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 http://www.archive.org/details/captiveconceitsOOtaylrich 
 
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Captive Conceits 
 
 3B« 
 
 3BeUe (5ras Uaplor 
 
 G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 27 WEST TWENTY-THIRD STREET 
 
 LONDON 
 
 24 BEDFORD STREET, STRAND 
 
 Ube Iknicfeerbocfecc iprcss 
 1896 
 

 Copyright, 1896 
 
 BY 
 
 BELLE GRAY TAYLOR 
 
 Ube 1ftnfcf;crboc??er iprc0s, flew 31)orft 
 
 (• • •> « 4.'k7 
 
 C' » • «t «f C' 
 
 C C € «> 
 
TO 
 
 GRACE AND MAY 
 
 A labor of love, my daughters, 
 
 This little book hath been, 
 And oft when the troubled waters 
 Have rough been rolling in, 
 I *ve seen on the crest a pleasant conceit 
 And captured it, ere it could make its retreat. 
 To-day I enchain them and surrender to ye 
 Their keeping, secured by Love's padlock and key. 
 
 Mi91911 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Poesie's Awakening i 
 
 Dolores 6 
 
 Equipoise 8 
 
 Weft ii 
 
 CoRiNNE 13 
 
 The New Woman 15 
 
 Entremets 19 
 
 Beckey 20 
 
 A Winter Idyl 21 
 
 A Lively Day on Olympus 24 
 
 ** For Sweet Charity's Sake" 36 
 
 Song Personal 38 
 
 The Fall of the Modern Eve 40 
 
 To L. A. . . 46 
 
 To C. B. F 47 
 
 At the Banquet 48 
 
 A Bit of History 50 
 
 A Toast 56 
 
 V 
 
vi Contents, 
 
 PAGE 
 
 footlight-suggestions. 
 
 Acrostic 57 
 
 ,— ^^ethersole's Carmen 58 
 
 Property Kisses 60 
 
 Le Ballet . . . . , . . .62 
 The Absconding Cashier . . . . . .63 
 
 Flotsam 65 
 
 Gratitude 67 
 
 *' Rattled" 69 
 
 *' Regrets" 73 
 
 Half Seas Over 75 
 
 Football Episode 77 
 
 In Potential Mood 79 
 
 In Camp at Raquette Lake 80 
 
 Vacation 82 
 
 Our Club 83 
 
 Quatrains 86 
 
 To Ruth 87 
 
 My Friend 89 
 
 Love's Strategy 91 
 
 Slumber Song 92 
 
 Affinity . . 94 
 
 Etretat 95 
 
 Unsolved 96 
 
 To the National Society of New England Women 98 
 
 A Vision 106 
 
 Ad Finem 1 14 
 
CAPTIVE CONCEITS 
 

 POESIE'S AWAKENING. 
 
 /^UTSIDE the threshold of my soul 
 ^^ I heard a plaintive wail, 
 And flinging back the portal full 
 In swept a mighty gale. 
 
 "Who calleth there?" amazed I cried, 
 ** What means this mystery ? '* 
 
 " Lo, it is I,'' a voice replied, 
 " I Ve come to dwell with thee.*' 
 
 " Where art thou, strange, uncanny guest ? 
 
 Thy presence close I feel ; 
 A mystic gleam illumes my breast 
 
 But doth not thee reveal. 
 
Poesie^s Awakening, 
 
 ** Soars now my brain to dizzy heights, 
 
 My heart is all aglow, 
 My being 's filled with wild delights — 
 
 It ne'er before was so. 
 
 *' O unseen guest, what is thy name ? 
 
 "Why com'st to me like this ? 
 Not honor, wealth, nor mighty fame 
 
 Could bring to me such bliss/' 
 
 *' Lo, I am of the muses nine. 
 And Poesie I 'm called ; 
 
 I came to thee by right divine 
 To wake from sense enthralled. 
 
 ** And as the years have swift flown by 
 I Ve paused here times a score, 
 
 But thou heard'st not my haunting cry 
 Behind thy close barred door. 
 
Poesie's Awakening, 
 
 ** Thy soul is stored with precious wares 
 Close packed and darkly shelved, 
 
 Whilst thou among the noisome tares 
 In lowly depths hast delved. 
 
 " Unfold thy shutters thick and tall, 
 No more in darkness dwell ; 
 
 Disclose thy treasures, each and all- 
 Believe, thou doest well. 
 
 " Here 's satire keen as Damascus steel, 
 
 And pathos, velvety soft. 
 Now list while I thy wealth reveal — 
 
 I Ve tried so long and oft. 
 
 " Here 's malachite in rarest blocks, 
 The jealous fiend^s own shade ; 
 
 Of courage, adamantine rocks 
 In strata deep are laid. 
 
Foesie's Awakening, 
 
 ** Of passion, here are rubies rare, 
 
 And opals, pale, of grief ; 
 Love's sapphires, blue, beyond compare, 
 
 Surpassing all belief. 
 
 *' Here *s onyx black of deep despair, 
 
 And corals bright of hope ; 
 Diamonds of wit are gleaming fair 
 
 Adown thy life's dim slope." 
 
 *' O joy of wealth ! O wondrous guest ! 
 
 Thou 'st fev'rous turned my brain — 
 Where erstwhile all was peace and rest 
 
 Wild chaos now doth reign." 
 
 " Nay, fear thee not, for potent aid 
 Shall be at thy command ; 
 
 My mantle now is o'er thee laid 
 And loyal here I stand. 
 
Poesie's Awakening, 5 
 
 ** Deep in thy soul poetic chimes 
 
 I 'm ringing sweet and clear; 
 Delay no more, breathe forth thy rhymes 
 
 That others too may hear. 
 
 " Haste ! To the world thy jewels flash, 
 
 Thy golden fancies frame — 
 Unminding the keen critic's lash 
 
 And seeking naught of fame/' 
 
DOLORES. 
 
 npHE tide has ebbed rich freighted. 
 ^ All hope, love, joy are gone ; 
 Her heart with sorrow weighted 
 Hears but the low deep monotone 
 Of grief's sad wavelets ' 
 Despairing moan — 
 Despairing moan. 
 
 The dismal cypress* darkening shade 
 Spreads o'er her like a pall, 
 And phantom shapes in mists arrayed- 
 Ghosts of dead hopes beyond recall, 
 With shadowy wings 
 
 Flit over all — 
 
 Flit over all. 
 
Dolores, 7 
 
 The twilight dews fall dark and dank, 
 The night wind sighs a dirge ; 
 Noisome vapors, poisonous, rank, 
 From gruesome haunts emerge ; — 
 Still waits she there 
 
 On night's grim verge — 
 
 On night's grim verge. 
 
 Why lingers the maid in deepening gloom ? 
 Why flees she not the haunted shore ? 
 Vain, vain her flight ! for 't is her doom 
 To dwell with shadows evermore, 
 And in her soul 
 
 Pale phantoms soar — 
 
 Pale phantoms soar. 
 
EQUIPOISE. 
 
 "^ 71 riSDOM and Folly went out one day 
 
 ^ ^ In a pleasure yacht to sail on the bay : 
 Folly hoisted the sail to its fullest extent — 
 Wisdom reefed in, on safety intent. 
 
 Where e'er you sail, 
 To keep afloat 
 Take Wisdom with Folly 
 To balance the boat. 
 
 Hope and Despair walked forth at eve : 
 Despair sank exhausted, Hope touched her 
 
 sleeve, 
 ** Come, farther advance, I see for the morrow 
 A sky blue and bright, with no cloud of sorrow.*' 
 
Equipoise. 9 
 
 Despair raised her head 
 From the cold, damp ground, 
 And her weight held young Hope 
 Within Reason's fair bound. 
 
 Joy and Sorrow sat side by side : 
 
 Sorrow's wet lids by Joy were dried ; 
 
 Joy laughed out in careless glee, 
 
 Sorrow gently chid, *' Give a thought to me." 
 
 A smile for a tear — 
 Though justice sleeps, 
 A joy for a fear 
 The balance keeps. 
 
 Poverty and Wealth, though seeming no friends, 
 Each to the other pays dividends ; 
 This thing is true, just give it a thought, 
 Nothing is sold but something is bought, 
 And nothing is lost but something is won. 
 While good and evil parallel run. 
 
lo Equipoise, 
 
 Let pessimists groan 
 And talk as they will, 
 This planet of ours 
 Is well balanced still. 
 
WEFT. 
 
 rj'LYINGinandout, 
 ^ The shuttle ran rife 
 Through the spotless warp 
 Of a maiden's life. 
 
 Glancing back and forth, 
 
 A shimmer of light 
 Was quick woven in, 
 
 Of her heart's true knight. 
 
 Flitting fast and free, 
 A dim shadow ran — 
 
 A faint doubt of him, 
 That falsely began. 
 
12 Weft. 
 
 Darting fierce and wild, 
 With rattle and din, 
 
 A jealous tangle 
 Was woven of him. 
 
