UC-NRLF 
 
 ^B in SMS 
 
 \*w« 
 
 
 !'/xV«i^>T'*>yil 
 
 
 ILLIAM DOW 
 
 ^<i til »s<\ 
 
 'J 
 
 i!T<spiflSJ5W(S^>r^'^/>'<i«^<ii^^^^^ ; 
 
 ■'m>m0^ 
 
 Mfi»B(W*RH»C^'»'^^^m?i«t;<t9:S«^^^ 
 
'^%:^^^. 
 
 'M'"^M 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2007 with funding from 
 
 IVIicrosoft Corporation 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/autumnleavesmemeOOdowwrich 
 
JAMES RUTHERFORD. 
 
 (puj(^^uJi^ 
 
Autumn Leaves: 
 
 ^^ttt^ttto^$ mi » ^I^tt^rfm I "^tmtkn ^mmt 
 
 BY 
 
 WILLIAM DOW, 
 
 GLASGOW. 
 
 They best can judge a poet's worth 
 Who oft themselves have known 
 
 The pangs of a poetic birth 
 
 By labours of their own." — Cowper. 
 
 GLASGOW: 
 
 PUBLISHED BY JOHN TWEED, HOWARD STREET. 
 
 1880. 
 
LOAN STACK 
 
 Glasgow: Pkinted by William Rankin, 
 146 Renpield Street, 
 
^ 
 
 For these " Autumn Leaves " I can find no 
 fitter dedication than to the dear departed one 
 who enjoyed most of them in their vernal 
 prime, and who, had her own Autumn not come 
 too soon, would have gladly welcomed them as 
 they now appear. I believe she may still do 
 so, even from the Summer Land which knows 
 no fading; and — remembering how to her and 
 me the withering woodland waifs had used to 
 whisper, not only of the Winter fast approach- 
 ing, but also of another Spring-time sure to 
 follow — I fondly strew these at her feet, hoping 
 for them a similar suggestiveness. Autumn were 
 indeed a sombre season could we not, "like trees 
 in Winter-time," wait with hope and patience — 
 
 " till the wreathes 
 Of Winter fade before the breath 
 Of Spring, when we shall vanquish Death, 
 And wake our wondering eyes in light 
 To which our present day is night ! " 
 
 W. D. 
 
 719 
 
4<^«t^ttt$. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Day-Dreaming, I 
 
 The Wood, 6 
 
 To THE Clyde, g 
 
 To BoTHWELL Castle, 12 
 
 To Robin Redbreast, 14 
 
 The Forget-Me-Not, 16 
 
 Primrosina, 18 
 
 On the Mountain Top, - - 22 
 
 A Thunder Storm, 24 
 
 Rain in the Country, 28 
 
 Rain in the City, 30 
 
 With the Stars, - - - 32 
 
 Rowena's Wooing : A Minor Norman Conquest, - - 37 
 
 To my Pen, ^6 
 
 Changes, ----- 60 
 
 Baby Born, 61 
 
 A Nursery Notion, . -62 
 
 The City Sabbatic, 6^ 
 
 Nature Sabbatic, 70 
 
 Knowledge the Mother of Devotion, - - - - 73 
 
 Friendship's Frailty, - - 7c 
 
 In Memoriam. — T. D., 77 
 
 In Memoriam.— W. J. K. D., 79 
 
 Sonnets on a Sunny Son, - 82 
 
 Sight-Seeking Sonnets : In Memoriam, - - . . g^ 
 
 Consolation, oq 
 
 A Dream of Life, 
 
 91 
 
 A Dream of Death, g^ 
 
 To Death, 100 
 
 Resurrection, 103 
 
 Ministering Spirits, 106 
 
 Light, more Light, m 
 
CONTENTS. viii 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The Offering of Isaac, - - - - - - - 117 
 
 Bethel Beatific, - - - 123 
 
 The Doom of Doubt, 126 
 
 Via, Veritas, Vita, - - - -. - - - - 129 
 
 O SEND Thy Light forth, - - - - - - 130 
 
 Aspiration, 131 
 
 Dawn, 133 
 
 Resignation, - - - - 134 
 
 Jesus Wept, 136 
 
 There laid they Jesus, 138 
 
 Come, see the Place where the Lord lay, - - - 140 
 
 He rLED THEM OUT AS FAR AS BeTHANY, - - - . 141 
 
 Yon Bright Land, - - - 145 
 
 Our Father, 147 
 
UTUMN ^IeAVES. 
 
 »j=irt?attttttjj. 
 
 ITHIN the shadow of the trees 
 
 The playworn boy has found repose, 
 While Summer noonda/s languid breeze 
 In soothing softness round him blows. 
 
 He sleeps not, but his dreamy eyes 
 In wonder wander far and near: 
 
 The verdant earth and azure skies 
 To him mild mysteries appear. 
 
 But mysteries which yield delight, 
 
 Though he may never search them out:— 
 
 He lives by faith as well as sight, 
 And holds no fellowship with doubt. 
 
Behold the envy in his eye 
 
 As yon free rovers of the air 
 On downy wings glide swiftly by, 
 
 With power to visit everywhere. 
 
 " What bliss !" — he dreams : — " Could I have wings 
 To soar like these, and roam the sky, 
 The bird the merriest song that sings 
 Should not be happier than I. 
 
 O'er field and forest, heath and hill, 
 And through the fragrant flow'ry glen, 
 
 Long summer days to roam at will — 
 Untroubled by the cares of men. 
 
 On mountain-tops to set me down. 
 Without the toil of climbing there; 
 
 A king uncumbered with a crown — 
 My kingdom all the earth and air. 
 
 And then, O such delicious play. 
 
 When playmates, still to earth confined, 
 
 To school should drag their dreary way. 
 For me to leave them all behind ! 
 
Or condescend to join their sports 
 For but a moment; — then away 
 
 To seek my happier resorts, 
 
 And laugh at their imprisoned play!" 
 
 So dreams the boy, and thus the boy 
 
 Is fairly " father to the man," 
 For who loves not deep draughts of joy 
 
 From fountains far in dreamland drawn ? 
 
 Joys real and present, great however, 
 Our souls, insatiate, only prize 
 
 As pedestals on which to rear 
 Our Babel towers of fantasies. 
 
 Fain would we scan the future ; but 
 
 In vain our ever-prying gaze : 
 A veil we cannot pierce has shut 
 
 From us the view of future days: 
 
 A veil the present hour which leaves 
 But half-revealed to mortal eyes, 
 
 While Time within the other weaves 
 Life's wonderous web of mysteries. 
 
Above, below, at every nook. 
 
 We seek some parting rent or seam 
 
 Through which to cast a stealthy look 
 Adown the still and hidden stream: 
 
 But no, we cannot see nor hear 
 The voiceless world reposing there; 
 
 Those mystic realms which hope and fear 
 Alternately paint foul and fair. 
 
 Defeated, but determined not^ 
 
 To own defeat, the height we climb 
 
 Where Fancy lends the power to thought, 
 In realms unknown to soar sublime. 
 
 There, in a future of our own 
 
 Creating, great in dream-wrought deeds, 
 We trifle till our lives have grown 
 
 To worthless wastes of tangled weeds. 
 
 This should not be; our day is brief. 
 And long the task awaiting toil; 
 
 Day-dreaming is the veriest thief 
 That ever purloined precious spoil. 
 
Time bears us on — on with the throng 
 Of thousands voyaging its breast, 
 
 And ever as we glide along — 
 If not unwilling — some behest 
 
 Of duty calls us to arise, 
 
 And nobly lend a helping hand — 
 Perhaps to soothe the sufferer's sighs : — 
 
 Perhaps oppression to withstand. 
 
 And blessed most are they who hear 
 Most readily affliction's claim : — 
 
 Whose hands have oftenest wiped the tear. 
 Or gently fanned Hope's fading flame. 
 
 Then let us wake to truer life; — 
 Burst these somnambulistic chains, 
 
 And, boldly mingling in the strife, 
 Rest not till Right triumphant reigns ! 
 
^^ ^hL 
 
 'HAT is it in the sylvan shade 
 
 That so enraptures soul and sense 
 With solemn gladness, too intense 
 To be by poet's pen portrayed ? 
 
 A fond communion of the soul 
 With spirits wooing weary thought 
 Away from cares the world hath wrought, 
 
 To joys beyond the world's control. 
 
 We catch the cadence from above 
 Of intercourse they cherish there, 
 Distilling through the leafy air 
 
 In sacred symphonies of love. 
 
 Above, around, the mystic maze 
 Of arch and pillar forms a fane 
 Where seraphs sing in praiseful strain, 
 
 And Nature's fragrant censer sways. 
 
Beneath, the perfect stillness seems 
 
 The slumber of a soothing lay, 
 
 As eloquent as is the play 
 Of infant features fondling dreams. 
 
 While on the ground the shadows wreathe 
 And mingle with the scattered rays, 
 As if transcribing songs of praise — 
 
 The music that the zephyrs breathe. 
 
 And every flower that nestles there 
 On grassy knoll and moss-wove sward, 
 Seems rapt, in worshipful regard. 
 
 At Nature's shrine to whisper prayer. 
 
 O, it is good to seek and prize 
 
 Such scenes of love, and peace, and truth- 
 
 To let the soul renew its youth 
 In those near portals of the skies. 
 
 Yet even there we must not plod, 
 Content with only Nature's charms ; 
 Faith must apply her graceful arms 
 
 And wings to bear us up to God. 
 
For though in Nature God has shewn 
 His radiant glory everywhere, 
 His presence is but shadowed there 
 
 Who dwells apart, — sublime, alone! 
 
 ^t!i tif^ ^i^ii^. 
 
 ,NCE more with thee, my mountain maid. 
 My fair, my queenly Clyde, 
 I wander through the leafy shade. 
 O'er verdant lea and flow'ry glade, 
 
 A lover by thy side : 
 
 A lover! Yes; for long ago 
 
 Thy beauty won my heart; 
 And though I breathed no ardent vow, 
 Methinks thou may'st remember now 
 
 When we were doomed to part : 
 
How, on a sunny summer eve 
 
 I sought yon lonely dell, 
 In calm seclusion there to grieve 
 The fate that forced my feet to leave 
 
 The scenes I loved so well. 
 
 And how, when sunset's golden glow 
 
 Forsook thy placid breast, 
 I lingered still to list thy flow. 
 Half-fancying thou did'st murmur so 
 
 To soothe my soul to rest. 
 
 The night, with me to sympathise. 
 
 Assumed her sable pall. 
 And gazing down with pensive eyes. 
 Let tears of starlight from the skies 
 
 Upon thy bosom fall. 
 
 Unprized by thee, they glistened there, 
 
 But tears from me that fell 
 Were treasured up with miser care. 
 And hid within thy bosom fair, 
 
 My heart's deep love to tell. 
 
lO 
 
 Since then, beyond yon mighty sea 
 To which thy waters glide, 
 
 I've rivers seen more grand than thee,. 
 
 Yet met with none so dear to me 
 As thou, my lovely Clyde ! '•' 
 ■ ■ ) 
 
 Niagara's terriffic din 
 
 And rainbowed turbulence, 
 
 Though grander than thy Corra-Linn,. 
 
 Yet ne'er like it my heart could win 
 To love's own reverence. 
 
 The Amazon, in giant pride, 
 
 Spurns off affection's chains. 
 Even as it braves the ocean tide 
 And pours its torrents far and wide 
 Into the sea's domains. 
 
 * This is rather a stretch of poetic license, the author never having 
 crossed the Atlantic, except in imagination. He trusts the extravagance 
 may be excused on account of the comparisons it affords so favourable 
 to the river of his song. 
 
II 
 
 Missouri's wild and turbid waves — 
 
 A channel-fettered sea — 
 Irate at all obstruction, raves 
 And dashes on, nor gives, nor craves 
 
 One look of sympathy. 
 
 Not so with thee, calm, homely Clyde. 
 
 Where'er thy current rolls 
 It seems thy aim, thy joy, thy pride, . 
 A feast of beauty to provide 
 
 For beauty-loving souls. 
 
 That feast of thine with calm delight 
 
 I'll share, nor seek to roam 
 In quest of joys more fair, more bright, 
 Than those that charm my soul, my sights 
 
 Round this my Clydesdale home 
 
12 
 
 ^tf |(H|wn 49stif 
 
 ^ UBLIME old monument of glory faded — 
 ^ Of powers and passions of the ancient days ! 
 With pensive thoughts I feel my soul pervaded, 
 As on thy slowly-crumbling walls I gaze. 
 
 Yet heave I not a single sigh for thee; 
 
 Thee in thy pride I wish not to have known; 
 Far better as thou art ! for here I see, 
 
 In Grandeur's ruin. Ruin's grandeur shown. 
 
 As once in thee proud lords in feudal glory 
 Received their guests from far-dissevered lands. 
 
 So now, as Fancy reads thy silent story, 
 She views far-severed ages shaking hands. 
 
 As granite mountain peaks their tale unfold 
 Of wild commotions, once the earth upheaving, 
 
 So speak thy towers of men and ages old, 
 When feuds and wars our country filled with grieving. 
 
J3 
 
 But now, how changed ! As hills in turmoil bom 
 Become the emblems of what changes not, 
 
 So thou, in ruin, desolate, forlorn, 
 
 Proclaimest present peace, and wars forgot. 
 
 Grim, hoary preacher! " Peace on earth" proclaining- 
 One-half the Gospel — not in promise given. 
 
 But reaUsed ; strife-loving man reclaiming, 
 And softly tinging earth with hues of heaven. 
 
 While in the Eden-beauties round thee glowing, ^ 
 " Good-will-to-men," the listening spirit hears; — 
 
 The sermon and the song in concert flowing — 
 A harmony unheard by common ears. 
 
14 
 
 4<» %mn %mnuu 
 
 ^WEET warbler of the shady grove, 
 ^ Could I but make my home with thee, 
 No more should I desire to rove 
 In quest of joy, by land or sea: 
 
 could this weary heart of mine ^ 
 But rest in tranquil bliss like thine! 
 
