University of California Berkeley (7 OF ORIGINAL POEMS BY ELIJAH RUSSELL MORSE. DILLON, MONTANA, 1894- P. F. PETTIBONE & CO., PRINTERS, CHICAGO. dedication. THIS LITTLE BOOK 1 DEDICATE TO MY CHILDREN. Contents. (Iiid Everywhere 9 Can We Forget Our Patriot Dead ? . . . 10 Return of May, 12 Man is Full of Frailty 13 Slavery, 14 MY Native Land, 15 O, My Country 16 Return of Spring, IT The Boys in Blue 19 Genius "-'<> Can We Forget? 21 Green Mountain State, 22 Sweet Summer, Thou Art Gone, .... 23 Autumn 24 My Childhood's Home 25 Niagara, 27 Winter, 1843-44, 28 Haste, Thou Sinner, 29 Hope 30 Acrostic Minnie Evelyn Morse, ... 31 The Prayer for Life 3-.' Hymn from the g6th Psalm, 34 Life is Short, 3T> The Tolling Bell 3<> Song for Winter, 37 The Name of Morse 38 Funeral Hymn, 39 From Earth I Soared Away, -40 The Bobolink, 12 Scraps 43 Xack and 1 44 Snow, 45 Mourn 46 Reliance on Heaven, 47 Flowers, 48 Clems 49 Almost Eight, -49 Doubt and Fear, , . . . 50 Return of May, 1844 :>2 Repeal, 53 The New Year, .... 54 .November, Joy and Sadness My Father and Mother Could We But Know Memorial Hymn. Bedeck Their Graves, Death Waiting for the Rain, A Hymn of Praise and fnvocation, . . . Illmois Stern Winter Reigns Strains Divine May Speak Kindly, Tears The Poor All Nature Sings, A Sister's Dying Farewell Acrostic. Orpha Shipman, Spring Is There a Day Without a Morn, . . . There's Beauty but it Fades Away, . . Spring Appears Grant, . Campaign Song, Acrostic. Susan C. Lowell, . . . . Meter, June Training Day Childhood, For Adam's Race, Yes, in Retirement and Alone, . . . Acrostic. Betsy Jane Lowell, . . . My Mountain Home Song Where Shall the Poet Find a Theme? . Our Life a Dream Extracts, The Cold, Chill Hand of Death, . . . Ogle County in Rhyme, The Maiden's Choice, It is a Shame, The Heavens Thy Power Proclaim, Come, Blooming Health ffl Bfl 81 84 88 90 HI 1*2 08 9-4 95 96 97 B8 100 102 103 104 The Dying Christian A Vermont Snow Storm, Youth, To the Moon, Acrostic. Orra Laporte, The Parting Hour, . . ' Take the Bible as Your Guide. . . . Memorial Hymn. O, Lightly, Softly Tread On the Death of Torrey A Light is on the Mountains Calvary Mount Pulaski They Will not Let Them Go, .... A Brighter Day is Dawning, .... Old Winter is Here O. Thou Almighty King (Jems Hope Pity We All are Frail My Soul is Longing for its Rest, . . Columbia The Past The Land of Rest, Centennial Hymn, The Present, The Dead, Time Rolls On Ten O'clock is Saying, Pay the Printer Acrostic.- Laura Ann Thomas, . . . Thanksgiving Day 'Tis Noon The Sea of Life. . 106 Reverie, 151 108 Welcome to Jennie Lind, 152 109 The Future, 153 110 Acrostic. Sarah C. Havena 154 112 Campaign Song, 155 113 Life is a Struggle 156 114 After the Storm, 156 Acrostic.- Ann M. Littlerield 1." 115 The Silent Land, 158 116 Acrostic. Jerusha Hill Thomas. . . . 159 118 Summer 160 120 The Ashtabula Horror 161 121 The Melancholy Smile 162 122 Winter, 163 123 The Cuckoo 164 125 The Maiden's Prayer 166 126 Acrostic.- Mary Jane Thomas 167 127 Welcome to Summer, 168 127 Go West 170 128 How Happy is the Heavenly Throng, . 171 130 Then When Coldness Clogs This Clay, . 172 132 Turn Now to God 173 133 Acrostic. William Cullen Warner, . . 174 135 The Burial Ground 175 136 A Hymn of Praise, 1W 137 Spring Again 180 140 Acrostic. Oscar E. Morse 180 141 May Day 181 142 Melancholy Thoughts, 182 143 Sabbath Morn, 183 144 Can We Forget the Men of Old, .... 184 145 The Joys of Earth 185 146 Acrostic. Beauty, 186 149 O, Let Me Rest 187 150 Salutatory. When first to myself, by one of our family, it was pro posed to have my Poems published in pamphlet or book form, I was very much pleased with the idea, as I had been thinking for years., who or what person.,or by what agency my productions in verse would be looked up and brought together, looked up and brought to lightr so ^C^-C- (/l^fl-'t scattered and dilapidated^ many ^>f them forty and fifty v oL o " *"- years of age, and from that y to the present time. Quite a good many of the older ones have been pub lished., and more or less of them have been lostj; and some I have recalled by most pertinacious thinking, and thus have brought them back to memory, from oblivion, by a word or a line, and thus giving an index to the piece or title. While looking up, revising,, and copying the old., I have composed and added quite a number of new ones^, which I hope and trust, will be appreciated by my children as a legacy of some worth, at least, from one of Three Score Years and Ten. And may a perusal of these productions of my thoughts and pen inspire my children., and children's children j inspire them with love of Country, Freedom, Father, Mother, and of Nature's God. ELIJAH RUSSELL MORSE. (Sofc Everywhere. Where dwelleth God ? O, everywhere, Among' the creatures of His care. In every place, in every spot. We cannot go where He is not. In every beam that morning throws,- In every star that brightly glows,- In every drop of glittering dew, In every rainbow's blended hue. In every fair and fragile flower, We see displayed His sovereign power. O, everywhere His works are seen; In the grass that springs, so bright and green. In every leaf, in every blade, In every thing which God hath made, In sparkling rills, in ocean's foamy And in the sky's resplendent dome. In light-winged clouds, of angel form; And in the lightning, in the storm. In high and low> in great and small; In man the noblest of them all: His radiance fills, enthroned on high, Our earth, and worlds beyond the sky. Nor thought can soar, nor tongue can tell, Where God in spirit, doth not dwell! Can Me Forget ur patriot Dcab? Can we forget our patriot dead, Who for their home and country died; Our fallen ones, who for us bled> The battle -scarredj-'who Death defied? Can we forget the April morn , When Sumpter, pierced^and bleeding fell, Our flag struck down, and soiled, and torn, By rebel hands,-with shot and shell? Can we forget the wild alarm, When tidings like the lightning flew Along the wires r The call to ann,^ And wildest notes the trumpets blew? Can we forget the parting tear; The father, mother, brother, son ? Can we forget to freedom dear, Their crown of glory won ? Can we forget our Lincoln's fall ? Our greatest, noblest martyr slain ; The darkest crime, foulest of all, That can a Nation's records stain ? Shall we forget to come each year, With reverent hearts, our tribute bring, And shed for them the pensive tear, And strew the sweetest flowers of Spring, iO ibove their honored, sacred dust/- While thoughts will wander far awayr To God we yield the sacred trusty- Of guarding well their moldering clay, Ot those who sleep in unknown graves, Who fell in battle's fiercest strife: O'er them blest Freedom's banner waves,- Who died to save the Nation's life. As long as sacred love can burn, Within an aching human breast, So shall our hearts towards them yearn, Our martyred heroes now at rest.f 1 1 IRcturn of We welcome thee* returning May, Thou lovely daughter of the Spring ; We welcome thee this holiday, For thou dost joy and gladness bring. Blest health is on thy blooming cheek, And youth and beauty in thine eyes; Ah/ lovely maiden, mild and meek, Thou art a child of Paradise. And thou hast come, our earth to bless With fairy breeze, refreshing showers ; With all thy beauties numberless, To beautify this earth of ours. Sweet music breathes on every gale, Creation's chorus joins the lay ; All welcome thee, and gladly hail Again thy. smiles, returning May. flDan is jfull of jfrailty. Man is full of frailty, God is full of power ; His kingdom lasts forever, Man's only for an hour. Man stands pale and trembling, When man he only sees; But God, when storms o'erwhelming Rage, commands and all is peace. Man glories for a while, But soon his joy is fled ; Then sorrow shades a smile, And sinks him 'mong the dead. O, then while frail is man, His glory but an hour; Life measured by a span; Arid strengthless is his power. In God let us confide, Whose glory, strength and power, While on life's stormy tide, To us will be a tower, A tower whose bulwarks are of old, Whose walls are built on high ; A strong defense, a mighty hold, Encircling earth and sky. 13 In Him we sure will trust, His arm is strong to save; And though we moulder back to dust, He'll rescue from the grave. Slavery. Woej the land whose soil is cursed With Slavery's unrelenting hand; Tho' seem it prosperous at first, Woe is reserved for such a land/ Though sweat and toil, and blood and tears, The harden'd Lord may yet devour^ He cannot stay the storm of years > Gathering to crush Oppression's power/ Woe, woe, to those who lend their aid, And help to bind the galling chain ; They write their name with human blood y- Themselves and country wear the stain 1 .* Lo ! Generations, yet unborn, Shall curse them for their sinful deed ; Shall heap on them a world of scorn, ^ When Freedom shall no longer bleed.. IKative Xanfc. Again among the hills I stand, Mills of my own dear native land, Where mountain peaks in grandeur rise. I tread once more, where childhood, sweet, Prattled and played with wandering feetj Ye greet again my longing eyes./ Oj youth and age, how soon they pass, 'Tis like the mist, or withering grass;- They come and go^ they pass away; Or like the verdant hills that bloom, They blossom, flourish,, find a tomb* And mingle with their mother clay. 'Tis sad, yet sweet, unbidden tears? Will start, to think of other years, Of joys, and sorrows, lot of all. I hear the brooklet's merry flow, The cricket's chirp of long ago, And voices from the woodlands call* Adieu, the autumn's glittering sheen Has donned its robe of changing green ; Reflected in the lake below: Whose placid waters on its breast, Lie quiet as a babe at rest, Or, river's still, majestic flow. 15 Old age will come, and stern decay; But O, thy hills pass not away. The mountains too, O^they shall stand, Like truth eternal they shall be. Sadly I turn away from thee, Farewell, my own dear native land. / In my old home, Sept. 22, 1876. Country. O, my country, 'tis oft I think of Thee; And thinking, wish that Thou wert truly free.' Wish Thou wert free from Slavery's galling chain, So that Thy glory be not found in vain.? My country, wake! Shake off the gloom of years; Set millions free, and stay their bitter tears. Let human rights now move thy inmost soul, And love of man thy actions all control. f Shake off the sin which binds a curse on Thee; My country wake, and be Thou truly free. Heaven cries aloud, put off a Nation's shame, Let Freedom live, as well as have a name. - IReturn of Spring. I am with you, I am with you, Though for me you've waited long; Now most joyfully I greet you, With my bright and happy throng. For I've broke the icy fetters Of old Winter's dreary reign, And the snow-wreaths I have wasted From the valley, hill and plain. I have wandered o'er the mountains, And the merry rills are free; And again the sparkling fountains In the sunlight welcome me. Lo, all nature is awaking From her long and dreary sleep, As she bids me to be joyful, ,And no more in silence weep. Loud her anthem now is swelling, And it fills the balmy air; On the wings of love 'tis wafted, While she kneels to God in prayer. And she smiles to meet her loved ones, Whom she counted but as slain ; And her great heart's nobly beating At the sound of my dear name. '7 I have breathed upon the forests, As I did in days of yore ; I have come with gentle showers, And old earth is young once more. And the grass is greenly springing, And the flowers awake from death, As with gentle hand I touch them, Kiss them with my balmy breath. Wake then Mortal, wake from sadness, Let thy heart with nature bloom ; Swell the song of joy and gladness, Hope for me beyond the tomb. When life's struggle all is over, And its wintry storms are past, O, then meet me, joyous greet me, Where I shall forever last. ' 18 Gbe Bops in Blue. Brave boys in blue, to freedom true, Your cause is just and holy; Go marching on, brave boys in blue, Till the final victory, f CHORUS. Three cheers, hof for the boys in blue, O^ Three cheers for the soldier boys in blue.; When Sumpter spoke, 'mid flame and smoke, And cannon's awful thunder 4 It shook the land,, on every handj With horror and with wonder.! CHORUS. It told the North, the trait'rous South Had sounded war's loud rattle, In wild alarm it bade it arm, And fight the mighty battle. ? CHORUS. Then our boys in blue, indignant flew From mountain, hill and valley ; From prairies, wide to ocean's tide, Around the flag to rally, f CHORUS. 19 The good old flag, the Union flag, By traitor hands made gory; They seized it then, those patriot men, And bore it on to glory.,* CHORUS. Till Treason's breath, is lost in death, Go, bear the starry banner. Till land, and sea, shall peaceful be, And swell the loud Hosanna.