 Softly and slow 
 The shuttle ran — 
 
 Love was regaining 
 Her lost faith in man. 
 
 Silent and still, 
 The loom at rest — 
 
 The web is woven, 
 
 Her heart in his breast. 
 
A' 
 
 CORINNE. 
 
 H, gentle Corinne! 
 With thy violin 
 Thou fashionest music so sweet, 
 I could lie all day 
 And dream life away 
 On the turf at thy dainty feet. 
 
 'Neath evergreen shade, 
 
 In the sylvan glade, 
 I close to the infinite pause, 
 
 As thy magic bow. 
 
 So weird and low, 
 Its music strange, mystical, draws. 
 13 
 
14 Corinne, 
 
 Thou *rt' shy as a bird, 
 Yet thy notes are heard 
 
 In the halls of fashion and light, 
 And thy subtle spell 
 Thou weavest as well 
 
 As beneath the dark dome of night. 
 
 For thy soul, agleam 
 With its mighty theme. 
 
 Thy terrors doth vanish like mist ; 
 And with rapturous glow 
 Thou handiest thy bow. 
 
 By the spirit of music kissed. 
 
 Corinne, ah Corinne ! 
 
 With thy violin 
 Thou drawest all hearts to thee ; 
 
 My homage I bring — 
 
 This song would I sing, 
 But music ne'er dwelleth with me. 
 
THE NEW WOMAN. 
 
 nniME was when man monopolized 
 ^ The best of all a-going, 
 But now you need not be surprised 
 If woman does some crowing. 
 
 For what she 's done this last decade 
 Is quite a ten years* wonder, 
 
 And the genus Homo stands dismayed 
 Though she *s stolen not his thunder. 
 
 Perchance she might, but she well knew 
 That she could do much better — 
 
 I '11 prove this true ere I am through 
 That he is much her debtor. 
 15 
 
1 6 The New Woman, 
 
 She *s cleared away the underbrush 
 
 Of primeval tradition, 
 And now the modern man doth rush 
 
 To hear her erudition. 
 
 For college doors are yawning wide, 
 And dons bid her to enter 
 
 Where once man, mighty in his pride, 
 Alone was head and centre. 
 
 The lore of Galen, all is hers, 
 Blackstone is but a primer, 
 
 And yet it is a truth, kind sirs, 
 She cooks a first-rate dinner. 
 
 She poses on the platform high, 
 A true Delsartean model ; 
 
 No curtain lectures deigns to try 
 As did poor sister Caudle. 
 
The New Wo?nan. 17 
 
 She wields the brush with dextrous skill ; 
 
 Her pen flies o'er the paper 
 And glowing thoughts the pages fill 
 
 While lowly burns the taper — 
 
 For he 's asleep, the dear good soul, 
 Dreaming of stocks and mortgage, 
 
 And wondering where he *11 find a hole 
 To creep through on the shortage. 
 
 But waking with the morning light. 
 He finds that all his worry 
 
 In her black scratches of the night, 
 She *s settled in a hurry. 
 
 Finance for her no secrets has. 
 She dotes on exploitations. 
 
 And dabbles in such trifles as 
 The destinies of nations. 
 
1 8 The New Woman. 
 
 In journalism she *s abreast 
 
 With man in all its stages, 
 And on her laurels well may rest ; 
 
 A queen among her pages. 
 
 She hath her well-appointed club, 
 Her luncheons and her dinners ; 
 
 No sect nor creed she now doth snub, 
 But feasts with saints and sinners. 
 
 In truth, from bondage woman 's free — 
 Still one thing more she claims, sirs ; 
 
 Her right to vote — and you must see 
 *T will be our nation*s gain, sirs ! 
 
ENTREMETS. 
 
 A LL things in life are relative ; 
 -'*' Weakness to strength aid oft doth give ; 
 Strength, to forced conditions must comply ; — 
 Weakness, untrammelled, may to her succor fly. 
 
 Dress surely does a difference make ; 
 When you have grave affairs at stake, 
 A well cut coat, a stylish hat. 
 Essential are, remember that. 
 
 Believe all things will right themselves. 
 In course of evolution ;• 
 We Ve climbing higher, stage by stage, — 
 Attempt no revolution. 
 
 The poet is a man of moods. 
 To-day he sings, to-morrow broods ; 
 To-day is bland, to-morrow raves, 
 Unrestful as old Neptune's waves. 
 
 19 
 
BECKEY. 
 
 QHE 'S just a little thoroughbred, 
 ^^ From tip of toe to crown of head ; 
 And be it fair, or be it storm, 
 She 's always in the best of form. 
 
 Her lips are fresh as morning dew, 
 
 Her eyes are of cerulean blue ; 
 
 Her hair is brown, touched light with gold, 
 
 And fashioned close in classic fold. 
 
 Her laugh is like the mountain rill, 
 Spontaneous, bubbling from the hill ; 
 Her tears — alas, that she should weep — 
 Are like the spray on ocean's deep, 
 
 Her soul is white as falling snow, 
 Her heart is red with love's own glow ; 
 And in life's heat, or in its cold. 
 Our Beckey 's worth her weight in gold. 
 
A WINTER IDYL, 
 
 TO BABY COZZENS. 
 
 QWIFT falls the snow, 
 ^^ The wild winds blow 
 
 Around the " Monterey '* ; 
 And shadows deep 
 In corners creep, 
 
 This bleak and wintry day. 
 
 The shades of lawn 
 Are upward drawn, 
 
 Within the '' Monterey '' ; 
 And gusty clouds 
 Like demon crowds 
 
 Peep in, then speed away. 
 
 21 
 
22 A Winter IdyL 
 
 Now, smiling bright, 
 A winsome mite, — 
 
 Pride of the '' Monterey *' 
 Comes in to cheer 
 With presence dear 
 
 The gloom so dense and gray. 
 
 Fair, sweet, and fresh 
 Her dainty flesh, — 
 
 Babe of the " Monterey,*' 
 Right from her bath 
 Her good bonne hath 
 
 Brought her so blithe and gay. 
 
 And now upon 
 
 Her couch of down — 
 
 Safe in the " Monterey ''— 
 She crows to see 
 A sunbeam free 
 
 Burst from the clouds astray. 
 
A Winter Idyl, 23 
 
 It flickered o*er 
 The polished floor, 
 
 Within the '' Monterey ; '* 
 Then quick arose, 
 Kissed her pink toes, 
 
 And trembling fled away. 
 
 One glance she gave, — 
 Reproachful, grave, 
 
 There in the ** Monterey ; ' 
 Which said, " Mamma, 
 And you, papa, 
 
 Have cozzened it away/* 
 
A LIVELY DAY ON OLYMPUS. 
 
 i^^NE morn in eighteen ninety-nine 
 
 ^^ Great Jove awoke from his sleep divine. 
 
 With an ominous shake of his mighty beard 
 
 He seemed a god to be well feared. 
 
 With royal mien and kingly pride 
 
 He gazed o*er his dominions wide, 
 
 And, glancing down the cerulean blue. 
 
 He thought he saw there something new. 
 
 Quick called he Juno to his side ; 
 
 She came, majestic and keen-eyed. 
 
 ** Look quickly down below,** said he, 
 "And tell me if aught strange you see ! " 
 
 Her swift glance cleft the ether space, 
 
 A puzzled look came o*er her face ; 
 
 24 
 
A Lively Day on Olympus, 25 
 
 And turning quick to Jove, she spoke, 
 ** I think, my dear, it looks like smoke." 
 
 *^ Now, how came smoke in Olympian air, 
 Except by my cigar puffed there ? 
 What caitiff dare my realm invade ? 
 I '11 soon reduce him to a shade ! " 
 
 They silent stood, in watchful ire. 
 And still the smoke kept floating higher. 
 At length with clash, and clang, and jar, 
 A locomotive drew up with a Pullman car. 
 
 (Quoth Jove:) 
 
 " What infernal thing is that ? '' 
 As a man in tweed and soft felt hat 
 Sprang out before the train had stopped, 
 And right at Juno's feet he dropped. 
 
 ** Who be ye, presumptuous stranger, — 
 Know you not your head 's in danger ? 
 
26 A Lively Day on Olympus, 
 
 And what is that? and who are they 
 That dare in Jove's high realm to stray?*' 
 
 " O, that 's a special from New York, 
 With Dr. Depew and some of his sort ; 
 And a poor inventor, making a trip 
 To try his new patent railway grip. — 
 But, here *s a card with my address ; 
 I *m a reporter for the United Press. 
 
 " Gods and men are the same to me, — 
 In our pursuit they needs must be, 
 And nothing goes unless I swear 
 That everything is on the square." 
 
 At these words Juno smiled, quite pleased, 
 And Jove's deep wrath was quick appeased. 
 (Said He :) 
 
 " You 're the man I 'm glad to know, 
 For you can give me the news from below." 
 