 In dancing Summer's brightest morn, 
 When nature sings in merriest glee. 
 
 But when, with cares and toils outworn. 
 The scene seems all too glad for me, 
 
 1 love to linger through the shade 
 
 Where thou, with peace, thy home hast made. 
 
 But now, alas, it comes to mind 
 
 That summer dwells not always there; 
 
 Rude wintry storms must also find 
 Thy calm retreat, and make it wear 
 
 A cold, forlorn, and cheerless guise, 
 
 Which neither you nor I can prize. . 
 
15 
 
 And then, as I have sought you here, 
 And lingered ^neath this sylvan dome, 
 
 Shalt thou as lovingly appear 
 Within the shadow of my home, 
 
 To ask, with calm confiding eye. 
 
 The food which then the woods deny. 
 
 And even then, I know full well. 
 For I have seen thee oft before, 
 
 "Thy still, reposeful look shall tell 
 That surly storms, which rudely tore 
 
 'Thee from thy home, could ne'er molest 
 
 The peace that nestles in thy breast ! 
 
 So let me learn to rest no more 
 
 My hopes of bliss on outward things. 
 
 But in my heart that peace to store 
 Which never-failing gladness brings ; 
 
 For hearts where such a peace resides 
 
 -Alone can bear life's changing tides. 
 
i6 
 
 ^) Y Dee's sylvan margin, when day was declining, 
 ^ I lovingly lingered alone with my muse, 
 Inspired by the beauties of Nature, reclining 
 In glory which gloaming alone can diflfuse. 
 
 As twilight descended, I rose to depart, 
 
 But, rising, beheld what 'twas pleasure to see: — 
 
 A pensive Forget-me-not smiled to my heart, 
 As if 'twere imploring remembrance from me. 
 
 I gazed, as when Love gazes into blue eyes, 
 And finds itself mirrored and magnified there, 
 
 Till, even as Love longs to cherish its prize, 
 I felt I must needs have the flower in my care. 
 
 But, ere I could pluck it, my hand was delayed — 
 My being all bathed in betwitching prostration, 
 
 As FeeUng, or Fancy, or Fairies conveyed 
 A song of which this is a faint iteration : — 
 
17 
 
 Stay, stay, we have come on the Zephyr's soft wing, 
 The twilight to spend in this sylvan retreat: 
 
 A chalice of nectarine dewdrops we bring 
 
 To banquet our children, those flow'rets so sweet. 
 
 And that starry blossom to memory dearest, 
 Is dearest to us — sweetest child of our love; 
 
 Its hue and its fashion resemble the nearest 
 
 Those beauties that bloom in our gardens above. 
 
 Delighted, we witnessed the fond admiration 
 
 That ghstened thine eyes as thy head was bowed down 
 
 To view the dear emblem in calm meditation; — 
 Where now has thy love of the beautiful flown? 
 
 Place thou the bright gem in thy breast, it will fade 
 In less than an hour, and its beauty depart : 
 
 Nay — leave it to bloom in its own native shade. 
 And treasure its image imprest on thy heart. 
 
 Would'st send it to Mary, commissioned to bear 
 Thy pleading for love and remembrance enduring? 
 
 Then spare it, and swift on the wings of the air 
 We'll whisper thy message by means more alluring. 
 
To-night, having soothed her to softest repose, 
 We'll waft her to dreamland to lean on thy breast, 
 
 Then show her the love in thy bosom that glows — 
 A plea more persuasive than flower e'er exprest. 
 
 ) 
 
 Respectfully dedicated to Miss jfanc K., the author of the sentiment. 
 
 " They also serve who stand and wait." — Milton. 
 
 "^llHERE wood and water wooed the sun, 
 
 T A Primrose found its life begun, 
 Nor knew nor cared how long 'twould run. 
 
 One day, or two — perhaps for three, 
 It simply knew the luxury 
 Of feeling what it is "to be." 
 
 But as it looked and listened round 
 It found the world alive with sound. 
 From sunny air to sunlit ground : — 
 
19 
 
 The hum of insects busy nigh, 
 
 The river's ripple roUing by, 
 
 The lark's song thrilling through the sky. 
 
 Each sound and motion seemed to say 
 " All, all are busy, night and day. 
 In blissful work or buoyant play." 
 
 Then why, it mused, where work is rife. 
 Should I slip sleepily through life 
 And gain no glory in the strife ? 
 
 I drink the sunbeam's light and heat, 
 Enjoy the skylark's music sweet, 
 And envy bees their burdened feet. 
 
 But I, I really cannot see 
 What I can do, why I should be, 
 I am but painted vanity. 
 
 Last night I blushed, then paler grew. 
 As Zephyrs christened me with dew. 
 And whispered. Primrose, — what do you ? 
 
20 
 
 'Twas, How do ye do? the Zephyrs said, 
 Well-pleased to greet the graceful maid 
 That so adorned the woodland shade. 
 
 But she, too modest, ne'er had thought 
 By blooming there her work was wrought, 
 And so she answered, I do nought. 
 
 All night she dreamt of dreary day, 
 And, waking early strove to pray, 
 " O give me work, if work I may." 
 
 Two tiny feet came tripping through 
 The grass that lay love-sick with dew. 
 While joyance gemmed two eyes of blue. 
 
 One little loving hand embraced 
 
 And plucked the Primrose, then in haste 
 
 The tiny feet their steps retraced. 
 
 As loving mother chides her child. 
 
 Then fondles tt in transport wild. 
 
 So Mary plucked the flower, and smiled. 
 
21 
 
 She thought of one at home, who could 
 
 No more explore that long-loved wood, 
 
 . To whom this flow'ret would bring good. 
 
 " Alas, alas, the captive sighed. 
 
 My hope is gone, my prayer denied;" 
 *' No, no," a soft sweet voice replied. 
 
 So, soon on mother's couch it lies 
 Where she reclines, no more to rise. 
 And thus her longing satisfies ! 
 
 For she for weary months had prayed 
 
 Her last adieu might be delayed 
 
 Till Spring once more adorned the glade. 
 
 O Primrose, now no more complain, 
 Nor think thy brief still life in vain : 
 It soothed a dying mother's pain. 
 
 Thy mission was a work begun, 
 
 Which angels seeing, sang " Well done,'^ 
 
 Then wafted her beyond the sun. 
 
22 
 
 And there fulfilled thy promise true, 
 Gave her a Spring for ever new, 
 A Spring for ever wed with you. 
 
 For thus thy fairy form has found 
 A place in Memory's amber bound, 
 'Mong flowers that gem celestial ground ! 
 
 4^ i\t ^^^ttitJdit ^^. 
 
 ^'' HOUGH aching limbs and panting breast 
 Of over-exercise complain, 
 The pleasure far transcends the pain 
 Of climbing to the mountain's crest. 
 
 For thus 'tis not dull flesh alone 
 We elevate — our minds expand, 
 Aspire, and feel they may command 
 
 A greatness hitherto unknown. 
 
23 
 
 The breeze that brushes round our brows 
 Where nature holds us up to heaven, 
 Baptizes us with vigour given 
 
 To vanquish soul's enslaving foes ; 
 
 And, looking with enraptured eyes 
 On hill-tops crouching at our feet, 
 We feel how grand it is to greet 
 
 Success where effort gasping lies. 
 
 Above that vast expanse of earth. 
 Here sternly grand — there richly fair, 
 Beneath yon vaster azure air 
 
 We guess the grandeur of our birth ; 
 
 And swelling thoughts and surging sighs 
 • Assert our instinct to ascend 
 
 Beyond the mortal, and to blend 
 Our lives with life that never dies. 
 
 O blessed mountains ! First in light 
 As Morning's banner floats unfurled, 
 And last to lose it when the world 
 
 Is wrapt again in robes of night ! 
 
24 
 
 So heavenward looks my longing soul, 
 
 Inspiring radiance to derive, 
 
 And hope and strength, anew to strive 
 And struggle on to glory's goal. 
 
 And so, I trust, when night descends 
 For me on Time's few fleeting days. 
 To quit their last receding rays 
 
 For cloudless day that never ends. 
 
 HE sun went down in perfect peace, 
 And twilight swathed the dying day, 
 While restful night bade Labour cease. 
 
 Inviting pious souls to pray; 
 In prayerful praise all Nature knelt 
 Within the veil where Godhead dwelt. 
 
^Tis night of night, and peace hath found 
 Her perfect work where Summer sleeps; 
 
 But deeper darkness glooms around, 
 And terror through the stillness creeps; 
 
 Tempestuous fires explode the night. 
 
 And Nature trembles with affright. 
 
 Peal after peal, from far and near. 
 Crash into one continuous roar, 
 
 Till trembling hearts begin to fear 
 That Nature soon shall be no more; 
 
 Earth's final fires seem lit from heaven — 
 
 Its sepulchres by thunder riven. 
 
 Yet fear I not those lurid fires, 
 Nor tremble 'mid the uproar wild; 
 
 Sublimer joy my soul inspires 
 
 Than when around me Nature smiled; 
 
 This Sinai scene, O Lord, is thine. 
 
 And Thou art here — and Thou art mine. 
 
26 
 
 Poor craven soul ! think shame to show 
 Thy fear of Him thou wilt not love ! 
 
 His blessings every hour to know, 
 Yet lift no grateful eye above ! 
 
 Too cold His gracious smiles to own, 
 
 Yet trembling when He shows a frown. 
 
 'Tis well, perhaps, even now to feel 
 That God is near; but, O how poor 
 
 The soul which dreads the thunder-peal. 
 And shrinks the lightning's flash before,. 
 
 Yet fails His boundless love to view 
 
 In star and sunbeam, rain and dew ! 
 
 Eternal power and Godhead blaze 
 In every vivid flash of lightning; 
 
 But these as clearly greet our gaze 
 
 In every dewdrop, morning brightening; 
 
 And He who hung the sun on high 
 
 Is great as He who rends the sky. 
 
27 
 
 Each mighty burst of terror rolled 
 Bespeaks our God the God of might; 
 
 Each flashing sheet of vapoured gold 
 
 Proclaims the truth, that " God is Light;' 
 
 And soon the storni-purged sky shall glow 
 
 With " God is Love/' to all below. 
 
 When 'mid the storm our hearts can say 
 " Our Father," should we not rejoice 
 That He his power can thus display 
 
 In words of fire and thunder- voice ! 
 The Father who such powers can wield. 
 Will surely prove His children's shield. 
 
 Or, should it be His wise decree, 
 That through this elemental war 
 
 Should come from Him, to set me free, 
 His message and his fiery car, 
 
 A death more glorious I shall claim 
 
 Than hero's on the field of fame ! 
 
28 
 
 ^dtt tit i^t ^$tttttt|r, 
 
 jiT rains, it rains, it wrathfully rains; 
 
 Hear how it pelts on the window panes ! 
 And happy they who but hear it so — 
 Who thus alone can its fury know; 
 But sorry there case who unsheltered bear 
 Its pitiless pelt in the howling air; 
 Yet, while I muse on my couch composed, 
 Far better than I may be so exposed. 
 
 It rains, it rains, in mercy it rains; 
 For what were the sower's utmost pains, 
 And when would the field its fruit supply 
 Reposing beneath a rainless sky? 
 Earth's beauty then would forget to bloom, 
 And life evanish in Famine's tomb; 
 Then let us bless the reviving rain 
 That Edenizes our earth again ! 
 
29 
 
 Ere earth awoke from archaic gloom 
 To life and light in luxuriant bloom, 
 Wild waters waved o'er its weltering clay, 
 Till on the morn of Creation's day 
 The Spirit moved o'er the Hquid shroud, 
 And wrapped its folds into sea and cloud; 
 Then Nature, fresh from old ocean's breast. 
 Burst forth in Spring-time verdure drest ! 
 
 And so each Spring she grows young again. 
 By drinking life from the nectar rain : 
 The child of ocean, though aged now, 
 Must still for her mother's blessing bow ; 
 While she, through all her commotions wild, 
 Remembers aye her dependent child, 
 And charges the cloud's baptismal wing 
 To sprinkle earth with the joys of Spring! 
 
30 
 
 "^m in tiit ^ilS* 
 
 |£T rains, how it rains I Just hear how it splashes 
 
 Those crazy old doors and decayed window-sashes 
 A deluge discharged from the windows of heaven, 
 On nearing the earth into tatters is riven; 
 And, wreaking its rage on the rickety flags, 
 Makes streets, lanes, and closes like rivers in rags; 
 While tenements, temples, and turrets unshaken, 
 Like ghosts of a navy by Neptune forsaken, 
 Stand dismal — dismantled, deserted, and dripping — . 
 A wreck of the ocean, and ruin to shipping ! 
 
 It rains, how it rains ! O I pity those wretches 
 
 Who crouch through the closes like Punch-punished sketches! 
 
 In summer, when swells tights and topcoats are loathing, 
 
 The tatterdemalion may bless his scant clothing; 
 
 But deluges, drenching the dying year's '■^ —embers" 
 
 Must chill ragamuffin's whole body and members; 
 
 Soaked through to the skin, yea farther I fear. 
 
 What wonder he should try a "nip" or a "beer"? 
 
 The provost and parson are both at their " cham," 
 
 Why should they deny the poor dismal his dram ! 
 
31 
 
 It rains, how it rains! What a day for the cabs! 
 
 Shall we pity poor cabby in waterproof drabs ? 
 
 Not a bit, for to-day he has got, I declare, 
 
 Ten "tips" and ten " tipples," which had it been fair 
 
 He never had seen, so he need not complain; — 
 
 'Tis his to make hay not in sunshine but rain. 
 
 But making of hay is not much in his way. 
 
 Though he likes a "fare" well when it whispers him "hae;" 
 
 His faith is to fleece for the sake of the wool. 
 
 And skin when he finds he is fleecing a fool. 
 
