UC-NRLF 27 bSS LIBRARY OJ^ THK UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA. Accession No. . Cla&s No. Sample t5ook PROPERTY OF THE HlCKS=JUDD CO. 23 FIRST STREET __ _ SAN FRANCISCO POEMS BY JOSIE T. H ATM AN Everything comes and goes. To-day in joy, to-morrow in sorrow. We advance, we retreat, we struggle ; then the eternal and profound silence of death ! " VICTOR HUGO. SAN FRANCISCO 1893 rwji ^ SRSITY ft 11 MAY. COME where the pure heart of Nature is singing Praises to God. Come where the woodland glades peans are ringing Where on the sod What the sweet flowers are whispering together, Low, oh, so low, Only the sunbeams and dew-covered heather Ever may know. Come where the lily, its blue heart unfolding, Scents all the air; Where the bright buttercup, sunlight beholding, Catches its glare. May, crowned with beauty, trips light over the meadow, Valley and hill, Scattering her emblems in sun and in shadow. Laugh, happy rill; Revel, O May, in your innocent pleasure; Carol, yon bird; Echo, my heart, and "rejoice in great measure" ! Love hath averred MA Y. That while her life lasts he ll shower his kisses Warm on her lips Eager and ardent, those soul-thrilling blisses. Now, while he sips Rapturous nectar from violet glances, Till a warm blush Glowing in roses her beauty enhances. Come, see the flush Love gave her beautiful face in his ardor; Bid cares adieu : Come, see the fair one, whom Love s heart doth harbor, And worship her too. NATURE. NATURE. VAIN, vain my words, they cannot tell The secret charms of this wild dell; They cannot paint the flower-fringed rill, And the sound of wild birds as they bill And coo, and trill their merry lays. Nor can they paint the sunset rays Falling aslant the dusky leaves, Where the nymph of fancy weaves Her frail and fairy web of dreams; Nor the evening star that gleams On the breast of the western sky; Nor trembling breezes as they sigh, Sigh in mad, ecstatic bliss, When the limpid lake they kiss; Nor the silvery shafts of the moon, Glancing through the forest gloom, Till light and shadow seem to be Holding a witch-like revelry, Till dawn s messengers appear Over the hill tops, making clear Morning s undisputed way, Now midnight has lost her sway. Nor can they sing the matin song That through the templed grove rings long NATURE. In honor to the Goddess Dawn. As glistening dew-drops on the lawn Vanish beneath the sun s warm ray, So vanishes each word away, Each poor, weak word that would express The depths of Nature s loveliness, Beneath her warm and genial rays That set my heart and soul ablaze. And as the shell that once had lain Amid the treasures of the main, So faintly, faintly, evermore, Seems echoing to its distant roar; So ever in me, echo there, Nature s voicings grand and rare. EARTH S JUBILEE. EARTH S JUBILEE. EARTH holds her jubilee, In haunts secluded, in dusk ravine, O erhung by lichened rocks; Light clouds, in snowy flocks, Floating in nether air, half way between Faint blue and towering tree. A thousand tinkling rills Spray diamond drops on moss and feathery frond, Leap with exultant bounds And rush of swelling sounds The precipice, while dizzy depths respond And echoing ether thrills. The roses high carnival hold, And dainty missiles far and near Send fluttering to the ground. While with gay, playful bound And many a caper queer, The fickle wind, advancing bold, Casts an admiring glance At even the lily chaste. The peony blushes red, And trembling fuchsias thrill, As kissing them, with reckless haste, He hurries on to join the dance 8 EARTH S JUBILEE. Of leaflets green in the elm-tree bower. Now, tired, he rests awhile On shaded fountain s mossy brim, Till seized by other whim, He s off where gaudy poppies smile, And sunbeams drip in golden shower. Then through the ivy, singing low A song so weirdly sad, So fraught with memory s dreams, Half pain, half sunny gleams That all the tendrils shake with mad, Reproachful dreams of long ago. Then lightly, light, on buoyant wings He dances to buttercup valley, Where he sinks to sleep, In the yellow deep; While about him quaint slumber nymphs dally, And the brooklet its lullaby sings. The roses high carnival hold, They are playing at hide-and-seek, With most bewitching smiles, Dimples, with coaxing wiles, Sport on each damask cheek; Through a tangle of fluffiest gold, Through portals of violet hue, Whirls the spirit of youth, half wild With infinite gladness, With joy almost madness. EARTH S JUBILEE. 9 Straight from the heart of a child. It revels and romps with bits of blue Dropped from the heavens and growing here, Tenderly reared by thoughts of love The flowers of childhood. In life s tangled wild wood. Then soft as the notes of a dove, It enters a woman s soul; It sings a song so low, So fraught with memory s dreams, Half pain, half sunny gleams, That all her heart-beats quiver with mad, Reproachful thoughts of long ago. Then lightly, light, on buoyant wings, It is off to mother-love valley, And sinks to rest On a love-warm breast; While about it quaint slumber nymphs dally, And a mother her lullaby sings. 10 TO THE MEADOW LARK. TO THE MEADOW LARK. SCARCE can the eyes thy quiet form discover, Plain, unpretentious child of song; No tropic flames upon thy plumage hover, Nor liquid floods of music throng From thy brown throat; yet, modest bird, to me Those tones have grown so dear, so dear, Not Philomel herself could rival thee. Forests through whose rank, luxuriant growth, Ceaseless flows the Amazon; Scenes that dumb waters e en to leave are loath, So strange they are to look upon; Pale, moonlit bowers, where list ning lover s looks Tell sweeter tales than e er were writ in books. These, homely bird, are not thy provinces The morning star, in far-off distance, hears From meadows wet with dew thy cadences. And when the sun s last vassal disappears, Attired in gorgeous panoply of state, In abdication of his throne, To the dark queen of starry zone, Through the dim twilight rings thy song, " Oh, wait." TO THE MEADOW LARK. 11 The night hath charms as great as golden day s. Her worshipers most kindly she repays ! The day will reign again! And in the meadows sere, With courage failing not, your song. I hear, Bidding the frail despondent hearts of men Be strong and wait: "The spring will come again." 12 APRIL S PROMISE. APRIL S PROMISE. THE pensive stillness of this April morn, With murmuring winds, low-sighing, faint, And sunshine through the mist forlorn, Seems on my dreaming soul to paint A glowing promise filled with gleams Of summer s gorgeous mellow tints, When earth will bask in June s warm beams, In lieu of April s fleeting hints. Into a world of loveliness The budding forest soon will swell; Earth s heart the warm south winds caress; The song bird to his mate will tell In airy melody his love; The flashing rivulet reflect In its clear depths the blue above, A sapphire sky with light clouds flecked. JUNE AND THE ROSE. 13 JUNE AND THE ROSE. JUNE said unto a rose one day : 11 What if I held you not so warm, Warm in my arms till I nursed you to life, What would you do, my rose-bud, pray ? " The rose smiled up into June s fair face : " June, would you have no fear, no qualm, If the rose-buds were dead, with your sunshine rife ? " Let him who will the lesson trace. 