A Lively Day on Olympus, 27 
 
 " O, yes, indeed, but there 's much to tell, — 
 And I think I hear the dinner-bell/* 
 (Says Juno :) 
 
 " I quite understand your suggestion, 
 And I trust our fare will suit your digestion. 
 1 11 be your hostess and Jove your protector — • 
 We'll feed you ambrosia and toast you on 
 nectar/' 
 
 ** That 's right ; Juno and I in this agree, — 
 While you 're in town we '11 board you free." 
 
 ** Thanks, then, I '11 at once begin my tale — 
 Your nectar might make my memory fail. 
 
 " We tread our equator and converse at ease 
 
 With friends in the far antipodes. 
 
 We ride on the water, float in air. 
 
 And reach our attics without climbing a stair. 
 
 We solid ice in midsummer freeze, 
 
 And make fine combs for honey-bees. 
 
28 A Lively Day on Olympus, 
 
 — By the way, if you '11 the contract let us, 
 We 'd like to make some for Hymettus. — 
 But, I digress. My friends, you see 
 Our commercial instincts shadow me. 
 I '11 hasten now my simple tale — 
 Things down below so soon grow stale. 
 
 " Our electric light puts out the moon. 
 And makes the midnight like the noon, — " 
 (Quoth Jove :) 
 
 "You daring mortals arouse my wonder; 
 You Ve got our lightning and will soon steal 
 our thunder." 
 
 " O, never, Jove, — we make our own ; 
 To hear it on the stage you 'd groan. 
 But the half my tale is not yet told ; 
 And, pray don't think me over bold, 
 But we 've brave heroes from the wars 
 Who 'd soon put hors de combat Mars ; 
 
A Lively Day on Olympus, 29 
 
 Barmaids fair as the queen of Sheba, 
 
 Who far outshine your little Hebe, 
 
 And nymphs of the dance, so agile and light 
 
 They *d beat Terpsichore out of sight. 
 
 And we an Adonis have down there, 
 
 With whom Apollo can't compare. 
 
 And lordly youths, so tall and fleet 
 
 That Mercury's laurels would fade at their feet.** 
 
 (Roared Jove :) 
 
 " Cease your comparisons odious. 
 Or I *11 give you quarters less commodious ! 
 You prove your boasts, or, ere you lunch, 
 I *11 treat you to a hemlock punch ! 
 Fleet-winged Hermes shall go down. 
 And warn your creatures of renown 
 Tis mighty Jove*s imperial will 
 They hither come to try their skill.** 
 
 " O, send not Hermes, — he *s far too slow 
 To run on errands down below. 
 
^o A Lively Day on Olympus, 
 
 1 11 summon them through the telephone, 
 And swift your message will make known. 
 Watch well, and you '11 espy them soon 
 Sailing up in a big balloon.'* 
 
 They waited on the giddy height 
 To watch their guests* quick upward flight. 
 Full soon they came with laughter and jest, 
 For their noble ship had sailed its best. 
 Then Jove assembled all his court. 
 (Said He : ) 
 
 " Of these pigmies we *11 make fine sport ! *' 
 
 He seated him in kingly pride, 
 The stately Juno by his side ; 
 And close around his courtiers sate, 
 The novel contests to await. 
 
 " On with the dance,*' was his command, 
 And at his bidding appeared a band 
 
A Lively Day on Olympus. 31 
 
 Most wondrous bright, and dazzling fair ; 
 All seemingly to tread on air. 
 The dance went on with subtle grace, — 
 Intense excitement filled the place. 
 Wise men, grown bald in pious age, 
 Sat raptured close unto the stage ; 
 While adolescents, with foot-ball mats, 
 Filled the air with tossing hats. 
 
 Then sudden came an ominous pause — 
 Followed quick by a burst of applause, 
 Brava ! brava ! Loierisqu^ ; Encore ! Encore 1 
 (Roared Jove :) 
 
 *' Enough ! Enough ! No more — no more ! 
 If defeated is our Terpsichore, 
 I swear *t was done by trickery. 
 Next comes Beauty on the list, — 
 And on stern justice I now insist.'* 
 
 And Beauty came, — such beauty I ween, 
 As n^ver before united was seen. 
 
32 A Lively Day on Olympus, 
 
 It took but a moment the palm to award, 
 For each and all were of accord. 
 Fair Venus turned in anger away, — 
 A professional beauty had won the day. 
 
 (Cried Jove :) 
 
 Venus darling, don't you fret, — 
 You *11 get the best of Lily yet, 
 Time will play her ugly pranks, 
 While you '11 keep fresh from your salty tanks. 
 Don't crawl back to your old half-shell — 
 This thing is but a monstrous sell." 
 
 Then — 
 
 To his factotum, white with fear, 
 With shout stentorian and clear ; 
 
 '* Bring forth the vaunted young athlete 
 With wing-heeled Hermes to compete ! " 
 
A Lively Day on Olympus, 33 
 
 Silent and swift progressed the race, — 
 A sombre spell hung o'er the place. 
 Each sporty maid a flyer took, 
 And wrote her favorite in her book. 
 With sullen face and brow grown black 
 Soon Hermes went limping ojff the track, 
 While, with swinging step and easy grace, 
 The New York athlete won the race. 
 
 Great Jove sank back upon his throne, 
 And from his lips escaped a groan. 
 
 " I give to you one trial more — 
 That shall decide what 's gone before. 
 I challenge your heroes from the wars 
 To mortal combat with great Mars.'* 
 
 Mars first appeared, in strength and might, 
 
 In Vulcan's armor burnished bright ; — 
 
 Then, came a man in blue and gold. 
 
 With a rifle, and bullets fresh from the mould. 
 3 
 
34 -^ Lively Day on Olympus. 
 
 Quick flashed in air Mars' glittering blade, — 
 
 The man in blue stood undismayed. 
 
 A flash of fire — a puff of smoke, — 
 
 A bullet through Mars' strong shield broke, 
 
 And entering his mighty breast — 
 
 The gods' great warrior was at rest. 
 
 The stately Juno tore her hair — 
 Jove roared aloud in wild despair. 
 But, when his rage was somewhat spent. 
 He for our good reporter sent. 
 
 (Said He :) 
 
 *^ Young man, you Ve won this day, 
 But your own defeat is on its way, — 
 Not to you, nor your worldings, the palm I yield. 
 But to Progress, which shatters the strongest 
 
 shield. 
 We 've been asleep for countless ages. 
 While you have advanced by rapid stages ; 
 
A Lively Day on Olympus. 35 
 
 But the wheel of Progress will crush you soon, 
 So hasten back to your balloon/* 
 
 " I thank you, Jove, for your kindly moral, — 
 In return, accept a dose of chloral. 
 It will send you back to your blessed sleep, 
 And the scenes of this day from your memory 
 
 keep/' 
 Jove took the potion in his grasp. 
 And, leaning back, said with a gasp : 
 
 *' Young man, young man, I pray you go ; 
 I wish no more of your world to know/* 
 
 Then the crafty reporter came back to town, 
 And sat up till midnight to write this all down. 
 
"FOR SWEET CHARITY'S SAKE." 
 
 ( Written for a Hospital Fair.) 
 
 "/"^AST thy bread upon the waters," 
 ^-^ And it shall return to thee cake, 
 
 O ye parents, sons and daughters, 
 With never a pain nor an ache. 
 
 Hie to the Fair with thy ducats. 
 And spend them with jolly good will, — 
 
 Where e 'er you lower your buckets 
 
 You 're sure to be pleased with their fill. 
 
 Ah, the soft hands that will serve you 
 And return all change that is due ; 
 
 Pray, don't let prices unnerve you — 
 
 They Ve ** fair," — Be assured this is true, 
 36 
 
^^For Sweet Charity's Sake.** 37 
 
 When thou return'st to thy dwelling, 
 
 Be it mansion, palace or flat. 
 It surely goes without telling 
 
 Thou 'It be all the happier that 
 
 Some head may rest on a pillow 
 
 That else might have lain on a stone, 
 
 Some life be caught on the billow. 
 Tossing out to the great unknown. 
 
 Go tell thy friends and thy neighbors 
 How water-soaked bread evolves cake — 
 
 How vast the gain of thy labors 
 When spent for " Sweet Charity *s Sake ! " 
 
SONG PERSONAL. 
 To E. G. 
 
 (With apologies to Auld Lang Syne.) 
 
 OHOULD ancient muses be forgot, 
 ^^ Unheard their classic rhymes, 
 Because, alas, it is our lot 
 To dwell in modern times? 
 Should Eschylus and Sophocles, 
 Euripides as well, 
 Ignored be, when at our ease 
 We may hear them read so well ? 
 
 Then here 's to these great poets three. 
 
 Who now in Hades dwell 
 And thanks to kindly Fate's decree 
 
 That gives us Lionel ! "^ 
 
 * Dramatic Reader. 
 