 It rains, still it rains ! Why, this town of St. Mungo 
 St. Swithin's should be, from Sighthill to Strathbungo. 
 Six weeks without rain would make Clutha and Kelvin 
 Expose their foul channels for navvies to delve in; 
 While dealers in waterproof coats and umbrellas 
 Would find themselves bankrupt and ruined, poor fellows. 
 And who could be sorry ? For none should adhere 
 To a trade which, -^'ith fairness, no profits can clear; 
 And which, to keep quit of a Court Liquidation, 
 Must ever be courting the sun's Sequestration ! 
 
32 
 
 f itl{ tlt^ ^tmr 
 
 > 
 
 " A young child was lost in the bush at Talbragar, near Denison 
 Town, and was not discovered until after about thirty hours' search. 
 "When the little fellow was asked where he slept on the night he was 
 oni, he answered, ' With the stars. ' " — Sidney Herald. 
 
 PON the borders of the bush 
 Arose a thrilling cry — 
 A cry of anguish and dismay 
 That woke the drowsy sky 
 
 And broke bewailing echoes o'er 
 
 The twilight-mantled wild, 
 As through the gloom a mother flew, 
 
 Shrieking, " My child, my child." 
 
 Her child — a boy of six years old — 
 
 Brimful of buoyant life, 
 Heroic force and fire, pent up 
 
 For manhood's coming strife — 
 
33 
 
 A model of the manlier man 
 Whose empire bushward grows, 
 
 And must extend until those wilds 
 Shall blossom as the rose ! 
 
 That boy had wandered forth at noon 
 
 Upon his father's track; 
 But ne'er his father had he reached, 
 
 Nor to his home come back. 
 
 And now, the best his friends can hope — 
 
 A hope itself but fear. 
 Is that he wanders still alone, 
 
 Where none but God is near, 
 
 Amid the dangers of the bush. 
 Which e'en the savage dreads, 
 
 As by the stars, at midnight hour. 
 His pathless course he threads. 
 
 All night they search, but search in vain :- 
 
 Each loud, long, anxious cry 
 Is answered but by echoes drear 
 
 Which only live to die; 
 
34 
 
 And all the next long day, till night 
 
 Once more is closing round, 
 When " God be praised," the father cries, 
 " My precious boy is found ! " 
 
 ■O who can sound the seas of love. 
 
 Or gauge the gushing joy 
 That overflow those parents' hearts 
 
 When now they clasp their boy 
 
 As if from out the very grave : — 
 Loved, lost, and found again? 
 
 Such rapture is the soul of joy 
 Set free by dying pain ! 
 
 " Where did you sleep last night?" they ask, 
 
 And thus the boy replies : 
 *' Last night my sleep was with the stars 
 
 That smiled from yonder skies." 
 
 Brave boy ! thine was a noble heart, 
 
 A strong poetic mind, 
 And thus was thy companionship 
 
 Not to cold earth confined. 
 
35 
 
 To thee the jungle's solitude 
 
 But opened ampler space 
 For thought to throw its thralls away 
 
 And liberty embrace ! 
 
 The darksome night no dreariness 
 
 Presented to thy mind, 
 For through it stars rained radiance 
 
 Refulgent and refined ! 
 
 Thy sleep was with the stars : — Ah me, 
 
 Such fellowship is rare; 
 But thou wert worthy, else hadst thou 
 
 Ne'er felt that stars were there. 
 
 'Tis only for the mind that soars 
 
 Toward its source Divine, 
 That those bright eyes in tenderness 
 
 Through midnight darkness shine. 
 
 They smile upon the limpid lake. 
 
 And with the river play. 
 But scorn communion with the dull 
 
 Unsympathetic clay. 
 
36 
 
 Thy sleep was with the stars, bright boy ! 
 
 I see thee there recline, 
 And feel that stars are lustreless 
 
 Beside that mind of thine ! 
 
 Their light is cold, and groweth not, 
 While thine must still increase 
 
 Until it shines where stars are not — 
 Where night and darkness cease. 
 
 And, lullabied as thou hast been 
 By the music of the spheres, 
 
 Hope bids us list for melody 
 From thee in future years ! 
 
37 
 
 mm % 
 
 \mn^ % ^itt^ttt %mn\ i^mt[mU 
 
 (^ 
 
 HEN England's latest Saxon king 
 Had vaulted to the throne, 
 To feel it trembHng while he sat, 
 As if it scorned to own 
 
 His right or fitness to succeed 
 A king whose worth had made 
 
 That throne a shrine at which the heart 
 Of England homage paid; 
 
 From Norway's wild and rugged shores 
 
 An envious murmur came. 
 And o'er the sea, from Normandy, 
 
 Was heard a bolder claim; 
 
 While well he knew that not a few 
 
 In England's own domain 
 Gave but a sullen semblance of 
 
 Submission to his reign. 
 
38 
 
 To safely guide the barque of state 
 'Mid breakers such as those, 
 
 Was not a task for feeble arm 
 Nor indolent repose : 
 
 It needed more than Harold's might, 
 Though heart and arm were strongs 
 
 With all his kingcraft's subtile wiles, 
 To guide the vessel long. 
 
 Come, Edwin, spoke the anxious king> 
 None more than Harold knows 
 
 Thy heart's devotion to our cause — 
 Thy hatred of our foes. 
 
 Ere now, thy youthful arm has won 
 
 Rich laurels for thy brow, 
 But ne'er has such occasion called 
 
 As claims thy valour now. 
 
39 
 
 Then hie thee northward, swift as horse 
 Can bear thy burning heart; 
 
 Call out thy vassals every one — 
 To them thy zeal impart — 
 
 And with thy band of heroes brave 
 
 To Stamford Bridge repair, 
 For Tostig's pride and Norway's power 
 
 I vow to humble there. 
 
 And, list thee, Edwin, when our arms 
 
 That traitor has laid low, 
 No niggard largess shall be thine — 
 
 Thy sovereign then shall shew 
 
 How he esteems such loyal hearts, 
 
 Such ready arms as thine, 
 Rowena, England's brightest gem, 
 
 Upon thy breast shall shine ! 
 
 Our wilful ward too long hath pined 
 Within thy neighbour's tower; 
 
 She now must yield her to our will, 
 Or bend beneath our power. 
 
40 
 
 II. 
 
 Intent on war, intent on love, 
 His heart both brave and light, 
 
 He mounts his steed, he grasps the reins, 
 And darts into the night. 
 
 Ere morning's sun hath tipped its towers. 
 
 The courts of Ethelford 
 Are echoing the clash and clang 
 
 Of shield, and spear, and sword; 
 
 And willing hearts, from far and near. 
 
 Are hurrying to the call 
 Of Edwin, loved and honoured there 
 
 More than the king, by all. 
 
 III. 
 
 While thus his men are mustering 
 And marshalling in pride. 
 
 One hour their leader steals to seek 
 His now affianced bride. 
 
41 
 
 With love, no doubt, but love arrayed 
 
 In self-sufficient guise, 
 He met Rowena, not to plead 
 
 Acceptance in her eyes; 
 
 But, confident in royal right 
 
 To gift the maiden's hand, 
 And waiting not to woo and win — 
 
 He speaks the king's command. 
 
 As round King Canute's thrgjie, erewhile, 
 
 The rebel waves advanced. 
 Despite his orders to recede. 
 
 So fiercer surges danced 
 
 Tumultuous in Rowena's breast, 
 
 To think a king should try 
 To barter what was hers alone — 
 
 What empires could not buy ! 
 
 Go, said she — with a look of scorn 
 Which nowhere else can dwell 
 
 Save on a noble woman's face. 
 Her sense of wrong to tell — 
 
42 
 
 Go, tell the Royal knave who dares 
 
 Such message me to send, 
 That sooner shall Rowena's hand 
 
 Her earthly being end 
 
 Than yield itself to aught so vile 
 
 As one who would not scorn 
 To wed a bride from home and friends 
 
 By tyrant's mandate torn; 
 
 Go tell him, caitiff, that while life 
 
 Supports Rowena's pride, 
 No king on earth shall make of her 
 
 A basely bartered bride : 
 
 No — my own heart must first be heard. 
 
 And then my father's voice; 
 Whom these command shall have my hand- 
 
 I scorn all other choice. 
 
43 
 
 IV. 
 
 Though sorely wounded, Edwin's pride 
 
 Refused to shew his pain, 
 So answered he, right haughtily. 
 
 Proud lady, think again. 
 
 Remember that thy exiled sire 
 O'er thee has no command ; 
 
 The King alone, by Saxon law, 
 Can now dispose thy hand. 
 
 And, by my sword and spear, I swear,. 
 Since so the king hath said, 
 
 When victors from the field we come 
 The caitiff thou shalt wed ! 
 
 V. 
 
 At Stamford Bridge the Saxon host 
 Their warlike name maintained, 
 
 And in a hard-fought fight at last 
 A glorious victory gained ; 
 
44 
 
 But first among the heroes there, 
 Whose deeds are known in song, 
 
 Was Edwin, bravest of the brave, 
 And strongest of the strong; 
 
 His savage sword, of all the swords 
 That there wrought fame and woe. 
 
 Drank deepest of the crimson tide — 
 Laid most proud foemen low. 
 
 King Harold watched with stern delight 
 The wonders thus performed. 
 
 And, 'neath his sword, by blow and word, 
 The warlike Thane transformed 
 
 To Earl of Alderwood, and vowed 
 
 That thither he should ride. 
 So soon as victory was won. 
 
 To dower him with his bride. 
 
45 
 
 VI. 
 
 The fight is o'er, and Alderwood 
 Is thronged with warriors bold, 
 
 Assembled there around the King, 
 A victor-feast to hold; 
 
 The King, elate, from chair of State 
 
 Declares his Royal will — 
 Let each true-hearted guest, he says,. 
 
 Brimful his wine-cup fill 
 
 To toast our ward, Rowena fair. 
 
 Now the afiianced bride 
 Of Edwin, Earl of Alderwood — 
 
 Of warriors brave the pride ! 
 
 So speaks the Monarch, but, what now- 
 
 Why no responsive shout ? 
 Why this suspicious lull — those looks 
 
 Of questioning or doubt ? 
 
46 
 
 What meaneth this ! exclaims the king- 
 Who dares dispute our power 
 
 To wed our ward to one whose deeds 
 Deserve far richer dower ! 
 
 By Saxon law I have the right, 
 And here, by Heaven I swear. 
 
 That right I shall not yield while I 
 The Royal sceptre bear. 
 
 VII. 
 
 A feeble cheer gave faint response 
 To Harold's haughty speech ; 
 
 While through the hall a murmur rolled 
 Like waves along the beach, 
 
 Then broke like sudden thunder-peal 
 
 In bold defiant tone — 
 I, Harold, I deny thy right. 
 
 Even while you hold the throne; 
 
47 
 
 I still am Earl of Alderwood 
 
 And ^mid my vassals, I 
 Claim now my lands, my daughter too, 
 
 And all thy power defy 
 
 To wrest them from me; for, before 
 
 Such forfeiture is made, 
 A legal trial I must stand. 
 
 And that must be delayed — 
 
 Delayed until more doubtful claims 
 
 To higher rank than mine 
 Have first been settled by the sword — 
 
 Whose ? — you may well divine. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 A hearty cheer woke echoes then 
 Which many years had slept, 
 
 Unroused since last within that hall 
 The Earl had wassail kept, 
 
48 
 
 As, "Welcome, Earl of Alderwood!" 
 
 With many a lusty cheer 
 Rang through the hall, and smote with pairh 
 
 Th' astonished Harold's ear. 
 
 Rowena in her chamber heard 
 
 The joyous shouts resound, 
 And, like a rescued prisoner 
 
 From galling chains unbound, 
 
 With flashing eyes, and flowing locks, — 
 
 All heedless of her charms, — 
 She bounded through the crowded hall 
 
 Into her father's arms. 
 
 " Seize him, seize her," cried Harold then,. 
 In rage that would not hide, — 
 
 " An exiled traitor shall not keep 
 Brave Edwin from his bride." 
 
 Rushed Edwin then upon the Earl 
 
 In fierce and fiery wrath : — 
 Yea, on the father of his bride. 
 
 To clear him from his path. 
 
49 
 
 And, face to face, their swords unsheathed, 
 
 Two Earls of Alderwood 
 Prepared for combat; when, between, 
 
 A stranger forward stood — 
 
 Nay, hold thy hand, proud Edwin, now — 
 
 Nor venture mortal strife 
 With him whose daughter thou wouldst fain 
 
 Compel to be thy wife, 
 
 I claim the right to raise my sword 
 
 In her defence whose hand 
 Her father granted me ere yet 
 
 He left his native land, 
 
 And by the God who reigns above, 
 
 I swear to have my bride; 
 So yield thy claim at once, or draw, 
 
 And let our swords decide. 
 
50 
 
 IX. 
 
 Thus spake a Norman Knight in tones 
 Which love and truth made strong, 
 
 While Edwin, but by passion ruled. 
 Cared nought for right or wrong; 
 
 He only felt that his strong arm, 
 Which vanquished Norwa/s pride. 
 
 Could surely never fail him now 
 When fighting for a bride ; ' 
 
 So, quick as thought, or lightning flash, 
 And scorning further words. 
 
 They drew, and fair Rowena's fate 
 Hung trembling on their swords. 
 
 X. 
 
 It was a fearful fight, I ween. 
 
 As ever heroes fought; 
 Their hearts were brave, their swords were keen, 
 
 The prize unpriced by thought : 
 
SI 
 
 The lady, in her father's arms, 
 
 Trembled, and hoped, and feared; 
 
 While Harold, on his chair of State, 
 Less anxious scarce appeared; 
 
 For well he saw his warrior bold 
 
 Had met his equal now, 
 And dreaded lest a Saxon Earl 
 
 To Norman Knight should bow. 
 
 Perhaps, too, as he watched the fight 
 Some phantom thought arose — 
 
 A grim foreshadowing of fate — 
 That as should be its close 
 
 Might end another, greater war 
 Which then began to lower, 
 
 With aspect threatening to his throne, 
 'Twixt his and Norman power. 
 
 If so, no wonder that he wept 
 
 When at his feet was laid 
 The valiant Edwin, heedless now 
 
 Of monarch or of maid. 
 