* (Benius. Genius kindles its own fires, With poetry the soul inspires, It feeds upon its own bright flame, And records high its deeds of fame, Say'st thou that Genius e'er shall die ? That spark of Immortality! Nay, nothing here so strong can bind The Genius of Immortal mind.; 20 Can IKEle Jforcjet? Oh, can we, shall we e'er forget, Sumpter's and Lincoln's fall; Those April morns, in sorrow set, The wormwood and the gall? The darkness, dread, and gloom that came In that eventful hour; The servile slave, who clanked the chain, The master's league of power? The threat, the blow our flag struck down, And trampled in the dust; When spake a voice, Jehovah's own, " Freemen, arise, ye must." * Can we forget the parting tear, The father, brother, son? Can we forget to Freedom dear Their crown of glory won ? Long as a sacred fire shall burn Within a human breast, So shall our hearts toward them yearn Our heroes now at rest.? O. yes, as long as stars shall shine, And sun shall rise and set; As long as Freedom hath a shrine, We cannot them forget. ^ O'er them the dear old flag shall wave, The flag 'neath which they fell; And Freedom's sons o'er their gpsves, Shall dirge and anthem swell. ' (Brecn flDountain State. Green Mountain State, thy stalwart men Have honored thee with sword and pen; Thy daughters, fair, are brave and true, As ever smiled 'neath heaven's blue. Here is no lord, or servile slave, No room to live, or find a grave. Time's changes come, and bring decay, But O, thy hills pass not away; Thy mountains green, majestic stand, Like truth, eternal they shall be. O, in our constellation, bright, Thou art a star of glorious light ; A little giant, proud and grand; Helping to guard a Nation's fate, With power and justice of a state. Thy name, and fame shall live for aye, Shall swell the anthem of the free ; In all the ages yet to be, Throughout our own, and every land. Sweet Summer, Gbou art Gone, Sweet Summer, thou art gone, And Autumn now is here; We meet thee with a smile, A kiss, and with a tear. We meet thee with a smile, For thy beauteous dawn oflight; We meet thee with a kiss, For blushing sweetly into night. We meet thee with a tear, We knew most passing well, That thou wouldst go and leave us, And bid us all farewell. Yet Summer, lovely Summer, Shall we not meet again, When snow-wreaths have wasted, From valley, hill and plain ? When Spring-buds of promise Have blossomed into flowers, And-song birds have cheered us, ' Mid sunshine and 'mid showers. Again with loving hearts, O, dearest may we meet, And tread among thy roses, With strong and stainless feet. autumn. Autumn, I love thee " Season of mellow Fruitfulness, of the sere and yellow leaf." What hand of art, most perfect, so nicely paint As Nature doth for Thee? with colors bright, Arrayed, blending, are those of richest hue. What gorgeous splendor in the scene around. In thy noon-tide glory, how beautiful, How grand, and how sublime. The forest old, Stands decked in thy rich vesture, resplendent, Stately and tall, with age honorable; From years of youthful bloom, to manhood's prime, Budding and blossoming, in time olden, And meeting the chilling blasts of winter, As the seasons rolled their eternal rounds. There's such an awe in thy solemn grandeur, It makes me love thee more,-more than all else; Tis this which leads my soul to contemplate The wondrous works of God,d^6me loved retreat, It seeks, wrapped in its clayey tenement. To commune with Him, maker of all things, Who puts thy glory on. Alas* how soon The never-staying hand of time, will rob Thee of thy golden locks, and fling around The pall of gloom, thyself in Winter's arms, t dbil&boofc's 1bome. Green is the turf whereon I trod, In childhood's merry glee; Where first I learned the name of God, Upon my mother's knee. CHORUS. My childhood's home, my childhood's home, I now no longer see ; Yet, when afar I from it roam, 'Tis mine in memory. The merry brook went prattling by^ Its banks were bright and green; Singing to me its lullaby, But now, how changed the scene. ' Twas there our humble cottage stood, With sunny bank before, From whence came forth the prattling brood,- Aye then, but now no more. There flowed the sweetly murmuring rill, In accents soft and low; Though years have flown, 'tis whispering still Of scenes^ long, long ago. 25 CHORUS. My childhood's home, my childhood's home, I now no longer see; Yet, when afar I from it roam, 'Tis mine in memory. Father and mother, there were mine; Brothers and sisters dear; And there the altar's sacred shrine, But now, no longer there. And there were those who roamed with me The wildwood and the dell; Whose hearts were young, and gay, and free; We meet no more. Farewell. Stern Death has found his victims there, Has laid them in the tomb; In morning's life, the young and fair,' Cut off in youthful bloom. Age, youth, and friends, and time have fled, ' Mid changes, great and small, But O, ye living, and ye dead, I love, 1 love ye all.* CHORUS. My childhood's home, my childhood's home, I now no longer see; Yet when afar I from it roam, 'Tis mine in memory.* 26 I come and homage pay to thee, So terrible, haughty and free ; - O, wonderful Niagara. ? I stand upon thy rugged shore ; I hear thy plunging waters pour; - I see, I feel, thy mighty power. - Oh; cataract of olden time ; - Most wonderful of any clime; Oh J who can paint the scenes sublime? Thy awful grandeur fills the soul, With wonder, far beyond control/ Supremely felt, and yet untold.^ $ Oh,, who can picture long ago ? - When first thou met Ontario; Or broad Atlantic far below? Oh,fwhence, or where thy waters spedj When first upon thy rocky bed, The light of day its glory shed ? Far o'er the vista of long years, Is thrown the veil of misty tears, Eternity thy echo hears. . Superior, and Huron, come, And Michigan, and Erie, dumb, - And find in thee a living tomb. - 27 Speed oiij^ majestic, proud and freey A world pays homage unto thee, Oh, wonderful Niagara. I Winter, 1843*44. Stern Winter reigns o'er all the land, With undiminished sway; He graspeth all with icy hand, Who cometh in his way. The snow-clad hills, and mountains bold, Lift up their hoary head, And seem like one who hath grown old, Their youth and beauty fled. The crystal Frost bedecks the trees, Or deathly broods the flower; Ah; yes, the cold and chilly breeze, Bespeaks old Winter's power. With icy fetters binds the streams, The sparkling, flowing rill, Where silent, lay the cold sunbeams. And all is lone and still. And saddened Nature sleepeth on, Deep buried in her tomb; And heedeth not, with hope forlorn, Amid the deep'ning gloom.'i 28 Ibastc Gfoou Sinner. Haste thou sinner, lone and weary, For danger lieth in the road; And the way is dark and dreary. While a wanderer from thy God/ Speed thee on thy darksome journey, For howling tempests gather 'round; And soon the bolts of heaven's thunder, May break and pour its awful sound.! Then poor sinner, where for shelter, Where wilt thou Bee to hide thy head; In thy blood then wilt thou welter. Oh, shun the wrath of God most dread. Oh, methinks I hear you saying, I now will turn to God and live ; ^ While the bolts of wrath he's staying,; My soul, my all to Him I'll give. So, that when His fury, bursting, Upon a world of sin and woe; While His arrows, barb'd are piercing, Quite the guilty sinner through. I may find a place in heaven, A happy home where angels dwell; And thece with all that are forgiven, ""** fr The song of ransomed spirits swell. 1bope. Hope, 'tis a word both great and good, Most mighty in its sway; For many years strong hath it stood, While chasing doubt away. A tower and bulwark of defense, To all who in it trust; A light, a joy to feeble sense, A guide for sinful dust. Hope/tis a gem itself the thing Which bids us look and see; Which soars on Faith's sublimest wings, Into futurity. Hope, like an anchor to the soul, Guides safely o'er the deep,* Where giant waves, and billows roll? Her vigil there doth keep. Our bark, of winds and waves the sport, Glides joyfully along; With Hope to guide us, and escort, With her bright banner nV<"*- ^p By Hope, through Faith, the Christian looks, Fo'r Grace, and Strength divine ; And with the key of Faith unlocks, And views a fairer clime. He hopes that when his days are past, And all his work is done; To sing a song of joy at last, Which was on earth begun.? February, 1842 acrostic Many are the joys and sorrows, In this lifej 'tis ours to know. Never comes to us to-morrows, Neverj'-while we onward go. In to-day, of golden moments; Ever find we weal or woe. ? Envy not the lot of others; Virtue is a priceless boon. Endear thyself to sisters., brothers, Let sunlight in thy heart find room. Youth and beauty never die No* eternal are the ages. f Morning scatters night away, O, let us as we turn life's pages, Resolve, to better live each day. So may we seek, -contentment find; Ever in heart, ever in mind. "? 3 1 Zlbc prater for Xife. A Nation's prayers ascend to-day, From loyal hearts incessantly; To God, the President may live, That He to him, yet strength will give, So he may rise from bed of pain, To bless us and the world again. Ohf why should murderous hand be raised, To take his life, to end his days? Oh/ God, it is Thy mystery, ? We vainly search, we cannot see, Why he who first among us stood, Why he so strong, noble and good, Friend of his race, of sin the foe, Should sink beneath a maniac's blow. The Nation's pulses throb and thrill, With his so quick, so strong of willy Through aU the day with fever heat, In unison together beat/ Through all the night of mortal pain, And when the morning came again., Calmest of all his soul appears; To give us hope, quiet our fears: OhJHope so small, first to us gave, Only one ray, this side the grave. ," ^r nguished souls, oh, tearless eyes,. tour of dread, how paralyzed All hearts, but lo/far o'er the sea, From the Old World, comes sympathy. < God's messengers How swift they go, # A To carry news of weal ajid woe. i O, messengers of love, ye came, Flying like lightning's vivid flame, Over the wires ; at God's commands, From s) mpathetic^Christian lands.; Earth's crowned heads and potentates, Sent words of cheer. to bar the gates, Of death I to bear our chieftain up, Oh, to assuage Woe's bitter cup. - of good, to mortal sight, 1 Dispelling shades of coming night, May freedom lend a brighter ray, For those who lead her hosts to-day, While all bow down and humbly own, Jehovah reigns His will be Live? manly soul, battling for life; Comes from the homes ot all the free.- The world awaits this great, grand strife; And countless millions yet to be^ Shall rise to read,and bless thy name, Enrolled upon the lists of fame. T 33 a 1b\>mn from tbe 96tb i Sing to the Lord a new-made song; O, all ye people of the earth, Loud shout and let your praise prolong, Those joyful sounds of heavenly birth. Sing unto Him, and praise His name, By whom we're kept from day to day; And to the heathen, dark, proclaim, His glory in your heavenly lay. His glory sing, His wonders tell, Displayed in Heaven, in earth, in air, Thy holy joy, our bosoms swell, While we a new-made song prepare. Honor, and strength, and majesty, To Father, Son and Holy Ghost, Pour forth with heavenly minstrelsy, Our songs of praise delightful, most. Ye Heavens rejoice, and earth of rock, And hill and dale and mountain form; And burning fires of earthquake shock, And ye aloud, O, tempest storm. Thou waving sea, be glad, rejoice, And lift in praise your billows high, With thunder roar or hollow voice, With fearful gale or rippling sigh. 34 Sing to the Lord a new-made song, f And bless Him for His holiness; And let it sweetly flow along, Up to His throne of heavenly grace. December, 1842. Xifc is Sbort. Life is short and time is fleeting, Soon the day of life is fled. Soon each heart now proudly beating. Will lie numbered with the dead. Precious moments, swiftly flying, Linger not with us to stay, But bear us on, living or dying, To the spirit land away. Oh, how transient is life's morning, Faded soon is beauly's bloom; And manhood, in its glorious dawning, Shrouded for the silent tomb. And old age, with locks all hoary, Tottering ready for its fall ; Short is Life. Oh, short is glory, Short is most for each and all.. Published in -Vermont Christian Messenger, Feb. 26, 1854. 35 Gbe Gelling Bell. Hear ye the tolling bell? How mournfully it peals, how sad and slow,* Death has hurled his dart, another is laid low; Has bid to earth, farewell, f Another mortal's gone, Is numbered with the silent, sleeping dead; The spirit, freed, hath taken wings and fled Where we are hastening on. ? O How short our life below; How soon our clays are past, our journey o'er; Each one and all to reach that distant shore/ How swiftly on we go. f O, swiftly on we glide? Unconsciously adown Time's rapid stream. Until at last upon our visions, gleam j The eternal portals, wide.r Hear'st thou the tolling bel^ f Mortal? Oh^it will toll for thee, for me; Perchance to-morrowr-to-morrow it may be^ Or sooner, none can tell, f Pub. G. M. F., Feb. 1854. for Minter. Now Winter is with us again, His mantle about us is spread; No flowers of Summer remain To tell of the fragrance they shed. The voices of Nature are still, Her minstrels are shrouded in gloom The valley, the meadow and hill, No longer appear in their bloom. The forest is leafless and sad, The grove is deserted and lone; There's nothing to make the heart gladj Since music of Summer is gone. The storm-clouds are out in the sky, The tempest is howling around; With fetters which seem to defy, The Ice King the rivers hath bound. How gloomy the prospect appears, How cheerless the scenery to me; Lo, Nature is silent, in tears, In bondage, she sighs to be free. The squirrel and bee are at rest, Domestics are gathered in fold; Sure nothing unsheltered were blest, To perish or starve in the cold. How merrily tinkle the bells, Full many a starry, cold night ; 37 While passing the valleys and hills, The coursers speed on in their flight. With rapture each bosom now swells, The spirit so light and so free; The maidens are musical bells, So blithesome and merry are they. Yet Winter, Ohf Winter we sigh, With Nature again to be free; O, speed thee, O, hasten and fly. We'll gladly say farewell to thee.? For brighter and fairer is Spring, Its sunshine more dear to our heart; Then hasten on readiest wing, And from us in kindness depart. <> Iftame of HDorse. The name of Morse shall live for aye,/ Lo/telegranij " What hath God wrought," First thrilled along the trembling wires i By spark of electricity, t And heaven and earth have made replyj Which all the world with faith inspires; Proclaims,, " Live on,, thou germ of thought Immortal name,, shall never die." * jfuneral O, yes thy spirit now hath gone ; Thy soul from earth hath fled; Upon the wings of angels borne, To its triumphant Head. From sin and sorrow, pain and death, Thou art forever free ; We saw Thee gasp thy latest breath, We sighing, mournfully. Great God, impart to us thy grace, And make our hearts to feel, So we may humbly seek thy face, Before Thee humbly kneel. And when our work on earth is done, And we to death are given ; Pardon receive from thy dear Son, And find a home in heaven. Hymn composed by myself, copied off and written for the funeral of my father and sung on that occasion. November, 1841. 39 Jfrom Eartb II Soared Hwa\x From earth I soared away, On Fancy's borrowed wings, Up to the realms of day, Where joy eternal springs. Twas there I saw the blest, And saints and angels high; Forever at their rest, Where Pain and Sorrow fly. Nor yet are they at rest, Forever beaming bright, They lean upon His breast Whose robes are purely white. And fall at Jesus' feet, And sing the song of love ; Harmoniously sweet, The anthem swells above. Through Heaven it sweetly rolls, And mingles with the light, Which crowns immortal souls, And makes them purely white. I saw the streets of gold, And walls of jasper there, And spotless hosts unfold Victorious palms, they bear. 40 Thou, pass'd .the pearly gates, Forever now at home,' No more with loves and hates, A world of sin to roam.* And yet the crowning Light, Upon His throne I see; Dazzling with splendor bright^ All immortality, f Too bright for mortal gaze, I left the courts above, Still list'ning to the lays? And wond'ring at such love. December, 1845. She Bobolink The bobolink is merry, A merry fellow he.