore; 
 
 As the waves which now uphold me, 
 
 Seem upreaching to enfold me. 
 With the words forever sounding Love no more ! 
 
 Yet, take courage he^rt, I pray; 
 
 Ever darkest, 'tis, ere daj; 
 Morning light may break athwart life's sky again' { 
 
 And, my soul may feel the glory 
 
 Of that oft repeated story, 
 Loving and beloved : In truth, and not in vain.
 
 55 
 
 THE CLOSING OF THE DAY, 
 
 Twilight shadows gather round me, 
 
 'Tis the evening of the day, 
 And the thoughts of care which bound me, 
 
 "With the sunlight pass away; 
 And the holy hour of evening, 
 
 Round me casts it's \ritching spell, 
 As the zephyrs, perfume laden, 
 
 Steal apast me through the dell, 
 
 As I watch the twilight fading, 
 
 Watch the stars as they appear, 
 Tfius, me thinks, my life is waning, 
 
 And life's evening drawing near; 
 ,A.nd the holy calm of twilight 
 
 Folcleth o'er life's setting sun,' 
 I murmur not at knowing 
 
 Life's sad, weary day is done,
 
 56 
 
 DOWN THE AISLES OF TIME. 
 
 Down the Aisles of Time with wistful eye 
 
 We gaze on the scenes of the past, 
 And memory glides 'mid the spectral forms 
 
 Of shadow behind us cast; 
 And we sorrow to find so much of life 
 
 Lying wasted along the way, 
 Made up of the moments heedlessly lost 
 
 Ou our journey, day by day. 
 
 Down the Aisles of Time, where our weary feet 
 
 Leave their prints on the way side sand, 
 We are pressing on in the March of Life 
 
 For none may idle stand ; 
 Each moment of time is a precious gem 
 
 We should guard \vhatever the cost: 
 Let us watch the jewels so when life shall end 
 
 We can say that none are lost. 
 
 Down the Aisles of Time outstretching afar 
 To the future, dark, unknown,
 
 -57 
 
 We strive, with OUT eyes, to pierce the vail. 
 
 Which God in mercy lias thrown 
 O'er the trials we'll meet, alas ! full soon, 
 
 For to each is lotted a share, 
 Yet be not dismayed for there cometh to none 
 
 Aught more than his strength to bear, 
 
 DOWR the Aisles of Time still our footsteps tend 
 
 As life's mystery we explore, 
 And ere long we shall reach that farther end, 
 
 Leading out to the golden shore; 
 And soon, the dark vail will be lifted up 
 
 So the light of our home we may see, 
 And soon, we shall pass from the Aisles of Time 
 
 To a grand eternity.
 
 58 
 
 WHY THE BABY DIED. 
 
 Why did the baby die? weep not fond mother! 
 
 E'en though thy treasure be gone from thee; 
 
 Thou knowest not from what pain and sorrow 
 
 Thy babe, an angel now, is free. 
 
 But thou did'st love her so ? Ah, yes, fond heart ! 
 
 E'en with a mother's purest, truest love, 
 
 But though thy love was great, a greater still 
 
 Dwells with the Lord of Heaven above. 
 
 Thy babe was very fair, and sweet, and mild, 
 
 God wanted her to dwell with him, 
 
 To sing hosannas with the angel throng, 
 
 And swell the ranks of cherubim. 
 
 Look round about thee through the earth, and see 
 
 What makes each home so" gladly bright, 
 
 Is it not the babes, who fondly twine around 
 
 Each heart, filling them with happy light? 
 
 God took thy babe to wear an angel crown, 
 
 To make his home more bright and fair; 
 
 God sends the babes to gladden earth, 
 
 Yet, earth, her babes with heaven must share; 
 
 For what kind of heaven would heaven be, 
 
 If there were no little angels there ?
 
 59 
 
 BREAKING THE ENGAGEMENT. 
 
 Dear love ! 'tis just a year, to-day, 
 
 You'll mind, since first I met you, 
 That meeting made me for all time 
 
 All poweiless to forget you; 
 And, as we grew acquainted more. 
 
 More binding seemed your graces, 
 And deep within my heart I found 
 
 Your image leaving traces. 
 