52 
 
 XI. 
 
 He wept — 'twas but a passing tear; 
 
 He had no time to weep, 
 For word had come that William's fleet 
 
 Had safely crossed the deep, 
 
 And landed on the Sussex shore 
 
 A mighty warrior band, 
 Determined England's wealth and power 
 
 To wrest from Saxon's hand. 
 
 To meet and vanquish these was now 
 
 King Harold's burning aim, 
 So, turning to the Knight, he said, 
 
 Brave Norman, now thy claim 
 
 To wed Rowena thou hast well 
 
 Estabhshed by thy sword, 
 But, were it not that I can prize 
 
 Such valour, and afford 
 
53 
 
 To be more generous than thou, 
 My prisoner thou shouldst be 
 
 Until my arms thy Duke's proud host 
 Had hurled into the sea : 
 
 But go in peace, — my message bear 
 To that presumptuous lord, — 
 
 Tell him I have no wish again 
 So soon to flesh my sword j 
 
 Tell him to quit these shores, and cease 
 O'er such wild schemes to brood; — 
 
 'Twere better far that he and I 
 Should seek each other's good; 
 
 Such friendship I desire to show, 
 
 And now, should he retire, 
 I care not though a handsome gift 
 
 Should help to soothe his ire; 
 
 But if he dare to linger there 
 
 Beyond a second day. 
 He and his band shall understand 
 
 The fate of proud Norway. 
 
54 
 
 XII. 
 
 Undauntedly the Knight replied, 
 I claim my bride by right — 
 
 Mine by her own — her father's choice- 
 Mine by my right hand's might : 
 
 With her I'll go, and safely bear 
 
 Thy message to my King 
 But think not I, nor one of his. 
 
 Acceptance back shall bring. 
 
 The Norman is no perjured Dane 
 
 To pocket paltry bribes ; 
 The peace he swears is only that 
 
 His own good sword inscribes. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 How Harold's message was received^ 
 How Hastings field was fought, 
 
 'Tis needless here to sing — the tale 
 Our children know by rote; 
 
55 
 
 Enough, when William gained the crown,. 
 
 And England had become 
 A larger Normandy, therein 
 
 There was no happier home 
 
 Than Alderwood, whose acres broad, — 
 
 Rowena's own by right, — 
 Were nought to what her husband gained 
 
 By valour in the fight; 
 
 Lands still retained by sons of theirs, 
 
 Who tell with English pride 
 How fearless Frank de Beaumont wooed 
 
 And won his Saxon bride : 
 
 A nobler wooing than befalls 
 
 Full many a maiden now. 
 By fashion to the altar led 
 
 To rank or wealth to bow, 
 
 In base burlesque of holy rites 
 
 Which only should be given 
 To hearts already knit by love, — 
 
 The nuptial tie of heaven. 
 
S6 
 
 £ f*»» 
 
 PRECIOUS pen ! too long my muse 
 Has failed to feel her obligation 
 To thee, and must no more refuse 
 
 To bring the debt to liquidation: 
 A debt which cannot yet be paid 
 Without thine own unselfish aid ! 
 
 When far apart in distant lands 
 My friends and I feel isolation, 
 
 Then thou art ready at our hands 
 To put us in communication. 
 
 And from thy point our friendship flows 
 
 To every point the compass knows. 
 
57 
 
 When love is leaping in my heart 
 
 And cannot, will not, bear repression, 
 
 O then what rapture to impart 
 
 By thee the glowing soul's expression ! 
 
 When so engaged even thou must feel 
 
 Love penetrate thy heart of steel ! 
 
 When thought with thought, as friend with friend, 
 
 Commune in silent meditation. 
 Evolving other thoughts which tend 
 
 To vanish by evaporation, 
 ^Tis thine to seize the fleeting shade 
 And fix it where it may not fade. 
 
 Then when I wed my thoughts with rhyme, 
 But rhymes are coy and hard to marry, 
 
 And I must try time after time 
 
 Before my verse my song will carry, 
 
 By thee I form, reform, revise. 
 
 Till rhyme and reason harmonize. 
 
S8 
 
 And, last not least, when Beauty smiles. 
 
 On gaping album, while she whispers 
 This page is silent, can your wiles 
 
 Engage it with the other lispers ? 
 What were my fate my priceless pen 
 Were thou not there to say "Amen."? 
 
 My fingers yield a kind embrace 
 And find fi'om thee reciprocation;. 
 
 While on the virgin page I trace 
 My first and foremost inspiration. 
 
 And having done this penance sore 
 
 I feel my virtue running o'er. 
 
 Thou mighty minister of mind — 
 Mouth-piece of immaterial being — 
 
 Thy mission means to make mankind 
 All-wise, all-hearing, and all-seeing; 
 
 By thee long silent sages preach 
 
 And distant lands speaji each with each. 
 
59 
 
 What had we been had not the quill 
 Made pennate human aspiration ? 
 
 The world had been a cradle still 
 And we but babes in education; 
 
 Now, soaring far from such a state, 
 
 We find ourselves penultimate ! 
 
6o 
 
 J 
 
 temper a, mores! 
 
 HE times are changed since I was young- 
 Sometimes we then had Spring, 
 But now, untuneful and unsung. 
 
 She sleeps 'neath Winter's wing : 
 Snow melts reluctantly in May, 
 And hail hails in the longest day. 
 
 The world is changed since I was born — 
 
 We then had boys and girls, 
 But now our boys are men, and scorn 
 
 Their "governors" as churls; 
 While girls, like Spring, have disappeared 
 And ladies are from babies reared ! 
 
6i 
 
 $»h $nj[. 
 
 ^l NIGHT of suffering and pain 
 
 H^ Has passed away, and now the mom 
 
 Is bright with joy, for there is born 
 A child, which makes the suffering gain. 
 
 The mother, full of love and pride, 
 
 Luxuriates in calm repose; 
 
 While, dreamless yet of joys or woes. 
 Her baby slumbers, by her side; 
 
 And, half afraid he stays too long, 
 Yet love-impelled to linger there, 
 The father bends him o'er the pair 
 
 And out of weakness is made strong ! 
 
 Strong in Hfe's battle now to dare 
 And do more than he yet has done; 
 Not for himself but for his son; — 
 
 Strong every trial now to bear. 
 
62 
 
 Bright bud of promise ! just begun 
 To spread thy petals to the light : — 
 Sprung Godward from archaic night 
 
 To fructify beneath the sun ! 
 
 But what the fruit? Ah, well, 'tis vain 
 To seek the future to foreknow; 
 We may not, and 'tis better so. 
 
 Else Hope were dead and effort slain. 
 
 Auspicious Hope — Life's radiant star — 
 The noon needs not thy bhssful ray : 
 We seek thee not while shines the day 
 
 'Tis darkness lights thee from afar. 
 
 Then, Welcome baby to my breast,' 
 With all thy confluence of care 
 To deepen faith — dispel despair. 
 
 And brighten Hope's presage of rest ! 
 
63 
 
 ^ ]|u««js '^otU% 
 
 tAIR blossom of being, thy Spring just begun, 
 Entranced I contemplate the problem you hold; 
 The apex to which generations have run. 
 
 The base whence perchance many more may unfold. 
 
 Back through the dim vista of care-crowded years 
 
 I gaze till obscurity closes my view. 
 And there, 'mid the haze, to my fancy appears 
 
 A waif with a wavering resemblance of you. 
 
 And some subtle nerve in the sanctum of sight 
 
 Is touched with the likeness, and signs to my soul — 
 
 That is you as you fell from primordial night 
 And started the race of which death is the goal. 
 
 Ah me, while an ocean of turbulent thought 
 Surges over the hollow between now and then, 
 
 I murmur — could full retrocession be bought. 
 No price were too much for my childhood again. 
 
64 
 
 O could it be granted that I — the true me — 
 The essence within this existence that shews, 
 
 With all I have learned, could now but, to be 
 Begin like to-day when the morning arose; 
 
 My past but a yesterday leaving behind 
 
 Its wisdom to wait on the wants of to-day; 
 Ah, then should my evening tranquillity find 
 , And life pass with sun-setting glory away. 
 
 Vain thought ! the Eternal Himself cannot give 
 Such boon to ephemeral creatures of clay ; 
 
 But this he may grant me, henceforward to live 
 In hope of new life — new and glorious day! 
 
 For what is our death so much dreaded but birth 
 Into loftier, lovelier life than we know; 
 
 Where Spirit set free from the fetters of earth 
 Its power to progress shall triumphantly shew 1 
 
65 
 
 ^\t 4tl|f ^ttWatit, 
 
 t^^'lS summer morn, and now the king of day 
 
 I With growing strength some hours has held his throne; 
 The city basks beneath his glowing ray, 
 But fails as yet his quickening power to own. 
 The hours have come for business to be pressed, 
 Yet these erst busy streets I tread alone — 
 As if 'twere midnight still. 'Tis midnight morning-dressed ! 
 
 And why the change? Ah, there is reason strong! 
 Among the days one blessed day has dawned — 
 A day which, thanks to Heaven, does not belong 
 To toil or toil's taskmakers, but is owned 
 By man as man, for whom the day was made; 
 And blessed again by Him whose death atoned 
 For sin, that lost us rest, and labour on us laid. 
 
66 
 
 On such a holy morn it suits my taste, 
 And quarrels not with aught I understand 
 Implied in Heaven's benevolent bequest, 
 To leave the city for an hour, and stand 
 Where unto me it seems I'm nearer Heaven — 
 'Mong rural scenes, where Nature holds command, 
 And shews me as they came the gifts her God hath given. 
 
 Amid such scenes, and having filled my soul 
 From their o'erflowing beauty, I have gazed 
 Upon the city from some rising knoll, 
 As on my father, when he calmly raised 
 His toil-soiled hand, and Heaven's best blessings sought 
 On daily meals, for which we should have praised 
 Both him and Heaven, had we been grateful as we ought. 
 
 From labour now the citizens have ceased; 
 And not for rest alone, but higher need. 
 That in their Father's house their souls may feast 
 On all the words that from His mouth proceed; 
 And every skyward-pointing spire and tower 
 Seems as a hand outstretched with Heaven to plead 
 That blessings manifold may on those feasters shower. 
 
67 
 
 Amen, my soul responds, as I retrace 
 My steps to town, to mingle with the throng 
 Who now prepare to seek the sacred place 
 Where God is worshipped in prayer and song; 
 A mighty multitude of human hearts, 
 Like atoms by a hidden magnet strong 
 Attracted to the centre whence their being starts. 
 
 A hundred bells peal forth the call to prayer; 
 A hundred temples wide their portals fling; 
 A hundred thousand worshippers repair 
 To worship Him whose praises angels sing: 
 And seems it not as if the angels might 
 Descend to earth on sympathising wing 
 Those worshippers to aid in praising God aright. 
 
 Some fools there are, who scorn such grave pursuits; 
 Who have no heart for praise — who will not pray; 
 Who, choosing vile equaHty with brutes. 
 Own not a God, nor heed his sacred day. 
 Yet is there aught that noblest minds can try 
 So much ennobling as to humbly lay 
 Their powers expectant at the feet of Deity! 
 
68 
 
 I love at times to wend my peaceful way 
 Through rural lanes to one sequestered scene 
 Where, 'mid the tombs of ages old and gray, 
 There stands a humble church where oft convene 
 With humble hearts, in humble peasant guise, 
 A few as earnest worshippers I ween 
 As e'er from city sent an anthem to the skies. 
 
 Grand is such worship ! Yet, 'tis more sublime 
 When city crowds meet with the high intent 
 To rise beyond the things of earth and time. 
 And pour their hearts, in earnest worship blent. 
 Before the gracious throne of Him to whom 
 Must every knee in heaven and earth be bent 
 Either now in worship, or ere long for final doom. 
 
 And grander still by far, and pregnant more 
 With richest blessings would such worship prove, 
 Did every heart, thus seeming to adore 
 The living God of perfect truth and love 
 In spirit and in truth, and all as one. 
 Waft their united prayers of faith above : 
 Then heaven with joy were filled, and earth with grace o'errun. 
 
69 
 
 Their Head divine, in whose all potent name 
 The Church is taught to pray, has told them that 
 Where two or three agree in aught they claim 
 Through Him, it shall be granted them; then what 
 Should be the power of prayer, did all agree 
 In faith and love, and so united at 
 The throne of grace, implore in true sincerity? 
 
 Alas ! as yet, the demon Discord dwells 
 Among our churches ! Yet, what time they come 
 Most near to harmony must be when swells 
 Their hearts in prayer; then they forget to roam 
 The fields of petty warfare, and are drawn 
 Towards their common centre — the great home 
 Of pure and perfect truth, whence union yet shall dawn. 
 
 Then let us hope that each successive prayer 
 That penetrates the heavens may waft below 
 In blissful breathings — calm celestial air, 
 Until the churches atmosphere shall grow 
 Too pure and fragrant for discord to live 
 Within her bounds : — Ah, then the world shall know 
 The power of truth divine, and homage to it give ! 
 
70 
 
 ■^^mu ^nWalif 
 
 HIS sacred sunny summer morn 
 All nature smiles Sabbatic peace; 
 The sea — a glass whereon is borne, 
 Its placid bosom to adorn, 
 The reflex of celestial fleece. 
 
 The Sabbath bell in solemn tone — 
 
 Yet gladsome — pealed the Gospel call 
 To all God's worshippers to own 
 Allegiance to His sovereign throne, 
 And at His footstool humbly fall. 
 
 With pleased ear I heard the sound, 
 
 And thought myself to hasten there; 
 But ere God's house I reached, I found 
 That all around was holy ground, 
 And Godhead filling earth and ain 
 
n 
 
 I passed the temple built by hands, 
 
 And climbed the hill — an altar stair — 
 Whereon my spirit understands, 
 And feels, and gives, what God demands- 
 Sincere and heartfelt praise and prayer. 
 
 Such praiseful prayers were never read 
 As earth presents to summer skies; 
 Such prayerful praise was never played 
 Within Cathedral's vaulted shade, 
 Where song is oft but sin's disguise. 
 