14 SUNBEAMS. SUNBEAMS. SUNBEAMS, I fear you are lazy; You are sleeping everywhere On the purple mountains hazy, On my dear one s soft brown hair. Your golden heads you pillow On the breast of the rippling sea, On each gently rocking billow That beareth my love and me. You re asleep in each leafy hollow That deep in the woodland lies, On the wings of the skimming swallow, In the depths of my loved one s eyes. Delicious, lazy, sunbeams, In the shadow of clouds you may hide; But my heart will be filled with your day-dreams, With my loved one by my side. RAIN SONG. 15 RAIN SONG. THE tiny drops come pattering, Come pattering on the pane, And gently, oh, how gently, Begins the silver rain To fall upon the poor dead flowers; While on the drooping trees, No more is heard the song of bird, Or busy hum of bees. Now listen, little children, To what the raindrops say, As on the roof they patter Throughout the livelong day: They say that though the flowers Have faded long ago, Their colors all will shine again Upon the bright rainbow. 16 SUNSET. SUNSET. DAYLIGHT is shifting the sunset scenes Tween mosques with shadowy minarets; A. grove of palm trees intervenes, And golden founts shoot iridescent jets, While thrills the grand reverberation Of Nature s orchestra, the ocean. Through heaven s spacious vaults, rare, richly fret In arabesque, and with bright jewels set, Sudden the flaming Orient fades ! No flash from footlight or from chandeliers A dusky gloom the vast concave pervades And settles sombre on the mountain tiers, The while full, resonant concords rise, As echoing chord to chord replies, Wave upon wave, tumultuous, sublime, Beating in grandeur on the sands of time. Then silence deeper than the deep, the while A pallid amber glow the gloom suffuses; Fair angel faces, in resplendence smile, And meditation in the foreground muses- Vanishing slowly, while the seas adore The skies, and all their souls outpour, Floating majestic heavenward, and then, Softer than sleep, " Peace and good- will toward men." i TY THE WIND S SONG TO THE FOREST. 17 THE WIND S SONG TO THE FOREST. How SWEET, sighed the breeze, As it roamed through the trees, How sweet is the fragrance you breathe! I have sailed distant seas, Sipped all joys they bequeath, And found never one sweet as these. Oh! would I might stay Where the cataract s spray Bejewels the delicate fern; Rest where boughs swing and sway, And flowers glow and burn, But I must away, must away, 18 THE RAINDROP AND THE SEED. THE RAINDROP AND THE SEED. A TINY seed and a raindrop lay Beside the road, one wintry day. The sun, through a cloud rift, an arrow of light, Shot straight on the drop, till it shone so bright That the seed grew jealous and wished to be Hid away where no eye might see. No sooner thought, than a passer-by, Unheeding the drop or its neighbor nigh, Stepped on the seed, which sank from sight In the dark, damp earth, from the gay sunlight, How hot it became in its new-found bed ! Its throat grew parched, and its poor little head Ached, till the raindrop it envied so Took pity upon it and struggled slow With its feeble strength to its suffering friend, That it might some happy assistance lend. Ah, then the heart of the little seed Knew that this was its friend indeed; And swelling with gratitude and regret, Vowed that it never would forget Its friend, and the lesson learned that day. THE RAINDROP AND THE SEED. 19 And that is the reason why, I dare say, That, long years after, upon that road Stood a beautiful tree, the loved abode Of songsters, yielding a grateful shade To the weary passer, and scenting the air With its fragrant blossoms passing fair. And that is the reason it trembles so, When the winds of winter rustle low, And raindrops sparkle upon its leaves. I think tis a spell that remembrance weaves, A tremulous thought of a winter day, When a drop and a seed on the roadside lay. 20 MORNING FINE. MORNING FINE. THROUGH the open window stealing, Comes morn s balmy breeze; Wanders o er the chords of feeling; Wakes soul melodies; Fans the fires of hope to stronger Action in my breast; Bids doubt s fears disturb no longer Feelings of sweet rest; Whispers that wild flowers are blowing Near the sunny streams; Whispers that all life is glowing Neath morn s dewy gleams. Though the pulse of spring is beating High within the land, Time, the conqueror, is fleeting. By his mighty hand All things change, the bud, the flower, Blossoms fade and die; Trees of spring their heads will cower Neath a wintry sky. Though the warm blood swiftly courses Through the youthful vein, MORNING FINE. 21 Use the heart s and mind s resources, Ere their powers wane. Though your life be in its dawning, Time is flying fast; Noontide must succeed the morning Sunset comes at last. 22 TWILIGHT. TWILIGHT. Now Twilight, fair-haired sister of the night, Who comes from heaven s sunset gate, Shedding o er earth a pure, ethereal light, Enjoys her brief yet happy state. Slow music stealing thro the cloistered aisles, Breathing a soulful melody, Till distant gleamings of an angel s smiles Seem mingled with its harmony. And for a moment brief the meek-eyed Peace, With countenance divinely calm, Bids all my raging passions cease, Yields discontent itself a balm. THE WIND. 23 THE WIND. LIST to the sweeping raiments of the wind! Follow her, heart of mine, and leave behind All grosser element. While through the clouds, the misty morn shines soft O er daisied field and sprinkled rose-hedge croft. Where graceful pendants of the wild-grape vine The gnarled boughs of the twisted oak entwine; Rest on the lily s heart, Where, on the shifting shadows of the pond, In dripping coolness floats the fringing frond. Creep o er some lonely thicket tangled grown, Where shrouded echoes from some ocean s cave Faint on the white-brier rose. Would, ere the morning flames the eastern sky, W f ith the night wind, this heart of mine might die! 24 SPRING. SPRING. BARE branches trace an airy network on the sky; The faint-heard sea-gull vents its shrill, peculiar cry, Then slowly wheels and darts o er waters blue; Soft green Of shadowy outlined hills, through misty sheen, Browns and golden gleams that imperceptibly, Threading through silvery furze and darker wooded tree, Dissolve in purple distance. Breezes wandering by, In praises of the blue-eyed violets vie. Deep in the scented grasses, low I hear Voices of coming wild flowers, sweet and clear. It is a happy time, a time when Nature s heart Flutters, it scarce knows why; When all her pulses start, With new delicious life, before her vows Are writ in flowers of love on stems and leafy boughs. Tis girlhood in the gracious light of love unspoke Yet felt the strange, mysterious ecstasy awoke In the rapt poet s soul before his theme is born! Prayer absorbing, earnest, deep, where heavenly visions dawn. LAZINESS. 25 LAZINESS. A FADING glory of mellow rays Burnishing the sea-gull s throat, The slack sails of fishers boats, And meads where soft-eyed cattle graze; Children romping on the shingly beach, A roistering, rollicking band, Building their castles of sand. And mocking the sea-fowl s screech; From marsh of pennywort and marigold Commingled odors; from the brine Inspiring draughts; sweet breath of kine, And faint moist smell of upturned mould; All in lazy, mystic splendor Of a summer afternoon, Happy, and careless, half buried in a dune, Blest laziness, to thee my thanks I render. 