 You mind that eve I told my love, 
 
 I drew you to me nearer, 
 You pressed your lips to mine and said 
 
 None to you could be dearer; 
 That was a happy hour indeed, 
 
 All earth to me was heaven, 
 Oh, precious troth ! from soul to soul, 
 
 By lips, in kisses, given. 
 
 The days on wings of love flew by, 
 Long happiness unbroken,
 
 Tlie bridal day was named by thee r 
 Oh, joy to me when spoken 1 
 
 The day has come; this is the morn>; 
 Alas a day of mourning, 
 
 For oh ! you ask me for release; 
 Thy freedom thus returning. 
 
 Oh, surely, love, you cannot know 
 
 The task you are imposing,. 
 This is the end of all my joy, 
 
 My future, dark, disclosing; 
 But if you'd have me let you go r 
 
 "Why I of course must let you; 
 And if you wish me to forget, 
 
 Why hang you,. Pll forget you!
 
 61 
 
 THE DAWK OF THE NEW LIFE. 
 
 I have waited in the shadow 
 
 While my life tide ebbed away, 
 Gazing through the shrouding darkness 
 
 For the dawning of the day; 
 Long and dark hath been the night tirne r 
 
 Long and dark, aye, dark and dreary; 
 Ever watching for the dawning, 
 
 Sad and lone r and, oh ! so weary ! 
 
 But the night at last is ended. 
 
 And the vigil now is o'er, 
 For the light of life eternal 
 
 Lifts the darkness evermore; 
 And the angel of the Morning 
 
 Back the mystic vail is holding, 
 And my weary eyes grow brighter 
 
 As the new life is unfolding.
 
 62 
 
 FROST PICTURES. 
 
 There are pictures on the window 
 
 Traced in crystal veins; 
 Light frosted on the window, 
 
 Frosted on the panes; 
 And as I gaze upon them, 
 
 Strange forms by me are seen, 
 As if some Fairy spun them 
 
 With waft of silver sheen. 
 
 I see the home of childhood, 
 
 I feel the joys I knew, 
 1 wander in the wildwood 
 
 Where scented wild flowers grew; 
 And through my heart is thrilling 
 
 A gentle, mystic spell, 
 My soul with rapture filling 
 
 Beyond my pow'r to tell. 
 
 I wander in the old lot 
 
 Among the new mown hay,
 
 I gaze into those blue eyes 
 Where lovelight used to play; 
 
 I feel again the sorrow 
 J felt when forced to part, 
 
 Alas ! the long to-morrow 
 That fell upon my heart. 
 
 And tears are coursing down my cheek 
 
 For joys that's lost to me. 
 Joys of which I dare not speak, 
 
 And joys I only see 
 In pictures on the window, . 
 
 Traced in crystal veins, 
 Light frosted on the window, 
 
 Frosted on the panes.
 
 SUNBEAMS. 
 
 Oft the clouds full dark and drear, 
 
 Shroud the summer da} 7 ; 
 Falling like a sombre pall, 
 
 Drives the light away; 
 But the sunshine comes again 
 
 With it's smile of cheer, 
 And the little sunbeams dance 
 
 Earthward light and clear. 
 
 So it is all through our life, 
 
 Sorrow's clouds come down, 
 Shrouding from our hearts the light, 
 
 Bringing many a frown; 
 But, the clouds must sometime break, 
 
 Then perchance will stray, 
 Brighter for the storrn that's past, 
 
 Sunbeams o'er life's way.
 
 65 
 
 "IT IS NEVER TOO LATE TO MEND." 
 
 There's a maxim quite old, but yet it is good, 
 
 And one you should keep in your mind; 
 It will ease you of many a troublesome thought, 
 
 If you but obey it, you'll find; 
 This maxim though old will ever be new, 
 
 And still to the right it will tend; 
 I give it to you as I found it myself, 
 
 "It is never too late to mend 1" 
 
 Ye Bachelors grim whom folly hath led 
 
 To a singular waste of your life, 
 It'll just suit your case I'm sure you'll allow, 
 
 And may help you in getting a wife; 
 "What matter though you have been jilted in youth 
 
 That's a dart Cupid often will send; 
 So while you bewail, keep this maxim in mind, 
 
 "It is never too late to mend !" 
 
 Ye angular Maids of forty or so 
 Pray don't give the battle up yet,
 
 There ne'er was a stocking but mated a shoe, 
 And doubtless, a husband you'll get; 
 
 For beauty is made, and age you can hide, 
 And sense to your smiles you can lend; 
 
 With a scrub, rub and dub, keep this maxim in 
 
 mind, 
 "It is never too late to mend !" 
 