 38 
 
Song Personal. 39 
 
 There dwelleth now in Gotham's heart 
 
 A matron, wise as kind ; 
 
 She mingleth food with subtle art 
 
 For body and for mind. 
 
 To classic drama and to lunch 
 
 She biddeth us to come, 
 
 And digests with a bowl of punch 
 
 Her mental pabulum. 
 
 Then here 's to her, our hostess kind, 
 
 A woman up to date. 
 Who never leaves her friends behind, 
 
 What e*er may be their fate. 
 
THE FALL OF THE MODERN EVE. 
 
 TT was that same forbidden fruit 
 ''• Which caused poor Eve's sad fall, — 
 But she was spinning on her wheel, 
 And *t was a closer call. 
 
 No gallant Adam by her side. 
 
 Her accident to share ; 
 And on her shoulders lay the blame 
 
 That he himself might spare. 
 
 For she a woman was, quite new, — 
 
 That sure was just like Eve ; 
 
 But then she dressed in finer style 
 
 And wore a bigger sleeve. 
 40 
 
The Fall of the Modern Eve. 41 
 
 It happened thus, one bracing morn 
 When autumn's fruit hung red, 
 
 She mounted her new shining wheel 
 And o'er the country sped. 
 
 The wind among the branches played, 
 
 And carpeted the ground 
 With gorgeous leaves, and oft-times too 
 
 An apple there was found. 
 
 But out of sight, so slyly hid, 
 
 No woman fast or slow — 
 Upon her wheel ! — could e'er suspect 
 
 The danger lurking low. 
 
 O treacherous fruit, the cause of all 
 
 A woman's wicked woe, — 
 How dear, how dire to her thou *st been, 
 
 None but her sex can know ! 
 
42 The Fall of the Modern Eve. 
 
 Onward she rolled, this woman new, 
 Triumphant, brave, and free, — 
 
 Her wheel the hidden apple found ; - 
 Then came catastrophe ! 
 
 Naught but a pile of debris, seemed 
 This wreck so subtly made 
 
 Of woman fair and high-grade wheel, 
 That in the dust was laid. 
 
 Silent and still, so stunned was she, 
 
 A moment lay she there ; 
 Then came tumultuous sobs and tears- 
 
 *T was n't feminine to swear. 
 
 All bruised and battered was her wheel, 
 
 Her clothes to tatters torn ; 
 As drearily she scrambled up. 
 
 Of her high courage shorn. 
 
The Fall of the Modern Eve, 43 
 
 For miles and miles from home was she ; 
 
 Naught living was in sight, — 
 Save two red cows with glittering horns 
 
 That put her in a fright. 
 
 ** I almost wish I had n *t come 
 Out here so far alone — 
 
 It was n't safe, he told me so ; 
 Oh, dear, if I had known." 
 
 Her tear-stained face she buried close 
 Within her hands begrimed, — 
 
 Nor wist that he who '' told '* her so 
 Was scorching up behind. 
 
 The situation at a glance 
 His practiced eye took in ; 
 
 " By all the gods, now *s just the time 
 To take my chance and win ! 
 
44 The Fall of the Modern Eve. 
 
 "She snubbed me right and left last night, 
 
 When I to win her sought ; 
 So self-sufficing she appeared 
 
 I felt my suit was naught/' 
 
 He flung him from his noiseless steed, 
 
 By a true instinct led, 
 And clasped her to his throbbing heart 
 
 Ere she could raise her head. 
 
 A nervous little shriek she gave — 
 
 Which closed in glad surprise. 
 And through the dimmish tears there shone 
 
 A love light in her eyes. 
 
 Then he with ardor kissed her thrice, 
 
 Unheeding tears or grime ; 
 And blessed the " bike *' that brought him there 
 
 Just in the nick of time. 
 
The Fall of the Modern Eve, 45 
 
 With well stocked ** kit " and dextrous hand 
 
 He spliced the broken wheel, 
 And side by side they rolled away 
 
 Together, for woe or weal. 
 
 L Envoi. 
 
 The whispering breeze laughed low, 
 And the leaves in mirth tossed high, 
 
 The apples danced on the topmost bough 
 Beneath a smiling sky ; 
 
 Then in mocking chorus came the shout : 
 '' ' What fools these mortals be ! '— 
 
 Why must they all eat of the fruit 
 Of the forbidden tree?" 
 
TOL.A. 
 
TO C. R F. 
 
 (On tki rtmpt ^f tkt ^ft cf^ sterUn^ mtwr pm-hMer^) 
 
 rNEAR Clinton, wc have often heud 
 
 ■*^ ** The pen is mightier than the sword,** 
 
 Rut, list! V\\ whisper what I think: 
 
 ' r IS not thft sword, the pen nor ink ; 
 
 Convinced am I, Jis I grow oUkr, 
 
 The *• might '* is in the *^ ^tertiiic holder,"" 
 
 VI 
 
AT THE BANQUET. 
 
 T^HE world is round, wise men declare, 
 '■' And like a ball hangs in the air ; 
 But it will have an end, they say, 
 When certain forces come in play ; 
 And shall within its starry height 
 Explode like bomb of dynamite. 
 
 And thus the round of pleasure may 
 Come to an end, 'most any day ; 
 So, be thou wise, and ever try 
 To catch this charmer '* on the fly/* 
 Nor wait for her to settle quite, — 
 Be it broad day or densest night. 
 
 But, fleet and fragile are her wings — 
 
 Grasp her not rudely, lest she stings ; 
 48 
 
At the Banquet. 49 
 
 Pursue her not beyond the bound 
 Of right's and reason's solid ground, 
 Else she may lead you fast and far 
 Beyond your happy natal star. 
 
 But this is her demesne to-night, 
 And here she pauses in her flight. 
 She soars and circles o'er each guest. 
 Then, diving down, sinks low to rest 
 Within the crystal goblet's brim. 
 And temptingly smiles up at him. 
 
 Then let us have her out, I say, — 
 
 No more at hide and seek we '11 play. 
 
 But drink her down and make her ours 
 
 Beyond recall by all the powers. 
 
 So here 's to Pleasure ! gay and bright, 
 
 A willing captive here to-night. 
 4 
 
A BIT OF HISTORY. 
 
 ^ 1 riLD throbbed the hearts of the " 22nd;* 
 
 ' ^ Twenty-five years ago to-night, 
 As they bravely marched where duty beckoned, 
 To secure the Union's imperiled might. 
 And as they marched adown Broadway, 
 Those noble men in modest gray, 
 The welkin rang with loud acclaim 
 Of man, and lad, and lass, and dame. 
 But the mightiest cheers on the night air wafted 
 Were the plaudits of those who could n't be 
 
 drafted. 
 The blind, the halt, the lame, 
 Grew blinder, lamer, halter ; 
 But still, as news of battle came. 
 Their courage stood firm as the Rock of 
 
 Gibraltar. 
 
 50 
 
A Bit of History, 5 1 
 
 Our gallant band marched on its way 
 
 And took the train without delay. 
 
 They landed safe in Baltimore, 
 
 And there remained two weeks and o'er. 
 
 How well they bore their hardships there 
 
 The country knows, so I *11 forbear, 
 
 But simply note their great distress 
 
 When anything went wrong at mess. 
 
 They blacked their boots, they brushed their 
 
 clothes. 
 And in their buttonholes wore a rose. 
 
 Now, time was big with great events, 
 And forced were they to strike their tents. 
 Again away by rail they went, 
 For Uncle Sam had kindly sent 
 Those brave defenders of the nation 
 A train of cars for their transportation. 
 Safe arrived at Harper's Ferry, 
 With quinine and whiskey — 't was well to be 
 wary, — 
 
52 A Bit of History, 
 
 Footsore and weary from riding in cars, 
 
 They sat them down and smoked their cigars. 
 
 Their hearts with warHke ardor filled, 
 
 They really felt a little chilled 
 
 To find no rebels there 
 
 Who needed their especial care. 
 
 But stoics were they in that ancient day. 
 
 So they lay down to rest on blankets the best 
 
 And all dangers scorning, slept soundly till 
 
 Camp-life at Harper's Ferry, Boys ! 
 Who does not regret it? 
 Who can e *er forget it ? 
 
 Of active service we had not much, 
 But our discipline was such 
 That, could we have proved our mettle. 
 As sure as fate we 'd have won the battle. 
 
 Once, as dawn*s rosy fingers 
 Drew the curtains of night, 
 
A Bit of History, 53 
 
 The long roll resounded — 
 That surely meant fight ! 
 Awaked from our dreams 
 From our blankets we bounded, 
 But only to find the danger 
 Unfounded. 
 
 Weeks rolled by, — no enemy came, 
 But we served our country all the same. 
 These sacred words resigned us to our fate : 
 " They also serve who only stand and wait/' 
 
 Though battle came not with its blood-red 
 
 hand. 
 Still death crept into our gallant band 
 And took from us our brave commander, 
 A man of wisdom, truth, and candor. 
 
 " The king is dead ! Long live the king ! ** 
 Are words that must together ring. 
 We dropped a tear on Monroe's bier, 
 
54 ^ Bii of History. 
 
 Our offerings laid upon his pall, 
 Then, turned to greet our Aspinwall. 
 He too has passed to the great beyond, 
 Severing still another bond. 
 With God*s jewels, the flowers, 
 We shall soon deck their graves, 
 While we bless the great powers 
 Our Union still saves. 
 
 Though bloodless was our first campaign, 
 The *' 22nd " went forth again 
 And some among us fought and fell 
 Amid the shower of shot and shell. 
 
 But we come not here to-night 
 
 Our country's battles again to fight ; 
 
 But come we in peace and come we in love 
 
 With a tear for our comrades in the grand 
 
 army above, 
 And a word and a cheer 
 For those who are here. 
 
A Bit of History. 55 
 
 All hail ! to you, veteran brothers, 
 
 To you, colonels, commanders, and others, 
 
 And hail ! all hail ! to the memory of dear old 
 
 Abe 
 Who said he reckoned '* the Union would have 
 Gone to pieces without the ' 22nd/ '* 
 
 To-night we are a quarter of a century older, 
 But never have our hearts felt bolder; 
 So let us seem as young and merry 
 As we were in camp at Harper*s Ferry, 
 While we our flowing bumpers drain 
 In memory of our first campaign. 
 
 Note. — The foregoing lines were delivered at a banquet 
 given by the veterans of the Twenty-second Regiment, N. G., 
 N. Y., to commemorate the twenty-fifth anniversary of their 
 first campaign in our late civil war. 
 
A TOAST. 
 
 T TERE 's to the sparkling spray, — 
 -*- ^ To the lightsome foam so fleet ! 
 — T is the cruel hidden undertow 
 That drags us off our feet. 
 
 So here 's to mirth and laughter — 
 Whatever beneath them hide ! 
 
 — Sail we above the breakers high, 
 But ware the ebbing tide. 
 
 And here *s to fun and folly ! 
 
 If life be but a span 
 No time have we for melancholy, — 
 
 Be joyous while we can ! 
 
 56 
 
ACROSTIC. 
 
 TOY-BELLS, ring ye a glad acclaim, — 
 ^ Unto high Heaven resound her fame ! 
 Linger and list — she cometh — our queen, 
 In jewels and laces and satin's sheen, 
 Entwining young Romeo's heart with her own, 
 Trilling her song with her angel's tone. 
 Thou glorious Melba ! Thou Juliette fair! 
 Encore ! Encore ! or I die with despair. 
 
 57 
 
NETHERSOLE'S CARMEN. 
 
 A DEMON of beauty in scarlet and gold, 
 ^^^ A seductive, gay coquette ; 
 With her supple grace and glances bold, 
 Smoking a cigarette, — 
 
 That 's Carmen. 
 
 A colorless maid in faded blue, 
 
 Pure as an angel's dream ; 
 A saintly calm, a love as true 
 
 And — cool, as a mountain stream. 
 Dolores. 
 
 A soldier brave to face the foe, — 
 
 Unused to woman's wiles ; 
 A glance — a touch — an acacia's blow 
 
 Disturbs, distracts, beguiles. 
 
 Don Jos6. 
 58 
 
N ether sole' s Carmen. eg 
 
 His sergeant*s stripes for Carmen lost, 
 And struck from honor's roll, — 
 
 Still, all *s not gone, though dear the cost — 
 He saved his Nether — sole. 
 
 That *s nature. 
 
PROPERTY KISSES. 
 
 OHE kisses him sweet, and she kisses him 
 
 "^ long, 
 
 In the glare of the Hghts, in the face of the 
 
 throng, 
 And never a chance of one he misses — 
 He must not, indeed, for they 're property kisses. 
 
 It *s all in the way of business, you know, 
 
 And adds so much to the spice of the show ; 
 
 And, rains it applause, or seethes it with hisses. 
 
 He faithfully garners his property kisses. 
 
 60 
 
Property Kisses. 6i 
 
 The lights are turned down, — the play is all 
 
 over, — 
 The curtain conceals a maid and her lover ; 
 And he swears by his soul he knows what true 
 
 bliss is, 
 As he pays back with interest her property 
 
 kisses. 
 
LE BALLET. 
 
 T^HE fair Terpsichore veils her face, 
 ^ O, list unto her wailing ; 
 She cannot keep up to the pace 
 With '' Fuller " skirts prevailing. 
 
 62 
 
THE ABSCONDING CASHIER. 
 
 After '* The Bridge of Sighs." 
 
 /^NE more unfortunate, 
 
 ^^ Greedy of cash, 
 Rashly importunate, 
 Gone all to smash. 
 
 Think of him tenderly 
 All ye bereft. 
 With purses so slenderly 
 Filled since he left. 
 
 Alas for rascality, — 
 From that locality 
 Quick must he run. 
 O, it was pitiful. 
 In a whole city full, 
 All he must shun. 
 63 
 
 0- 
 
$4 ^^^ Absconding Cashier. 
 
 Forced was he to fly 
 
 With his treasures untold, — 
 
 And ne*er a good-bye 
 
 To shorn lambs in his fold. 
 
 Speeding on to the northward 
 By day and by night, 
 He crossed the big bridge 
 And there ended his flight. 
 
 Eating his breakfast there — 
 Tasting so clammily, — 
 All that is left of him here, 
 Is his family. 
 
 W' One more unfortunate, 
 Greedy of cash. 
 Rashly importunate, 
 Cutting a dash. 
 
FLOTSAM. 
 
 '* tD EEF in the sails ! *' the captain roars, 
 
 ^ Then oil upon the water pours ; 
 But wilder, fiercer grows the storm — 
 The crew turn white in dread alarm. 
 The salt sea washes o'er the deck — 
 The staunch proud ship is doomed to wreck. 
 
 " More oil ! more oil! *' the captain cries, 
 
 And anxious scans the sullen skies. 
 
 " The oil *s all out, we Ve no more hope — 
 
 There 's nothing left but ! ** 
 
 " We Ve saved ! we Ve saved ! " exclaimed the 
 mate, 
 
 " This cargo light decides our fate. 
 
 65 
 
66 Flotsam. 
 
 ** The ship may sink with all its boats, 
 
 But the , it floats, it floats ! 
 
 We '11 straightway build of it a raft " 
 
 At this the crew and captain laughed, 
 But instantly the angry waves 
 Swept scoffers all to watery graves. 
 
 The wise mate seized a trusty rope 
 And closely bound the cakes of ; 
 
 Then launched them on the stormy sea 
 And sprang aboard, right merrily. 
 Thus he was washed quite clean ashore, 
 As never man was washed before. 
 
 5 
 
GRATITUDE. 
 
 TO S. I. J. 
 
 T^O please my lord, I often try 
 * To make a sapid, juicy pie ; 
 But all my efforts are in vain, — 
 He frowns upon them with disdain. 
 
 Though hard I strive to please his palate 
 He cries to Bridget, ** Bring the mallet, — 
 No knife and fork can ever make 
 Upon this pie a single break/' 
 
 Then straightway to my den I go 
 And pen my grief in rhythmic woe ; 
 And, thinking thus to move his pity, 
 I give to him the mournful ditty. 
 67 
 
6S Gratitude, 
 
 ^' Art thou gone mad ? '* aloud he cries ; 
 '* I want not poetry y but pies ! '' 
 But since this morn all things are changed, 
 No more we two shall be estranged. 
 My heart islight, my eyes are dry, — 
 I know where I can buy good pie. 
 
 My grateful heart, full to the brim. 
 Goes out in thankfulness to him 
 Who sent to me, with kindly thought, 
 The luscious pie his baker brought. 
 
" RATTLED." 
 
 *nn WAS in the glorious summer time 
 '^ Two sportsmen, gay and witty, 
 
 Unto our royal Vineyard came 
 From out the broiling city. 
 
 All wild and eager for the chase, 
 Ne'er cared for love nor beauty, 
 
 But, with a field glass in its case. 
 They sallied out quite sporty. 
 
 The wily woodchuck was the game 
 
 These huntsmen brave affected. 
 
 So, slyly to his haunts they came, 
 
 Lest they might be detected. 
 69 
 
70 ''Rattledr 
 
 A meadow wide, with carpet green, 
 By rocks and trees surrounded, 
 
 Was where the woodchucks most were seen- 
 For there they most abounded. 
 
 These town sports on a hillock sat 
 
 And focussed well their glasses. 
 Unconscious of a woodchuck that 
 
 Watched them among the grasses. 
 
 T is true, they long time scanned what seemed 
 
 A hole all black and yawning, 
 But never for an instant dreamed 
 
 It was the woodchuck sunning, 
 
 Till suddenly he whisked his tail 
 And for the woods departed — 
 
 They seized their guns and on his trail 
 In mad pursuit they started. 
 
''Rattledr 71 
 
 They followed fast, they followed far, 
 
 Their victim swift retreating, 
 But naught less than a trolley car 
 
 Could cope with his wild fleeting. 
 
 Not thus again might it be said 
 
 Their vision was deceptive — 
 To each strange spot a charge of lead 
 
 Should prove their aim effective. 
 
 Then turning quite disgruntled back 
 
 To the far hillock slowly, 
 They spied an object — small and black — 
 
 Which lay there still and lowly. 
 
 " By Jove ! At last we Ve got one fair — 
 
 Now blaze away like thunder! " 
 Bang ! Bang ! '' Great Scott, we Ve hit him 
 square — 
 
 What the deuce was that, I wonder ! *' 
 
72 '' Rattled r 
 
 There came a crash of breaking glass 
 With splinters thick, fast flying, 
 
 And gleaming there a shattered mass 
 Where they *d left their field glass lying. 
 
 They spake no word, but wiped their brows 
 And sat down where the shade is — 
 
 Next day, as everybody knows, 
 They picnicked with the ladies ! 
 
 Vineyard Lodge, 
 
 Adirondacks. 
 
'* REGRETS." 
 
 TO MADELEINE. 
 
 TN " Roosevelt '* lies my only maid 
 
 Exceeding ill with quinsy — 
 My lord, in faultless garb arrayed, 
 A smile from me ne*er wins he. 
 
 Forced am I in the cuisine 
 
 With pots and pans to wrestle ; — 
 
 No more in salon reign I queen 
 Nor on soft fauteuils nestle. 
 
 And, while I 'm grinding in the mill 
 The fragrant bean of Java, 
 
 My temper *s glowing like a still 
 Of seething, molten lava. 
 73 
 
74 ''Regretsr 
 
 For — though I *m disciplined to toil 
 
 And oft am disappointed, 
 And much consume the midnight oil- 
 
 I *m not of the anointed. 
 
 Alas, my dear, this direful strait 
 Precludes my going to you, — 
 
 Pray Heaven that ne'er malicious fate 
 May such a mixture brew you. 
 
HALF SEAS OVER. 
 
 ly yi AY day at morn we sailed away 
 * " * By the Anchor Line, adown the bay. 
 Our great Republic we left behind 
 With its banners flying in the wind, 
 For just one hundred years had passed 
 Since our Nation's die was firmly cast. 
 
 Weak patriots then we all must be, 
 Just at this time to go to sea. 
 What is the charm that draws us so, 
 Across the brine to our ancient foe ? 
 *T was a dreadful quarrel, fierce and wild, 
 But *t was well for the mother and best for the 
 child. 
 
 75 
 
76 Half Seas Over. 
 
 A hundred years of peace and war 
 Have left us without wound or scar, 
 And across three thousand briny miles 
 Old England beckons us and smiles. 
 She sends us goodly ships and strong, 
 Which bear us over in many a throng. 
 
 Brave Scotland, too, throws out her line, 
 
 And baits her hook so wondrous fine 
 
 That no man can remain at home 
 
 When once he views the City of Rome. 
 
 So here *s good luck to her captain and crew, 
 
 A safe quiet trip to her voyageurs too ! 
 
 Concert, City of Rome, 1889. 
 
A FOOTBALL EPISODE. 
 
 OHE was tripping up the Avenue, 
 ^^ This maiden brave and fair ; 
 And he was pacing down it, too, 
 Quite gay and debonair. 
 
 The orange and black adorned her breast,- 
 He wore the Yale's dark blue ; 
 
 The sun was sinking low to rest, 
 
 And down bowled the football crew. 
 
 The blue, triumphant, proudly waved, — 
 The orange and black drooped low ; 
 
 The maiden paused — the crowd she braved 
 With her gorgeous Princeton bow. 
 77 
 
78 A Football Episode. 
 
 "You 're beaten, take it off ! '* he cried, 
 
 As he met her, face to face. 
 ** Never ! good sir, pray step aside, — 
 
 T were best you kept your pace.'* 
 
 She passed him by with scornful mien, 
 He turned and followed on, — 
 
 The Yale's dark blue had lost its sheen, 
 The orange and black had won. 
 
IN POTENTIAL MOOD. 
 
 OHE held the tiller, he rowed the boat, — 
 ^^ While the whippoorwill trilled his plain- 
 tive note ; 
 And the purple shadows, soft and dim, 
 Spread a royal mantle over them. 
 
 The twilight waned, — and lake and sky 
 Met close in darksome mystery ; 
 While whispering pines on the dusky shore 
 Told weird tales ne*er heard before. 
 
 O, haste thee, boatman, with thine oar ! 
 Steer, gentle coxswain, for the shore ! 
 O, summer night, — sweet, subtle, wild, — 
 Alas ! the hearts thou hast beguiled. 
 
 79 
 
IN CAMP AT RAQUETTE LAKE. 
 
 O 
 
 WHO would dwell 
 In a big hotel, 
 Amid the noise and clatter ; 
 Or promenade 
 Piazzas broad, 
 And listen to the chatter ? 
 
 Not you nor I, — 
 
 We quick would fly 
 
 Unto the woods and waters ; 
 
 And build a camp, 
 
 Be it dry or damp, 
 
 Nor seek for finer quarters. 
 80 
 
In Ca77ip at Raquette Lake, 8i 
 
 We '11 not be rude 
 
 In our solitude, 
 Though trail of beast doth track it,- 
 
 But to our friends 
 
 Will make amends, 
 And bid them to the Raquette. 
 
VACATION. 
 
 A WAY, away from the bustle and din, 
 ^*^ Away from the city's soil and sin, 
 Away from the carking cares of life, 
 Away from humanity's toil and strife ; 
 
 Up, up to the mountains, down to the sea. 
 On to the wilderness fresh and free. 
 With rifle and bag, with rod and with reel, 
 Over rocks and through thickets silently steal. 
 
 Through midsummer days and cool dewy nights. 
 Ah, tarry with nature and taste her delights ; 
 Then, in the sere autumn, hardened and brown, 
 Return well equipped for your labors in town. 
 
 82 
 
'OUR CLUB." 
 
 BY ONE OF US. 
 
 A BAND of bright women are accustomed 
 -^"^ to meet 
 
 In a modest house, on a quiet street, 
 To read one day in every week 
 Original English, or — translated Greek. 
 The hostess, a matron of practical life, — 
 A fond weak mother and fair housewife, — 
 Still, feels her life is not quite full. 
 So at the Muses takes a pull. 
 Each member of this brilliant band 
 On her own convictions takes her stand, 
 And be the topic what it may. 
 Every individual has her say. 
 
 83 
 
84 " Our Clubr 
 
 We Ve liberal in sects and creeds, — 
 Each follows the one her soul most needs. 
 We 've read every author from here to 
 
 Kamchatka, — 
 Emerson, Tolstoi, and Madame Blavatsky. 
 From all we have drained their wondrous lore ; 
 To us, they *re squeezed lemons, and nothing 
 
 more. 
 Keppler and Newton are weak silly boys, 
 Their works in our hands have become idle 
 
 toys. 
 Old Plato is torn to Lilliputian shreds, 
 And Socratic philosophy no more light sheds. 
 Zoroaster, Buddha, and old Mahomet 
 Are thin and light as the tail of a comet. 
 We scale Parnassus with perfect ease, 
 And descend to *' Inferno " when e'er we please. 
 We climb the embankments of the stars, 
 And stare out of countenance blushing Mars. 
 Thus, having gained all heights and depths, 
 O, whither now betake our steps ? 
 
''Our Club:* 85 
 
 This problem great our souls perplexed,- 
 What can we modern Eves do next? 
 
 And thus it chanced, one gloomy day 
 
 We met together, quite blase, 
 
 An uncanny silence brooded o'er all, — 
 
 A reign of vacuity held us in thrall ; 
 
 Then one, divinely illumined, spoke, 
 
 And these electric words the dullness broke : — 
 
 ** Say, girls, do you know it is opening day, — 
 
 Let us go see the fashions, what do you say ? ** 
 
 A joyous thrill shot through each breast. 
 And the vexed question was laid to rest. 
 We went, — and O, such lovely things ! 
 From Paris hats to diamond rings. 
 We returned, — alas, financial wrecks, 
 But lovely woman is so complex 
 
QUATRAINS. 
 
 T^HE great uncertainty of things 
 * Adds richly to their flavor — 
 But to the mortal often brings 
 Confusion with its savor. 
 
 Who dares to say that *' Love is blind '* ?- 
 
 None sees so keenly as he ; 
 Given a shadow, he will find 
 
 The substance, the motive, the key. 
 
 86 
 
TO RUTH. 
 
 FN AINTY, winsome little niece,- 
 ^^ Ne*er a single bit of peace 
 To be had when you 're about — 
 How you put all things to rout. 
 
 Laughing, chattering in a tongue 
 Ne'er by mortal said or sung, 
 And each funny word you speak 
 Might as well be ancient Greek. 
 
 But your clear eyes tell the truth, 
 And your pantomime, sweet Ruth, 
 Can't be beaten on the stage 
 
 By man or maid of any age. 
 
 87 
 
88 To Ruth. 
 
 Creeping, toddling, scattering toys 
 Everywhere, with fun and noise, 
 You fill the house and rule us all, 
 Although you are so very small. 
 
MY FRIEND. 
 
 TO KATHERINE J N. 
 
 T T AST seen my friend with her soft waving 
 ^ hair, 
 
 With the look on her face that angels wear, 
 With her willowy form of perfect grace ? — 
 Where e'er she moves some good you trace. 
 
 Hast thou heard her voice with its low sad tone, 
 Or rich with a laughter all its own ? 
 Hast thou heard her whispered words of cheer 
 To one whose life is cold and drear ? 
 
 Hast thou seen her sweet eyes fill with tears, 
 
 At saddening tales she oft-times hears? 
 
 89 
 
go My Friend, 
 
 Or the mobile mouth and quivering chin 
 Which silently voice the grief within ? 
 
 Hast thou seen her hand outstretched to aid 
 A needy man, or sorrowing maid ? 
 Hast thou felt its sympathetic clasp 
 When thou wert in misfortune's grasp ? 
 
 *'No?'' Then, wouldst thou see this friend of 
 
 mine, 
 So sweetly human, yet half divine, — 
 Look close within thy mirror, dear, 
 And view the form reflected there. 
 
LOVERS STRATEGY. 
 
 T IKE a breath of summer o'er roses blown, 
 '^^ Love comes with a thrill to claim his own ; 
 Runs riot in her flowing hair, 
 Kisses her lips and brow so fair — 
 No rattling of chains discloses the truth, 
 That a captive is she of the mischievous youth. 
 
 91 
 
SLUMBER SONG. 
 
 (A Maiden, a Hammock, a Garden of Poppies.) 
 
 \/ E gentle zephyrs, softly sigh 
 ■■■ And sway her fairy form ; 
 Bright above is the azure sky 
 And far away the storm. 
 
 Waft o*er her Hds, ye drowsy god, 
 The dust of restful sleep, 
 
 And all ye poppies, lightly nod — 
 Soothe her to slumber deep. 
 
 Wild spirit of dreams, whisper low 
 
 How I have loved her long, 
 
 Nor ventured e'er to tell her so 
 
 Save in my voiceless song. 
 92 
 
Slumber Song, 93 
 
 Rest, maiden beloved, O rest, 
 
 And sweet be thy repose ; 
 The Lethe blooms* unconscious guest — 
 
 My lips in silence froze. 
 
AFFINITY. 
 
 T^HEY did but meet,— 
 -■' She passed him by 
 With scarce a look ; 
 But a soft sigh 
 Replied to his 
 Obeisance low, 
 And life took on 
 A heavenly glow. 
 
 94 
 
ETRETAT. 
 
 T^WO lofty cliffs above the tide 
 -■' A quaint old town between them hide ; 
 Narrow streets and winding ways, 
 Houses toned to tender grays, 
 Bright-hued gardens, rose-climbed walls, 
 And over all the sunlight falls. 
 
 Normandy, France. 
 
 95 
 
UNSOLVED. 
 
 ^A WHENCE come we? Whither go ? 
 
 ^ ^ We search the heights, the depths 
 
 below. 
 
 With zeal we scan the learnfed pages 
 
 Of Darwin, and a host of sages. 
 
 It seemeth quite too wide a chasm 
 
 Back from man to protoplasm. 
 
 Anon, we read of saints and sinners, — 
 
 Some fasted, and some ate good dinners ; 
 
 But when they came to lay life down — 
 
 Who can tell if either won a crown ? 
 
 And thus in doubt we still are left, 
 
 Of faith and reason near bereft. 
 
 No saint nor sage the problem solves. 
 
 But in denser maze the truth involves. 
 
 96 
 
Unsolved, 97 
 
 Then why the Alpha and Omega seek, 
 
 Since Christian, Jew, and pagan Greek 
 
 Have sought, and ever sought in vain, 
 
 Their mighty secrets to obtain ? 
 
 The past is dead, — the future yet unborn. 
 
 In the living present let us learn 
 
 A creed for the Eternal Now — 
 
 A doctrine that shall teach us how 
 
 To make of every good the most, 
 
 To see in evil but a ghost. 
 
 A gospel of love, for youth and age. 
 
 Shining with truth on every page. 
 
 Which heals the body, cheers the soul, 
 
 And makes of man a perfect whole. 
 
 All this was taught long years ago 
 
 By One who came on earth to show 
 
 That sickness and sorrow need not endure. 
 
 If hearts were true and lives were pure. 
 7 
 
TO THE NATIONAL SOCIETY OF NEW 
 ENGLAND WOMEN. 
 
 A WAKE ! O Muse, and tune thy lyre 
 ^^^ To notes of patriotic fire ; 
 That each responsive, vibrant string 
 Shall with New England*s glory ring. 
 
 I greet ye, daughters of a race 
 Where brain and muscle kept apace. 
 Stern were the lives our fathers led, 
 By labor and by hardships bred. 
 
 But, healthful was that honest toil, 
 
 Grand were the products of the soil ; 
 
 And everywhere New England birth 
 
 Is synonym for sturdy worth. 
 98 
 
National Society of New England Women, 99 
 
 Giants of intellect boast we, — 
 Fruits from our ancestral tree, 
 Whose branches spreading o'er the land 
 For freedom and for justice stand. , 
 
 Divines, philosophers, and seers, 
 
 Thoughtful workers, pioneers 
 
 In all great schemes for human weal 
 
 Are plain stamped with New England's seal. 
 
 But not alone to man is due 
 The glory of this England new. 
 No minor part need woman claim. 
 No cause to blush for sex or name. 
 
 Hath thought, ye daughters, o'er the list 
 Of names by fame and honor kissed ? 
 Glorious women, brave and free, 
 Born of our favored ancestry ? 
 
loo National Society of New England Women, 
 
 Remember ye brave Lucy Stone? 
 Wondrous the seed that she hath sown. 
 Her work, colossal, in woman^s field, 
 And rich and full the harvest yield. 
 
 But rough and thorny was the soil, — 
 
 Tradition's rocks near wrecked her toil. 
 
 She sought the legislative hall : 
 
 ** What ! '' cried aloud those Solons all, 
 
 " A woman in our halls of state ? — 
 
 She *s crazed — she needs a jacket straight ;- 
 
 A dangerous precedent 't would be 
 
 To yield her sex such dignity ! ** 
 
 Then one uprose, calm, unperturbed : 
 
 " Unduly, my colleagues, are you disturbed ; 
 
 Fear not. a precedent to make 
 
 Or vain tradition thus to break. 
 
 The world is moving on apace, — 
 
 Not sex, but Justice wins the race ; 
 
National Society of New England Women. loi 
 
 If you would not be left behind 
 
 Let this brave woman speak her mind." 
 
 Thus, with firm persuasive note 
 
 He won for Lucy Stone the vote. 
 
 And, to the '' House,*' ^ where on the floor 
 
 No womankind e*er spoke before. 
 
 Presented her to plead her cause 
 
 To those wise makers of the laws. 
 
 A valiant man was Harry Gray, 
 Who dared in that benighted day 
 Uphold the woman's cause, and rate 
 Her equal to her lordly mate. 
 No sons left he to bear his name. 
 But daughters, all unknown to fame ; 
 And one to-day this tribute pays 
 Of recognition and of praise. 
 
 Now count we her whose works and ways 
 Are crowned with immortal bays. 
 * Vermont Legislature. 
 
I02 National Society of New England Women, 
 
 Whose daring words, white, seething hot, 
 Dropped scorching on the accursed blot 
 Which stained our honor, stamped a He 
 On this boasted land of liberty. 
 Peace ! Harriet Beecher Stowe, to thee, — 
 Thy pen pierced deep the heart of slavery. 
 
 And thou, revered Lucretia Mott, 
 Thy teachings lightened many a spot 
 In darkened lives, and thou wast friend 
 To black and white until life's end. 
 O, ne'er in philanthropic fields 
 Did laborer garner fairer yields. 
 
 In letters we may proudly count 
 Names high writ on Parnassus Mount,- 
 So manifold, nor space, nor time 
 Permit inscription in our rhyme. 
 But Margaret Fuller's genius great, 
 Together with her tragic fate, 
 
National Society of New England Women. 103 
 
 Deep stir such pride and sympathy 
 We would not her fair name pass by. 
 
 Within cold Science's sacred fane 
 A lofty seat our sisters claim. 
 But one illustrious name we quote; — 
 T is Maria Mitchell, of learned note, 
 Who in the clear and solemn nights 
 Invaded the celestial heights 
 And stole the secrets of the stars 
 Like the sagest of astronomers, 
 And deemed it honor to reveal 
 Their mysteries for her pupils' weal. 
 