26 MORNING NEAR THE WILLAMETTE. MORNING NEAR THE WILLAMETTE. [JUNE, 1891.] LOCUST blossoms, fluttering to the ground, Across the long, low stretch of dewy leas; Clear on the moist, cool air there comes the sound Of lowing cattle, standing with their knees Hid deep in clover; While the bee, the rover, Flits from the wild rose in the hedge To the lupine on the river s edge. The river s murmurings soft Are echoing high aloft In the redwoods and the poplars tall; While, filled with a mysterious ecstasy, From drooping willows floats a twittering call, And the lark pours forth his airy rhapsody. There stand great oak-trees bold, Stand with their legends old Of the dead warriors slumbering at their feet, Where the pure-e}^ed and white-souled marguerite Grows on their lonely graves; While the Willamette laves Its edges. Hark! the low and pleasant whir Of the mill-wheel, mingling with the village bells. Deep and quiet chords of feeling stir Within me, and my heart with music swells. GLIMPSES. 27 GLIMPSES. [YOSEMITE, 1892.] SEE you the butterflies, like flowers, their petals blue and gold unfolding, Poising on creamy bells, pink buds, and scarlet runners; holding The honeyed sweets of summer heats, and wanton morning dewdrops sipping, All too short-lived, yet all happy, through the clovered purple slipping ? Sunbeams in soft rainbow scarfs, enchanters daz- zlingly upheaping Spells of sard and emerald on foam of water diz zily down-leaping, And liquid whirls of snowy pearls Ah, these are love s all tender greetings, that o er my heart s torrent playing, Turn its poor drops into jewels with the glamour of their swaying. Mark you the clear lake mirroring, and wood- notes through green arbors trembling; Bowlders, mossy grown, and sighing pines, soft clouds in heaven resembling The mystic lyres of forest choirs ? OF THR DIVERSITY 28 GLIMPSES. Thus on my open soul when summer s wondrous radiance is streaming Always the image of Nature fair upon its waters still is gleaming. THE MERCED. 29 THE MERCED. [YOSEMITE.] FROM the eternal purity of heaven-piercing peaks, a flood of water froths its rocky path; Holding aloft its banners of the wood, it spurns with feet impatient the granite barriers wrath, Shouting with lusty strength of youth, while mighty inspirations leap from high to swell the current of its lucid soul, "Jehovah." Azalia in adoration bends and sends a prayer on perfume s wings, and the grave wind responds, "Amen." Ever its goal Before, the river hurries on till, listening to the alder s whispered love, it rests in flowery arms upon a mossy heart; But storm-clouds empty their vials of wrath, hurricane lashes its heart to fury, and thunder moans, no rest, no rest! And awful cliffs, like ministers of strength, their cheeks all pity-blanched and veiled with mist their majesty, answer, " Ever so." Far from your mountain maiden, with fern-soft breath and eyes like melting moonbeams, you must go. Filtering through willow leaves, red gold, with lambent flames, the river lights, as thoughts of duty done the eye of faith; 30 THE MERCED. As through the glare of ripening grain, all day, the river flows. Now darkness. Through cloudy halls of memory, like a wraith Of happiness departed, the pale moon flits, but listen, all prophetic on the breeze, is borne the song Of harvest time, and the cheerful hum of labor, comforting. So now the river flows along, And o er the lonely hearth of a deserted town its foliage weaves, As upon hopes forsaken the stream of kindness its graceful verdure leaves; While the stars, all mystical, fading ever with the night, look upon the distant sea, Where, mingling with the mighty streams of earth, the river soon will be. MEADOW LANDS. 31 M E A D O W LANDS. [YOSEMITE.] BREEZY meadows, rippling grasses, dancing ferns, and nodding brakes, Baby-blue-eyes clustering closely, in a hundred mimic lakes; Dimpling, rippling, reedy hollows, hollows reedy, by the pool, Where the sleek-haired cows are standing, knee deep in the water cool; Shadows brown and dusty, sun-gleams frolicking at hide and-seek, While the pert woodpecker smartly breaks the silence with his beak. Breezy meadows, rippling grasses, dancing ferns, and nodding brakes, Where the lark with showers of music all the bees and blossoms wakes; Where the glad, glad sunrise flashes violet kisses on the dew, And the warm wind woos the roses, all the happy summer through; Where the lily s heart of splendor dazzles all the shimmering green, And pink pussy - paws, like velvet, in warm patches glow between. 32 MEADOW LANDS. Breezy meadows, rippling grasses, dancing ferns, and nodding brakes, Gold-dipped pansy, gold-dipped pansy, can you heal the heart that aches ? Yes, ah, yes, mellifluous whispers float from all the meadow lands, While the brooklet sighs responsive, flowing over crystal sands; And the sweet eyes of the flowers, springing from each grassy clod, Look with mild reproach to heaven, and smile upon a loving God. NEAR MONTEREY. 33 NEAR MONTEREY. THERE is a cavern down by the sea, All dark and dismal, where ceaselessly The billows rush with resounding force, Louder and louder their mutterings hoarse, Till lost in a cataract of spray On the rock-bound coast of Monterey. When a sunbeam falls on its foam-wet walls, It hurries away from those dismal halls, Whence the tender moonbeams timidly Fly back to nestle upon the sea. The sea! wondrous mystery! W r hat magic spell do you hold o er me ? That ever and always, far and near, Thy deep-toned music I seem to hear. Ever and always before my eyes The scenes of thy mighty splendor rise, But above this cavern, deep and lone, Where the restless billows toss and moan, Spring s verdure is broidered with skeins of flowers, And proudly the grand old cypress towers. The heart has its caverns deep and lone, Where life s heaving billows toss and moan. Nor love, nor friendship, may penetrate Where its seething billows agitate. You may look upon a calm, sweet face, But the heart s deep secrets you cannot trace. 34 THE SEA. THE SE .A. ON the sea, the deep blue sea, Grand, triumphant, strong and free, Now my light bark swiftly bounds Where the rocking tempest sounds. First on mountain tops of foam Where sea-nymphs their tresses comb; Then below in crystal vales Charmed by mermaids wondrous tales Of the strange land far below, Where in fancy now I go. See the silvery light that falls Softly o er its domes and halls, Where the Fairy Queen holds sway O er the realms of joyous day! See rare flowers, in beauty, blow! See the sparkling gems that glow Where no hand of man hath been Flowers to pluck or gems to win! W 7 here a yearly splendor beams And through clear green water gleams; This is why I joy to be On the bosom of the sea. When the moon s bright ray serene W T eaves a witchery o er the scene, When the distant star-worlds gaze THE SEA. 35 On the water s wildering maze; When in Luna s hurried flight Scudding clouds half hide her light, When the sun his brilliance flings Where the wild gull dips his wings, When the gods of darkness dwell In the air, and billows swell; At all times, I love to be A rover on the deep blue sea. Here is found true liberty; Here God speaks in mystery; Speaks in thunder tones of wrath, Hurls the lightning down its path, Bids the stormy winds be still, Calms the tempest at His will; This is why I long to be Ever near the deep, deep sea. 30 ON THE SEA-SHORE. ON THE SEA -SHORE. HARK! the evening bells are ringing, And the nightingale is singing, Come, my love, to me. On the shore the waves dash lightly, Over all the stars shine brightly, While I wait for thee. See, she comes, my life s best treasure; Naught my love for her can measure, Or my joy express. Her dear eyes, with love-light beaming. Shine like stars above us gleaming, In love s tenderness. So about the beach we wander, And upon the future ponder, In the fair moonlight; Listening to the sea lamenting, Like a broken heart repenting, In the silent night. ***** Ah, those happy times are fled, Brightest hopes have long been dead, Ah, the barren sea! Death my dearest one has wed, Laid her in her narrow bed By the restless sea! SAN FRANCISCO. 