 Ye wretches whose hearts are as hard as the flint 
 
 And crusted all over with sin, 
 Here's a chance to redeem, don't cast it aside 
 
 But to mend all your ways pray begin; 
 There's a chance you'll allow that death may step in 
 
 And bring all 3 our schemes to an end, 
 Bo haste to reform with this maxim in mind, 
 
 "It is never too late to mend !" 
 
 But, not to go over the whole human race 
 
 And string out a mile of advice, 
 I'll speak to you all both aged and young 
 
 And give you rnv mind in a trice; 
 
 O */ .' 
 
 (If you will but listen a moment to me 
 And to take my advice condescend,) 
 
 And this shall be it, pray keep it in mind, 
 "It ia never too late to mend !'
 
 C7 
 
 ONLY A LITTLE BRAID. 
 
 Only a little braid ! 
 Not a golden tress 
 With sunlight beaming o'er 
 To claim a wild caress; 
 Not a siken curl 
 Gracefully falling down, 
 Only a little braid, 
 Plain, and dark, and brown. 
 
 Only a little braid ! 
 Yet, oh, how dear to me ! 
 And oh, what scenes of joy 
 It brings to memory ! 
 Not all the jeweled wealth 
 "Within a kingly crown 
 Could buy my little braid, 
 Plain, and dark, and brown.
 
 68 
 
 A LOVER'S GREATEST DISAPPOINT 
 MENT. 
 
 When ADAM first in Eden 
 
 Began to live in bliss, 
 His happiness was incomplete 
 
 Until he got a Miss; 
 But when fair EVE was given 
 
 His happiness was full, 
 Yet, o'er his loving, simple eyes 
 
 She soon did draw the wool. 
 
 How pleasant must have passed 
 
 The golden hours, when they 
 Among fair Eden's bowers 
 
 Had nought to do but stray; 
 And when at eve they wandered forth 
 
 How happy was their fate, 
 With no old folks to grumble 
 
 If they came in too late. 
 
 No doubt, poor, simple ADAM 
 Was happy as could be f
 
 69 
 
 I know just how he must have felt, 
 
 It once was so with me; 
 But ah ! poor, trusting lover, 
 
 Though centuries have flown, 
 My heart goes back in pity, for 
 
 His case was just my own. 
 
 He went on eve to see her, 
 
 I'm sure 'twas Sunday eve, 
 And asked her out to take a walk, 
 
 Alas ! for him I grieve; 
 For, while he sat beside her 
 
 Engaged in loving talk, 
 Old Nick himself came smiling up 
 
 And took her out to walk. 
 
 With what a jealous anger 
 
 His bosom must have filled, 
 When, to use a homely saying. 
 
 He found his milk was spilled; 
 How heavy must have been his heart 
 
 As homeward he did go, 
 Oh ! ADAM I can pity you, 
 
 For I have felt just so !
 
 70 
 
 And ever since that evening, 
 
 A Sunday eve I'm sure; 
 The deepest woe, the sharpest pang 
 
 That" mortal can endure, 
 Is when he's sitting by his love, 
 
 Engaged in loving talk, 
 To have some other fellow come 
 
 And take her out to walk.
 
 71 
 
 A NOVEMBER STORM. 
 
 Hear how the wild tempest wails, 
 
 And fierce assails 
 The firm-set walls, and loudly calls, 
 As if to alarm 
 
 Us, safe from harm. 
 
 How it madly rushes past, 
 
 Blast, after blast; 
 
 With sigh and moan, and shriek and groan, 
 How the sorrow swells 
 
 It never tells. 
 
 Creep close to the sparkling fire, 
 
 That leaps up higher 
 With wild delight this dismal night, 
 
 As if 'twould engage 
 
 The Storm King's rage.
 
 let the fierce tempest whirl ! 
 
 And madly hurl 
 Its blinding darts at \veaker parts, 
 
 We're housed safely here, 
 We have no tear. 
 
 Wail out your sad sorrow winds, 
 
 That seeks, but finds 
 !No place of rest, no haven blest 
 
 Where you may alight 
 
 This dreary night! 
 
 Pour now on each rattling pane, 
 
 Oh ceaseless rain; 
 While storm imps leap, and revel keep, 
 
 On each shrinking sash 
 
 O 
 
 Your torrents dash ! 
 
 Hark ! was that human cry ? 
 
 A moan, or sigh, 
 Borne on the air in wild despair 
 
 From some sinking form 
 Out in the storm ?
 
 Hush ! it may come again, 
 
 Let silence reign ! 
 
 No! not again, the thought was vain, 
 
 'Twas the tempest's shriek, 
 Or fancy's freak. 
 
 List ! the rain has ceased to pour; 
 
 The winds no more 
 Xheir revels hold, but lie controlled 
 
 By the Master's will, 
 
 That "Peace, be still"
 
 LIFE'S HILL. 
 
 To the hill! to the hill! 
 To the hill together ! 
 Hearts all joyous, light and free 
 In life's Spring-time weather ; 
 Fiery Youth with footsteps light, 
 To the hillside tending, 
 Eager to be on the way, 
 Eager for ascending. 
 
 Up the hill ! Tip the hill ! 
 Up the hill ! together! 
 Manhood, every care surmounts 
 In life's Summer weather; 
 Faith sublime, and steadfast will, 
 In bright rapture blending, 
 Hand in hand, and heart to heart, 
 Each other firm defending. 
 
 Down the hill ! down the hill I 
 Pown the hill together !
 
 75 
 
 Hand in hand to reach the foot, 
 In life's Autumn weather; 
 Weary of the toil and care, 
 ' Neath the years now bending, 
 Dreaming dreams of happy youth, 
 On the way descending. 
 
 From the hill J from the hill ! 
 From the hill together ! 
 Faded now youth's visions bright, 
 In life's Winter weather; 
 Feeble Age with step infirm 
 From the hillside tending, 
 Seeking only in the vale, 
 Best when life is ending.
 
 Tff 
 
 YOU'LL EVEK BE YOUNG TO Mf 
 
 You have asked if I'll ever be true r 
 
 If my heart will never change. 
 If I'll ever be leal to you 
 
 As through the world we range; 
 You say that age will furrow thy brow,- 
 
 That your step will feeble grow, 
 But to me you^ll be just the same as now, 
 
 No change in thee I'll know, 
 
 For you'll ever be young to me, darling, 
 
 You'll ever be young to me; 
 Though age may furrow thy brow, 
 
 And thy step may feeble grow, 
 
 No change in thee I'll know 
 But ever the same as now, 
 
 For you'll ever be young to me, darling,- 
 
 You'll ever be young to me. 
 
 You fear that I will inconstant prove, 
 That my words are false and vairr, 
 That in after years you'll loee my love.
 
 That my heart you'll not retain; 
 iBut though age may turn to silv'ry white 1 
 
 Rippling waves of beauteous gold, 
 And your eyes may lose their lustre bright 
 
 And friends may call you old, 
 
 Still you'll ever be young to me, darling. 
 
 You'll ever be young to me; 
 Though age may furrow thy brow, 
 
 And change the rippling gold, 
 
 To me you'll not grow old 
 But ever the same as now, 
 
 For you'll ever be young to me, darling, 
 
 You'll ever be young to me. 
 
 And as we journey along through life 
 
 Mid the thoughts of "Auld lang Syne,'' 
 We'll lover like clasp our hands my wife, 
 
 On the verge of life's decline; 
 Then shed no tears for the future years, 
 
 You'll ever be young to me, 
 And be not troubled by idle fears, 
 
 I'll ever be true to thee, 
 
 For you'll ever be young to 1 me,darling^
 
 78 
 
 You'll ever be young to me; 
 Though age may furrow thy brow, 
 
 And thy step may feeble grow, 
 
 No change in thee I'll know 
 But ever the same as now, 
 
 For you'll ever be young to me, darling. 
 
 You'll ever be young to me.
 
 79 
 
 DEAEER TO ME. 
 
 Oh ! the sailor may tell of the wealth to be found 
 
 In the depths of the ocean vast, 
 Of the coral and pearl that shine on the shore 
 
 When the storm and tempest are past; 
 But the sparkling gems that tremble in light, 
 
 May lie in their native sea, 
 For a glance from the eyes of the one I love 
 
 Is dearer by far to me ! 
 