- He sings with joyful glee, Lo-pit-I-kit-ti-e-r-ry, Lo-kit-lo-kit-lo-kee. He bathes his wings in sunlight, He hovers o'er the flow'rs; And warbles his sweet chorus , Through all the blissful hours, Lo-pit-lo-kit-ti-e-r-ry, Lo-kit-lo-kit-lo-kee. Down in the meadow yonder, He sports all royally ; He frolics in the clover, And plays the cooing lover. Sings lo-pit-ti-kit-ti-e-r-ry, Lo-kit-lo-kit-lo-kee. A funny feathered fellow, So comical to see; Black, white, red and yellow, He sings all gay and free, Lo-pit-lo-pit-ti-e-r-ry, Lo-pit-lo-kit-lo-kee. He's happy 'mong the roses, Sweet June's his holiday; 43 He soon will leave the posies, With vvifey fly away. Down to the sunny Southland, Through winter there to stay; The jolly bob-o-link-tum, And then return in May, Singing his lo-pit-lo-pit-ti-e-r-ry Lo-kit-lo-kit-lo-kee. f Scraps. See proud Majestic cleave the waves ; The broad Atlantic swiftly o'er: In six days time, or less, no more,, From land to land, from shore to shore.? The (dfible grapples Ocean's caves. And rests on Mermaid's hidden graves. Or shallow seas its bosom laves; - Beneath the billowy, briny waves. ? 'Tis sweet to be remembered*" When all without is drear; True friendship is a treasure, A blessing ever Is on the hillside streaming. Slumber break, stir, awakef While on thy cheek is glowing, Blooming health, greatest wealthy That life's on thee bestowing, y Let not sleep drowsy?keep, Thee on thy pallet snoozing; Early rise, seize the prize, And see the day's dawn and closing.^ IRepeal Repeal^ repeal^ oh^ far and wide, Let hill and valley ring ; Repeal, repeal,, each mountain side, Sends back its echoing. Our happy homes, no longer free, For those who hither flyj That they may taste sweet liberty; Repeal, repeal the cry. f What though but scorn our prayer may meet, Petition, cry repeal ; 'Till thunder shakes the Judgment Seat, And legislators kneel. ? For liberty, unmoved by awe, Let sober reason speak ; And doomed shall be the odious law, f Which makes blest freedom weep. IRcw l?eai\ A bright New Year has come again, How light he trips along; He lists not to the wild wind's roar, Nor to the merry song. He flies o'er the mountain, hill and dale, He enters every door; Upon his face the mystic veil, He from the Old Year tore, f "My time has come," the Old Year said, "My last day now is o'er; So take thou this of crimson red, And wear it as I wore."? "The eyes of man shall strive in vain, To read thy changeful face; Wear it as tr? Uilfdays of yore, The eldest of our race."? And thus the New Year comes again, How light he trips along; He lists not to the wild wind's roar; x Nor to the merry song. 54 Iftovember. November is a gloomy month, Yet beauty in its gloom ; Though Nature's sweets have most decayed, And found an early tomb. There's gloom upon the forest trees. With mourning they are clad, And nothing in the dismal scene To cheer or make them glad. There's gloom upon the mountain top, And gloom within the valley; And there is gloom in moaning winds, When they around us rally. Ther'es gloom when tempest-clouds and storms With violence are driven; And whirlwinds feel the biting lash, Of the charioteers of Heaven. November is a gloomy month, Yet beauty in its gloom; Though Nature's sweets have most decayed, And found an early tomb. There's beauty in the moonlight eve, When stars are shining bright; And all the host of Heaven appear, Refulgent with their light. 55 'Tis then I love to wander out, Their loveliness to see; And view the glowing splendors, light, The vault of Heaven's canopy. A pure and steady light they burn, A flame of living light; While every orb helps constitute The diadem of night. November is a gloomy month, Yet beauty 'mid its gloom; Though Nature's sweets have most decayed, And found an early tomb. anfc Satmess. Joy and Sadness, Grief and Gladness, Are combined together; Our Hope in One, bright as the sun, Is banished by the other. jfatber anb fIDotber. My father and mother have gone to their rest; And found as we hope a home with the blest; From sorrow and sighing, forever are free, In the blessed abodes of eternity. My dearest, good mother, was the first one to go, On her brow was the paleness, on her cheek the hectic glow; She saw that consumption was wasting away. Yet breath'd not a prayer here longer to stay. But calmly, when death was wasting her form, With composure prepared, for a fairer, brighter morn. When her time had come, and her spirit had fled. With hope in her soul, she slept with the dead. After years had elaps'd, my father laid down, A wearysome burden for an immortal crown. Long wearysome watchings, of sorrow and pain, Were his to endure, 'til Death, the conquerer came. They have passed through a world of troubles and cares; And leave us, their children, to encounter its snares ; Their counsel we know, for often 'twas given, Let wisdom on earth direct you to Heaven. Farewell^ then, dear parents, your sufferings are o'er; Nor would we recall you, from Heaven's bright shore. No, rather in silence, in solitude weep, While you each are embalmed in memory deep. 57 O|/ farewell, but ever may you live in our heart, Till we, from from this world so fading, depart* And then may our spirits, o'erflowing with love, Eternally mingle, in union above, f April, 1845. doulfc We But IRnow. Could we but know, or could we see, Our lot on earth^r-what is to be, Would it more joy, or sorrow give? Despair, the most, or faith to live? O, joyous is the heart, or sad; Despondent, or 'tis light and glad; With hope to cheer us on our way; Yet looking for a brighter day. Of but for hope our heart would break,- So 'twas the tongue of mortal spake, In olden time, is it not true Of each and all, myself and you? No wish or thought, no eye can The future of Eternity, if Oh,' only Hope and Faith,, sublime, Can soar beyond the bounds of Time,- Late Poem. 58 HDemorial Ibpmn. (Bedeck their graves.) Bedeck their graves with choicest flow'rs, The sweetest flow'rs of Springy _ In these sublime and pensive hours. Our tribute here we bring. ^ Sad mother, weep thy absent one, Sister, thy brother dear ; Proud father, o'er thy noble son, Let fall thy manly tear. - CHORUS. The Union forever, cemented with blood;: May nothing it sever, O, r merciful God. . For ohf they bade their country live. In Freedom's darkest hour, And in their death; they to it gave, A great and glorious dow'r. Dark was the morn, and dark the day; The nation clad in woe^; When her foul sj^in^vas washed away, In their life-blood's crimson flow, f CHORUS. The Union forever, cemented with blood ;r May nothing it sever, O, merciful God. ! Sleep on, O, noble heroes, sleep; Ye lov'd and tried and true; 59 While Freedom's sons shall come and weep, A nation's love for you/ And strew the sweetest flowers of Spring, Upon each soldier's grave; Who gave his life an offering, Our glorious land to save. CHORUS. The Union forever, cemented with blood ; ? May nothing it sever, O, merciful God. Composed 1871 or 1872. Death. Stern Death is on our track, Though noiseless he may be; Whatever windings we may make, We cannot from him flee. In Pleasure's flowery road, In Folly's blinding way; In Virtue's paths, by many trod, He follows silently. And though we see him not, Nor can his footsteps hear, We shall be his, for 'tis our lot, To grace his sable bier. 60 TKHaitin0 for tbe IRain. Waiting, waiting, waiting, Waiting for the rain. It seems as though it never Would bless our homes again. Scorching the lurid sunshine, On valley, hill and plain ; These drouthy days of summer, With languor on their train. Sultry the air, and fitful, The winds that sigh in vain; We look, and wait, and murmur, Of blasted hopes again. Each tree, and leaf, and flower, Or what of them remain, Invoke a potent shower, To bless each germ again. Waiting, hoping, trusting, Despairing, yet not slain, All life is thirsting, praying,, For the cool, life-giving rain.! Composed 1875. or near^severe drouth. a Ibpmn of praise ant> Invocation. Of God, to thee I bend the knee, To thee I humbly own Obedient bow, and worship now The Lord upon His throne, f Another day has passed away, And now the night comes on; Thy pow'r has kept, while time has reapt, And Death his work has done. Of may I be thankful to Thee For all thy mercies shown ; My sins forgive, and may I live Nearer thy great white throne? My pray'r is said, and on my bed I lay me down to rest; O, safely keep, while I do sleep, And fold me to thy breast. * And when the light, dispels the night, And reds the morning skies; May I anew, my way pursue, My journey to the skies, t January, 1844. There is a State out in the West, Close nestling by Mississippi's side;_ By Nature and by man 'tis blest, With fields magnificent and wide. And would you know her name, my boy? It is our glorious Illinois. ? Tis but of late the red man trod; Among the wild flowers in their bloom. And swiftly o'er her virgin sod> The deer was chased and met his doorn, By warrior brave and Indian boy, Along the shores of Illinois.- And o'er her prairies,- broad and free, The buffalo did graze and roam. Where now the golden grain we see, - Where now we find a pleasant home.; And glad to speak with pride and joy, The glorious name of Illinois. All honor to the men who came* The bold and hardy pioneers; With hands and hearts, to till and tame^^ The way prepare for coming years. Three cheers for them, three cheers, my boy, The pioneers of Illinois, t Gof farmer, follow up the plow, And plant with care the willing soil; Plant trees as well as corn, and vow Tis not thy mission to destroy ; But rather elevate* my boy ; The glorious name of Illinois.: And while our tribute here we pay, To those who've come and gofce beforej Arise/ Majestic, lead the way, O, v Prairie State, forevermore,? The Empire State may bear, my boy, The glorious name of Illinois. ' Strains 2>iv>ine. Strains divine, peal'd- forth anew, And on the wings of cherubs flew, Up to Heaven. Stern Winter IReigns. Stern Winter reigns, triumphant now, And spreads his wings abroad ; He pays his yearly, snowy vow, And Heaven ward, points to God. .' One year ago we welcomed thee, And now again thy beauty see. Behold again thy loveliness. Which does the eyes of millions bless. And fain with harp of merry string, Would of thy graces gladly sing. And what, has May returned again, To robe in green the fruitful plain? And hill and valley, high and low, Say, of her comings do you know? O, yes, for flowers are on her brow, And shed their fragrance o'er us now. And springing fresh within our vales, They listen to the merry tales Of thousand songsters as they sing, And float away on airy wing. Ask of her coming, do you know, When such music forth doth flow. We tell you nothing else to-day, Could cause such joy as youthful May Then joy awake within my heart, And let me take some humble part, While all creation sweetly sings, And claps for joy her thousand wings. 65 Thy breath, O, Spring, we did inhale, And life and health we did inhale, When first the ray of morning broke, And things inanimate awoke. Twas then the stately forest old Stood forth, its presence to unfold; Bright beaming like a ray of truth, In all the innocence of youth. And thus she stood, welcome that day, The wintry storms had passed away. Her eternal years and hoary age Had fled before a brighter page. The shades of death far from her fly, While she whispers joyfully: Come lovely songsters to my bow'rs, Come and deck me, fragrant flowers, For youth and beauty, all combine, A wreath of laurel to entwine. Then next in place stood they of song, To share the bliss which seemed so young, And forth outright with merry glee They poured their sweetest minstrelsy. And thus they sang with gladsome notes And music, made from mellow throats: Up now, ye flowers, and view the morn. Behold the millions yet unborn; 66 Come forth and blossom, fragrance shed, No longer deem we all are dead. Join in the song and swell the theme; Awake, and view the morning's beam; Arise, and see the forest gleam, And know that Nature doth redeem, From sleep and death, from wintry clime, And bringeth back the blest Springtime. 'Twas thus the flowers made their reply: We gladly hear your melody, We thank you for your kind invite, And hope we soon shall bless your sight; And shed our fragrance on the air, And greet the song that's swelling there. We love the Spring, its rocks and vales, Its hills and valleys, verdant dales. We love its sunlight, bright and clear, We love the freshness of its air. We love to look from woodlands green, And all the spacious room between. We love the sounds of joyous mirth, Waking o'er the radiant earth. We like to hear the cascade's fall, And waters to each other call. We love the song all Nature sings : Hosannah to the King of Kings. May, 1845, 67 Speak ltfnW\>. Speak kindly to each other, Speak with all loving kindness; And remember that thy brother Sees best thy own deep blindness. All sometimes are in error; And some are faulty often. Speak kindly to each other; For harsh words cannot soften. Speak kindly and forgiving, For words in anger spoken, Forever they are living; When tender ties are broken. Speak kindly to thy neighbor; He sees not his own weakness. Speak kindly-for peace labo$, Thy duty, in all meekness. Speak kindly ; full of sorrows, Are the hearts of many others; Aid and cheer them, for to-morrow, Thou may'st need from thy brothers, Speak kindly ;-full of frailty Are we allj-mnless forgiving, Can we, poor and erring mortals, Hope to meet at last in Heaven? 68 Gears. Who hath not known their worth? They often bring relief To hearts when full of grief, To the sorrowing ones of earth, They often bring relief. Be not ashamed to weep. Down let the tear-drops roll. The anguish of the soul, They tell how strong and deep, They tell how strong and deep, Down let the tear-drops roll.* They are the Spirit's friend. Then let them fill the eye, And chase away the sigh That doth with anguish rend ; That doth with anguish rend ; Then let them fill the eye. Sparkling like dewy gems, They bless us ere we know. They soften human woe. Richer than diadems, Richer than diadems. They bless us ere we know. 69 Who would without them be? Mortal, could'st thou not weep, Thy joys and sorrows deep, What would become of thee? What would become of thee, Mortal, could'st thou not weep? Through them we look to Heaven. In answer to our prayer, Hoping for mercy there, We read our sins forgiven ; We read our sins forgiven ; In answer to our prayer. 