37 SAN FRANCISCO. TWILIGHT has dropped a silv ry veil Over earth s troubled breast; Soft breezes, daughters of the gale, Alone disturb her rest. They bring from o er the western sea Perfumes so sweet and rare, Scattering them caressingly Upon her features fair. Twould seem an angel s unseen hand Had wrought on heaven s high dome . Figures that change like the drifting sand, Light as the ocean s foam. Among the lingering rose-tipped clouds The star of evening shines Radiantly through the mist that shrouds The far-off mountain pines. Slow fades the glory of the west, Night walks upon the deep, In starry robes of azure dressed, Her vigils lone to keep. Now, softly clear the bugle-call Falls on the glistening bay, SAN FRANCISCO. Where lucid beams of moonlight fall That with the bright waves play. And of all the beautiful sights, On which the moonbeams gaze, None love they better than the heights Which now so proudly raise Their heads against the deep blue sky; And stars e en long to wait, As through the heavenly course they fly, Above thy Golden Gate. Fair city, in your filmy dress Of mystic moonlight wound, Hark! how the waves in tenderness Your praises ever sound. OP THP, (( CJ.NI VBRSITY ] \, /,. :::: = : JJ IN MOUNTAIN VIEW CEMETERY. 39 IN MOUNTAIN VIEW CEMETERY. [OAKLAND.] SILENCE spreads her soft, dove-colored wings Above the opal waters of the bay; From yonder covert copse, a lone bird sings His farewell song to the fast-dying day. " Good-bye, good-bye, Peace fold thee to her breast," Floats benedictive from the sky to earth ; While flowers close their eyes and sink to rest Upon the gentle heart that gave them birth. Blending in rare, harmonious reliefs, Sweep undulating curves of gray and green; While the ship Twilight spreads her tinted reefs, And sails the shores of day and night between, Towards the long line of purple hills that skirt The east horizon, tinged with faintest rose. Like sentries tall, the eucalyptus girt And guard full well this city of repose. " Asleep in God." Silence hath set her seal In reverence upon these peaceful graves, Till, clothed in majesty, the Lord reveal Life s mystery. Oh, many a sad heart craves 40 IN MOUNTAIN VIEW CEMETERY. To be at rest beneath the quiet trees That cast their grateful shadows on the turf; Far from the tumult of life s rolling seas, No more to battle in the angry surf. CONTENTMENT. 41 CONTENTMENT. COULD I but find some solitary spot, Some still secluded vale; a hermitage, Where the false tongues of men would stir me not, Where I might read the book of Nature s page- There wilting life, with energy supplied From beauty s fountain head, contentment s spring, The blighting ravages of time may hide, In raptures that the joys of nature bring. Contentment there is such a word, I know, But from experience I cannot tell What its significance may be, for oh, My soul ne er yet hath whispered, u It is well! " For standing in the fertile plain, I gaze A moment at the flowered grass; then turn My wistful eyes to where, in wandering haze The purple summits point to heaven; and yearn To scale the highest peak, and stand alone Upon its lofty eminence, and hear The deep voice of the wind storm - sob and moan, 42 CONTENTMENT. Mid gloomy pines; to see the first soft tear That falls from heaven s eye upon the earth; To watch the sunbeams kiss the tear away, To see earth waken into life and mirth, Beneath their influence, in verdure gay. IMAGINATION. 43 IMAGINATION. AH, to loftiest heights my soul would soar, In bold aerial upward flights, far, far Above cold craggy cliffs and mountains hoar, To where no impious human hand may mar The clear reflection caught from the sublime Communion with the spirits of the air, That whisper dulcet words of mystic rhyme. So, wafted on the wings of peace, no care Would then disturb my soul in tremulous flight Where fancy holds unlimitable sway, And fond illusion s visions fill the night. And then will music s soft and hallowed ray Over my soul a glimmer fling of peace, And fill my life with harmonies grand As it swells, as it tells how joys increase In true imagination s happy land. 44 LOVE. LOVE. SHINE forth, thou glorious beacon of the day, In all the splendor of thy might- Shine forth! O er all the land extend thy sway. Dispel the gloomy shades of night. When fall thy splendor on the darksome glade, Then shall the birds loud caroling The solemn quiet of the woods invade, And borne upon the lark s light wing Earth s song of praise like incense is upborne. My heart may then forget its fears, And casting off love s fetters, cease to mourn; Ah, no; far better Love s sad tears, Than Nature s smiles or pleasure s songs of glee, Without thee neither could exist; All would be lost, oh, love, if not for thee, In gloom s impenetrable mist. AMBITION. 45 AMBITION. THE man who has no purpose in his life, Whose inmost bosom never has been rife With thought as keen as sharp Damascan knife, Who longs not to be foremost in the strife: For him no sonnet will the poet breathe, For him will victory no chaplet weave, In glory s ranks no meed will he achieve, No pleasures high his dull mind e er perceive. 46 REMEMBRANCE. REMEMBRANCE. IN every heart there dwells some fond desire, Though smouldering embers of a dying fire. A feeble gleam now flickers in my breast Where raging flames once blazed and knew no rest. But pour the oil of memory on the spark, Twill quickly kindle on love s hearthstone dark. Like stars upon the dusky brow of night, When flowers have said their last farewell to light, So shine the gems of love in memory s crown. Though banished be its light by reason s frown. REGRETS. 47 REGRETS. Now though your heart be brimming o er With sorrow for the dead; Now though your soul be grieving sore For words I have not said; Oh, think not that I willfully Would add to griefs dark "stream One drop of aught save sympathy, Or fling on sorrow s dream One shade more black than it hath known For in affection s land You, friend, are seated on the throne, Fashioned by love s warm hand. If by a single act of mine I ve given you cause to grieve, In penitence I now repine, And round my heart-strings weave The tangled threads of deep regret. Then, friend I love so well, You surely will forgive, forget, And whisper, All is well. 48 REFLECTIONS. REFLECTIONS. DARK, threatening clouds of sorrow overhang, The noon of pleasure s bright, brief day. Ah, tis a truth that through the ages rang, The sweetest joys soon fade away. E en when we deem this earth a Paradise, And of Contentment s stream the source, Swift sudden gusts of stormy passion rise And sweep around us with wild force. The bouyant ship upon the tranquil sea Dreams not of danger from the storm; But thunder-clouds may soon peal fearfully, And lightning clothe her trembling form. COMPASSION. 