 Devotion swathes me all around. 
 
 And binds me to the Mind Supreme 
 Who formed and fertilized the ground, 
 And vitalized yon glowing round 
 Which radiates this rapture dream, 
 
 O God, in scenes like this I feel 
 
 Thy boundless claims to be adored; 
 Thy wondrous works Thy ways reveal, 
 While through my inmost being steal 
 Devoutest thoughts of thee, O Lord. 
 
72 
 
 I love to join in praise and prayer 
 
 With those Thy sacred courts who throng; 
 Yet oft I cannot worship there, 
 As here, while robed in rapture's air, 
 Creation breathes its soul in song. 
 
 O help me. Lord, thus to adore 
 
 And praise Thy name each day I live ; 
 While loving nature more and more, 
 To love Thee better than before — 
 And fuller, truer, service give. 
 
 And when I quit this clinging clay 
 Which now obscures my spirit's sight, 
 
 May I those long-loved scenes survey 
 
 To find a far more full display 
 Of goodness, glory, and delight. 
 
73 
 
 tnmkk, llj. %omt d |mm. 
 
 Let knowledge grow from more to more, 
 But more of reverence in us dwell." — Tennyson. 
 
 fREAT God ! we feel Thy greatness more and more 
 As we ourselves grow greater, and extend 
 Our knowledge into realms unknown before, 
 And more of Thy creation comprehend. 
 
 Our early fathers bowed bewildered heads 
 In face of wonders which to us are plain, 
 
 Illumed by light advancing science sheds, 
 Yet we, like them, must feel our science vain. 
 
 For from the higher ground whereon we stand 
 
 We scan a vastly more extended zone 
 Of unexplored and more mysterious land. 
 
 And ocean, fathomless by lines we own. 
 
74 
 
 Thus we perceive that, conquer all we can, 
 From utmost conquests we must gaze abroad 
 
 On far horizons hued with haze to man, 
 But all well known to his omniscient God. 
 
 Yet still we would advance, and wiser grow 
 By careful study of Thy works and ways; 
 The more we learn, the more would wish to know; 
 , And knowing more, feel more inspired to praise. 
 
 And yet, O God, how little we can know. 
 When measured, not by puny human mind. 
 
 But by the wisdom which Thy wonders shew, 
 Or by the vast unknown we leave behind I 
 
 Like children on the sunny sandy shore 
 
 Where weary wavelets weave themselves away. 
 
 We catch but ripples of the robust roar 
 
 Which rolls to heaven where storm and tempest play. 
 
 Profound as we may think our fathomed deeps, 
 They are but shallows on the tide-left strand; 
 
 Spray-drops from off the ocean vast which sleeps 
 Hid in the hollow of Thy mighty hand ! 
 
75 
 
 IS hard to bear the loss of friends, 
 
 Even when by death the blank is made,. 
 But harder still when friendship ends 
 
 Where most we need true friendship's aid : 
 When fortune frowns and flooding care 
 O'erwhelms the soul in dark despair. 
 
 Ah, yes, when at the final bourne 
 
 Our friends, still friendly, breathe adieu, 
 
 We feel, although their loss we mourn, 
 That still to us their hearts are true — 
 
 And love and hope's expansive powers 
 
 Can grasp them still and hold them ours ! 
 
 But when amid misfortune's gloom 
 
 Friends break the ties we thought had bound us,. 
 More dismal shadows fill their room 
 
 Than death could ever cast around us : 
 Then less we mourn our hearts bereaved 
 Than grieve to find our love deceived. 
 
76 
 
 fondly loved one ! whom I thought 
 Loving as lovely, kind, and true — 
 
 Whose love alone my heart had sought 
 
 To cheer a gloom of darkest hue, 
 How could you quench the only ray 
 That broke the darkness of my day? 
 
 1 feel it cruel, and perchance 
 
 My pangs may please some perverse heart, 
 But it were madness could my glance 
 
 Behold you smiling on my smart; 
 For fondly I regard thee still, 
 And cannot think you meant me ill. 
 
77 
 
 h% 
 
 mnm,- 
 
 The author's Brother, drowned along with a companion,, 
 at Aberdeen, 2ist August, 1865. 
 
 L-1865. 
 
 ^''HE sun in growing brightness nearing noon 
 t Gave promise of a rich and glorious day; 
 The bursting blossoms silvered every spray, 
 
 And Hope already grasped the grateful boon 
 
 Of rich ripe fruit, which seemed so certain soon 
 To bless expectant hearts, and charm away 
 The memory of doubts and fears that lay 
 
 In Springtime's anxious breast, as in the moon 
 Frown doubtful shadows when she fairest shines. 
 
 Alas ! alas ! a dread eclipse transforms 
 The day to night; and expectation pines 
 
 O'er blasted blossoms 'mid the wintry storms 
 Of bitter grief; for he, the loved of all, 
 In promise of his youth is gone beyond recall. 
 
78 
 
 IL— i88o. 
 
 Yes, " gone beyond recall," — nor wish have I, 
 
 Now that these years have passed, to bring him back, 
 For doubtless he since then has kept the track 
 Of progress then begun, and now can fly 
 Where then he crept; and in the purer sky 
 Sees farther, and to loftier aims devotes 
 His energies than to the monad motes 
 Which here on earth engross the carnal eye : 
 Yet though beyond recall, he may come near, 
 And with new life my fainting heart inspire; 
 Bring light in darkness — faith and hope for fear — 
 
 Direct and aid my spirit to aspire, 
 Until, surmounting all that hinders here, 
 I reach at length his soaring spirit-sphere ! 
 
79 
 
 h %tmtlm,~% }. % % 
 
 Died i2th March, 1868. 
 
 I.— 1868. 
 
 ^L H me! ah me! What was I thinking? 
 '^^ That he was here? Ah no; no, no. 
 Did we not watch him suffering, sinking, 
 Till Ufe's spent tide had ceased to flow, 
 And from his soul-bright face had fled 
 All but the beauty of the dead? 
 
 Ah yes ! no more his radiant smile 
 
 Shall scatter sunshine round our hearth; 
 
 Nor merry laugh nor words beguile 
 
 Our cares, and charm our souls to mirth; 
 
 Yet, deathless in our souls shall dwell 
 
 The fair bright boy we loved so well. 
 
8o 
 
 Our love would fain have kept him here, 
 And vainly strove to stay the hand 
 
 That drew him to a happier sphere, 
 To join the joyous seraph band; 
 
 But longer, stronger love than ours 
 
 Claimed him for Eden's bHssful bowers. 
 
 And now, though some sad tears will dim 
 Our view of his unmingled joy, 
 
 We seek to yield all praise to Him 
 
 Who so has loved and blessed our boy; 
 
 And Who, by taking him, has given 
 
 Our home a family tie with heaven. 
 
 IL— 1880. 
 
 Ah yes, I felt his loss distressing. 
 And could not then rejoice to tell 
 
 That he had left my fond caressing 
 Within "Our Father's'' home to dwell; 
 
 Now, wiser grown, I mourn no more. 
 
 But feel it well he went before. 
 
8i 
 
 For he, in realms serenely blissful, 
 
 His mother waited to receive 
 When she, though quitting scenes distressful, 
 
 Felt loath her loved ones there to leave : 
 She left her children here in sadness 
 To join her griefless son in gladness ! 
 
 When my fair child from me was taken 
 My heart, bereaved, in sorrow pined, 
 
 But now I feel far less forsaken 
 By him than by those left behind : 
 
 He still to me a child is known, 
 
 While they have childish ways outgrown. 
 
 Now, crystallized in love unfading. 
 His infant image must remain; 
 
 While nought of his the vision shading. 
 Can ever cause me future pain : 
 
 Until we meet, my sprightly boy 
 
 Remains my fondest family joy ! 
 
82 
 
 ^mmb m ^ |«ittta ^^. 
 
 . L— 1868. 
 
 ,T cannot be — 'tis my fond heart deceiving 
 
 Would make-believe that he is romping here — 
 
 The mirthful boy gone to a brighter sphere, 
 For whom we should not, yet must needs be grieving. 
 He was our joy — a radiant gem — relieving 
 
 The darkness of our days, when care and fear 
 
 Made life the gloomy vestibule appear 
 Of Momus' temple. His rich laugh and smile 
 
 And buoyant gladness, made us almost feel 
 Like him, and laugh at trouble for the while. 
 
 But soon — Alas ! too soon. Death set his seal 
 Upon those beaming eyes and brain-full brow; 
 
 And he is gone to realms where joy is real, 
 Not to return to us — but we to him shall go ! 
 
^3 
 
 IL— i88o. 
 
 Long gone ! Yet still to me what they are not 
 Who stay behind; for they in years have grown 
 Apart from me to entities their own; 
 
 And, contemplating what they are, I wot 
 
 What once they were is buried and forgot. 
 
 But thou art childhood crystaUized — now known 
 And to be known by me as c/ii7d alone 
 
 Until we meet; when thou shalt be revealed — 
 First, as a child, I trust that I may know 
 
 The loved one long from longing eyes concealed; 
 But, recognized, then thou thyself wilt shew 
 As thou hast grown, while I in rapture glow ! 
 Yet while eternal life and love flow on 
 My heart shall cherish still the childhood of my son. 
 
 III. 
 
 Thus shall I have in thee two sons in one — 
 The child I lost, the son regained on high — 
 The same, yet vastly different; while my eye, 
 Uncheated by the slow gradations run 
 On earth, by which development is won 
 From child to man, shall oft unconsciously 
 View each apart; and, while I glorify 
 
84 
 
 Earth's treasured childhood, gladly recognize 
 
 Supernal growth, and watch its rich increase 
 In thee and me : an ever-gaining prize, 
 
 Whose growing worth and wonder ne'er shall cease, 
 But adding merit, pleasure, joy, and peace, 
 Shall ever brighter and more brightly shine 
 In light that flows from and attracts to light divine ! 
 
85 
 
 %lfl=|^mj ^muhi )ftt ^^wriatt(. 
 
 I. 
 
 M SAT before a mirror, and beheld 
 
 r What seemed myself, and to that self I said — 
 
 Could'st thou but see and read as I have read 
 This self, and be as much impelled 
 
 To study me as I now study thee, 
 And could we both our thoughts together weld, 
 
 It would, beyond all doubt, be unto me 
 
 A vast accession of the vast " to be." 
 For then should you and I most fully sympathize. 
 And each the other fairly scrutinize. 
 
 When you could tell me just exactly what I am : — 
 The fact I most intensely long to know : — 
 
 To know what truth I hold — ^what real — ^what show; 
 How much God may approve — how much condemn? 
 
86 
 
 II. 
 I turned me round and faced another scene — 
 
 Another self — one who was me and more; 
 
 More to me then than she had been before, 
 Because one claimed her then whose claim, I ween^ 
 Could I have challenged, she should not have been 
 
 The tyrant's victim, captured from the shore 
 
 To which he never will his prize restore. 
 But even then his fatal power was seen; 
 
 And thus as in a mirror I beheld 
 What I have yet to be, and what to bear, 
 
 Ere I can fully see myself, and know 
 
 As I am known, when, finally unveiled. 
 Eternal light shall glisten, yet not glare, 
 And mind shall feel itself with light aglow ! 
 
 III. 
 
 And is it really so, that I must pass 
 
 Through such drear darkness ere my soul can reach 
 The truth which one might think our God could teach 
 
 Even now unto His humble junior class? 
 
 It seems so; and although it does surpass 
 My comprehension, I shall not impeach 
 His wisdom who gives wisdom, but beseech 
 
87 
 
 His mercy not in vain to embarass 
 
 My soul with quests, whereon my soul's request. 
 
 Though e'er so anxious, may not now be given. 
 But give me rest, O God, whereon alone 
 
 My spirit's instinct whispers there is rest; 
 Till perfect peace is reached around Thy throne, 
 
 And quests bear flower and fruit in harvest heaven. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Yet I would fain, even now, know somewhat more 
 Than yet I know, or can myself discover; 
 So unto Thee, my Father, friend, and lover, 
 
 I come, and kneeling, needfully implore — 
 
 While I Thy wisdom and thy power adore — 
 
 That Thou in kindness would'st thy ways uncover. 
 
 O be not, as Thou hast been, hope in store; 
 
 A treasure-house with locked and keyless door, 
 But present help — an open dwelling-place — 
 A place of refuge, and a place of strength. 
 
 Where thine— where I — may certainly find rest 
 
 In every case of dire and dread distress : 
 Where, failing all, I may secure at length 
 All that can make my craving nature blest. 
 
88 
 
 V. 
 
 In silent watches of the slumb'rous night, 
 
 And time by time throughout the surging day, 
 Our loved ones, whom we mourn as far away. 
 
 May hover round us, though our grosser sight 
 Fails to perceive those whom we long to see. 
 
 Yet oft-times, both in darkness and in light, 
 A thrill awakes our senses, as if we 
 Were near them, and would yet desire to be 
 
 Still nearer, and to eye their eyes with ours. 
 
 Drinking the joyance of communing hours. 
 And must not such sensations needs arise 
 When soul and spirit meet and recognise 
 
 Through intervening clay, which only feels 
 
 A tremor of the truth such contact seals ? 
 
 VI. 
 
 If we believe those viewless spirits throng 
 Around us and encompass all our ways, 
 Should not this make all our nights and days 
 
 More filled with virtue, and more free from wrong ? 
 From nought we do can we exclude their gaze : 
 
89 
 
 Unseen, but seeing, they serenely glide 
 Alike into our scenes of prayer and praise. 
 
 And haunts of hell where some may sHnk aside 
 To work their wicked will — their own disgrace. 
 
 How then can we beneath their purer eyes 
 Do aught we would not dare before the face 
 
 Of kindred virtue ? — So let all pursue 
 
 Conduct the purest may be pleased to view. 
 
 VII. 
 
 Yet is it not a sweetly pleasing thought 
 
 That they should thus attend us night and noon ! 
 