 In Art, read Harriet Hosmer's name 
 On Carrara blocks of enduring fame ; 
 And Charlotte Cushman, tragic, grand 
 Histrionic giant of our land. 
 An hundred more might we recall, 
 Women of New England all, 
 
104 National Society of New England Women. 
 
 ^ 
 
 Whose records, though of lighter gauge, 
 Still glorify our heritage. 
 
 Nor need we longer seek behind, 
 But *mid contemporaries find 
 Their powers, virtues, intellect 
 Through generations held intact,- 
 That fine ambition, glowing free, 
 Not simply to possess, but be. 
 
 T is true we live in merrier age, — 
 In light amusements oft engage ; 
 No witches burn we at the stake, 
 But free with them our joys partake. 
 And though in cities gay we dwell 
 And sometimes dress exceeding well, 
 Methinks as much of good there be 
 As in homelier garb and solemnity. 
 And, though convention oft doth chill, 
 The patriot fires are burning still. 
 
National Society of New England Women, 105 
 
 T was a noble thought, — patriotic, grand, — 
 Thus to unite in National band 
 The women of New England birth 
 Scattered broadcast o*er the earth. 
 May history *s pages glow and gleam 
 With its records, fair as Utopian dream, 
 And to her, its gracious Founder, be 
 All honor, praise, and loyalty. 
 
 V 
 
A VISION. 
 
 OAD and uncertain, in twilight draped 
 
 ^^ Like a garment gray, with folds unshaped, 
 
 I wandered left, then wavered right — 
 
 Closer the folds and lesser the light. 
 
 With hands outstretched, slow groping before, 
 
 I touched a key in an ancient door. 
 
 Quick thrilled my being with mortal shock 
 
 As with force new born I turned the lock, 
 
 And grim and hoarse with protest strong 
 
 The ponderous portal backward swung. 
 
 I paused in awe on the threshold worn — 
 
 What mysteries grave beyond its bourne? 
 
 I dared not enter the gruesome void 
 
 But quaked with a terror unalloyed. 
 
 When an eerie light the darkness broke 
 
 And a solemn voice this welcome spoke : 
 io6 
 
A Vision. 107 
 
 ** O child of man, wast not content 
 With law promulged and document 
 Which potentate and priest of yore 
 Provided thee in ample store ? 
 Must thou thyself investigate 
 The mysteries of church and state? 
 Need*st thou to reason ever hold, 
 And shun ecclesiastic fold 
 Because thy quickening intellect 
 Their cumbrous tenets doth reject? 
 Behold, I do not censure thee, 
 Thou art following thy destiny ; 
 Free enter by my favoring grace 
 This ancient storehouse of thy race, 
 And if perchance thou find'st the truth 
 Thou *st lost in thy insensate youth 
 Hold fast, till Time no more shall be 
 And fear not all Eternity/* 
 
 With courage born of words so fair 
 I paused no more, but ent'ring there 
 
io8 A Vision. 
 
 I found me in a chamber vast 
 Whose shelved walls were crowded fast 
 With musty tomes of churchly lore ; 
 And priestly robes all jeweled o'er 
 Gleamed iridescent in the gloom 
 Of the mysterious dim-lit room. 
 And virgins blest, in satin's sheen, 
 With pagan gods of classic mien — 
 Symbolic of old Greece and Rome, 
 Were crowded close beneath the dome. 
 Near, Hindu idols, grim, grotesque, 
 'Round Gautama and Brahma pressed. 
 Strange Druid altars stained with blood 
 For savage Britons* cult there stood, 
 And Isis and Osiris great 
 Sate gloomily enthroned in state. 
 While superstitions of every kind 
 Flitted like bats in the twilight blind. 
 
 All this I viewed in mood depressed — 
 Not here the balm for souls distressed. 
 
A Vision, 109 
 
 Passing on through the shadows afar 
 I found lying low a broken jar, 
 And thence arising a misty cloud 
 Like incense o*er a worshiping crowd. 
 Though faint and light in its lowly bed 
 It denser grew as it upward sped, 
 And mingling thus with the ghostly gloom 
 Strange darkness fell in the dismal room. 
 
 0*er the shattered vase I bowed my head 
 And on a fragment this message read : 
 
 " Behold, I am the dust of Doubt. 
 Long, long for freedom have I fought 
 Close prisoned here by Holy See, 
 My greatest, cruel enemy. 
 If thou for truth hast ever sought 
 Or pined for freedom in thy thought, 
 Release me from this monstrous thrall 
 And with me thou shalt compass all. 
 
no A Vision, 
 
 For death am I to false belief, 
 Inquiry is my staunchest chief 
 And oft in council he suggests 
 Strange by-paths in his mighty quests." 
 
 Here closed the message, but to me 
 It lightened much of mystery, 
 Revealing why I oft had strayed 
 Beyond the courts of Wisdom staid. 
 For doubting, doubting all things fair, 
 In darkness I had wandered there. 
 But who had compassed his release, 
 This arch destroyer of my peace ? 
 Naught but a golden sceptre lay 
 By shattered jar to mark the fray. 
 But he who thus had used his power 
 To man restored a fateful dower. 
 
 Faint and oppressed I turned to go, 
 Doubt e'er had seemed my direst foe— 
 
A Vision. in 
 
 Better far black veilM night 
 Than this confused uncertain light. 
 I hastened back to whence I came — 
 The massive door had closed again. 
 Then spake in accents big with cheer 
 A voice Hke music in mine ear : 
 
 ** O child of Doubt, thy steps retrace — 
 Rash wert thou to invade this place, 
 But since thou hast, be it not vain, 
 Press on, and thou the light shalt gain." 
 
 Then the angel of Hope came winging down 
 And a subtle force that was not mine own 
 Hurried me on through the mist and gloom 
 Till I traversed all the specter-filled room. 
 
 Then I entered a grand and dom^d hall 
 And the sunlight shone through its crystal 
 wall. 
 
112 A Vision, 
 
 While in the fair distance a golden door 
 Impelled me onward to further explore. 
 
 In shining letters I read above : 
 
 ** This guards the way to Truth and Love ; 
 
 No doubt nor dogma enter here, 
 
 Who holds the key has naught to fear.*' 
 
 Sadly I gazed at the keyless lock — 
 Futile must be my summoning knock. 
 Then the voice again in dulcet tone : 
 '* Behold, thou comest unto thine own, 
 For *t is purpose high, love strong and pure. 
 That open for mortals this wondrous door. 
 Know then, thou holdest the golden key 
 Which to this kingdom maketh free.*' 
 
 With tremulous joy I opened the door 
 And reverent step trod the spotless floor. 
 Sudden I thrilled with memories rare 
 Of earlier days and mornings fair 
 
A Vision. 
 
 113 
 
 When erst in that hallowed place I stood 
 Ere doubt has poisoned all my good. 
 
 Around I looked in glad amaze — 
 
 All was familiar to my gaze, 
 
 And there the Master with face divine 
 
 Stood reaching forth His hand to mine, 
 
 Saying, '' Welcome back from doubt and strife, 
 
 I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life.** 
 
AD FINEM. 
 
 T TPON a bleak and barren moor 
 
 ^^ She dwelt — this woman old and poor. 
 
 Half starved, and always scantly clad, 
 
 With naught on earth to make her glad. 
 
 Rebellious oft, yet knowing not 
 
 How to improve her dreary lot. 
 
 But, as her life drew near its end, 
 
 A longing came for some amend. 
 
 A fierce desire possessed her soul 
 
 To reach, ere death, a certain goal. 
 
 Then from her cabin mean and bare 
 
 She stole forth in the chill dark air. 
 114 
 
Ad Finem. 
 
 "5 
 
 A night and day she hobbled on, 
 Recked not of darkness nor of sun. 
 A gleam within her sunken eyes, 
 Like lightning from the shrouded skies, 
 Flashed wild, as her uncertain pace 
 Swift on her course she sought to trace. 
 
 At length, the sun, all glowing red, 
 Sank to its rest in ocean's bed ; 
 Its lurid gleams her keen glance caught — 
 This was the goal the wanderer sought. 
 " The sea ! the sea ! '* she shrieked aloud, 
 " These tossing waves shall be my shroud ; 
 
 " No more, no more to starve and freeze, 
 But just to rock on the billowy seas/* 
 She cast her down on the sandy shore. 
 And listened with glee to the ocean's roar. 
 Then o'er its limitless expanse 
 She swept her wild, ecstatic glance. 
 
ii6 Ad Finem, 
 
 '' O God ! *' she cried, " the way was rough, 
 
 But 't is so good to see enough 
 
 Of anything before I go 
 
 From this drear world of want and woe/* 
 
 The voice ceased ; low drooped the head ; 
 
 The tide crept up, and claimed — its dead. 
 
» ^^OU I 
 
 IV1191911 
 
 c 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 
 ofi'