49 COMPASSION. DEAD leaves lie thick on the cold, hard ground, And all is silent, except the sound Of their rustling low. Spring s verdant foliage has vanished clear; Its blossoming flowers are dry and sear; Its songs hushed long ago. But soon the pitying hand of God Will cover the dry and barren sod In mantle white. And trees that tower bleak and bare, He ll hide with a garment wondrous fair, And pure as light. The spring of life from Time s hand has rolled, The story of life is almost told, Its June has fled. Its autumn fast is waning away; What once was beauty is now decay; Its songs are long since dead. But soon the pitying hand of God Will cover life s dry and barren sod. And the poor dead leaves Of withered hopes that the heart will keep, He ll hide in a silence long and deep, Neath the robe He weaves. 50 REVERIE. REVERIE. A QUIET day, a day for blissful dreaming, Beside still waters, in the shadow cool Of forest trees, through which the sunlight gleaming Falls tenderly upon the sleeping pool, While low the winds, like wandering minstrels stray, And gentle melodies upon the tree-tops play. HOW OOULD THEY KNOW? 51 HOW COULD THEY KNOW? ALL the pretty flowers bowed their heads and wept ; Next day, the rosy feet of happy childhood stepped Amid flame patches in the green, Harebells and golden poppies sheen, Nor knew that Love o er Hope s dead face a watch had kept, While all the pretty flowers bowed their heads and wept. A shuddering sigh went wandering through the quiet dark; Two lovers slumbered, knowing that the early lark Would wake them on their wedding-day, Their heart-beats thrilling in his lay. How could they know that all Love s hope lay cold and stark While a shuddering sigh went wandering through the quiet dark ? The placid stars looked down, all unrelenting cold, Upon the wide gray sea, the bleak and barren wold. Close in her gentle arms, her child A happy mother clasped and smiled, 52 HOW COULD THEY KNOW? Nor knew, that for her Hope had died and Love grown old, While placid stars looked down all unrelenting cold. Wild in the haunted fens, unhappy spirits screamed; Calm as a tired child, an old man slept and dreamed Dreamed of the loved one gone before, He soon would meet upon a better shore, Nor deemed Love wept while Hope s pyre flared and gleamed, And loud in haunted fens unhappy spirits screamed. Out from the salt sea-spray, there came a piteous moan. Yes, but " the Great Creator spoke in that mighty tone," Bidding the laden heart oppressed Come freely unto Him and rest. Love, with her pale dead Hope, gained peace from God alone, While from the salt sea-spray there came a pite ous moan. POKSY. 53 POESY. OH, Poesy ! in vain do I aspire To make sweet music on thy magic lyre, Though all my soul is racked with wild desire, And fancy melts my mind in fervent fire ; Hearts are that ask for joy or lover s kiss I crave no other boon no other bliss Than Poesy should smile on me; for this All precious things of life I d freely miss. God saw the slumbering babe that helpless lay On bed of roses at life s dawn of day; Beheld her beauty, and since then alway Has led her rosy footsteps o er life s way, Till she had grown from babyhood; and now She stands a grand, fair woman; on her brow A wreath of myrtle, fore whom great men bow And women weep, remembering true love s vow; Friendship may wither and frail love repine, I should not sorrow if one leaf were mine Of that bright wreath upon thy head divine. Ah, how can I the sacred names profane Of Love and Friendship, who in common reign Alike o er human joy and human pain; E en Poesy herself would surely die Should Love and Friendship in the grave low lie; 54 POESY. Yielding to earth their last expiring sigh, Would float ecstatic to the sounding sky. Together, hand in hand, they speed along, Attended by the seraphim of song, And shower mercy on the seething throng Of human tide, on both the weak and strong, The young, the old, the father and the child, The fierce virago and the maiden mild, On merry eyes and lips that once have smiled, Now cold and silent, shrouded in the gloom Of dying hopes that withered in their bloom; On heads that wear exultant honors plume, And gaunt disgrace that totters to the tomb. Oh, Poesy ! in vain do I aspire To make true music on thy magic lyre, Though all my soul is racked with wild desire, And fancy melts my soul in fervent fire. STEP LIGHT, SPEAK LOW. 55 STEP LIGHT, SPEAK LOW. STEP light, speak low, for baby lies Upon the breast of slumber; May angels guard his sleeping eyes And all his night hours number. Step light, speak low, love s tender speech Is better heard through glances; A silent kiss more bliss can reach Than eloquent advances. Step light, speak low, a silent form Is lying still forever; Impervious to calm or storm, To wake on earth, ah, never. Step light, speak low, for daylight s roar Has faded into quiet; The breaking waves upon the shore Have ceased their noisy riot. Step light, speak low, for fancy s feet Have strayed to distant pleasures, To cull the flowers of memory sweet And list its song-bird measures. 56 LOVE S LAST TRYSTING-PLACE. LOVE S LAST TRYSTING-PLACE. SLOW, soughing winds adown the valley sweep, Chanting a low, weird dirge; And see, the very heavens in pity weep; The dim seas wailing surge Moans as it creeps o er the gray, pebbly shore Ever this sad refrain: "Fair Alice, earth will now behold no more!" All dismal falls the rain, Soft on the shivering, many-tufted grass, Soft on the aspen leaves Thro which the dreary night winds sobbing pass, And where the earth upheaves A new-made grave within the churchyard bourne; More quietly it falls Upon the upturned face, so strange and wan, Of one who wildly calls For Alice Alice, dear, life s only prize, Hidden beneath the sod. Ah, quenched for aye the light of her sweet eyes, Smitten by Death s cold rod. The moon to-night just peeped above the hill, Then veiled her pitying face, As there she saw him, cowering white and still, On love s last trysting-place. LOVE S LAST TRYSTING-PLACE. 57 Her thought went back to a warm, dreamy night When summer was earth s bride, When woodland rung with laughter light, Joy walked by beauty s side The pansy, lily, and sweetbriar rose Flung on the balmy air An odor that drowned all the senses woes, Sweet as an infant s prayer When the flowers of heaven and flowers of earth Smiled in each other s eyes When nature s beauty and gay music s mirth Awoke a glad surprise; And clear the sound came of the rippling rill, Flowing through meadows green; Down from the slopes of the pine-covered hill, Its flowery banks between. At times the shining waters placidly Slipped o er its moss-grown bed; The dewy flowers of eve wept silently, The willow bent its head. Again, its rapid currents kissed the feet Of gray and sombre rocks, Whose yellow lichens -streamed upon the sleet, Like some fair mermaid s locks. But where the dancing wavelets reached the sea, Most beautiful it seemed; Like some pure life merged in eternity, It s last waves brightest gleamed. 