 By purest souls could any higher boon, ' 
 
 Save God's own gracious guidance, e'er be sought ? 
 Keep near me, loved ones — loved one — till I swoon, 
 
 And swooning meet thee in thy new domain, 
 
 There reunited ne'er to part again. 
 Keep near, and let me know that thou art near — 
 
 No haunting ghost, but helpful guard and guide : 
 Thus shall I greet thee with no shade of fear. 
 
 Yea, even shouldst thou (as may it yet betide) 
 Display thy being and thy presence here. 
 
 Keep near, and I thy care shall recompense 
 
 By striving upward until called hence. 
 
90 
 
 ^<t«$<rlatj$tl. 
 
 C5T 
 
 HEN the summer sun is sinking 
 We may grieve the day is done^ 
 Yet we soothe our grief by thinking 
 
 There will rise another sun ; 
 While till then, through restful night, 
 We may wait the morning light. 
 
 So, when well-spent life is ending, 
 We may mourn the sunshine o'er, 
 
 Yet we know sunset is sending 
 Sunrise sure to set no more: 
 
 Thus while weepers wail in woe 
 
 Faith and Hope make morning glow. 
 
91 
 
 If SLEPT, but sleep supplied repose 
 
 To sense alone— not brain nor heart ; 
 I had but waived my waking woes 
 To dare in dreams their counterpart. 
 
 I dreamt that I, while morn was gay, 
 Went forth to breathe its balmy air: — 
 
 The glow gave place to gloom, and day 
 
 Was darkness, gleamed with lightning's glare. 
 
 I met a youth whose sunny smile 
 
 And fond embrace my spirit warmed; 
 
 But soon the smile displayed its guile. 
 And friendship fled, by frowns alarmed. 
 
 I stooped beside a crystal brook " 
 
 To drink, and bathe my burning brow: — 
 
 The crystal sheen the stream forsook. 
 And fever-fraught became the flow. 
 
92 
 
 Ripe, luscious fruit hung all around, 
 As if to soothe my soul's disgust: 
 
 I gladly plucked, but sadly found 
 The grapes were ashes — apples dust. 
 
 A sprightly band of wood-n3nmphs fair 
 Allured me with resistless charms; 
 
 I followed far, but found despair, 
 With fiends to fold me in their arms. 
 
 I reached a cross in woodland green. 
 And bent me there to humbly pray. 
 
 But mind forsook the sacred scene 
 And wildly wandered wide away. 
 
 A hoary sage, who seemed to grieve. 
 Spoke kind-like words of calm reproof: 
 
 I bowed, his blessing to receive, 
 And thus observed the cloven hoof. 
 
 I fled, nor paused while strength remained — 
 Fled far in horror, doubt, and fear. 
 
 Until a desert land I gained 
 
 Where fiend, nor man, nor God was near. 
 
93 
 
 Alone— exhausted — in the gloom, ■ 
 On sullen rock myself I threw, 
 
 And passionately prayed for room 
 To leave myself and live anew. 
 
 " No space," the wailing wind exclaimed; 
 
 " No space," the desert drear replied; 
 " No space. for life to be reclaimed: — 
 No space," by dying day was sighed. 
 
 Outcast from man, from God, from all; 
 
 With vastly quickened soul and sense, 
 I never felt myself so small, 
 
 Yet ne'er had feeling so intense. 
 
 Not one of many now, but one — 
 
 And only one, I — I alone 
 Must now be ransomed or undone, 
 
 As if no other soul were known. 
 
 A puny atom in the wide 
 
 Wild waste; yet there the only Mind! 
 Should I be proud? Ah, how could pride 
 
 In such despair existence find ? 
 
94 
 
 Yes, I had mind — a mind me thought 
 Whose upward cravings proved it kin 
 
 To highest Mind — and therefore ought 
 To be emancipate from sin ! 
 
 And if from sin, from sorrow? Yes, 
 Or then should I have strength to bear, 
 
 While sorrow would result in bliss. 
 And Faith set free from future fear. 
 
 Then, though alone, not lost. — I stood 
 And raised confiding eyes to Heaven; 
 
 Thence heard the message, " I am Good, 
 And I to thee am freely given," 
 
 Warm light awoke the desert air, 
 Unfolding now a summer scene 
 
 Of blooming verdure, rich and fair 
 As Adam's Eden may have been. 
 
 While all the rock whereon I lay 
 
 Grew soft and green with sunny moss; 
 
 And, hallowing the heart of day, 
 
 I fondly viewed a vine-wreathed cross ! 
 
 4 
 
95 
 
 I woke — awoke from dreams to day; 
 Awoke, all vain pursuits to spurn ; 
 Awoke to give myself away 
 
 To God, and get Him in return ! 
 
 I ^tu^ ifi $m\. 
 
 ^^JtHILE Death's twin sister — Life's handmaid- 
 T Had wound me in her welcome arms, 
 
 My restless spirit spurned her aid 
 
 And hied me thence for wilder charms 
 
 Through countless scenes of bygone days, 
 And scenes unseen, unknown before; 
 
 Through mist and cloud and sunny rays, 
 By sea and land, and foreign shore. 
 
 Forgotten scenes of youthful years 
 Appeared in freshness of their prime, 
 
 In sunshine bathed, bedewed with tears : 
 Past with the present wreathing rhyme ! 
 
96 
 
 But, fading these, the recent past 
 Filled up my vision-field of view. 
 
 And led me onward to my last 
 
 Farewell to earth — to friends' adieu. 
 
 The turmoils of the toilsome day, 
 Its ever mingling hopes and fears, 
 
 In crowding chaos thronged my way — 
 Enough at once for lifetime's years. 
 
 I struggled on — or rather I 
 
 Was borne bewildered through the maze. 
 Till gloom obscured the onward sky 
 
 With night enough for lifetime's days. 
 
 Appalling stillness from the dark 
 
 Hushed and dispersed the ghosts of strife. 
 While I was left alone, to hark 
 
 And stare for sight or sound of life. 
 
 O, awful silence, awful gloom ! 
 
 It seemed as if this woful earth 
 Became Despair's developed womb. 
 
 And I the babe awaiting birth. 
 
97 
 
 All senses gone, save sense alone 
 That I existed — consciousness 
 
 Of life within a rayless zone 
 
 Of darkness, death, or nothingness. 
 
 At length, from out the dark profound 
 A ghastly glimmer sembled light, 
 
 And motionless, without a sound, 
 A frightful phantom faced my sight; 
 
 The ghost of that fantastic shape 
 
 Of dead dry bones which fear has framed 
 
 To image death, and grimly ape 
 
 The king of terrors — wrongly named : 
 
 Yes, wrongly named, for I surveyed 
 The phantom fearlessly, and bore 
 
 Its threat of terror undismayed, 
 Assured my triumph lay before. 
 
 The light assumed a fuller ray, 
 
 In which the spectre's shrinking size 
 
 Looked somewhat more akin to day — 
 Less yawning mouth, less hollow eyes. 
 
98 
 
 It seemed as if its horror, hiied 
 By gloom, and only half disclosed. 
 
 Should vanish when more closely viewed, 
 In truth-revealing light exposed. 
 
 Within the vista, through the gloom, 
 Methought my eye could faintly trace 
 
 A ravished or deserted tomb, 
 
 Whence issued warm illuming rays. 
 
 Which, falling on the spectral shade, 
 Made all its loathsome outlines melt, 
 
 Its grinning ghastliness to fade 
 Behind a form where Spirit dwelt. 
 
 Dark shadows fled as from the dawn, 
 While softer lines and comely grace 
 
 Around the skeleton were drawn, 
 
 And beauty beamed in form and face. 
 
 Those resurrection rays — grave born — 
 Brighter and yet more brightly shone, 
 
 Till robes celestial were worn 
 
 By that which erst was shroudless bone; 
 
99 
 
 While amaranth and myrtle twined 
 
 A brow of alabaster pure, 
 Whence toward me fond eyes inclined, 
 
 With radiant smiles my soul to lure ! 
 
 And through the heaven-illumined tomb 
 Angelic Death showed me the way 
 
 To quit this sphere of twilight gloom, 
 And enter realms of radiant day ! 
 
 Such was my dream, and may my dream 
 Be realized when comes the time 
 
 To tread the valley, cross the stream 
 Dividing Earth from Eden's clime. 
 
lOO 
 
 ^m\. 
 
 REAT Death ! thy mighty power I own^. 
 Thy universal sway, 
 Yet will not, cannot, dare not, crown 
 Thee " King of terrors," for thy frown 
 To me brings no dismay. 
 
 Thou canst but level with the ground 
 
 This prison cell of earth 
 In which my spirit now is bound, 
 Impatient till release is found 
 
 To reach a higher birth. 
 
 So, not in terror, but delight, 
 
 I wait thy friendly stroke 
 To give me Hberty for flight. 
 To join companions in the light, 
 
 Who know no carnal yoke. 
 
lOI 
 
 And if till then, as I desire, 
 
 I strive in duty here. 
 While heavenward heart and soul aspire, 
 I know when days below expire 
 
 I have not thee to fear. 
 
 For then shalt thou in kindly guise 
 
 All ghastliness conceal, 
 And closing these, ope other eyes, 
 To suit the light of brighter skies 
 
 Which nobler aims reveal. 
 
 And thus, death-ushered to a sphere 
 
 Of fuller life than this, 
 I'll think of living, dying here, 
 As only steps that brought me near 
 
 To royal realms of bliss. 
 
 While from the height I then attain 
 
 Another still shall rise. 
 Which gaining, still another plane 
 Shall lure me onward, till I reign 
 
 With princes of the skies ! 
 
Thus sateless souls shall evermore 
 
 Find Soul's supreme employ; 
 Their present full of bliss — before, 
 An ever overflowing store — 
 To climb their highest joy ! 
 
I03 
 
 |(^$ttt^t^^Jjiri|. 
 
 ND shall it never, never be 
 
 That yon cold grave shall yield its charge? 
 No; never, never shall we see 
 Its occupants again at large; 
 When we consign our " dust to dust," 
 'Tis no " conveyance upon trust." 
 
 Then, shall our friends, whose mortal clay 
 Lies hidden 'neath the grave-yard sod, 
 
 Not meet us in the realms of day. 
 Nor visit where before they trod? 
 
 They shall, they do, but not with those 
 
 Remains to which earth gives repose. 
 
I04 
 
 The Resurrection man attains 
 
 Is not from earthly grave or tomb, 
 
 But from the death which holds its chains 
 Around us from our mother's womb : — 
 
 To rise is to be born afresh 
 
 Of Spirit, not of blood and flesh. 
 
 If " in the spirit " now we live 
 
 And walk, and keep the body under, 
 
 Death to our life shall surely give 
 New scope; and every fetter sunder 
 
 That binds us to our clogging clay. 
 
 And cast the cumbrous cloak awav ! 
 
 Yet those the spirit loved before 
 Shall after death be cherished still, 
 
 Not with affection less, but more — 
 And greater freedom, power, and will 
 
 To shew its love, and aid desire 
 
 Of kindred spirits to aspire. 
 
I05 
 
 Thus we, while striving here below, 
 With eyes intent on spirit land, 
 
 May confidently hope to know 
 
 Their presence and their helping hand; 
 
 While soon we'll pass from cloudy time 
 
 To join them in their sunny clime. 
 
 Emancipated thus, how could 
 The spirit wish again to be 
 
 Clothed in its carnal cloak and hood,- 
 Since then dehris of earth or sea? 
 
 Why should by spirits be resumed 
 
 What vilest vermin have consumed ! 
 
 Yet, somehow, from the final flame 
 In which dissolving earth shall glow 
 
 May be evolved a spirit-frame. 
 Even as sometimes a spirit now 
 
 Can gather from surrounding air 
 
 A body like to that we wear. 
 
io6 
 
 Till then " the whole creation groans 
 And travails " for the coming birth, 
 
 When all of worth that spirit owns 
 
 Shall be redeemed, and purged of earth ; 
 
 And thus shall earth, through present pain,. 
 
 A spirit-birth itself attain ! 
 
 ^L ND can it be, as some have said, 
 
 ^ That those we love and mourn as dead 
 Are really not so far away — 
 So distant from us — but they may 
 Revisit us, and guard and guide 
 Our steps, while we on earth abide ? 
 That they, while we are plodding here, 
 Roam spirit-realms which lie so near 
 That we are in them, though our eyes 
 May not our neighbours recognize; 
 Because in that ethereal clime 
 We stand like trees in winter time, 
 
I07 
 
 Insensate to the joy that breathes 
 Around us, waiting till the wreathes 
 Of winter fade before the breath 
 Of Spring, when we shall vanquish deaths 
 And wake our wondering eyes in light 
 To which our present day is night ? 
 It may be : — He who is our God 
 And theirs, although His fixed abode 
 Is highest heaven, pervades all space. 
 And has with us His dwelHng place; 
 So He in wisdom may be pleased 
 To grant to those from flesh released 
 Free liberty through space to roam. 
 Or find a temporary home 
 Among the scenes and friends of yore, 
 Seen now and known as ne'er before; 
 And thus, while I am musing here, 
 Some friendly spirit may be near 
 To aid my thoughts and guide my pen 
 To truths as yet beyond my ken. 
 
 So let it be: — my mind would fain 
 Receive the truth, and wisdom gain 
 From every source — I care not whence,. 
 So it be truth, not vain pretence. 
 
io8 
 
 Come, then, surrounding Spirits, come, 
 Declare yourselves, and give me some 
 Sure evidence that ye are here. 
 And can from out your higher sphere 
 Observe, or influence, conduct. 
 Hold converse with — perhaps instruct. 
 Those still environed with the clay 
 That shuts from us your brighter day. 
 
 We would not wish to mar your rest 
 With aught of ours that might molest 
 Your better being, yet we know — 
 At least beheve — that those who go 
 To realms of higher life above 
 Will not forget their former love; 
 And, thinking of the toilsome way 
 By which they reached the land of day, 
 They oft must strongly feel inclined 
 To aid their friends still left behind ; 
 And if they can, they needs must try 
 To draw us upward to the sky. 
 
 We also know that He who reigns 
 In earth and heaven, in mercy deigns 
 To watch us while we wander here. 
 And guide us to the higher sphere; 
 
I09 
 
 Then — while His heart and theirs agree — 
 
 While He has power, and they have will- 
 What likelier than that they should be 
 
 Employed His purpose to fulfil, 
 And bear the blessings He bestows 
 To those who on His grace repose ? 
 
 We cannot think that idle ease, 
 Or languid love, or ceaseless song, 
 
 Can souls emancipated please, 
 Or Heaven's beatitude prolong. 
 Nay; whatsoe'er the work may be, 
 The active spirit Death sets free 
 From earthly chains and slavery. 
 Must still to nobler effort rise, 
 And yield itself to high emprize. 
 The God whose never-ceasing care 
 All creatures of His empire share. 
 Who slumbers not nor sleeps, but aye 
 Exerts his power, by night and day 
 To make, to rule, to guide, sustain 
 All worlds and all that they contain, 
 Will not accept the praise of those 
 Who court inglorious repose 
 
no 
 
 In earth or heaven : all who pray, 
 And all who praise, must still display 
 The Godlike attribute which lends 
 Self-sacrifice to noble ends. 
 
 Thus, since the soul's supernal joy 
 In heaven must be its Lord's employ, 
 And human spirits must incline 
 To aid on earth the work divine, 
 What nobler purpose can command 
 The eftorts of the spirit band 
 Than to direct, encourage, train 
 Their brethren who on earth remain ; 
 To guard them from surrounding ill. 
 And aid their weakness to fulfil 
 Their earthly task, and gain the home 
 Prepared for all who overcome ! 
 
II 
 
 ^''IME was when I believed I really knew 
 
 1 The Truth — the Truth as only known to few; 
 And, though it was a part of my clear creed 
 That knowledge such as mine must needs proceed 
 From one pure source alone, yet I was vain 
 Of my pre-eminence in seeing plain 
 What unto others seemed a vast profound 
 Of mysteries, too deep for thought to sound. 
 I pitied much their darkness, nor delayed 
 Of my clear light to yield the priceless aid; 
 But when my taper, which I proudly thought 
 A brilliant torch, was raised and glared for nought, 
 I felt it strange — yea judged it could but be 
 Because those perverse souls refused to see! 
 Alas ! my self-exaggerated light 
 Failed to reveal to my contracted sight 
 That those to whose strong though untutored gaze 
 My feeble torch threw no illuming rays 
 
112 
 
 Were gazing as intently as was I 
 
 On wider zones of Truth's uncharted sky, 
 
 And seeing there what, could I then have viewed,. 
 
 Had made my wisdom's vaunting more subdued. 
 
 Since then, I humbly trust my mind has grown 
 Somewhat in wisdom, and of what is known 
 Perhaps knows somewhat more; but yet of all 
 Else I have learned, I think to know how small 
 My knowledge is — how fallible my thought — 
 Is still my richest prize, for this has brought 
 A freer entrance and more ample space 
 For Truth, as Truth, although with form and face 
 Uncouth and unexpected, it may claim 
 A place already filled, and thus proclaim 
 How much in faith we need a wiser guide 
 Than purest creeds or churches can provide. 
 
 " Have faith and question not — believe in me— 
 Nor dare to doubt the truth which I decree," 
 Declares the Church of Rome, and thus enchains 
 The soaring mind, and absolutely reigns 
 In place of God — despotic more than He — 
 The foe of freedom — save as fiends are free. 
 Alas, that souls with sense divine inspired, 
 Should e'er succumb to powers of hell, conspired 
 
113 
 
 In name of God to mar creation's plan 
 And crush the noblest attribute of man ! 
 " Walk in the good old ways," we oft are told, 
 " And shun the new, nor be so rashly bold 
 As choose a fairer, shorter, clearer path. 
 Else ye are doomed to Heaven's eternal wrath." 
 Well, if it be so, it seems vastly strange ; 
 For, as the wrecks of ancient realms I range, 
 I find the paths so varied and diverse. 
 Formed not to concentrate, but to disperse — 
 To guide to error — save all ends are true : — 
 I could not, no one could, in time pursue 
 One half their number; and which one to choose 
 I know not; but 'tis plain I must refuse 
 Far more old ways than I can ever walk — 
 And thus, " Keep in the old " is vainest talk; 
 A plea of privilege and priestly skill, 
 Which hampers thought, and bids " be great " " be still. 
 While threats of wrath must scathless pass me by, 
 So long as Truth I seek with single eye. 
 
 'Tis well indeed to keep the olden way, 
 Untempted by the new in them to stray. 
 But only when the old is proved the best 
 Or single highway to the spirit's rest; 
 
114 
 
 For when upon the old which men have trod 
 From ancient days upon their way to God, 
 Dark stages make the present pilgrim fear 
 And long for light to shew the pathway clear, 
 Should new effulgence unto him arise, 
 Must he, fanatic in his faith, despise 
 The boon, because he saw it not before 
 Or finds it unrevealed in days of yore? 
 This emanation from the source divine — 
 •The mind of man — should never rest supine 
 Either on heights by seers of old attained 
 Or those by its own earnest efforts gained. 
 Nay; centred in its very essence glow 
 The love of knowledge and desire to know. 
 Not only all already known or taught 
 But all with which futurity is fraught; 
 While He who breathed it into being pleased 
 That Mind by effort should be still released. 
 Expanded, and enabled more and more 
 To know itself and Him, with all the store 
 Of wisdom, truth, and goodness which pervade 
 His universe in mingled light and shade. 
 
 Eternity alone can measure truth. 
 And Mind is still in undeveloped youth, 
 
"5 
 
 But must advance, develop, and expand 
 
 In power and knowledge yet beyond command; 
 
 While, as it grows, it oft must cast away 
 
 What erst seemed facts — and faiths which led astray. 
 
 The altitudes whence Science now aspires 
 
 Survey the ashes of extinguished fires 
 
 Where false philosophies of former days 
 
 And faiths forgotten can no longer blaze; 
 
 Yet, from the feathered falsehoods thus consumed 
 
 Spring fairer Phoenixes with wisdom plumed, 
 
 Which, in their turn exploded, may expire 
 
 And form for others fecund flames of fire ! 
 
 Thus Truth shall shine and Wisdom's womb bestow 
 
 New heirs and heritage on man below, 
 
 While in the clearer climes to which we soar 
 
 Through endless ages we shall truth explore. 
 
ACRED 
 
 %^ ^iUtm ^i if^^^f 
 
 p, take thy son, thine only son, 
 In whom thy soul delights, 
 And get thee to a distant land — 
 
 Moriah's mountain heights; 
 And there upon a mountain top 
 
 Which I will show to thee 
 Surrender him a sacrifice 
 With willing heart to Me :— 
 
 Oft by a dark and dismal way 
 
 God brings his own to brightest day. 
 
ii8 
 
 Thus spake the Lord to Abraham, 
 
 His servant, when grown old 
 He clasped his Isaac to his heart 
 
 With love's intensest hold; 
 Yet spake not so because He wished 
 
 That thus the son should die, 
 But meaning by the strange command 
 
 The father's faith to try:— 
 
 The life of faith is dearer far 
 To God than sacrifices are. 
 
 Soon as his God's command was heard 
 
 The Patriarch arose, 
 And, rousing his beloved son 
 
 From slumber's soft repose, 
 Ere yet the sun o'er mountain tops 
 
 Had poured effulgent day. 
 With fire and wood for sacrifice. 
 
 The two were on their way : — 
 
 With active step the way is trod 
 That Faith sees pointed out by God. 
 
119 
 
 The third day's sun saw Abraham 
 
 Ascend Moriah's hill, 
 There build his altar, bind his son, 
 
 And raise the knife to kill; 
 One moment, and the father's hand 
 
 Shall strike the fatal blow. 
 And Isaac's life-blood from his heart 
 
 Upon the altar flow : — 
 
 So Justice ever holds the sword 
 O'er all who do not know the Lord. 
 
 But stay ! God's altar never can 
 
 With human blood be stained ; 
 Without the dreadful sacrifice 
 
 The trial's end is gained 
 And Abr'ham's faith triumphant stands. 
 
 Its righteousness displayed 
 By this severe command of God, 
 
 So readily obeyed : — 
 
 Thus faith by active works is shown 
 To sway the sceptre, hold the throne. 
 
I20 
 
 A voice from heaven th' impending stroke 
 
 Suspends, and stays the arm; 
 Relieves the father's breaking heart, 
 
 And shields the son from harm : 
 Then testifies that Abr'ham's faith 
 
 His God has satisfied,^, 
 Since thus unfailing it had stood 
 
 When so severely tried ! 
 
 When God his people trial sends 
 His mercy sure will make amends. 
 
 A ram within a thicket caught 
 
 Soon on the altar dies; 
 And then from father and from son 
 
 Joint prayer and praise arise : 
 In adoration deeper far 
 
 Than e'er before they knew. 
 They bow before Jehovah's shrine, 
 
 And yield the homage due : — 
 
 How blest when thus th' afflicting rod. 
 With mercy joined, brings near to God! 
 
121 
 
 The secret of the Lord is with 
 
 Such as do fear his name/' 
 Then who can tell what Abr'ham saw 
 
 Beneath that altar's flame? 
 Perhaps, beyond far distant years 
 
 He saw Mount Calv'r/s gloom, 
 And in the substituted ram 
 
 Beheld our Surety's doom : — 
 
 We cannot tell what light he had. 
 But 'twas enough to make him glad. 
 
 While in his fellow-worshipper 
 
 Perhaps his faith could see 
 Another " promised seed," when thus 
 
 From vengeance due set free. 
 By freedom's freshest impulse brought 
 
 To penetrate the skies 
 With prayers perfumed with incense from 
 
 Their Surety's sacrifice : — 
 
 Thus, by a new and living way 
 The soul renewed is taught to pray. 
 
122 
 
 O Abraham, thou friend of God, 
 
 What honour thou hast won 
 By thus, in faith unwavering, 
 
 Delivering up thy son ! 
 Most honoured 'mong his honoured ones 
 
 Thy God hath placed thy name ; 
 As "Father of the faithful" seed 
 
 The Church resounds thy fame : — 
 
 The humblest deed of faith and love 
 Must have its full reward above. 
 
 Behold, my soul; what wondrous power 
 
 Resides in faith divine ! 
 And mark that faith, and faith alone. 
 
 Can make salvation thine; 
 By it we grasp and hold the hand 
 
 Which sovereign grace supplies 
 To save the sinner from his sins 
 
 And heavenward turn his eyes : — 
 
 To me, O may that grace be given. 
 That I may rise from earth to heaven !: 
 
123 
 
 |*tlfd |t9tifit. 
 
 NCE, when this old world was young, 
 Heaven and earth adjacent stood ; 
 Angel harps on earth were strung, 
 Angels joined with man and sung 
 Joyous songs of brotherhood. 
 
 God the Lord in kindness bowed 
 Blissful hours on earth to spend; 
 
 Holy God in man's abode — 
 
 Holy man with holy God — 
 Walked and talked as friend with friend. 
 
 But, alas, not long endured 
 
 Eden's happiness divine; 
 Soon transgression's gloom obscured 
 Heaven's own light, and man immured 
 
 Where no radiance could shine. 
 
124 
 
 Hapless Earth ! cut off from Heaven ! 
 
 No approach for man to God, 
 Into misery, sin-driven — 
 Yet one ray of hope was given 
 
 To relieve the dreadful load. 
 
 J 
 Not again could God appear 
 
 On the Earth, His son to own; 
 Human power could never rear 
 Means to reach the angels' sphere, 
 
 Yet could Love let mercy down. 
 
 Heaven-ward could no stair arise. 
 
 But from Heaven might one descend; 
 
 All unseen by mortal eyes 
 
 Mercy's ladder left the skies, 
 Satan's breach again to mend. 
 
 Thus could Bethel's sleeper trace 
 Where his wisdom could but grope. 
 
 Angel messengers of grace 
 
 Freely traversing the space 
 
 'Twixt his sorrow and his hope. 
 
125 
 
 So may I, O Gracious God, 
 Ever on Thy mercy stay, 
 And through Faith behold the road 
 Joining mine with thy abode — 
 Even Him who is " the Way." ' 
 
126 
 
 ^If^ ^ut^ 0f '^mU. 
 
 ,UT of Egypt, through the sea, 
 Ransomed Israel safely trod; 
 Camped by Sinai, there to be 
 Taught the duty of the free 
 
 To obey their sovereign God; 
 For the fullest freedom flows 
 Freest where true worship bows. 
 
 Thus instructed, though untrained, 
 Canaan-ward they took their way 
 
 Till the border land they gained 
 
 And at Kadish they remained 
 
 While their spies should make survey : 
 
 Faith was weak, and thus they tried 
 
 Whether God their Lord had lied? 
 
127 
 
 Woful then became their plight, 
 
 For the spies brought evil news : — 
 There, they said, are men of might 
 "Far too strong for us to fight. 
 So the land we must refuse : 
 Foolish people, thus to scorn 
 What their God had said and sworn ! 
 
 Yet how many, young and old. 
 
 With our Canaan in their eyes, 
 Fail for want of faith to hold 
 •God's own promise and be bold 
 To secure the priceless prize: 
 Jesus once was sore distressed 
 'Over one " not far " from rest. 
 
 Banished then by God's command 
 In the wilderness to pine, 
 
 -Ne'er to reach their promised land, 
 
 But to die on desert sand 
 
 Where no ray of hope could shine; 
 
 Victims of their doubts and fears 
 
 Doomed to unavailing tears. 
 
128 
 
 Ah, what lamentations rose 
 
 When their doom was realized! 
 Deepest of all human woes 
 Is their fate who feel the throes 
 
 Of remorse for grace despised; 
 Outcasts, though of Canaan heirs i 
 Lost, with Canaan all but theirs ! 
 
 Hear those youths in deep distress 
 Questioning with bated breath — 
 Were we twenty — were we less — 
 When we spumed Jehovah's grace 
 
 And entailed this doom of death? 
 Careful counting theirs I ween 
 Of the birthdays they had seen. 
 
 Thus let us our days and years 
 
 Count with care, and wisdom learn,. 
 So that Faith may banish fears, 
 Heal our sorrows, dry our tears, 
 
 And eternal blessings earn : 
 They their birth could not gainsay — 
 We may each be born to-day. 
 
129 
 
 HE path I trod was dark and drear, 
 I could not see nor feel my way ; 
 My heart was overcome with fear, 
 I could not even dare to pray: 
 " I am the Way," the Saviour cried. 
 And then my journey's end I spied. 
 
 Dark doubts arose like mountains vast; 
 
 My soul found nought wherein to trust; 
 In Death's dark valley Faith was cast, 
 
 And Hope was writhing in the dust : 
 *' I am the Truth," He spake again. 
 And darkest mysteries were plain. 
 
 Will this new life remain, I said. 
 Or is it but a passing breath ? 
 I knew, for me, it soon should fade 
 And leave my soul again in death : 
 " I am the Life," I heard Him call, 
 
 And then to Him I trusted all ! 
 
 I 
 
130 
 
 ^ mi ^la tm {««((/* 
 
 GOD of wisdom, God of love, 
 With Thee I plead in earnest prayer, 
 Look from Thy throne of light above 
 
 On me Thy creature crushed with care: 
 I cannot see Thee here below, 
 I know Thee not, but fain would know. 
 
 My soul is dark though wildering light 
 Is glaring round me far and near; 
 
 It but reveals how deep the night 
 Must be till living light appear : 
 
 God, I pray Thee to outshine 
 Those glaring lights with light divine. 
 
 Once from the Book which I believed 
 To be Thy written word to me 
 
 1 thought my spirit had received 
 
 Thy light in which to clearly see; 
 But now thick clouds obscure my sky, 
 Or growing blindness dims my eye ! 
 
131 
 
 O thou who art the Word, the Light, 
 The Way, the Truth, the Life, the All, 
 
 Behold my soul's perplexing plight. 
 And let Thy love in mercy call; 
 
 Call loud that I to Thee may flee, 
 
 And find my living God in thee. 
 
 ^$ptt»t^. 
 
 FOR some potent potion sure 
 This vile old self to slay^ 
 For death, and death alone, can cure 
 The grievous ills I now endure 
 And cause from day to day; 
 Wherefore my better nature sighs, 
 And sighing seeks serener skies. 
 
132 
 
 For dying I would death deride, 
 
 As in autumnal days 
 The caterpillar crawls aside 
 In torpor's chrysalis to hide 
 
 Till genial summer rays 
 Allure the butterfly to flight — 
 A thing of beauty, life, and light ! 
 
 The old man thus would I desire 
 
 To lay in Death's embrace, 
 That from his ashes may aspire 
 The new, exhaled by heavenly fire, 
 
 And vivified by grace : — 
 A being not akin to clay, 
 But spirit-born to brighten day! 
 
^33 
 
 m% 
 
 ,UT of the darkness my spirit surrounding 
 Still I shall cry, though my crying be faint; 
 While I can hear of Thy mercy abounding 
 Thou must be able to hear my complaint. 
 
 Shadows of sin, like the smoke of the city, 
 Will not permit me Thy face to behold ; 
 
 O may the breath of Thy Spirit in pity 
 Scatter the cloud, and Thy glory unfold! 
 
 Then shall I rise in the light of the morning 
 Fresh for the toils and the trials of day; 
 
 Ease and indulgence exultingly scorning — 
 Fearing no foe that can come in my way ! 
 
 Thus while I sing. Faith and Hope seem combining 
 Light to bestow, and my darkness dispel; 
 
 Now I can see the dark cloud's silver lining, 
 Why should I longer in shadowland dwell ? 
 
134 
 
 |(^$ip»j^. 
 
 GOD, we know it were not good 
 Our wishes all should be supplied; 
 Our needs by Thee are understood, 
 Then " as Thou wilt"— not as we would, 
 
 Give Thou, and we are satisfied : 
 We cannot doubt Thy will is best, 
 And there in perfect trust we rest. 
 
 But one thing, Lord, we do entreat — 
 
 That Thou wouldst shew the answer thine; 
 
 If given by Thee we'll know it meet; — 
 
 Enough to make content complete. 
 And bid our hearts no more repine : 
 
 Child-like, O Lord, we wish to be ; 
 
 But child-like, would our Father see. 
 
135 
 
 O Jesus, thou canst sympathize 
 
 With this our wish, for Thou hast known 
 The dreadful darkness of the skies 
 When He is hidden from our eyes 
 
 And we feel fainting all alone; — 
 Then Jesus, shew thyself, and we 
 Shall see the Father's face in Thee ! 
 
 O Holy Spirit, dove divine. 
 
 Breathe buoyant Hfe on drooping hearts; 
 Let Thy illumination shine, 
 And Godward all our eyes inchne 
 
 To greet the joy Thy smile imparts; 
 Then farewell darkness, doubts, and fears, — 
 We know them not when He appears ! 
 
136 
 
 um 
 
 %ESUS wept. My soul, be still, 
 
 T And calmly view Immanuers tears : 
 
 Each drop a mystery to fill 
 
 Thy thoughts through never-ending years ; 
 Behold the God-Man groaning, weeping 
 O'er him He loved, so soundly sleeping. 
 
 Jesus wept. O wondrous tear^ ! 
 
 The rarest pearls our earth has known ! 
 In these more glorious light appears 
 
 Than earthly gems have ever shown ! 
 Each drop in countless dazzling rays 
 God's love to human kind displays. 
 
137 
 
 Jesus wept. Why did He weep ? 
 
 Was it that Lazarus was dead ? 
 No; with the sisters' grief so deep 
 
 ImmanueFs heart in concert bled: 
 He saw their tears, He heard their moans, 
 And wept with sympathetic groans. 
 
 Jesus wept. Each starry tear 
 That fell from those celestial eyes 
 
 Seals unto men a truth most dear : — 
 That Christ our Lord can sympathize 
 
 With every human grief. For why? 
 
 His was most true humanity. 
 
 Jesus wept. O blessed rain, 
 
 Distilled from that dark cloud of sorrow ! 
 By it refreshed, our world again 
 
 Looks forward to a bright to-morrow : 
 The God who wept with human grief 
 Must to the sufferer send relief. 
 
138 
 
 Jesus wept, — and Jesus died : 
 
 His death brought ransom to His own ; 
 But when at Lazarus' grave He cried, 
 
 More human tenderness was shewn: 
 His tomb His depth of love displayed ; 
 This grave its wondrous breadth portrayed. 
 
 '' ^I}^t^4 Mi Jft^a 
 
 mm. 
 
 HE Lord of life, of life bereft, 
 Within the tomb in darkness left; 
 Omnipotence impotent made — 
 Companion of the helpless dead; 
 Creation's God laid low in death 
 Like one of merely human breath. 
 Astounding mystery — He Hes 
 As if He could no more arise ! 
 The greatest wonder earth can shew — 
 What can it mean — How can we know? 
 Some purpose vast alone could doom 
 The Lord of glory to the tomb. 
 
139 
 
 Ah, He was nailed upon the tree 
 And died to purchase life for me. 
 He lay within the womb of earth 
 That I might have a second birth. 
 Then life I claim, since He hath died,— 
 A claim that will not be denied; 
 For He who was for sinners slain 
 Craves full reward for all his pain, 
 And mourns to see one sinner lose 
 The glory which His grace bestows. 
 Then, Jesus, take and make me Thine^ 
 And fill me with Thy love divine. 
 
140 
 
 HE stone is moved, I know not how; 
 I look within and clearly see 
 The grave is empty, and a glow 
 Of light divine appears to me ! 
 Nor do I wonder He has fled : 
 My wonder was to see Him dead. 
 
 The grave is empty, but the world 
 And heaven itself are filled with life. 
 
 Defeated Death to doom is hurled 
 
 And vanquished, quits the scene of strife: 
 
 The Lord is risen, and with Him rise 
 
 All who accept His sacrifice ! 
 
 I view the place where Jesus lay, 
 
 And praise His name who thence arose, 
 
 Transforming Earth's dark night to day 
 Where grace abounds and glory grows ! 
 
 gloomy grave, by Jesus blest, 
 
 1 long through thee to reach my rest ! 
 
141 
 
 i^t Id ilim mi u im u ^^ti^mu*' 
 
 fROM God's city, now rejected, 
 Twelve fond friends pass through the gate. 
 All, save one, appear dejected. 
 
 As if doubtful of their fate : 
 He to whom their hearts are glowing 
 Now they fear from them is going. 
 
 Kedron-ward behold them walking. 
 
 All intently hearing one. 
 He of cheerful mein is talking :^ 
 
 Soft and sweet his accents run. 
 How could they endure to lose Him ? 
 Let him answer who best knows Him. 
 
142 
 
 O'er the brook — the path ascending — 
 
 Lone Gethsemane they greet; 
 Towards Bethany then wending 
 
 Whence loved friends approach and meet ; 
 They had fondly loved each other — 
 He, those sisters and their brother. 
 
 Up the hill they climb together 
 Through the olives to its brow, 
 
 Hoping, doubting, wondering whither 
 He their Leader led them now; 
 
 Not assured, but sadly fearing 
 
 Now their last farewell was nearing. 
 
 For his face bore an expression 
 They had never seen before; 
 
 Something causing sad impression 
 They should see Him Httle more. 
 
 Which impelled them to keep near Him 
 
 While they yet might see and hear Him. 
 
143 
 
 And as higher He ascended 
 That expression stronger grew; 
 
 Heavenly Hght and love seemed blended 
 With the features that they knew : 
 
 Moses-like, but less repelling — 
 
 Not of Law but Gospel telling; 
 
 Till, upon the summit resting, 
 So celestial He had grown, 
 
 Royal robes were seen investing 
 Jesus for His kingly throne: 
 
 Glory from within was greeting 
 
 Equal glory it was meeting! 
 
 Promising, instructing, blessing. 
 In fond words intensely kind; 
 
 Banishing all thoughts distressing 
 From the hearts He left behind; 
 
 Lo, he said, though now we sever, 
 I am really with you ever ! 
 
144 
 
 Then while looking loath at leaving, 
 Though the higher realms He chose; 
 
 Dropping smiles to soothe the grieving, 
 Heavenward, homeward He arose, 
 
 And beyond a cloud in glory 
 
 Closed His wondrous earthly story 1 
 
145 
 
 ^m ^^tW "^ml 
 
 tAIR Earth, thy beauties I admire, 
 And fondly sing their praise. 
 But still my heart and soul aspire 
 
 On fairer scenes to gaze : 
 Scenes fairer as the noon of day 
 Outshines the morning's dawnmg ray I 
 
 Thy Spring is beautiful indeed — 
 Superb thy Summer flowers — 
 
 But yon bright land to which I speed 
 Requires no vernal showers : 
 
 Its Spring can never pass away, 
 
 Its Summer flowers can ne'er decay ! 
 
146 
 
 I dearly love thy mountain lakes, 
 Thy rivers, brooks, and streams; 
 
 But when above my soul awakes 
 From this the land of dreams, 
 
 With saints and seraphs me to guide, 
 
 I'll wander by Life's river side ! 
 
 I deeply love thy ocean blue — 
 In calm or tempest- wrought; 
 
 But as the tiny drop of dew 
 Compared with it is nought, 
 
 So must yon sea of molten glass 
 
 Its greatest grandeur far surpass ! 
 
147 
 
 ^m t^tw 
 
 THOU, Omnipotence divine, 
 Prime source, sustainer, ruler, guide 
 Of all the orbs in heaven that shine — 
 
 All creatures that on earth abide, 
 We bow before our Father's throne — 
 Thy children, Lord, be pleased to own. 
 
 Our Father, help us each to feel 
 The boundless bliss that name implies; 
 
 All present good, eternal weal, 
 
 A home with Thee beyond the skies ! 
 
 O gracious Father, we would be 
 
 Thine, only Thine, and live for Thee. 
 
148 
 
 We mourn, O Lord, the multitudes 
 
 Who through Thy world in darkness plod; 
 
 On whose dull hearts no thought intrudes 
 Of thee, their Father and their God : 
 
 These wandering waifs, O Lord reclaim, 
 
 And make them yet revere Thy name. 
 
 Creator, universal Lord, 
 
 Have mercy on our rebel race 
 
 And bid our nature be restored : — 
 Proclaim the kingdom of Thy grace 
 
 Till every heart and every knee 
 
 In homage bow alone to Thee. 
 
 And in that kingdom let there reign 
 One King, one law — Thy will divine; 
 
 Let earth resemble heaven again 
 
 And love make all Thy will be done; 
 
 Each souFs ambition realized 
 
 When self to Thee is sacrificed. 
 
149 
 
 Lord, for Thy glory thus we pray, 
 And gladly toil this end to gain ; 
 
 To yield what furtherance we may, 
 O Lord do Thou our lives sustain : 
 
 Give daily bread, that we may give 
 
 Thee daily service while we live. 
 
 Yet, gracious Father, Thou dost know 
 Our weakness even with Thy grace; 
 
 How oft aside from Thee we go. 
 How oft Thy holy law transgress; 
 
 Forgive us. Lord, those debts to Thee, 
 
 As we give others pardon free. 
 
 And lead us, Lord, each day and hour 
 By paths most pleasing unto Thee; 
 
 Far from temptation's subtle power. 
 And from all evil keep us free; 
 
 Withdraw not. Lord, thy guiding hand, 
 
 Till safe within Thy home we stand. 
 
150 
 
 Ah, Father, Lord, how much we want T 
 But we delight to be so poor, 
 
 That boundless riches Thou ma/st grant 
 From out Thine own exhaustless store: 
 
 Then, kingdom, power, and glory we 
 
 Ascribe, and say, " So let it be." 
 

 
; 1 
 
 i ; 
 
 
 J (