70 poor. The poor, oh, they are many, And scattered far and wide; They dwell among the mountains, And by the ocean's tide. They live by plain and river, They throng the busy street, And many are the noble hearts Which in their bosoms beat. They build not costly houses, Nor Mammon is their God ; They live in little cottages, Their sweat bedews the sod. Theirs are the hands that labor, To earn their daily bread; Without a downy pillow, On which to lay their head. Without the ease and comfort, The rich so much possess; Who sooner will oppress them, Than comfort, love and bless. They toil and strive and struggle, With poverty and care; And many are the hardships They meet and meekly bear. 71 Though sometimes they may murmur, So hard their earthly lot ; And strive to live as honest, Though change it they may not. And theirs are hidden sorrows, No human heart can know; O, many are the secret tears, Which from their fountains flow. Though they may know contentment, More than the wealthy, far ; Who live in costly splendor, With naught but wealth to mar. Though small their earthly treasure, More honest they may be, Than they who scorn them for their lot, And roll in luxury. And Heaven may be nearer, Their hope's bright glorious home; Where they may dwell forever, Where Mammon cannot come. Hll mature Sings. All Nature sings; Its chorus rings, While echo brings Upon its wings Sublimest things. I hear its voice ; It bids rejoice With ceaseless noise; And O, what toys, Presents its joys! Its do, la, se, Singeth to me ; And land and sea Are full of glee ; O, bend the knee. O, one and all, Down let us fall; For from this ball Its voice doth call, Behold and fall, t 73 a Sister's IDpins Jfarewcll. Farewell, my friends, farewell, I go ; But let no tear of sorrow How ; Mourn not for me, O, do not weep, When calmly I shall fall asleep, When gently death shall close my eyes, To ope again in Paradise. This world is beautiful, 'tis true, Of light and shade, and youth and bloom; And now I go away to view A fairer one beyond the tomb, Whose beauties bright shall ever be Illuming long Eternity. Farewell, ye woods, ye birds, ye flowers, Ye cooling shades, refreshing showers, Ye hills and dales and mountain forms, Ye moaning winds, ye tempest storms; No more of you my senses tell ; But, oh, 'tis hard to say farewell! Rocks, founts and rills, and flowing streams, Ye balmy airs and morning beams, Ye clouds and skies, and day and night, Ye morn and eve, with beauty bright, Sun, moon and stars, and mournful knell, I now must bid you all farewell."? Farewell, my home, my native hearth, To me the dearest spot on earth. Adieu, vain hope and fleeting time ; I leave you for a fairer clime. . Ye holy days and Sabbath bell. Much have I loved you long" and well.? That brighter world breaks on my view ; My suff 'rings o'er, my journey through. Ye angel bands, my spirit bear, Far from this world of pain and care. Ye friends and scenes I've loved so well, With joy I breathe a last farewell. acrostic. ORPHA SHIPMAN. Cty Calvary^ 'tis oft 1 think of thee, Red with bloody, dying agony; Put on my soul thy own immortal light, Hushed in deep awe, yet trembling at the sight,: An ashy paleness settles on thy brow. Savior, Redeemer, and Lord, but Thou Hast strength thy dying agony to bear f In answer to thy last imploring prayer, Prayer offered upj-but not for strength alone, My god forgive them, blent with every groan. Ages have fledj-that prayer for thee, for me; Ne'er dies^but lives with scenes of Calvary, f 75 Spring. O, gentle Spring, thou hast returned once more; The Winter's past, his dismal reign is o'er, And thou hast come with song and light and flowers, With sunshine, soft blue skies, refreshing showers. The gushing founts, unfettered now and free, Are leaping forth in all their merry glee. The brooks again, full of their pleasing tales, Go tattling on through newly tiower'd vales. The grass springs forth, all bright and green again, All beautiful, from valley, hill and plain. A carpet soft for mortal feet is spread, All decked with gems in colors bright arrayed. The dandelion rears its head of gold; The violets meek, their tiny leaves unfold. Forth from their homes the merry children stray; New treasures find, each warm and sunny day. The herds are out upon the verdant hills, And lambkins sport around the sparkling rills. Again the woods put on their leafy bloom, And verdure springs from last year's early tomb. The husbandman resumes his welcome toil, And seeds with willing hands the precious soil. The feathered tribes, O, Spring, return with thee; And fill the air with their sweet minstrelsy. Sweet is the song, O, sweet the matin lay, Which ushers in each new, succeeding day ! Faith, Hope and Joy, expectant now arise, And mingle with the music of the skies. f Welcome, sweet Spring, in all thy youthful bloom, Thrice welcome in thy Nature's happy home. ? Us there a 2Dap without a HDorn? Is there a day without a morn ? Is there a rose without a thorn ? Is there a hope without a fear? Is there a smile without a tear? Is there a night without an end? Oh! who would live without a friend? Is anyone without their woes? We search in vain for a thornless rose. Is there a bliss without a sigh?_ O, all the living, sure, must die. Is there a face so sweet and fair, But leaves a trace of sorrow there? O, are there lips but what have pressed A blessing on a mother's breast? O, sad the heart without a friend, X2)*' life immortal, cannot end. - Late Poem. 77 There's beauty in the blushing morning, But it soon fades away. There's beauty in the lovely evening, But it soon fades away.? There's beauty in the blooming flower, But it soon fades away. There's beauty in the rainbow shower, But it soon fades away, f There's beauty on the sunlit mountain, But it soon,, fades away. There's beauty in the sparkling fountain, But it soon fades away. * There's beauty in the flowing river, But it sobn fades away. There's beauty in the leaves that quiver, But it soon fades away, f There's beauty in the foaming billows, But it soon fades away. There's beauty in the weeping willows, But it soon fades away, t There's beauty in the seasons vernal, But it soon fades away. There's beauty in things eternal, But it soon fades away. ? 78 There's beauty in the lovely Springtime, But it soon fades away. There's beauty in the golden Autumn, But it soon fades away. tf There's beauty in the vernal Summer, But it soon fades away. There's beauty in the hoary Winter, But it soon fades away, 'i There's beauty in our early childhood, But it soon fades away. There's beauty in our glorious manhood, But it soon fades away, f But there is a beauty that does not fade, 'Tis away in yonder Heaven. On the Savior our burden was laid, His life for us was given, f 79 Spring appears. 'Neath April's genial sky The golden sunbeams lie, The clouds of darkness fly, And beauty reigns. The Winter winds have gone, On wings away have flown. No more their tempest tone Is heard around. The buds of Spring- appear, And soon will blossom here, The heart of man to cheer. Nature most fair. For 'scaped her wint'ry tomb, With all its dismal gloom. She comes in youthful bloom, And sweetly smiles. And joy and hope are there, And fill the balmy air, With incense sweet as prayer, Then rise above. All nature sweetly sings, And claps her thousand wings, Creation's chorus rings, And tells of God. f 1844. 80 (Brant. The war-clouds had gathered In our country's sky ; &,e^e, f^ ^CJfi \s f ' And traitors had threatened To ruin or die; Our flag had insulted, And trampled in dust; By our forefathers bequeathed A great, sacred trust. And Sumpter had spoken, 'Mid flame and 'mid smoke, With cannon's loud thunder, And the whole land awoke With terror and with anguish, With fear and with gloom; The struggle commenced, The contest had come; And the blood of the Union, Of our sons and our sires, Was kindled, and mingled In the battle's fierce fires. Bull Run was enacted, With its hasty retreat ; Then followed disaster, Dismay and defeat ; 81 Our leaders all failed To conquer the foe; And the Union bewailed Its heroes laid low. Then Heaven smiled and gave us A leader, who came To the front of the battle, And GRANT was his name. Yes, Heaven smiled and gave us Our brave, good Ulysses, The loyal and true; To lead us and save us, With the boys in blue. How he planned, how he fought The foemen so well, Let Henry and Donelson His strategy tell. Like the dawning of day O'er the darkness of night, So our hero brought forth The morning of light. And Vicksburg and Lookout, And Mission's red flame, The -siege, and assault, Made glorious his name. 82 In the Wilderness' struggle, So fierce and so long, Where Lee with his army Was posted so strong; And where the wily chieftain Thought to turn him back, Grant battled for the Union, Nor lost he the track. Like the children of Israel, In the wilderness old. But planned in the darkness, And as a lion bold, In the morning his army Was on its last tramp, And flanking the foe, Broke ranks in his camp. A halo of glory Was shining around him; And Richmond was doomed, - The last siege before him.* He came in the darkness, - He ushered in the day; He rose from lowly station, He led to save the Nation ;- And war passed away. 83 Campaign Song. When Treason raised its monster head, And sought to rend our land in twain; Then Freedom's hosts uprose, and said, Our country must, and shall remain? Oh^ long and cruel was the strife; Oceans of blood and treasure flowed; To save for us the Nation's life, Imperiled by the threat'ning sword.? Defiant first, in Congress Halls; Then Sumpter. pierced, and bleeding, fell. Assailed again are Freedom's walls, Oh, brothers, ponder long and well.. The dying words of martyrs heed^ The admonitions which they gave; Regardless now of party breed, Freemen, be loyal, true and brave.. Think of the fathers, brothers, lost; And shall the struggle come again? Oh^God, at what a fearful cost, Was blotted out a Nation's shame f Oh, heed the lessons of the past, The warning call, ere 'tis too late; The dark'ning clouds their shadows cast; And doom or glory us await, f True liberty throughout our land^ And blessed peace and hope abidej O, ye who love our country, grand. Guard well her honor^and her pride. Like deaf'ning thunders in the sky, Like ocean's surges sweeping roar* Shout forth the loyal battle cry; Strike wit I 'residential Campaign, 1880. Strike with the ballot's mighty power. acrostic. SUSAN C. LOWKLL. Sweet are contentment's peaceful hours, Unmarked^ undimm'd by pain or care. Sweet, sweet as Eden's rosy bowersi And calm as evening-time of prayer. Not honor, glory, fame, or wealth; Can so impart the bloom of health. Let sweet contentment, then, be thine; O, sister dear, Watch, labor, pray; Enter the straight and narrow way. Live so thy end may peaceful be; Love well thy God, remember me. fleeter. What kind of time in measuring- rhyme, I leave it out to Peter; In sacred song, is short or long, Mostly in use, or common meter? There's six, and seven, ten, and eleven Meter; helps out the rhyming; But light the wear, upon the stair, Of pilgrims heavenward climbing. There is a kind we often meet; Another, found, of joyful sound. We lay the crown at Jesus' feet; Our loud hosannas there repeat ; 'Tis hallelujah, long and sweet. And one more kind, is all;combined ; 'Tis slower or 'tis fleeter,' And changed to suit, each part, not mute, Of every form and feature. Makes sad our songj or sweeter, O, bless the Lord,and Peter? 86 June {Training O, how I loved June training day, No matter what the weather; At shriek of fife, and beating drum, To march and strut together. Our captain's name, of world-wide fame, Was dear old Uncle Simon ; And long or short, of vague report, Our training on the common. Upon parade, a tall cockade, An awtul gaudy feather; Our captain wore, six hours or more^ No matter what the weather. At nine o'clock that blessed day, O, what a mighty drumming; They called the roll of every soul, To see if they were coming. *~ And then the drill, to noon until ; Of that dear old militia ; They shouldered arms, they grounded arms, Then dinner, smoke tobacco*^ And then, full stout^ they strutted out, To finish up so jollyj Then home away, that holiday, And tea^with Aunty Polly.t April, 1894. Cbilfcboofc. 'Tis oft backward I turn my eyes, Until sweet visions crowding come; Those scenes before me rise, Again I'm in my childhood's home. Again I hear my mother's voice, I sit upon my father's knee ; And mine again those little toys I treasured in rny childish glee. Brothers and sisters there I meet, And playmates where we played before ; O, there's no place on earth so sweet, As this I loved so much of yore. We leave again our own dear cot, When Spring returns with gentle showers, And wander o'er the little plot, And cull among the grass, the flowers. We wander by the pebbly brook, And pluck the flowers that sweetly bloom, And trace with care each shadowy nook That lies around our pleasant home. Again we tread the wildwood free, In Summer's warm and genial day, Where singing bird and busy bee Flitter and hum around our way. 88 Once more we climb the hillside steep, Where lambkins sport by sparkling rills; Once more the silver cascade's leap My youthful heart with rapture fills. Down in the mead again we go, The pond, the mill, familiar seem; The shady tree, the orchard, too; The bridge that crossed our own loved stream. At eve, a happy little band, We gathered round the cheerful hearth; We talked about the spirit land, And said how beautiful is earth. How blissful was each varying scene, Sweet flowers beneath, bright stars above, And songs of merry birds between, The gay, green earth^and stars we loved. Oh, happy childhood, back to thee I look through years of joy and pain; And fondly trace in memory The scenes I ne cr shall see again. Where now the humble little cot Wherein I drew my infant breath ? Deserted, lonely and forgot, And as the house of Death. And where are those who roamed with me The wildwood and the flowery dell? They're some upon the broad, blue sea, And some to earth have bid farewell. I wake as from a trance, - my dreams, * The brightness of thy days has fled ; No more for me thy golden beams, No more among thy flowers I tread. Adieu, I bid adieu to thee, While sighs my heaving bosom swell, Farewell, so joyous, bright and free, I bid thee long and last farewell. ? for Ht>am's IRace. ^<= **- For Adam's race of sinful man , A full atonement made has been; Sinners by him we all were mader On us his sinful nature laid: To him we trace our wretched fall, And each are cursed, each one^and all ; *"" Yet Jesus Christ a ransoms given,. That we may dwell at last in Heav'n.^ Q f in "Retirement anfc Blonc. Q, in retirement and alone I'd pass my time away; Would muse on Nature's lovely scenes While la pilgrim stay. Would pass in meditation deep The moments as they fly; And would for sake of poesy.? My powers,, unknown try. I'd gaze on scenes of beauty rare, Would study Nature's laws; Would, musing, try to trace the link Between effect and cause. The fields of Nature, widely spread, A rich repast would make; The world celestial, and the spheres, Which God in being spake. The golden sun, whose vernal rays, The light of every world, r*fft/weds light abroad, and by our God Was into chaos hurled. The Heavenly spheres, whose rolling might Eternal in their course, Majestic move, to us proclaim, Their never-ceasing force. 