58 LOVE S LAST TRYSTING-PLACE. Twas there where curling, foam-tipped billows roll Over the long white beach, That the old, old story of love was told. The warm kiss strove to teach How much of heaven the earth may once contain, For love s betrothal kiss Shines like a star above life s dreary wold And sorrow s deep abyss. Content within each other s loving arms, The blissful moments sped; While in the book of nature s wondrous charms A tale of love they read. Twas well for both that neither one could peer Into the future dim ; Twas well that she to his heart held near, Clung close, ah, close to him; For now where the roses of love and youth Bloomed on her glowing cheek, Are the pale, sweet lilies of death and truth Stamped on her forehead meek. For now, in the ice-cold arms of the grave, The maiden lies asleep, While rustling grasses green above her wave, And low winds murmuring sweep. What wonder that the moon, fair queen of night, Had veiled her pitying face, As there she saw him, cowering still and white, On love s last trysting-place! THE WATER-SPRITE. THE WATER-SPRITE I M a water-sprite From the realms of light; In the mountain stream I glance and gleam, And I dip my wings, And the pretty things On window-panes all, Where the raindrops fall, Are works of my hands And of fairy bands. In rainbows we march Through the arching skies, With colors flying, Our bright tints vying; What a pretty sight In our dresses white, As we twist and twirl, As the shrill winds whirl Us from the sky, Till at last we lie On the cold, bare ground, Which so soon is wound In its robes of snow, Till its form below Is hidden from view By water-sprite, too. 60 THE WATER-SPRITE. Now we re on the sea, Dancing merrily; Now we re gliding still With the pensive rill, Where the wild beasts slake Their thirst in the lake. We are sovereign there To the fierce king s glare; All nature abounds With our varied sounds, And we fill the earth With rivers of mirth. Now in cool marble halls, Where the fountain falls, Rare music is swelling, Its cadence is telling Of peace, joy and light To the water-sprite. Then in dismal vaults The wild spirit halts And bathes the brow Of a captive, now, Who finds relief For a while from grief. Then we re off again To the haunts of men, Our flags unfurled Through the wide, wide world, Earth is beauty s bower, THE WATER-SPRITE. 61 By water-sprite s power; Go whither you will, On dale or on hill, You will see the might Of the water-sprite. 62 "IT MIGHT HAVE BEEN: "IT MIGHT HAVE BEEN." BRIGHT youth starts out with valiant heart, Resolved the goals of life to win; Gray age, with life about to part, All sadly says: "It might have been." Bowed down by weight of weary years, Years that are full of grief and sin, He sees above a vale of tears The shadowy text: "It might have been." The saddest words on mortal tongue, And to despair the nearest kin, Are those from broken hearts oft wrung, Those piteous words: " It might have been. IN THE LIBRARY. 63 IN THE LIBRARY. A BOOK of poems, a cover gray, On the shelf with a thousand more, Covered with dust of years it lay, I forget the name it bore. Yet some heart throbbed at each earnest word That I passed so coldly by; And in midnight watches the angels heard It s pathetic, imploring cry. 64 RETROSPECTION. RETROSPECTION. A LITTLE flower grew by the dusty highway, A common yellow flower, such as you see Amid the grasses of a sunlit lea, Or fringing either side of rose-edged by-way. A child to pick the hardy bloom bent lowly, Illumed the ethereal beauty of his face With the bright aureola of childhood s grace, And destined, like the flowers, to fade, though slowly. i Years led the baby feet to manhood s regions; Forgotten was that simple flower then, As eagerly among the race of men He sought the fairest blooms of star-eyed legions. A bird sat on a gnarled oak-tree, thrilling The air of May. It was a simple song, A little plaintive, though twas gay not long, That all the dewy air of morn was filling. A boy, his heart with youthful impulse beating, Stood still and listened to its short refrain, With sunny smiles unshadowed by dull pain, But like the song, alas, too fleeting. RETROSPECTION. 65 Time led the boyish feet to manhood s pleasures; That short refrain was heard no more As looking up, almost where angels soar, He sought the voice that rang in rarest measures. Yet, when those feet have once crossed heaven s portals, I think that flower will greet his vision first; That bird s song thrill his heart before the burst Of melody from harps of the immortals. 66 ROMANCE TIME. ROMANCE TIME. A TREMOR through the crimsoned oats, One shining thread of wild-bird notes Woven in sombre silences; and flakes From even-tide s pale azure sift And pile transparent sunset drift On fragile ferns and mountain-mirrored lakes; One star alone hangs in the trembling air, The star of love; see, dear, it is so fair. The wing of night, all silver-tipped, In reedy-margined river dipped; A gem of light on the deep dusk rose Over the star-enameled sea; From lute-voiced forests drowsily Chanting, one snowy sunset glows. Red, vinous love beats through our being, dear,- Soul of my soul, life s romance time is near. A THOUGHT. 67 A THOUGHT. MYRIADS of burnished wings Shimmer o er seaweed and white coral reef; From ruby-throated shells A rhythmic chorus swells; In wooded dells, from every trembling leaf, A hallelujah rings. Lift up your eyes on high From the still beauty of its shining nest Flutters a snowy dove, Bearer of peace and love. Ah, may the bird within your heart find rest, Content no more to fly. THE WIND AND I. THE WIND AND I. Ho, WIND! I ll be your playfellow to-night; When all the house is fast asleep, Soft through the garden path I ll creep, Till safe from the reach of sound and sight. Then we will scamper gaily o er the hill With shadows weird of black cloud rifts; High, where the rough old pine-tree lifts Its head to midnight sky; through ruined mill, Where moonbeams, through the doors Whose rusty hinges creak, In dim and dusty corners play, While neath the straggling rushes weep Deserted waters. Then, with sudden freak And impulse whimsical, we ll whirl the leaves Down the long lane in rustling shower; And then, anon, will try the power Of flight; and whistling swiftly neath the eaves Of the gray barn down by the river shore; On, on, on with maddening speed, Ready for any daring deed, Onward we ll rush and provoke the roar Of ocean angrily shaking his mane, Till, beating the rocks with his thunderous paws, He seizes a ship in his cruel jaws. Ah! playfellow, then with hearts of pain THE WIND AND I. 69 Through the dark night hours we ll sob and moan. To-morrow a breeze and a tender voice That bids the flowers and men rejoice; To-night the wind and my soul alone. 70 THE MEETING. THE MEETING. HANGS the new moon in the tree-top, Cradled in a violet haze, And the flowers all are sleeping Underneath the stars mild rays. The hollyhocks all day have nodded, Nodded o er the picket gate, Gossiping with friendly sunflowers, But tis late, now it is late; And the cricket chirps impatient Sighs the breeze, at last, at last, A footstep on the dewy clover ! Ah, my warm blood beats as fast. There s a shiver through the poplars, And the stars, the stars are dim, While the breeze is sighing, shuddering, Sighing out a requiem. For in arms of midnight silent, Tired joy has sunk to rest, And the wild sea in the distance Silvers all the saddened west. Faint the roses, faint the lilies, Faint in heavy perfumed swoon; Stay; tis early, early, early, Leave me not so soon, so soon. COM PENS A TION. 71 COMPENSATION. JUST a bunch of pansies and a smilax spray, Lying on the pavement, turning to decay. Fading yes, but your beauty once made some heart glad; Then, although you must die, dear flowers, oh, be not sad. Just one strain of music, then a broken string; Just one flight to cloudland, then a wounded wing. Yes ! but the strain of music sounds through some life s dream, And the wounded bird lives alway in a poet s theme. 