 Oh ! the sages may tell of the wealth to be found 
 
 In the pages of ancient lore, 
 Of the glorious feast of prose and of rhyme 
 
 As they con their volumes o'er; 
 But the wealth that lies hid in the old time script, 
 
 No matter how rich it may be, 
 Cannot equal one word from the lips I love, 
 
 That's dearer by far to me ! 
 
 Oh ! the miser may count o'er his hoarded gains, 
 And gloat o'er his golden store,
 
 And gather his wealth with a trembling hand 
 
 From every clime and shore; 
 But the golden gleam that hardens his heart, 
 
 He is welcome to keep, and free; 
 For a beaming smile, from the one I love, 
 
 Is dearer by far to me ! 
 
 Oh ! Princes may tell of their gorgeous courts, 
 
 Of their palaces, grand and high, 
 Of their gardens and parks, outstretching afar, 
 
 So pleasing to royal eye; 
 But their palaces grand, their fields and parks, 
 
 I care not to have, nor see; 
 For a simple cot with the one I love, 
 
 Is dearer bv far to me ! ,/
 
 LAMENT OF THE SAILOE'S BEIDE. 
 
 On fliis lone sea shore, 
 
 "Where the wild waves roar, 
 And dash up their beaten spray, 
 
 Here I sit forlorn, 
 
 From the early mora 
 Till the close of each weary day; 
 
 Here I wait and "vveep, 
 
 And my lone watch keep, 
 "While the waves in their bounding glee 
 
 Chant a wild refrain, 
 
 As I watch in vain 
 For a form that is lost to me. 
 
 For beyond the wave, 
 
 In his island grave, 
 "Where the wild floweis a bower have 
 
 There he sleeps alone 
 
 In the grave unknown, 
 Wliereliis messmates their comrade laid;
 
 82 
 
 And recks not that I 
 
 Ever sit and sigh, 
 Looking out from this lone sea shore, 
 
 Keeping watch in vain 
 
 O'er the mighty main, 
 For a form that will come no more.
 
 83 
 
 O'ER BEYOND THE SHINING RIVER. 
 
 O'er beyond the Sinning River, 
 There the angels sweetly sing; 
 And the souls immortal quiver 
 With the melodies that ring; 
 
 Ever singing, 
 
 Gently ringing, 
 
 Angels chant their sweetest lays, 
 Of a Lord and Saviour risen, 
 Ceaseless songs of endless praise. 
 
 O'er the river, safely anchored 
 On that bright and golden shore, 
 There the good and blessed are singing 
 Praise to God forevermore; 
 
 Weary mortals 
 
 Through the portals 
 Press to join the joyful throng, 
 As the friends who went before thorn 
 Gladly beckon them along.
 
 84 
 
 See the countless number swelling,. 
 Coming from the world below; 
 See the beams of heavenly sunlight 
 Make the waters brighter glow ; 
 
 There gloomy fears- 
 
 And sorrow's tears 
 Shall ne'er again be known, 
 bought but joy and gladness ever 
 Shall be felt ia that bright home. 
 
 Surely death is not so dreary, 
 If the hope we only cherish 
 That the toil worn souls so weary 
 Though in death can never perish; 
 
 But shall gain 
 
 For every pain 
 
 A glorious recompense, far more 
 Than enough to pay the toiling 
 When they reach that Golden Shore.
 
 85 
 
 YES, OE NO? 
 
 Dearest love ! if when the sun 
 His diurnal course had run, 
 And the evening had begun 
 
 After summer's sunny glo\v; 
 When through all the golden west, 
 Fleecy clouds in amber dressed, 
 Soft proclaimed the hour of rest 
 
 To the night advancing slow; 
 Should I in the witching gloam, 
 From thv woodland cottasre home, 
 
 */ O 
 
 Ask tliee lovingly to roam, 
 
 Wouklst thou answer yes, or no? 
 
 Did you thus consent to stray 
 In the pleasant twilight grey, 
 At the closing of the day, 
 
 With the moon uprising slow; 
 And, if by thy prescence blessed, 
 Wild, entranciugly I pressed 
 To my heart, and fond caressed 
 
 Thy bwoet form, ray love to show;
 
 86 
 
 If upon a time like this, 
 
 In an ecstacy of bliss, 
 
 I should ask thee for a kiss, 
 
 Wouldst thou answer yes, or no? 
 