9' From Heaven's bright arch to earth's green sod I'd study Nature and her God; The things of earth that ^pward turn, The things of Heaven that brightly burn, All things in sea, in earth and air, Proclaim Almighty Power is there.? |ulv, 1842. acrostic. BETSEY JANE LOWELL. Betsey, be good to your father and mother, Especially to your mother be kind ; (t^.ffc*^ $ t c-& +~ Take pains to please your brother and sister, So shall you have peace and comfort of mind. Employ thy time doing well eschew evil; Your sayings and doings take care of. June roses are sweet and yet civil, And remember their beauty will wear off. Notwithstanding you're young and some witty, Excuse me, for it was a slip of the tongue, Lack not in well doing your duty, O, no, though you are but little and quite young. What a jewel is true friendship ! Remember, Enduring, and ever be it thine to share, Like the evergreen, green in December, Like the live-forever, green everywhere. December, 1844. mountain Ibome O, as fair and bright as Heaven's gay light Are the places where I roam ; The air is as free as the lightning's glee Around my mountain home. Around my mountain home. The air is as free as the lightning's glee Around my own dear mountain home. O, I love to dwell in the quiet dell, Where the wild-flowers sweetly bloom, Where the sparkling rills leap down from the hills Of my fairy mountain home. Of my fairy mountain home. Where the sparkling rills leap down from the hills Of my fairy mountain home. O, the eagle may fly far up in the sky At the hour of midsummer's noon; Yet farther I soar at the night's starry hour Within my silent mountain home. Within my silent mountain home. Yet farther I soar at the night's starry hour In my silent mountain home. Pub. G. M. F., March, 1850. .93 Where Sball tbe poet Jfinfc a beme? Where shall the poet find a theme? In fairy tale^-in pleasant dream, In bright- winged clouds of angel form. And in the lightning, in the storm. In every cup of sparkling dew* In every rainbow's blended hue, In sweetest, blushing rose of June, In every flower of sweet perfume. O, in the seasons as they roll In grandest awe from pole to pole, In youth* in age, in manhood's prime, In ringing bells of sweetest chime. In river's still, majestic flow. In ocean's caves, its waves below, In thought that soars from earth away., Up to the realms of endless day. In stars that glow with splendor bright, And crown the diademed night. In hope, in joy, in faith sublime, That soar beyond the bounds of time.* April, 1894. 94 ur Xife a Bream. Our life is but a dream. How few the moments seem, As quickly down its tide We swiftly onward glide With visions on our way. We're swiftly passing on, The rolling stream upon, Where clouds in anger frown And thunderbolts come down, We dash, we dash away. 'Mid storm and tempest now, The angry Heavens bow; Our trembling bosoms heave, Our hearts with sorrow grieve, We dash the tear away. But 'tis not always so, That thus we onward go, In sorrow and in grief, Without a kind relief, We've pleasure on our way. With sunshine and with bliss Beauty the skies doth kiss, And all serenely bright^ Us on our journey light, Make light our toilsome way. 95 And so it is with us Sometimes bless, sometimes worse; We're all upon the tide Of life, and swiftly glide Away, away, away. Can we forget the men of old Who raised the battle-cry, Who with prophetic eyCj foretold Triumph ofjiberty? Can we forget our soldiers dead, Who for then-Jiome and country died ? Can we forget our Lincoln's fall, Our greatest, noblest martyr slain The darkest crime. darkest of all* That can a nation's record stain ?f/ There love her golden harp shall take And chant immortal lays, Shall bid each joyful tongue awake To join the general praise. be Goto, Gbill fmtrt of 2>eatb. The cold, chill hand of death Is resting on thy brow, And from the scenes of this vain earth Thy spirit's passing now. And now the purple tide Of life has ceased to flow, No more to give to manhood's pride A rich and crimson glow. Unto the Spirit Land Thy soul did take its flight, While gathered here we mournful stand, Still bless'd with heavenly light. Now in the silent tomb We lay thee down to rest, While we remain, and pain and gloom Dwell in our aching breast. O, God! on Thee we call, And ask for grace divine ; O, bless us now, each one and all, And make us wholly thine. And may we see and feel Thou doest all things right; Our sins forgive, our pardon seal, And keep us by thy might. Lines composed on the death of a young man in Milford, Mass., 1842. 97 County in IRbpme. Tis but of late the Red Man trod Among her wildflow'rs in their bloom, And swiftly o'er her virgin sod The deer was chased and met his doom, By warrior brave and Indian boy, Along the shores of Illinois. Winnebago county on the north, And Stevenson about one -fourth, DeKalb js east, on south is Lee, Carroll on western bound we see. Rock River runs meandering through, Makes equal, east, and west sides^too; Southwesterly its course is seen; Prairies, woodlands/ and hills between. Seven towns the river lays along. The county seat is Oregon. Historic names appear to view, We've Lafayette and Taylor, too. On east side, north,-Scott and Monroe, And Marion northeast we show ; Byron on west side, Northline, planned, And Maryland, our Maryland." White Rock, Linnville, Flag and Dement, Southeast, help fill the complement, 9 8 Except Pine Rock and Nashua, On east side, which together lay. Leaf River, Foreston and Brookville, North and northwest, west side we hail, Eagle Point, Pine Creek and Buffalo Are in the southwest part, we know. Rockvale, Mount Harris^ and Haldan\e Come in between with one new name; The roll's complete with Grand Detour, Making in all just twenty -four./ E. R. Morse. Cboice. O, young and fair was that maiden rare, And her joyous spirit free As the winds that roam 'round her mountain home, While sporting in their glee. And before her lay, in bright array, The path in which she trod, While the flowers sweet, beneath her feet, Led her thoughts ofttimes to God. Make me your choice, said a small, still voice, Twas the blessed Savior's call, I am the light, the truth and the life, And the way to Heaven for all. Give thy heart to me and I will be Thy guardian and thy friend, While life shall last, and when it is past, Thy joys shall never end. Then the Tempter came and laid a claim To that jewel bright and rare; Maiden, said he, follow thou me, For the world is bright and fair. Thy pulse beats strong, thy life will be long, Sweet pleasures crown thy way; Heed not that voice, make me your choice. O, come thou with me away. IOO And thus she strove, with a creature love, Against the Savior's charms; And the things of earth, of meaner worth, She clasped within her arms. Then the Savior said, be not afraid, For I bled and died for thee ; Now come to me, come, in thy youthful bloom, And from all thy sins be free. This pearl behold, nor shining gold Nor earthly gem can vie, Treasure divine, make it thou thine, Wilt thou not not come and buy ? One thing I ask, a humble task Is it for thee to do, Give me thy heart and I will impart This treasure unto you. Then the maiden sought with all her heart The pearl of greatest price. And ever has been contented since then With her high and happy choice. Published in Vermont Christian Messenger, March 26, 1854. 101 lit is a Shame. It is a shame My countrymen, world-wide and dark, that we, With all our boastings, are not free; jr<2. C < s Our cg.yjjtry deals in human liesh and blood, And tramples on the image of our God. Who is to blame? It is a shame The fairest portion of our favored land Should wither 'neath th' oppressor's iron hand, A with'ring curse, and evil is the hour, Which gives to Slavery th' reins of pow'r In Freedom's name. It is a shame The dark-hued African is doomed to toil And till for naught, himself the spoiler's spoil, While white men revel and bless ofttimes the laws Which statesmen make for boasted Freedom's cause, Though poor and lame. It is a shame Our patriotic Congressmen yet meet To make our laws where Slavery holds her scat, And then unto their fettered brethren tell Of liberty, boast that they love it well. Always the same. It is a shame For northern freeman to quail and cower At Slavery's threat, oppression's boasted pow'r; It is a shame to boast of liberty While we ourselves uphold dark slavery. We are to blame. Gbe Ibeavens Gbp power proclaim, The heavens thy power proclaim, The stars, a shining flame, Shed forth their brilliant light, Beaming with beauty bright. A thousand orbs that shine, The starry heavens line ; And moon, the queen of night, That blesses us with light. The great and brilliant sun, That great and mighty one, The light of every world, Thou into chaos hurled.' Around which all things move, Thy power and wisdom prove, Speak thy wisdom, prove thy power Every moment, every hour. Come, Blooming Ibealtb. Come, blooming health, go thou with me, The far and lovely West to see; Bright hopes attend, ye prospects fair Around me smile the way prepare. Farewell my home, 'mong hills enshrined, Oft fanned by breeze of mountain wind; Adieu ! kind friends, ye sainted dead Who in the grave I mournful laid. But let me drop once more a tear, O'er dust I held in life so dear; And, kneeling on the sacred sod, Invoke the blessing of my God. And now I go leave all behind, Friends still, and those to dust confined; Adieu, New England's mountains green, And hills and vales smiling between. What glorious skies! what balmy airs! What wide-spread scenes compared to theirs. Here blooming nature smiles around, And says thy Paradise is found. Go forth in all thy manhood's prime, And reap the fruits of this fair clime; Go, view the wilderness in bloom, And find perchance, an early tomb. 104 Ah yes, the grave may wait him there, Stern death may bid him soon prepare. His mandate's call none can defer, O, who can stay the Conqueror? Or beauteous nature may prolong This threaded life, and make it strong, Through mercy's door, at God's behest, In all her blooming beauties drest. Vet no prophetic eye can know, The future, or its pages scan ; And thus it is with all below, Nor can we know the end of man. In letter to J. K., -November 19, 1846. 105 Gbristian. My work below which I begun Some years ago, is nearly done, And now I go to see the Son. All is well. I go to where my Savior reigns, For he has washed my sinful stains, And heav'n prepaid with groans and pains. All is well. I've labored long, my labor's o'er; I've suffered wrong, but will no more; I catch the song of heaven's shore- All is well. Come, friends, and see a Christian die, Come see him close the weary eye, Come and bid us last good-bye. All is well. Come, parents dear, give me your hand; Come brothers near, why far-off stand? O, dry your tears, ye sister band, All is well. Weep not for me, no, dry your tears; The king of terrors has no fears, Nor shall he through th' eternal years. All is well. io5 Weep not for me when I am gone, But cheerful be still journeying on, Till victory you all have won. All is well. And wandering sinner come and see The heav'n prepared for you and me, And happy be eternally. All is well. glory, glory! in my soul, Salvation's waves now o'er me roll, And make my panting spirit whole. All is well. My lasting home, in heav'n, bright heav'n, Jesus a pledge has surely giv'n; 1 know my sins are all forgiv'n. All is well. Farewell, farewell! My friends, farewell! I go away in heaven to dwell ; No more to sigh, or say farewell. All is well. December, 1844. 107 H Dcrmont Snow Storm. The storm breaks forth with fury now, And swiftly falls the snow Upon the mountain's cloud-top'd brow, And all around below. The virgin snow comes whirling down Fiercely from clouds above, That, lowering darkly, madly frown, Tempestuously move. With mantle white, old mother earth Is now most nicely covered; While dances round with breezy mirth That which o'er her hovered. The blanket that has on us come, A full foot and three inches, Closely keeps some denn'd up at home, Most quiet in their trenches. Old Boreas on the scene appears, And howling comes along; He takes us by the nose and ears While blowing out his song. Cuts up his shines, and whirls about, As if he did not care, And roaring, blustering, most stout, And strides, Oh, everywhere.? 1 08 But stop and look, there shines the sun; In your career now stop. And now my tale, but just begun, It'll end, and off I'll pop. ? On advent of a heavy snow storm, Feb. 18, 1842, Brookfield, Yt. Harken, O, youth^thou hast riches greater Than earth can bestow/-and hidden treasures More precious than gold;-and thine is a gem Brighter, more lustrous and of greater worth., Than all the gems that deck an earthly crown.? These riches are the fountains of thy heart> These treasures are the well-springs of thy joy; And that gem, it is thy immortal soul. ' Then wander notbut walk in wisdom's ways; Enrich thy mindradd to thy treasures. Beautify thy own,~adorn it daily, That gemra germ of immortality.; 109 , Softlp MKMOK1AL HYMN. Q, lightly, softly tread^ The nation mourns to-day, Its brave, heroic dead, While we our tribute pay. ? Come, bow the head and heart, Stretch forth the friendly handj O,*' peaceful be their sleep Who died to save our land.? Of strew ye flowers, sweet flowers, And let their fragrance rise, In these sublimest hours^ Like incense to the skies. 1 Let fall the pensive tear, And yearn each sorrowing heart,; A stricken band takes here With each and all a part.^ Q Freedom, look and Here is thine altar found; The living^and the dead Meet on this hallow'd ground^ And swear through blood and tears^ To guard with faithful hand, Through all the coming years, j, Our great, our glorious land.: "5 n tbe 2>eatb of ZEorrep. The martyr's gone in manhood's prime, His work on earth is done, He's gone to dwell in Freedom's clime, His crown of glory won. Oppression could not let him stay In this slave land of ours, Yet calmly went he on his way, Defying all its pow'rs. For God was his in that lone cell, The mighty and the strong, And said to him: "All shall be well, And I'll avenge thy wrong." And lo! the prison bars are burst, The captive now is free; In God he put his only trust, The God of liberty. He saw, he felt his brother's woe, His brother bound in chains, He acted for that brother, too, And suffer'd martyr's pains. O, noble, heav'n-born melting love, That thus could sacrifice That noble heart, thus cause it weep, Thus sever earthly ties. 116 Would that its fires might kindle ours, And fan a heavenly flame, Till all our higher, nobler pow'rs Were glowing with the same. The martyr's gone in manhood's prime, His work on earth is done; He's gone to dwell in Freedom's clime, His crown of glory won. embL achis fall ^ fv\i~<~~ * In every clime her starry flag's unfurled, Yet this foul stain she wears.? Three million servile slaves '/ Alas! sad spectacle^ oh, let us weep For this great wrong, that justice yet doth sleep., Where freedom's banner waves.t They will not let them go, - But still their toil, and tend'rest ties devour; Blind to their doom, to that approaching hour, Which brings their overthrow.f And yet their cry goes up,~ While every tear their greatest want makes known, And every sigh, reaches their Father's throne, To fill the vengeful cup./ Aye, every breath they draw, While bowing to the master's servile rod, Is fraught with prayer, ascending up to God To plead his righteous law..? One of the best. Composed 1852. 122 a Brighter 3>a\> is Dawning. A brighter day is dawning, And soon it will appear, When freedom's hosts will rally, Then be of good cheer. I hear the notes of warning, They echo through the land, From Maine's ice-girted harbors To Georgia's burning sand. The people are awaking From their lethargic sleep; They hear the sighing bondman, Their brothers groan and weep. For freedom hath her altars, And on them burning fires, The spirits of our fathers, Our noble, daring sires. And hands and hearts are willing To battle for the right, To break the galling fetters, And bless our land with light. Haste, haste thy glorious beaming-, My country's rising star, Millions behold thy gleaming, Come, lead the hosts to war. 123 Marshal thy army, Freedom ; The contest may be long, But right must triumph over might, And loose the palsied tongue Then on to victory, The battle has begun, 'Tis liberty or slavery, We'll fight till we have won. A mighty work's before us, A valiant work to do ; Then let us not prove traitors, But freemen bold and true. Let no one shrink from duty, But grapple with the foe; The wailings of the victims Are full of pain and woe. Ye mountain fires, grow brighter, Intenser, till the day When routed is the monster, And vanquished far away. Ah! longer, burn forever, As long as time endure,* When all the living slumber, Then burn ye bright and pure. 124 Winter is 1bere. O, bright was the spring-time, when gladness and mirth, Awoke from their slumbers to hail the green year; When beauty came forth, to mantle the earth In bloom, but 'tis past old Winter is here. Yes, all the sweet flowers, of Summer have gone. And the music we loved now no longer we hear; The minstrels of nature> Oh! they too have flown, Nor lingered to welcome old Winter, so drear. And Autumn, it came with its glittering sheen And painted the woodlands all yellow and sere ; Their beauty and glory no longer are seen, They're faded and gone, old Winter is here. The snow-mantled earth is cheerless and cold, Old Boreas is raving, the prospect, how drear! The storm-clouds are out, as often of old, And all things around us say Winter is here. He comes o'er the mountain, he comes o'er the lake, On hill tops, in valleys, his footsteps appear; The poor and the needy a wailing will make, For Winter, stern Winter, old Winter, is here. Published, G. M. F., Jan. 23, 1851. 125 , Gbou O, thou Almighty King, Help me thy name to sing, Thy holiness to bless, For this, thy righteousness. Thou dost in Heaven proclaim, Almighty is thy name, On earth thou dost impart This feeling to the heart. Before thee princes bow And humbly pay the vow; All things do to thee bend, To thee their praises tend. Thou rulest in heaven and earth, All things thou gavest birth: Earth, air, and sea and main, Respond and shout again. A thousand orbs that shine The starry heaven's line; The moon, the queen of night, That blesses us with light. The great and brilliant sun, That bright and mighty one, The light of every world, Tliou into chaos hurled. 126 Around which all things move, Thy power and wisdom prove. Hosannahs sweet and loud, He set the rainbow in the cloud? Ibope. Of thee I. sing, how bright a thing, Clothed with thy own appareling; It chases gloom beyond the tomb, While on earth we're traveling. Oh! while our bark is tempest driv'n, It points to us the way to Heav'n, It lights the way 'mong rocks and shoals. Where billow after billow rolls. Shedding its light upon the road, Is pointing heavenward^and to God. (Bcms. Gems there are of heavenly birth, Glittering 'mong the dross of earth,- Gems of almost priceless worth, Dazzling bright, of richest hue, Beneath the vast etherial blue, - And loving hearts forever true, - Blessing the Gentile and the Jew? 127 PityrO/'tis a melting word, Then to it be thou given; And remember that it stirred Thy bosom friend in heaven. Know thou that He came down to earth, To save rebellious man ? Within the manger was His birth, Who wrought redemption's plan. O, melting pity, thou could'st move Upon the sorrows deep? Of Him whose soul was only love, And cause that soul to weep. ' Twas pity made Him feel our woes, 'Twas pity made Him love His greatest, deadliest, earthly foes! The Savior from above^.f If pity, then, could make Him feel, Who never felt in vain, Should we, poor mortals,, weak and frail, Pity refuse again ? O, pity him who pity needs, And bind his broken heart; Pity the thousand hearts that bleed, And act the Savior's part. 128 The world is full of wretchedness, Of grief and sorrow too; Let pity move for deep distress, And human pity flow. Pity the wanderer, him whose days, Are full of wretchedness; For him hope never lent her rays, Or shone on Calvary. His lot was cast, perchance, where vice Was taught him from his youth, Where Satan, clothed in dark disguise, Kept back the sacred truth. Or else in dark temptation's hour, He gave away to sin; One word might saved him from its power, And kept him pure within. We too, are poor, and weak, and And pity need from man, Let charity on us prevail , To pity all we can. \ 129 TXTle ail are jfraiL We all are frail, each, one and all, Who dwell on this terrestrial ballj Each have their faults^ their wretchedness, All stand in need of charities. thou see thy brother err, And does he do thee giant wrong? Let charity,, the conquerer, With meekness bind thee true and strong. More blessed far than to receive, Forgive,t'tis noble, good and just; Forgiving, let us learn to live, _ Bury our wrongs all in the dust.^ For we, too, blindly tread our way, And deviatingly we goj While fancy's flash and reason's ray Lend but a transient^ meteor glow. The world is wide enough,and good Then let us give our fellows due; A universal brotherhood > Will kindly help each other through. Were we not born for purposes, Exalted, holy and most high ? Then let us all our faults confess, And live as we would wish to 130 If thou hast genius, boast it not, But strive to make it brighter shine; Yet all its glories cannot blot, The weaknesses which still are thine. If thou hast goodness, keep it still, With kindness let thy heart o'erflowj Have sympathy for human ill, - Oj. drop a tear for human woe.t And hast thou greatness,, mind and heart, Both acting in their higher sphere? If thou would'st nobly act thy part, Let charity her temple rear.1 If thou art wrong, confess it now;~ If thou art wronged, O/meekly bow;* Have charity for weaknesses,, Blessing thyself, so shalt thou bless. ; 6cm, O, lovely is woman, Of true beauty possessed. It makes her an angel, Her presence ever blest. Soul is Xonsin$ for llts IRest. My soul is longing for its rest, It would no longer stay ; Then let it fly to Jesus' breast, Freed from its mortal clay. Adieu, vain world, with all thy charms, I feel thy power no more; My Savior stands with outstretched arms, On Heaven's blissful shore. Farewell, dear friends, weep not for me, We soon shall meet above, To spend a long eternity With those we dearly love. The victor comes, the victor, death, And now I welcome thee, Come, take my fainting, gasping breath, And set my spirit free. Come, angels, come, bear me away, For Nature's ties are riven ; I hear the song, the blissful song, Th' immortal song of Heaven. September, 1846. 132 Columbia. Columbia, when first thou sprung Forth into life, then round thee hung Dark threat'ning clouds and angry skies; The nations looked with anxious eyes, The storm of war went rolling by, And thou didst gain thy liberty. Then looked the nations of the earth, Much wondering at thy mighty birth, But soon thy starry flag unfurl'd, With welcome met o'er all the world, In every land, on every sea, Hail, all hail, Columbia. Brighter than morn, than flowers more fair, Of virtues many, graces rare, Blooming among the western wilds, And crown'd with laurel, deck'd with smiles, Thy snow-white mantle, purity, Youthful and fair Columbia. Yet 'neath thy snowy bosom's fold The serpent Slavery black had coiled; He saw thy youth, thy beauteous charms, And rested in thy snowy arms. 133 At first thou thought to turn him out Ere he grew up a monster stout; Year after year went rolling by, And thou extoll'd Columbia. Proud, thy free sons were blessing thee, And gloried that our land was free; Thy stars and stripes, on every breeze, Were floating on a thousand seas. But hark, that sound from Southern plains Is not of sweet, enchanting strains, Harsh and discordant, 'tis the cry Of thy dark sons for liberty; Of thy dark sons, Columbia, Whom thou hast doomed to slavery. With shame we draw the veil aside Which would thy sin and weakness hide, 'Tis here the monster we behold, Who in thy youthful bosom coiled, His poisonous fangs deep in thy breast, Columbia, unwelcome guest. And thy dark sons in bondage mourn, Whom for the monster thou has borne Bastards, not sons, their cruel fate To meet thy scorn, thy loving hate; They look for succor up to thee, Yet sigh in vain for liberty. 134 How canst thou be deceitful thus? Part of thy sons with bondage curse, The other part thy blessings share. While these defiled thy impress bear? Thy stain is deep, Columbia, f What flood can wash thy sins away? Repent, repent, ere 'tis too late, f Down on thy knees, thy sins are great; In all the bitterness of woe Let thy repentant tears o'erflow,? So may'st thou find the cleansing flood, Love all thy children and thy God. f March, 1847, E. R. Morse. Ipast. The past is gone^-gone forever,.- Never to returns-no, never, t Its years of youth, and manhood's prime^ Have floated down the stream of time,- Gone, gone forever. ? 135 Gbe Xanfc of IReet. Rejoice, there is a land of rest For those who weep and mourn, A balm for every wounded breast By sin and sorrow torn. While here on earth with them oppressed, We languish and decay ; But there forever shall be blest With life's eternal day. Though weary pilgrims here below, Our sorrows soon will end, And then to brighter worlds we'll go. While angel bands attend. No more the pains and ills of life Shall each be called to bear, But joy and peace shall drink up strife, And reign eternal there, t 136 Centennial 1b\>mn. My country, to glory,and grandeur arise; In song and in story^a world with thee vies; The hearts of the bravest^in homes of the free, The hands of the truestydo homage to thee. ? CHORUS. O, green be forever.? The hallowed sod u ' Where feet of the pilgrims 5 And martyrs have trod, f Sisterhood of States,,, Phalanx mighty and grandj Glory now awaits ; Lead in Freedom's van. f O, prophets and sagesj, O, heroes who bled, Far back in the ages j Ye labored and led. . O, yet are ye living, Aye, living alway, Down the dim centuries,? Yet lighting the way. ^ 137 CHORUS. Of green be forever.? The hallowed socl? Where feet of the pilgrims. And martyrs have trod.? O, our century past, Saluting the new, We hail thee in triumphs - In passing review, f Our flag, Of dear emblem, _ No more o'er the slave, Is floating in triumph, O'er land of the brave. ? CHORUS. Of green be forever > The hallowed sod., Where feet of the pilgrims^, And martyrs have trod.? Blest star,that prophetic; On Bethlehem shone > With radiant beauty^ A glory thine own. f Behold a bright beacon. The fairest and best, The light of the nations, Bright< : star of the West.? 138 Far from Europea > Her children came forth J To find theej blest Freedom, Thou fairest of earth. O, here in the wildwood, The wilderness shaded Their pray'r^and their blessing, On thy altar was laid. ^ Auspicious event,? - Centennial year^. Our Washington's spirit, Is hovering near, f O, Chieftain Patria, The bells sweetly chime, ' Mid booming of cannon, In grandeur sublime. \ Unrivaled in greatness, Unsullied in fame, Oj> patriot hero y - Immortal thy name. ; CHORUS. O, green be forever^ The hallowed sod,; Where feet of the pilgrims, And martyrs have trod, f '39 From ocean to ocean, From mountain to sea, A loyal devotion, Our country to thee. V O, Savior, Redeemer, From shore unto shore, May Peace, the white angel, Dwell now, evermore, f CHORUS. O, green be forever^ The hallowed sod / Where feet of the pilgrims , And martyrs have trod, f The grandest effort of my life: the greatest achievement. E. R. MORSE. ZEbe present. The present isjpresent ever/- Always to-day-4>-*rriorrow never; Improve the moments as they fly, Before to-morrow thou may'st die,-" And thy probation cease forever..* A gem. 2>eat>. How silently they sleep Beneath the coffin lid, Within their narrow houses, deep The dead ! the dead ! the deadj O, calm and undisturbed Their long and last repose ; By a cold world how soon forgot, How soon by mortal foes! On hill and plain they lie, In valleys sweet and low, They heed no more the wind's low sigh, Nor Winter's drifting snow.? The husband and the wife, The father and the son, The daughter, and the blushing bride Beside her cherish'd one. And little babes at rest, Sleep by their mother's side; And near, a shaft in Earth's cold breast Tells when a stranger died. ? The toils of life are past, Their pilgrimage is o'er; The storm that rides upon the blast Shall waken them no more.- Published in the Green Mountain Freeman, March 2J, 1851. 141 IRolle c Yes, Time rolls on, nor will , he/ stay. ^^t-^,' 1 -. ' } ' Nor tarry with us here; Like all things else which pass away, So will this fleeting year.*" Like all things else which mortals claim y Upon this little earth; It soon to them will be the same As 'twas before their birth, f Its home is vast eternityy From which it comes and goesy While each revolving century, Back to its center flows. ? Each moment as it swiftly flies, Gives Hfe a fleeting breathj when God speaks, away it dies, Dissolved ]}y icy death. ' 142 'clock is Saving. Ten o'clock is saying", Morning well now is past; Accent strongly laying On number ten at last. Sounds I hear are pealing, Those sounds, I know them well, Gently o'er me stealing From that old town bell. Moments swiftly flying, Come quick, stay short, and go; Quickly they are dying, Do we their value know? E'en while I now am writing, The moments some past ten, Sounds my soul delighting, Which sweetly echoed then, Soon will give me warning Another hour has flown, Tell the hour of morning, Eleven now its own. Hark! e'en now 'tis ringing, The old clock's well-known sound; Time is swiftly winging, Upon its voyage bound. tbe printer. Pay the printer, pay him well, Let him have no chance to dun; How his heart with joy would swell, His many ink marks, who can tell? Pay him ere his work's begun. Take a paper, read the news, Pay for't like an honest man ; You can do it, don't refuse, It may drive away the blues For a printer sometimes can. Press and paper, type and ink, Labor, labor night and day; Hands to work and minds to think. These are needful, shall he sink Just because he needs his pay? Would you have him do for naught, Striving with his utmost care, Bringing sparkling gems of thought, As he does, and as he ought, Into his casket, rich and rare? Farmer^ follow up the plow,? Mechanic, raise thy toil-worn hand,. Labor on with reeking brow, All ye toiling millions, too, And .pay the printetfof the land. ; Published in the Green Mountain Freeman, January 23, 1851. 144 Hcroetic. I.ATKA ANN THOMAS. Look on ocean, mighty sweeping, A grandeur's in her rolling waves; Underneath are millions sleeping, Reposing in their watery graves. Afar in Heaven, brightly shining, A thousand stars their vigil keep; 'Neath their mantle sweetly shining, Night's nature softly lulls to sleep. The things of earth, how beautiful, How grand, how awful and sublime O, be you ever dutiful, M thus a laurel'd wreath entwine, And as your names together span, So here 'tis Thomas, Laura Ann. Cousin living in Boston. March, 1842. E. R. MORSK. Another year has passed away Since last we saw Thanksgiving Day, Another year of time has fled And numbered many with the dead. And yet we live and onward move, The object of our Maker's love. And truly thankful let us be That He is ours from infancy, And watches e'en the cradle breath, And guards us from the shafts of death, And all along through blooming youth Points out the way of sacred truth. Through middle-age lends life and strength, And when to hoary age at length We come from youth and healthful bloom, He smooths our pathway to the tomb. Another year of blessings gone, Another year of mercies flown, And have we felt those mercies ours, Those blessings sweet'ning all the hours? Or must we sad reflections cast As long as memory shall last? 146 Our hearts should fill with gratitude, And nothing else this day intrude; Should overflow with heart-felt praise To God, the Maker of our days. We should remember that His love Doth her white pinions o'er us move. And while His blessings on us pour, Gladly would do for us still more. Another year has passed away Since last we saw Thanksgiving Day, Another year of time has fled And numbered many with the dead. Our friends have gone and left us here To shed for them the mournful tear; Perchance in childhood they have gone, And in the morn at early dawn Have left us to bewail and mourn That from our bosom they are torn; Or else, in vigorous, youthful bloom, We laid them in the silent tomb, And wept that beauty should decay And pass so soon with life away; Or else, perchance, our bosom torn Bleeds for a bosom friend we mourn. 147 While all the grief sorrow can know Is gathered in our bitterest woe, Our brother, sister, parents dear, Perchance have caused the sorrowing tear To sadly fall, to slumber not, Nor sleep until they are forgot; If they have not, they may before Another year has closed the door Which keeps us from the next, and lay Them down to moulder, to decay; Or we may go and leave them thus, To grieve and weep and mourn for us. Then let us all do as we should, And strive to do each other good; Begin at home the work to do, And let it reach our neio-hbors, too. o Let it go forth to all abroad, And thus obey and honor God; Then short our life, or short our stay, Shall thankful be when we can say: Our work is done, our work below, To our reward we now will go ; Thus happy ever shall we be, Possessing it eternally. December, 1844. 148 'Tis noon, rays of the mid-day sun Are blessing us with light, Has half his well-known circuit run While in his swift-wing'd flight. The northern winds blow shrill and strong And shake the forest round, As through the sky it sweeps along With roaring, dismal sound. It blows upon the forest trees And bears their leaves away ; Ah! yes. the chilly northern breeze Devotes them to decay. I look and see the waving trees That clothe the woodland glen, Who can but see, that looking sees, That Autumn there hath been? How beautiful to look upon This grand and varied scene, Its Summer robe is partly gone, Its robe of Summer green. 'Tis work of Nature, not of art, 'Tis more than man can do; Of Nature's work it forms a part, And much imposing, too. Sea of Xifc. Life is a rough, tempestuous sea, Whose waters never rest; Whose wild waves beat tumultuously Against each mortal breast; Billow on raging billow piled^ Rushes to meet the tempest wild.f We're tossed upon the treach'rous deep, Where dangers thickly lie, Where rocks and shoals may cause to weep Ere we have passed them by; Though prospects fair may greet our eyes, Before the angry tempest rise. How frail each weather beaten bark, Laden with precious store ! The storm is loudrthe night is dark." Far, far away from shore; But oh, a beacon light I see, It is for all for you, for me. . It is a glorious beacon light, To light us through the gloom; Oh, it will guide us through the night, To our eternal home. $ Look on that glorious light afnry- 'Tis Bethlehem's unrivaled Star.. Composed in 1846. K. K. MOKM . 150 IRcvcrlc. The Moon is rising in. the east,, The Oueen of Night she comes^ Gay-decked as for a royal feasty In robes of light she comes, f The glow of health is on her cheek) And smiles upon her brow; Say, Moon, what would'st, if thou could'st speak, What would'st thou tell me now? ^To break the slumber from my soul" From darkness call up light, And cause the waves of sorrow roll* Away to deepest night. : O, could'st thou point me to the shore, Where sin and sorrow ceases Where pain and anguish are no morer" Where all is joy and peace.? Then would my soul within me bound ' wait the coming day; , _c~ *- C-A- sed from ' could catch To bliss would soar away.f Released from ' could catch the sound Sublimely swell love's wond'rous theme, r, v : --'."Vide the field expand ; 'Tis here only a faint star-gleam^ A ray upon the sand, f Revised August, 1894. Welcome to 3ennie Hint). Welcome/ O, welcome, kind welcome to thee/ To the home of the brave, and the land of the free.? tot*. C&, Welcome! the cannon sends forth its boom , V As the keel of the vessel glides o'er the white foam. All honor and glory, O mother, to thee > For bearing this flower far over the sea.? Welcome, K O, welcome^ the bells sweetly chime; In harmony mingle, in grandeur sublime The people are waitingy-sweet ang-el of song ? - O hasten to meet them^ the temples they throng!' Welcome," warm welcome, thrice welcome to thee, OrNightingale sweet, to the land of the free. J Revised Aug. 14, 1894. E. R. MORSE. 152 1850. jfuturc. The future's not-yet ever near us, With unseen things, to grieve or cheer us; We know not whether with the morrow, Shall come to us, or joy, or sorrow; But O/'tis safe for mortal dust; In God alone to put its trust. The past, the present, and the future dwell With Him who doeth all things well.. There Love her golden harp shall take, And chant immortal lays; Shall bid each joyful tongue awake, To join the general praise. Extract. 'S3 acrostic. SAKAH C. 1IAYI.NA. Sarah is the name I speak, And acrostic here I seek. Roses bright, unfold a bloom, And they shed a sweet perfume; Half unseen, their beauty fades. Calm, serene, while evening shades Hold their sway o'er parting day, And the red light fades away. Versed in sevens, here I rhyme, End'll make of homely chime. No more to write, I will rejoice And sign my name, E. R. Morse. Second Cousin. '51 Campaign Rally* rally, freemen, rally, From the prairie, broad and free; From the mountain, hill and valley* Let it echo to the sea; f For Grant and Wilson,, tried and true,, Let the nation's verdict be. Glory ; glory* hallelujah! Our chief is marching on.: Spunky Vermont has been beating* Our friend Brown_,and Horace G. The Buckeye State, and land of Penn, C ks - **- (I- * t~ C ^~ r ~ Have echoed from each hill and glen, And send us loyal greeting; ; ' Neath our flag, red, white and blue, For Grant and Wilson,, tried and true, Let the nation's verdict be, Glory, glory, hallelujah, Grant is marching on. I Published in Rock ford Gaxette. l$5 Hftcr tbe Storm. The scene from strife is changed^ To one sublimely grand/ Its colors beautiful to see^ The rainbow_r-mercy planned.! Its varied hues are seen_, All blushing in the east; The sunbeams glow upon the green,- A rich and royal feast. $ All nature sweetly sings, And joyful is the song, That through the air on happy wings, The chorus bears along. ? January, 1843. Xlfc is a Struck. Life is a struggle, Oh, all the way through ; Always 'tis old, And always 'tis new. From childhood and youth, From cradle to grave, A battle for right, Triumph for the brave. acrostic, A XX M. I.I TTl.F.VIKLD. A ransom'd host mightily swelling Nature's vast theme surrounds the throne, Numerous millions, wondrous telling, Mingle with melodious tones. Lo, what music sweetly pealing, In gorgeous grandeur rolls along; There sweeps Nature, godlike kneeling, The harp's angelic, heavenly song; Lamps of Heaven brightly burning, Eternal in their courses go, Fling their light, their bright eyes turning In grandeur, all with beauteous glow. Enclosed is there what I began ; Love true beauty, learn your duty, Do it, and all is well with Ann. Second Cousin. Milford, Mass., 1842. 157 Silent Olant). Where is the silent land? I ask, but none reply. O, where that far-off strand^ Where mortals no more sigh? Over the river wide, Our friends have crossed before. Have reached the other side. Silent forever more. .* And we soon, too, must pass The flood, with muffled oar. Where none return, alas, From that far distant shore. ? Where is the silent land, Where mortal never weeps? No mind can understand ; Silence her vigil keeps. f Where is the silent land ? In ocean's barren isles? Where reigneth silencej-and, And nature never smiles? Where is the silent land ? In finite/ spaceless air ? No sound by breezes fanned, Us, spirit tidings bear. ? 158 M:iy, 1884. Where is the silent land ? In the etherial blue, Where reigneth silencer-grand^ Beyond our mortal view. ? Hcroatic. IKIUSHA nn.i. THOMAS. Jehovah reigns, the King above ; Eternal reigns the God of Love - Rules the nations by his power, Unfolds His beauty in the Hower ; Supports us with His mighty hand; H heals our sorrows, saves our land. A world most wonderous He has made Has all in order set arrayed; In earth, in sea, in spaceless air, Life, light eternal, reigneth there. Let wonder gaze, our bosom swells, The heart's its home, nature dwells Here ; here dear cousin may you know Of virtue's prize, its worth below. May you through life blest peace enjoy And happy be without alloy. So here to you a kind adieu. Second Cousin. October, 1844. Summer. The Summer's last day has come; Time rolling has brought it here; Then Autumn, with its busy hum, Brings "the yellow leaf and sere." The days of her youth have fled, Her mid-day hours have flown; She sinks 'mid her kindred dead, Her beauty and glory have gone. Exulting, she spreads her wings Over sea and earth and air; Now Death her shroud o'er her flings, O'er Summer, so smiling and fair. And who her mourners shall be,? Who lament the gathering pall, Who pay the tribute that's due, The tribute that's due from all ? No longer we call her our own, She was, no more is ours, Her home's the eternal throne, , And hers th' eternal pow'rs. Departing, her last words are spoken, - Have echoed within our ear,- A sure and solemn token, Succeeds the autumnal year, i August 31, 1842. 160 Gbe Hsbtabula Iborror. Oh, toll the bell! Oh, toll the bell! In saddest tones of woe; Ring out their knell ! Ring out their knell ! Ye seething flames below; And hissing steam, and blinding smoke, More cruel than the sabre stroke ; No hand can stay the foe. Oh, down to death ! Oh, down to death ! In awful crash they went; All in one breath. All in one breath, In horrid burial blent, No note of warning sent. Oh, God! Our God! We cannot see - Tt is thy own dark mystery - Our voice is mute, our eye is dim, In vain for succor, look to Him. The good and bad, coward and brave Here share alike a common grave ; Our heart is faint. Upon the air Floats out that wail of deep despair; In vain their hope, in vain their plea Appeals, Oh, God! Oh, God! to Thee, That awful wail of agony. Styled the " Ashtahula Horror" in the newspapers at the time of the acci dent on the railroad near Ashtahula, Ohio, in which seventy-five persons lost their lives from being crushed or mangled, drowned, scalded or burned to death in this great catastrophe. 161 flDelancbolp Smile. How eloquently speaks^ The melancholy smile/ It tells the heart's deep loneliness- One gleam of joy the while. Behold the trembling tear* Moist'ning the mourner's eye ; How hard the struggling spirit strives, To choke the rising sigh.f The swelling bosom heaves., With inward grief opprest/ The cold world feels no sympathy, For that sad, aching breast, t And yet with radiance oft, The features mutely glow; It is the melancholy smile , Softening the spirit's woe.t But oh^how many there are, The sorrowing ones of earth, Who feel a sadness all its own* E'en from the hour of birth.? Their grieving spirits bow, Their tears bedew the sodj Their sadly melancholy smile., Is known alone to God. ? Published in Green Mountain Freeman, 1850. E. R. MORSE. 162 Lo! from the regions of the north Old Winter swiftly glides.; He sends his furious whirlwinds forth, While on the storm he rides. He comes o'er mountain, dale and hill, His voice is stern and loudy And to his most despotic will All things have owned and bowed. He sealeth up the silver lakes., The rivers bind in chains, Till nature from her sleep awakes? And smiles o'er her domains. Yon forest^ sad, and lone, behold > Where now his footsteps tread; It seems like one that has grown old, Its youth and beauty fled. All nature's sad for in the tomb, Her sweetest Mowers rest; Her minstrels, too, are hushed in gloom By their unwelcome guest. Lo! youthful Spring will break his reign, And he will hence depart _ With nature then will smile again Each joyful human heart. 1850. E. R. MORSE. 163 Gbe Cuckoo. The month of June has come, The cuckoo's voice is heard, Its notes are all gladsome, The notes of this sweet bird. To some, perchance, not sweet. Yet truly sweet to me, Though plaintively it greet With mournful melody. I love to hear its tone, Its music in the wood ; Congenial with my own, Or, in its neighborhood. With us, short is its stay, The music of its song Seems centered in one lay, Nor is that very long. (), short does it tarry here A pilgrim in the land, A pilgrim once a year, To join the pilgrim band. It chanteth others' woes And bears them to the throne; Its song poetic glows, With beauties all its own, 164 Fair one, I wish my lot Were but to roam with thee. To visit every spot, And pour sweet minstrelsy. Then nature's solitude, At dawn of rising day, With nothing to intrude. Would echo with the lay. All nature's plaintive voice Seems blended in thine own, And yet, it seems thy choice Thus mournful to bemoan. To some, perchance, not sweet, Yet dearly sweet to me, Though plaintively thou greet With mournful melody. June, 1844- 165 She finmifcen's prater. At eve I heard the voice of pray'r In accents soft and lowly; Gently it rose upon the air, Like incense sweet and holy. ' Twas in the silent, peaceful grove, Where autumn winds were sighing, Where budding leaves had whispered love, But now were dead or dying. Her outstretched hands were raised on high, With her Redeemer pleading; The teardrop glist'ning in her eye, She, poor and frail and needing. There in the stillness of that hour White angels hover' d o'er her, And while she sought protecting pow'r, Sweet consolation bore her. She pray'd but not for length of days, Nor yet for earthly treasure; She wished to walk in wisdom's ways, For there were life and pleasure. This was the burden of her pray'r, In accents soft and lowly: Lord, keep me from the tempter's snare, My thoughts make pure and holy. 166 O. guide me in the blessed way, Thou great Almighty Giver. Be Thou my strength from day to day, My hope and joy forever. Published in the Green Mountain Freeman, 1846.- -F. R. MOKSI . acrostic. MAKV JAM: THOMAS. May you, fair coz, gentle and kind, And happy now, forever be. Regarding virtue, you will find Your path'll be bright o'er life's dark sea. Jane is a pretty name, be sure, And soft and mild is her dark eye ; Nature stands deck'd, lovely and pure, Embosom'd there is her deep sigh. The names of those we lov'd, how dear, How sweet, how soft their whispers seem. O, may mingle each our tear, Mary, or do I idly dream. Acrostic to his cousin given, Say, shall we meet above, in heaven ? Boston, Mass., March, 1842. .67 TCflelcome to Summer. Welcome, Summer, welcome here, Fairest season of the year; Welcome, to the forest bow'rs, Welcome, with thy songs and How'rs. Welcome, said departing- Spring, Welcome, breathes each living thing; Welcome., smiles all Nature free, Welcome, Summer, dear to me. Welcome; from thy Southern clime, Welcome, smiling Summer-time; Welcome^ with thy genial skies, Welcome., with thy love-lit eyes. Welcome^with thy bree/y mirth, Walking, o'er the teeming earth; Welcome, with thy angel voice, Welcome, season of my choice. Thou dost come in bright array. All things are bending to thy sway ; Roses shed their fragrance round ; With bright garlands thou art crowned. Thou art on a thousand hills > By the merry sparkling rills ; And the gushing fountains free, While they welcome give to thee. 168 And upon the mountain side; By the rivers in their pride; In the valleys, bright and green, All around us thou art seen. Beautiful thy garments are, Smiling Summer, bright and fair ; Verdure springs from last year's tomb, And the earth is full of bloom. Singing bird,ancl busy bee, Welcome, welcome give to thee, Welcome from the dewy sod, Rises, Summer, up to God. Passing with thy bright array, Fading, fleeting 7 is thy stay; Farewell/ Summer, dear to me;- Last farewell, farewell to thee.i Published in Vermont Christian Messenger, July 2, 1854. 169 (Bo Meet Go thousand find a Western home, Go turn the virgin sod; Where now the deer and red man roam, For centuries have trod. - Go thou,into the forest wild. And let the sunlight in^ Where science fair has never smiled, A Where art has never been. . Go thousand hew the giant oak, And lay the forest low. Where ne'er before the echoes woke;, From woodman's ringing blow.. Go plant the tree of liberty^ Towards the setting sun; Hope's guiding star,and victory;* Shall be thy triumphs won. ^ Original composed March, 1854. Revised July 31, 1894. K. R. MORSK. 170 Ibow Ibappp is tbc How happy is the heavenly throng; Of whom I'm speaking in my song, Happy in God's eternal love, That ransom'dj blood-bought throng above Their God^ their Maker and their King^ His love extolj His praises sing, Extol His powei} and sing His praise; So glorious in all His ways. Hark ! what pealing anthems swell^ The theme of love on which they dwell; There He sits on sapphire throne, While all around His glory own, Through finite depths of spaceless air, He reigns the King eternal there. - Gben IKHben Golfcness Cloos Gbte Then when coldness clogs this clay, And the tired spirit flies away, When life's current chilly stands, And when nerveless are these hands: When this aching* anguish'd heart? Feels no more the pained dart, Then my soul, from sorrow free, Shall blest and happy ever be,, Then shall it soar to ItfijgJ realms above, Where all is peace, and joy and love, Join the ransom'd, blood-bought throng,, Chant above the rapturous song. Swell on high the wondrous theme, - And tell how Jesus did redeem;- There, forever, sing and praise 5 Dying love,, redeeming grace. February, 1843. 172 Gurn INow to (Sofc. Turn now to GooV ye young and fair. Spend in his service all your days; Live lives of humble, grateful pray'r, And bless your God with heart-felt praise. Though now in health and beauty's bloom, Though now beams bright hope's cheering star, Yet there awaits a gaping tomb, And sure, beyond, God's righteous bar.! You know not but to-morrow's sun, May soon, forever be your lastj Your work, perchance, is nearly done, And soon your lot eternal cast. * Delay not then till future years Shall bring their joys, bestow their gifts, For you may reap in bitter tears, When Time the veil of mystery lifts. f Ten thousand snares are in your path, And Satan archly tempts to sinj O/then beware to shun God's wrath Beware, let not the tempter in. !f Give now to Christ thy youthful heart, There let the blessed Savior reignj So shall you, guided by his charts The port of endless pleasure gain./ 173 acrostic. WILLIAM CULLEN WARNER. Weep ! oh, ye minstrels, pour your lays Into the ear, the heart of man. Lo! life was sweet to him whose days^ Like sands, too soon, their courses ran. Indulgent sympathy, let fall A teary-a tear of sorrow on his pall.f Man lives, but who can tell his end? Cold is his clay, his voice is still; Untimely seems his fatal end; t Light ; hope and joy, no more shall fill Life with their beams^or glory lend; Enshrouded dee/* in death's dark gloom, No more of earth, but of the tomb, t Well may we mourn the loss of friends, A thousand mourn, oh, man, for thee; Remembered long, thy virtues lend New, nobler charms, since thou art free; Eternity is now thy home; f Redeemed,, thy soul no more shall roam. I William Cullen Warner, a physician, .of Bristol, Vt., took strychnine by mistake for morphine for some ailment, thus dying by his own hand. 174 Hn tbe Burial Ground I come this calm and lovely day, And to my kindred tribute pay; I come once more, O, friends so dear, And shed o'er you the mournful tear. I come again with weary feet, In this sad, lone, and calm retreat; I walk with silent, solemn tread Among- my lov'd, and sleeping dead. The day is still, serenely bright, As silent as the silent night ; A quiet reigns, supremely felt, Within this seeming firmament. No plaint of bird or humming bee, Except it comes from some lone tree; Or else all sounds the fainter grow In the autumnal fading glow. The faint, sweet chipper of the bird, And squirrel's chatter, low is heard In the old forest's cooling shade, In all its glory now arrayed. 'Mong balmy pines, in plaintive mood, I lay me down in solitude Among the spruces, bright and green, And maples smiling o'er the scene. Yet not a leaf or bud is stirr'd By welcome breeze or wing of bird, Among- the flowers with fragrance sweet, Where tread my weary, wand'ring feet. What scenes again before me rise! I look and gaze with eager eyes, I read upon the lettered stone The time a life on earth begun. The time of death, number of years They struggled on 'mid smiles and tears; No more the strife on this frail shore, Life's battles past, its conflicts o'er. Departed ones, each, one and all, I list, I hear your voices call, Although the lips are mute in death, Although has fled the mortal breath, And eyes are closed to scenes of earth, Yet here I read, I see your worth. The hand, the heart, lie nerveless, still, And yet I feel their pulses thrill, And voices chanting, sacred, sweet, Come crowding on this calm retreat. O, father, mother, here I come, Once more I see you in your home. Once more beneath paternal roof, Once more I hear the kind reproof; 176 Once more the smile, the stern command To guide me to the heavenly land. And now my brother, sister, dear, Close by your side are sleeping here. A fond remembrance comes to view, Takes in the old, new things review: The kind intent, the thought, the deed, The mind, the heart, could justice plead. O, while I view the shaft arise, Up pointing heavenward to the skies, A word, a line, reveals anew, Dear ones, the lost, the tried, the true, The sad farewell, the smile, the tear, O, how they cluster, linger here. The marble, cold and pure and white, Points upward, through the gloom of night, To a fair world beyond the skies, Unknown, unseen by mortal eyes; Sweet voices call us, come away, Come, pilgrims, to the realms of day. 177 H Ibpmn of praise. Again I view the morn, The night has passed away, And now with rosy light new-born Beams forth the opening day. Father, to Thee I raise My voice in humble prayer; O, teach my heart that I may praise The God of earth and air. I thank Thee that my sleep Prov'd not the sleep of death, But that Thy power does safely keep And gives me mortal breath. While some who laid them down, Their weary limbs to rest. May wake to see their Mafite^'s frown, Or dwell among the blest. Lord, may I spend this day In reverential tear; O, guide me in the blessed way, And be Thou ever near. O, fit me and prepare For all Thy righteous will ; That I at last a crown may wear, And dwell on Zion's Hill. 178 acrostic. OSCAR E. MORSE. Onward, still onward, genius marks its way, Science and steam^their powers great display, Connecting links^between effect and cause,. And all in unison with Nature's laws? Rotating pow'r the greatest burden draws. Earnest in thought^ earnest in deed and name.? Mighty achievements crown the truly brave O] see majestic cleave the briny wave. Right royally the mine shall yield its gold. Steam pow'r its hidden treasures shall unfold. Excelsior; the verdict of the world.? June 27, 1894. 179 Spring again. The winter storms are past, And now the chilly blast Is felt no more; The spring has come again, The snows upon the plain In torrents pour. The genial sun comes down On icy hills that crown The vales below ; And there his rays are felt, Glaciers now slowly melt, To ocean go. The earth comes forth from death, For, feeling balmy breath Of spring, she wakes ; She ope's her wondering eyes, And hails the genial skies, And music makes. Come down, ye hosts above She says in tones of love, And let us sing; A time of jubilee, Proclaim it joyfully To our high King. 180 1845. And thou, bright morning ray, Join in the pleasing lay And swell the song; While feathered tribes around Prolong the welcome sound, Which floats along. A time of jubilee, Then sound it joyfully In tones of love; While earth, and sea, and air, Breath forth to Him their pray'r, Our God above. What think you for flowers, our little May queen,, Brought home from her rambles, all sweet and serene ? She brought in her bouquet, and prattled her story, Pretty flowers, pretty flowers, 'twas all I could find; I looked all around,and could see no other kind, Alas! they were relics of last Summer's glory.? 181 Gbougbts. O, why should I sink with dejection and gloom, And why to these fellings of sorrow give way? O, why should I wish that I were in the tomb, And this body to dust were mouldering away? O, why thus with coldness life's scenes should I view, And turn away from them my pain'd, weary eyes? O, why should I languish before they are through, The days of my sorrow, whose anguish ne'er dies? O, God, give rne grace, and pow'r to sustain This feeble, this drooping, this body of mine; O, grant me salvation while here I remain, While a pilgrim on earth, a sojourner, I stay. Lengthen not out my days of sorrow and grief. Unless for Thy glory my life to prolong. But whether they're many, or whether they're brief, O, change my dull story to rapturous song. From Satan deliver, from sin, guilt and shame, This burden of sorrow away from me roll; Now give me the courage, the blessing to claim, Which speaketh my pardon and maketh me whole. y O, grant me Thy grace, ^s of lEartb. The joys of earth, what are they But fading, fleeting pleasures? From our grasp they steal away, These dying, earthly treasures. O, if to-day they give us Of pleasure, high emotions, 'Tis but that soon they'll leave us, And burst our bubble notions. If these pleasures we enjoy For awhile without sorrow, Yet will something us annoy, And make us trouble borrow. O, form they a downy pillow For us our weary head to lay, While we upon the billow Of time so swiftly pass away? Know ye that they, like flowers, Bloom and blossom for awhile, Like the winds of adverse hours, Flood with tears the playful smile. When we are fann'd by breezes Of fortune and of favor, And all around us pleases, 'Tis then we easy labor. 185 But smiles and tears together, Laugh and weep and do appear, While thus life's storms we weather; There's naught abiding here. Naught abiding here of earth, Its joys are fleeting pleasures; But there are some of nobler birth, Enduring, lasting treasures. December, 1842. Hcrostic BEAUTY. Bright garlands of flowers, O Beauty, are thine ; Eyes glowing with light, stars brightly that shine, And dewdrops that sparkle^ and colors that glow. Unrival for splendor the bright-hued rainbow; Ten thousand the iorms,in which thou dost appear,- Youth, Beauty and Love thy bright images wear. 1 86 , Xet flDe IRest. O, let me rest my weary feet, Bruised and torn with thorns I meet ; The way is rough, narrow or wide; O, let me rest, some fount beside- O, let me rest these tired hands, Toil-worn oppress'd with life's demands; Painful and sore from day to day, O, while a pilgrim here I stay.* O, let me rest my burdened heart, So tired and weary of its part; Yet beating, beating ever on, Until the fainting breath is gonef O, let me rest these longing eyesy- Looking for heaven beneath the skies; So quick another's faults to see, While yet my own may greater be.t O, let me rest my aching head, When time^and sense, and life are fle4 Upon my Savior's loving breast> O, let me rest, there let me rest.? August ii, 1894. E.R.MORSE. 187