72 LIFE S MESSENGER. LIFE S MESSENGER. No, NO, I would not clothe my deep regard, My tender passion, in a clumsy dress Of words, whose awkward draperies retard The lightsome steps of love, but soft caress And tender sigh will form the gauzy veil That half conceals, and yet reveals, her grace. As fair as the mystic shapes that sail On poet s sea of thought, instinct her face With music, only those songs will she sing That find an echo sweet in hearts that beat In unison. And flowers love will bring, and Lay them on your breast and at your feet, The lily white, my dear, your purity; The deep red rose, your ardent pulsing blood; The sunflower, for affection s surety, All glistening in the golden drops that flood From love s o erflowing heart. Thus, thus would I Send love to thee, my life s one fond desire. Tis all the heaven I ask when thou art nigh, Thy dear, dear heart, all, all that I aspire. THE VOICES OF THE PAST. THE VOICES OF THE PAST. I HEAR low voices calling, calling, calling, The soft, melodious voices of the spring; In measured cadence falling, falling, falling, The tender, dulcet voices of the spring. Full many a season s come and gone, And vanished in the past s retrieveless bourne, Yet still one springtime dwelleth in my heart, And golden flowers of memory will start Upon the sunny hills of reverie. Once more I stand beneath the old oak tree, All glowing with beauty Morning s face, Her pulses thrilling in shy Spring s embrace. And hear young, sweet voices calling, calling, calling, The tender voices of that long ago; In measured cadence falling, falling, falling Upon my heart in accents soft and low. 74 GOD IS LOVE. GOD IS LOVE. GOD of the Universe, immensity and power art Thou! The hoarse voice of the waves, the starry firma ment above, Birds that in the forest raise a gleeful chorus now, Winds sighing lullabies, and scented, rustling grasses, all declare that "God is Love." TWO PICTURES. 75 TWO PICTURES. AN angel stood by a sleeper s bed, And bent in pity his noble head, To gaze on an infant s dimpled charms, And murmur gently, with outstretched arms, "Long, long is the path, dear little one, Thy feet must tread, ere the goal be won: Ah, weary, weary the toilsome road That you must travel to your abode." How fair, how innocent, how bright, As she lay mid the snowy pillows white; Yet the guardian angel stooped to place A pitying kiss on the flower-like face. An angel stood where the murky tide Had cast up the form of a suicide, And bent to look at the foam-wet hair, And the poor, thin hands, so worn with care. Nay, judge her not, for the angel knew How deep was the woe that her soul passed through; And how in a moment, crazed with grief, She had sought in the arms of death relief; How weak, how pitiful, how frail, As she lies there so still and pale! Yet the guardian angel stooped to place A kiss of joy on the upturned face. 76 THK COMFORTER. THE COMFORTER. SEEKEST thou alone in high-born thought Peace of mind to find ? Remember who it was that wrought Suffering mankind Sacrifice so great, so fearful, Who it was that left, Hours of bliss for vigils tearful, Almost hope bereft. Not those within the sculptured fane, Worshiping alone, Who hear their brethren cry in vain, Heeding not the groan Sent from the throbbing heart of woe, Will in relief extend A helping hand, or mercy show. But tis they who bend Neath a weary load of sorrow, Born for other s weal, Who from God sweet peace may borrow, Heaven s sweet pity feel. A HYMN. 77 A HYMN. ON wings of faith, my fancy flies To better worlds and fairer skies And though on earth all seems so drear, Hope gently bids me, " Never fear." For God, the righteous One above, Has told of His most precious love And, oh, that love, so freely given, Is the bright path that leads to heaven. I fear not sin, nor death s cold flood, Protected by that precious blood; I ll ever hold to that dear hand Till I reach home the Promised Land. 78 "LET YOUR LIGHT SO SHINES LET YOUR LIGHT SO SHINE." SPIRIT, to the gates of heaven Wing imagined flight; Bathe in floods of light deriven From celestial site; Joy in the songs of Paradise, Drink their raptures deep, Deep in thy soul, and let thine eyes Heavenly glories sweep. But when called to earth again, Let your light so shine That it fall on fellow-men Like music, all divine. WAKING. 79 WAKING. CLEAR and crisp comes morning twilight, Herald of approaching day; High in East the flaming red light Flings its banners o er the bay, Set a jewel in the land, Flashing, iridescent, bright. Purple hills, like cameos, stand Against the fading skies of night. In magic sleep, the city lies, Waiting for the prince of morn, In his glorious strength to rise, Then to kiss her into dawn. Now, the signs of life returning, Each one to his task departs. See, the thousand smoke-clouds burning! Myriads of aching hearts Leave their dazzling dreams of beauty, Wake to grim realities, Join the ranks of stern old duty, Fighting gainst severities. The grim haunts of squalid sin, And the reeking dens of vice, Gilded palaces of gin These for care will not suffice. 80 WAKING. She will take possession, Wisdom, Of thy seat of honor high, And, like spectre, grim and gruesome, Through the camp of glory fly. There is no soul but hath its grief, No light heart but hath its sorrow! In sleep s hours, it finds relief, And awakens with the morrow. Soul, whatever be your AVOC, Heart, whatever be your trouble, Hope s bright bow for you should glow, Life is not an empty bubble. Gem of peace it is twill be Hid a while beneath the sod; Then spring to immortality, Seeking its Eternal God. OF THK RSITY THE SOUL S STATELY MANSIONS. 81 "BUILD THEE MORE STATELY MAN SIONS, MY SOUL." WHERE winds the Rhine its sinuous banks be tween, High on a lofty hilltop may be seen A ruined castle, whose dismantled tower Is reminiscent of departed power. Where once the warrior stood in proud array, Where gallant banners streamed from turrets gray, Now slowly through the long, dim ages crawls The clinging ivy o er its crumbling walls. By man renounced, by Nature fortified, Its beauty living, though its power has died. What tho no more resounds war s deafening roar, What tho the clash of arms is heard no more, Do not the song- birds, through long sunny hours, Thrill all the sunshine glad and shaded bowers? What though man s reign so briefly is at end, Time s ravages Spring and her followers mend. When long the signals of departed day Have ceased to flutter in the sky, when over bay, Stream, mountain-top and vale, from sable wings, Its deepening shadows lonely midnight flings 82 THE SOUL S STATELY MANSIONS. When stars look down upon the ancient pile, As grandly through ethereal paths they file, Those molten spheres, those swift revolving suns, Behold a sight for so the legend runs Most marvelous and rare. Forth from the hold, From subterranean dungeon, worn and old, There issues such a mighty blaze, that night Flees from the moated castle in affright. Bright flames of living gold, and purple hue, With vivid crimson, emerald and blue, Illume the haunted castle, till it seems The embodiment of a poet s dreams. Oh, thus, when bleak misfortune s dark skies loom Above life s shattered prospects, when the gloom Of midnight settles o er its crumbling walls, Through which how faint resound dear memory s calls, From out the inmost passage of the heart Bright flames of living faith and hope should start, Illuming all life s castle, till it seems The embodiment of high and noble dreams. COURAGE. COURAGE. NOT a sparrow falleth, but God s eye doth mark its fall 1 Hark ! across life s Galilee, floats forth the lov ing call : " Peace, it is I, be not afraid." Hushed be each sad complaint; Doth He not clothe the lilies fair? Then why should courage faint? 