 Still, if lovingly we strayed 
 In the pleasant sylvan shade, 
 Where the boughs dependent swayed, 
 
 Gently sighing, soft and low; 
 Or if in the silv'ry beam, 
 In a wild, ecstatic dream, 
 All the world to me did seem 
 
 Centered in thy weal or woe; 
 When my arm did round thee twine, 
 With my hand enclasping thine, 
 Should I ask thee to be mine. 
 
 Wouldst thou answer yes, or no ?
 
 87 
 
 LOYE SCORN DESPAIR. 
 
 LOVE 
 
 Evening star appearing 
 As tbou seemest Hearing, 
 Hast thou aught endearing? 
 
 Hast thou aught for me ? 
 Gentle zephyr winging. 
 Love tuned anthems singing 
 Tell me, art thou bringing 
 
 Auo;ht that's dear to me? 
 
 o 
 
 River, ne'er returning, 
 "With thy voice of mourning, 
 Tell me, art thou scorning 
 
 While i ask of thee? 
 Ever onward flowing, 
 "Whence and where no knowing, 
 Hast thou heart for showing 
 
 Pity unto me ? 
 
 SCORN 
 
 At the morning's waking, 
 Whou the day- woe breakiag
 
 88 
 
 Came no maiden making 
 
 Thee her page to me ? 
 When the sun was soaring, 
 Hour of noontide scoring, 
 Sent she nought restoring ( 
 
 To my soul by thee ? 
 "When the day was waning, 
 And the night was gaining, 
 Was no word sustaining 
 
 Sent from her to rue ? 
 Was no token given ? 
 Have I vai-ily striven ? 
 Must my soul be driven 
 
 On in agony ? 
 
 DESPAIR 
 
 Ah ! thy mournful moaning 
 Is all hope dethroning, 
 As the deep detoning 
 
 Onward rolls from me ; 
 She hath sent but scorning 
 To my words love burning, 
 River, ne'er returning, 
 
 Bear me ou with thee ! 
 Heart, thy wormwood drinking,
 
 "Why this coward shrinking 
 From the slight unlinking ? 
 
 What is life to me ? 
 From her bitter scorning, 
 With my useless mourning, 
 Kiver, ne'er returning, 
 
 Thus I go with thee !
 
 90 
 
 ON THE KIVER. 
 
 On a river where the sunshine 
 'Mong the silver ripples played, 
 And the flower scented zephyrs 
 Fitful, wild and witching played, 
 By the breezes gently wafted, 
 Sailed a comely youth and maid: 
 
 Spake no word, but sailing there, 
 Built their castles in the air. 
 
 He, the lover, manly, noble, 
 
 She, his idol, sweetly fair; 
 
 They, both listless, idle dreamers; 
 
 But no threads of wordly care 
 
 Wove they with the golden texture 
 
 Of their castles in the air, 
 
 As they sailed that summer day, 
 Only youthful dreamers they, 
 
 But the lover gazing fondly 
 On the maiden by his side
 
 01 
 
 Whispers words of love endearing, 
 As they gently, onward glide; 
 Pouring out heart's fondest treasures, 
 Seeking nought from her to hide. 
 
 Love light o'er his features stealing, 
 All his wealth of love revealing^ 
 
 Thus he spoke, his love outpouring, 
 " On the river of our life, 
 In the sunshine, in the shadow, 
 In life's elemental strife, 
 Whether joyous all our journey. 
 Or with storm clouds it be rife, 
 All thy gladness let me share, 
 Allthv sorrows let me bear," 
 
 "Ere I answer," said the maiden, 
 
 "'One small favor 1 implore, 
 
 As we're drifting idly onward, 
 
 Scarcely moving from the shore; 
 
 This I ask: your patience craving, 
 
 Teach me how to pull an oar ! 
 Nothing losing, I may gain, 
 Though the wish may seem but vain."
 
 To this wish so strangely seeming 
 He sought not to answer nay, 
 But the oar still holding firmly, 
 Tought her how, and showed the way, 
 Rowing onward down the river 
 On that sunlit summer day; 
 Till at even's golden glow, 
 She herself the boat might row. 
 
 Then, the maiden smiling sweetly, 
 Thus her answer to him gave: 
 'On the river of our life, love, 
 Fortune kissing every wave, 
 Trust and -teach me in the sunshine 
 How to act when storms shall rave; 
 
 Then, when wild winds beat the shore* 
 I, perchance, may pull an oar 1"
 
 93 
 
 THE MUSIC OF THE HEART, 
 
 In each heart there ever vibrates 
 
 To each voice a tuneful chord, 
 And there sounds the sweetest music, 
 
 Trilled by ever loving word; 
 Like the barp, each separate chofdlet 
 
 Has its own peculiar range. 
 And each word, as it is graded, 
 
 Makes the music's tuneful change. 
 
 Sometimes there arise discords, 
 
 When the chords of love are crossed 
 By a voice that's toned in anger, 
 
 And love's melody is lost, 
 As the heart strings, dumb and tuneless, 
 
 Yibrate voiceless to and fro, 
 And the cadence dies to silence 
 
 While the tear's notes noiseless flow. 
 
 But the sweetest, purest music 
 
 Which the heart chords evei sound,
 
 94 
 
 And in which all other love notes 
 Die away in sweetness drowned, 
 
 Is the chord that's touched in kindness 
 By the dearest love of life, 
 
 And the power to trill that chordlet 
 Is but given to a Wife. 
 
 Other voices may be gifted 
 
 With a sweet melodeous tone, 
 But their notes may be forgotten 
 
 And become to us unknown, 
 AVhile that silver, silken chordlet 
 
 Thrills forever all through life, 
 Wnen one word, in love tones given, 
 
 Falls upon it from a Wife,
 
 95 
 
 LIFE'S WARP A1STD WOOF, 
 
 Our life is a gorgeous tapestry. 
 
 And we weave it day by day; 
 And the threads will run 
 And the form be spun 
 Let us weave it as we may. 
 
 Each coming joy is a golden thread 
 And we merrily pass it through; 
 And we watch it shine 
 As we gladly twine 
 The golden glor} true. 
 
 a sorrow comes and our aching hearts 
 Beat slow as we weave it in; 
 
 And we will not know 
 
 That our earthly woe 
 Makes brigther the crowns we win,
 
 But we only soo the earthly warp, 
 God from us the woof doth hide, 
 And where shadows lie 
 To our earthly eye 
 .It is light on the other side.
 
 "97 
 
 THE HEART'S ANGUISH. 
 
 I have wandered long and lonely, 
 Dreaming of the time when only 
 Love and gladness filled my heart, 
 
 Filled my heart with brightest joy; 
 When no thought of woe corroding, 
 All my life was downward loading 
 With an undefined foreboding 
 
 Of the cankerous alloy 
 Which the world at large was filling, 
 Hopes and joys, forever killing, 
 As a demon grim distilling 
 
 All the essences of woe, 
 Poured his murd'rous, vap'rous potions, 
 Making hellish dark commotions 
 
 In the inmost soul of man, 
 Till he curses all his being, 
 
 Curses heav'ns mighty plan 
 
 O'er each pain extorted throe. 
 
 Oh ! those mem'ries ever falling 
 On iny heart still keep recalling
 
 All on earth I had to love, 
 
 All on earth I loved and lost ! 
 And, my anguished heart still throbbing, 
 Ever throbbing, dully throbbing, 
 Seems the torture racked sobbing 
 Of a soul all tempest tossed; 
 And my spirit in its groaning. 
 Still is moaning, ever moaning, 
 Every hope of jo dethroning, 
 Sinking deeper in its woe; 
 All the awful horror drinking, 
 All the past and present linking 
 
 In a horrible design, 
 Gloats in frenzy o'er the picture, 
 O'er the picture that is mine, 
 And, tnat only I may know. 
 
 Oh ! the deep and mighty anguish 
 "Wherein now my sonl doth languish ! 
 With no ray of happiness, 
 
 With no hope foreverniore; 
 And, despaii now falling round me, 
 In its endless chain hath bound me, 
 While the demon still doth wound me
 
 To my heart's deep inmost core. 
 Oh, the deep abyss appalling, 
 Into which my soul is falling, 
 Where the loathsome vipers crawling 
 
 Deep, and deeper make my woe ! 
 And, my soul in horror starting 
 From the baleful glances darting 
 
 Through each lava-flooded vein, 
 Strives to mount from out the horror, 
 
 Striving, but to fall again, 
 
 While the fiends their thriumph show. 
 
 Oh, ye fiends in triumph yelling ! 
 On my heart your vict'ry knelling, 
 In your wild demoniac glee 
 
 Tearing at my heart-strings sore; 
 With your fiery glances flashing, 
 All my soul with torture lashing, 
 Like a whip of scorpions gashing, 
 
 Gashing, deeper, more and more; 
 Oh, ye demons hear my moaning ! 
 Hear my horror haunted groaning ! 
 With a might) deep detoning 
 
 Of a mournful, ceaseless woe:
 
 See my hands to you outreaching' 
 In a frantic wild beseeching. 
 
 Hear the pray'rs I madly pour t 
 Some respite from this mad torture, 
 
 Grant me, grant me I implore ! 
 
 To my soul some mercy show ! 
 
 Oh, ye hellish fiends ungranting ! 
 In your demon glory panting, 
 I have sued to you for nought, 
 
 Supplicated you in vain; 
 For, your breasts with rapture swelling^ 
 Feel a glory in thus kneeling 
 Doom, unto my ear thus telling 
 
 All its agony and pain; 
 Oh, ye fiends of hell infernal ! 
 With your pow'r almost supernal, 
 Reaching through all time eternal, 
 
 Here I mock you with my woe f 
 Here I tear my soul asunder, 
 Tell to you in tones of thunder 
 
 I defy you ! This I tell, 
 "While the mighty tones resounding
 
 101 
 
 Shout defiance thro' all hell, 
 Which to you in scorn I throw. 
 
 Kow, the waves of hell outpouring 
 O'er my soul are madly roaring, 
 And they seethe, and roll, and roar, 
 
 With a mighty monotone ! 
 And each word from hence ascending, 
 From my heart now stricken, bending, 
 'Neath its load for life unending 
 
 Can be nothing but a groan; 
 And this awful deep desparing, 
 And this fiery torture tearing, 
 At my soul forever wearing 
 
 Its unchanging mantle,- woe 
 Forces from my heart wild beating, 
 This one angusihed cry repeating 
 
 Up to heaven, down to hell; 
 Shall eternity but be 
 
 To my heart a fun'ral knell, 
 
 Shall 1 never mere} know 1 
 
 Oh, thou God above, all seeing I 
 Oh, thou Author of my being !
 
 102 
 
 Hear my supplicating moan, 
 
 Hear my wild despairing cr3 T ! 
 At thy throne in suppliance kneeling, 
 All my heart to Thee revealing, 
 Hear my frantic, wild appealing, 
 
 Save me, Maker, or I die ! 
 All my wrongs to Thee now bringing, 
 And to Thee now only clinging, 
 "While the angels, ever winging, 
 
 Bear aloft my weight of woe, 
 Up, from out my dark surrounding, 
 From the darts my heart still wounding, 
 
 Lift me, lift me I implore ! 
 Up from out the hadean darkness, 
 
 Lift my soul forevermore ! 
 
 And thy mercy to me show ! 
 
 What ? my weary burden lightens, 
 And my darkened spirit brightens, 
 Hast thou heard me, oh, Jehovah ! 
 
 Hastthou heard my soul worn cry ? 
 Yes ! I see thy mercy bending, 
 Like a halo bright descending 
 From a love that knows no ending.
 
 103 
 
 From its fountain head on high; 
 And my spirit upward bounding, 
 Up, from out its dark surrounding, 
 Song of praise to Thee is sou-id ing 
 
 As it mounts from out its woe. 
 And my praises up ascending, 
 Shall from henceforth know no ending, 
 
 But eternally shall sound 
 One continuous mighty anthem 
 
 For this peace unending found, 
 
 Which now o'er my soul doth flow. 
 
 , and o'er my senses stealing, 
 Comes that gentle calm revealing 
 Of a heaven given peace, 
 
 Of a peace forevermore; 
 And my soul its sweet rest gaining, 
 And the heav'n nectar draining, 
 Sees its mighty anguish waning 
 
 And its praise it doth outpour; 
 And the heaven ever nearing 
 Sendeth forth its sunlight cheering, 
 And diy sorrow disappearing 
 
 Leaves no semblance of the woe
 
 104 
 
 That hath now no power o'er me, 
 
 For within the land before me 
 There can enter no alloy, 
 
 To be mingled with the glory 
 
 Of that pure and endless joy, 
 
 Which my soul shall henceforth know. 
 
 THE END:
 
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