84 CONSOLA TION. CONSOLATION. AND your heart, too, is it sad my friend, Does love to your life no glamour lend? Go sow your sympathy, far and wide, And then, in the gladsome harvest-tide, The seeds of pain will be grains of gold, And each salt tear that glistens cold In your secret heart will shine again In the future s starry diadem. Ah, peace, troubled soul! It is not in vain This bitter sorrow, this weary pain; Each thorn of trouble, each weed of care, Time s*touch will turn to a flower fair. God saith to the heart he knoweth best, Some day, thou shalt know eternal rest. TO MY MOTHER. TO MY MOTHER. THERE is joy I d not exchange for any other bliss. You ask me what this treasure is? Why, tis my mother s kiss. Will-o -the-wisps, o er error s swamp, my foot steps oft beguile; But radiant in the sky of love, shines forth my mother s smile. 86 TO H- TO H . THERE is a land where gentlest zephyrs blow; On its ambrosial air, reverberating low, Are strange, low strains, that haunt the listener s ear Forever. Often we have wandered, dear, Through the glad sunshine of its sylvan shades. Together, culled its flowers, with the dews Still wet upon their petals dazzling hues; Strayed idly on its sea-beach, hand in hand, And linked our names together on the sand; Looked at the hills, and wondered what might lie Beyond their verdant barriers you and I! Well, some of this beyond, we both have seen That few rich harvests reap, and many glean; That in life s mines few strike a precious vein; That many labor hard and nothing gain; That victory is not always to the right; That often there falls a withering blight Upon the hoped-for happiness of men. But we are told twill all end well, and when We grow aweary of the noisy broil, The bitter strife, and never-ceasing toil, We may find rest and peace in memory, And quench our thirst in joys that used to be, TO H . 87 When through its pleasant valleys, hand in hand, We plucked the dainty blooms of childhood s land. Then cheered and quickened, we go on again, Striving to do right toward our fellow-men. What tho we gain no laurel-wreaths from fame; What tho we two know but each other s name? There is a land and not so far away Where we, through meadows of God s love may stray, Children again, but this time purged of sin: For otherwise, ye shall not enter in. TO EDITH. TO EDITH. OH, sweet young maid, with tresses fair, And eyes of heavenly hue, Your gentle life has known no care, Your heart is pure and true. So may the sky of future be Unclouded as tis now, The crown of true felicity, Shining upon your brow. And when as each succeeding year Adds to life s chain a link, May those bright eyes know but the tear That flows when fond ones think Upon the faces they have known And loved in days gone by, Ere yet the spring of life had flown, When the tide of youth ran high. Edith, whose tender, loving voice Dispels all gloomy fears Making the drooping heart rejoice, Driving away all tears For you, upon your birthday bright, We ll breathe this earnest prayer: May sorrow always be as light As you are young and fair. TO TO C . TO-MORROW 11 loose the moorings of thy life, my boy, And bid thee steer into the open sea. Heaven grant its sails may prosperous winds employ, That firm and resolute thy hand may be To meet the uncertain dangers of the deep. For nowhere is the sea. my dear young friend, So calm, but clouds from its dim edges creep; No sky so clear, but heaven s arsenals send Death and destruction in the wrathful tempest s blast. Sail on, fear not to breast Life s mighty sea, But on the compass of God s love thine eyes fix fast, Twill surely guide thee to a bright eternity. 90 TO H- TO H , ON HER SEVENTEENTH BIRTHDAY. THE cowslip lifts its tiny head Up to the bright blue sky; The perfume, by sweet roses shed, Tells me of summer nigh. Upon a fair and beauteous morn, Just seventeen years ago, A lovely little babe was born Into a world of woe. " A world of woe made bright, tis said, By loving words and deeds," Whispered a tuft of clover red, That grew among the weeds. "That s true," I answered softly, As I stooped to pick the flower; " There are no joys so costly But are found in love s sweet bower." And so, my dearest child, here On this, your bright birthday, I ll weave a wreath of love, dear, That will never fade away. TO H . 91 The lovely blooms of hope, my dear, We ll twine among the flowers. To whisper of the rapture near, In the future s golden hours. But remember, oh remember, What ere that future bring, One heart will fondly linger, Will ever to thee cling. The twinkling worlds, in heaven afar, Are not more true to the night Than I to thee, my earth s bright star, Sparkling in friendship bright. Oh, may that friendship never wane Ere life s brief day is o er; Oh, pray twill be renewed again Upon the heavenly shore. 92 A BIRTHDAY WISH. A BIRTHDAY WISH. I WILL not wish your life to be Pure joy and unalloyed content. Learn from the sweet flowers that adorn Your birthday each rose has its thorn, And tho the filmy petals fade, The seeds fulfill a higher element. This will I wish you patience, Tho thick with thorns your life be filled; And as life s petals fall away, Faith s sight to know, the body may decay, But in the garden of eternity Will bloom the soul, as God hath willed. MY HOME. MY HOME. A LITTLE distance from the street, There stands a dwelling old Not like the ancient castle grim, With visage stern and bold, But with a kindly, smiling face, That makes the wanderer sigh, As he dreams of other lands, While the teardrop dims his eye. A large, old-fashioned garden, Stretches round it on all sides Where spring has left her farewell kiss, And summer now abides; Oh, sweet the scented breath Of the fragrant roses seems, And all the balmy morning air With the wild bees humming teems! Here, in a corner of the garden, There stands a lofty pine, And round about its sturdy trunk The clinging ivy twines; The hollyhocks and the dahlia Their gaudy pinions wave, And in a flood of sunshine, The faithful sunflowers lave. 94 REST. REST. LIKE a tired child that sinks to sleep Upon its mother s breast, Take me, oh, kindly mother earth, And let me, too, find rest. Sing your low lullabies, Oh, woodland. winds and silver streams,- Sing your low lullabies Of childhood s happy dreams; And then, thou best-beloved, E er- changing, changeless sea, Close by thy heart I long to be, Wilt thou keep watch o er me? YC 14470 U.C.BERKELEY LIBRARIES 385 THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY