LIBRARY 
 
 UNrVKRStTY Of 
 CAUFORNIA 
 
 SAN Diceo
 
 ^^ 
 
 PS 

 
 POEMS. 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 HISTORIC — LYRIC — JUVENILE. 
 
 EPIC. 
 
 THE MISSION BRIDE — SCENES LAID IN SCOTLAND, NEW ENGLAND, 
 AND THE LPPER MISSISSIPPI. 
 
 D RAM ATI C. 
 
 (illBLICAL.) 
 HISTORY OF JOSEPH ILLUSTRATED: THREE ACTS, NINE SCENES. 
 
 BY . 
 
 RICHAKI) C. STONE, 
 
 Author "Oenettlo^y uml BioRruihy of itn- fJloiH- Family, K.I ," "Mfe- 
 
 lacideuU— lloiiic, Scho<jl uml Cbarcli, " "Scriliblings on a 
 
 Journey , , ' ' • Visit to Mainraotli Cuve . ' ' 
 
 S.'M.N I I.OL'IS: 
 
 BOUTUWESTERN HOOK A.NIJ I'LULISHINU COMTANY, 
 
 417 NORTH SIXTH STREKT. 
 
 1876.
 
 Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1876, by 
 
 RICHARD CFXIL SI ONE, 
 In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 
 
 9 
 
 Historical Drama, Jf5 pages, 
 sent to order, post-paid, at 15 
 cents, cost price. Address, 
 
 R. C. STOjYE, 
 ///'-i/ j) /Bunker Hill, Ills. 
 
 ^j /Bun 

 
 CJ O N T E N T S . 
 
 EXPLICATION. — NUMBERS REFER TO PAGES. 
 
 CREATION— MISSISSIPPI VALE. 
 
 God's First Creation Before Light — Chaotic Matter — Entire 
 Silence, i. Light — Life — Atomic Affinities — Action — Results, 
 Rocks, Plants, Vegetable Life, 2. Clouds — Shades — Sun's Rays 
 Shine Through — Measure of Time — Animal Life, 3. Creation Pro- 
 gressive — Chaos — Darkness — Day — Life Individual — Testimony of 
 Rocks, 4. Last Created Age — Manhood — Beauty — Innocence, 5. 
 Man Sins — Mercy Pleads — Compassion Hears — Heaven is Revealed, 
 6. Progress — Mississippi Vale, 7, 8. Fountains of the River, 8, 9. 
 Fall of the Eastern World Rise of the Western, 9-12. Discoverers 
 — Columbus — De Leon — De Soto, 13-16. Discovery of the Missis- 
 sippi— De Soto's Death, 16-21. 
 
 HISTORY OF JOSEPH— HISTORICAL DRAMA. 
 
 Introductiun — Persons Represented — Prologue, 22-24. ^CT I, 
 Scene i — Canaan — Controversial Colloquy Between the Wives, 25. 
 Scene 2 — Canaan — Conspiracy of Brethren — Jacob and Joseph 
 Enter — Joseph Relates his Dream, 29-31. Scene 3 — C.inaan — 
 Reuben's Entreaty- Gad's Malice and Infidelity — Other Brethren 
 Present — Joseph Enters — Attempted Murder — He is Finally Solil, 
 32-39. Scene 4 — Canaan — Discussion Among the Women — Bloody 
 Coat — Jacob Almost Faints — Grand Children Alarmed Come in — 
 They Holil a Converse Alone, 38-46. 
 
 Act n — ^Prologue, 47. Scene I — Egy|)l — t.'onvcrsation on Dif- 
 ferent .Modes of Worship by Joseph and .Maiilens of I'^gypt, 48-53. 
 Scene! — Egypt — Joseph's Brethren Converse Among Themselves —
 
 IV 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 They Meet Joseph — He Calls Them Spies — Simeon is Imprisoned — 
 The Others go Home, 53-56. Scene 3 — Canaan — Brothers at 
 Home — Plea of Reuben and Judah to the Father for Sending Ben- 
 jamin — He Consents, 56-64. Scene 4 — Egypt — Two Egyptian 
 Maidens — Brethren in Egypt — Converse and Dine with Joseph — 
 Leave for Canaan, 60-62. Scene 5 — Egypt — Silver Cup Lost — 
 Brethren Arrested— Brought Back — Sacks Searched — Cup Found — 
 Judah's Plea — Joseph Deeply Affected — ^Egyptians go out — Joseph 
 Exclaims " I am Joseph, your Brother" — All Deeply Moved — He 
 Sends for his Father, 63-66. Valedictory, 67-68. 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 Early and Late Clouds 69 
 
 You are on Life's Way 69 
 
 Cross is the Hope of the Soul. 71 
 
 The Mississippi 71 
 
 Cornet 72 
 
 My First Pair of Boots 73 
 
 Sucker Boy 77 
 
 Dedication Hymn 78 
 
 My Cat 79 
 
 A Puzzle 80 
 
 Home of a Week 81 
 
 Acrostic to Calista Webster. ..81 
 Farewell to Nellie — True 
 
 NobiHty 82 
 
 Hymn Sung at a Picnic 83 
 
 Poem on the Death of Ostrando 
 
 Phillips 84 
 
 Original Song by a Girl of 3 yrs.85 
 
 MISSION BRIDE, WITH NOTES AND EXPLICATIONS. 
 
 Address to Housatonic, the country watered by the River of 
 that name in Western Mass. and Conn., which was named for the 
 Tribes of Indians once inhabiting that region, sometimes called 
 Stockbridge Tribes, 86. Irene's Grave A Foreshadowing — Her 
 Birth, 87. Parentage — Father, son of a Scottish Laird, but, wed- 
 ding a girl of rustic descent, was disinherited — "One Brother's 
 Heart for Robert " — His Brother, Malcolm, never cast him off— Sent 
 him letters with much fraternal love, 90. Oscar, Malcolm's Son, 
 Visits — Results — His Return Home, 93-98. Irene's Father Dies — 
 The Mother's Faith and Trust — A Letter, 101-104. Civil War in 
 Scotland — Oscar Loyal — Battle of Preston Pans — Vic. for Pretender 
 — Oscar with his Party Pursued — They Turn — Ten Rebels Fall, 
 107-HO. Loyal Scots Meet at St. Bride— Malcolm's Speech, Ii2-
 
 CONTENTS. V 
 
 113. Fergus and Oscar Take a Message to Lord Argyle — The 
 Thunder Storm — Death, 114- 11 5. No News from Scotland — Irene 
 is Pained — The Mother Very Feeble — Her Counsel to Irene — Snow- 
 fall in May — The Mother's Death, 1 17-1 19. Funeral Irene 
 Adopted by the Pastor — A Summer Scene — Alone at Glen Cottage, 
 121-125. Irene's Murmurs — Prayer — A Guest — Her Dream — A 
 Star Ascends to Heaven, 127-131. James Mortimer Proposes Mar- 
 riage — She Informs Him of Oscar — He Leaves for his Labors in 
 the West, 134-137. Helen — A Letter — Irene Faints — Malcolm's 
 Account of Oscar's Death, 138-141. A Teacher in Village School — 
 Seasons Pass On — Meets a Stranger — His Character — Pastor's Cau- 
 tion and Counsel — Her Reply, 142-152. Caution — Her Mother's 
 Words — The Visitor Again — Film Removed — Firm Decline, 153- 
 155. Another Meeting — "Sit Down Upon the Grass " — He Mis- 
 takes Her Silence — She is Firm, 156-157. Revenge - Night Fol- 
 lowing — Enters by .Stealth — Bears Her to the River — The Plunge, 
 159-161. She is Saved — By Whom? — After Years Explain, 161- 
 162. Indians Emigrate West — Mementoes — Sigh for Their Early 
 Home— Occasional Visits, 165-166. A Young Christian Brave — 
 The Condition and Wants of His Nation, 166-167. Irene's Con- 
 ference with her Pastor Irene Again Visits the Graves of her 
 Parents, 167-169. The Farewell and Departure — The Long Jour- 
 ney, 170-171. 
 
 PART II. 
 
 Far West — Irene's Visit to the Missionary — A Warrior Indian 
 makes one of the Company — His Explanation and Welcome — The 
 Indian Rises — His .Story — He Saved her from Death on the Housa- 
 tonic, and .Slew the Murderer, 174-178. Irene Called " White Dove" 
 — Confirms the Indian's Story — Indian Children, 179-1S2. War — 
 The Warning — The Cave — The Sachem's Son, Owassa, 1S3-185. 
 The Battle — Sioux and lowas — Sioux Conquered — War Dance — 
 Funeral Pile — Irene's Plea, 186-191. Death-.Song — Irene Teaches 
 the Young Her Boldness — Prayer on Woodvale Green — Large 
 Gatherings — Onlara, an Indian Prophet, Opposes — His Speech, 
 192-197. OnUra Troubled— -Must .See "The Dove," "The Pale- 
 Faccd Flower," Again — He Warns Her of Danger — He Hears the 
 "Children's Song"— Rushes Away Agitated, 198-201. Ontara
 
 VI CONTENTS. 
 
 Again Visits "The White Dove" — Tells her of a Cave where the 
 Manito Speaks to him — Asks her to Visit it with him — She P'inally 
 Consents, 202-206. The Journey — They Enter the Dread Cave, 
 207-208. The Test, 210-211. Return — The Dying Girl — Her 
 Story and Funeral, 215-21 7. Home— Ontara's Distress — Irene's 
 Prayer, 217-220. General Missionary Meeting at Woodvale — On- 
 tara's Speech — Irene Hears a Voice She Remembers! — "The Dia- 
 mond," 221-222. Irene's Marriage, 226. Life Onward — Ontara's 
 Death Scene — Prophecy, Closing with a Glimpse of our Great 
 Internecive Struggle, 229-232. Conclusion.
 
 COMMENDATIONS, 
 
 From Miss Abbie Maclean, Prin. Classical School, California' 
 
 I have read your poetic work, "The Mission Bride," all through 
 to myself, and again to my sister and family, and I like it very much. 
 Irene, fair and lovely as the spring-time of life portrayed her, grew 
 doubly dear to me when sorrow came, for it changed not one thought 
 of her sweet guileless life into bi'terness or discouragement! It 
 only wove for her patient brow a purer wreath placed there by invis- 
 ible angel hands! 1 am no critic by habii or ability, but this I 
 know, it is a sweet, touching story, always pleasantly, sometimes 
 beautifully pictured, wmning its way gently but surely to the heart. 
 
 From Dknham Arnoi.U, a. M., Pfof. of Physics, and Principal 
 of the Academic Department, Washington University: 
 
 I have spent a delightlul evening with your book of Poems. Many 
 of the shorter pieces tell, in a happy and instructive way, of the little 
 joys and sorrows of daily life and early years, which, however, so 
 largely mould our character by the way in which they are borne. 
 But the story of Irene, so clearly and beautifully told, with frequent 
 touches of poetic grace, is the golden thread in the book. The 
 heroine shows how strong a character may be formed by those who 
 are true to parental responsibility. Kvcr obeying the voice which 
 calLs to duty, she was able, by her very weakness, and the power of 
 Faith, to win to a higher life, not only the children of ilie Ke<l Man, 
 but the mighty warrior and the prophet of his race. If she fails to 
 win the reader, he must be less noble than tiic savage. 
 
 " The diamond in the darkest mine. 
 Forgets not ever it has ponver (o shine."
 
 VIU COMMENDATIONS. 
 
 From Prof. N. R. Goss, Principal of Bunker Hill Academy : 
 
 It is a collection of pleasing life sketches, skillfully arranged to 
 poetic measure ; a work remarkable for its naturalness of character, 
 as well as for its vividness of language and high moral tone. 
 
 From Rev. A. H. Smith, Illinois : 
 
 This Epic Poem is truly descriptive of God's power and wisdom, 
 in making the darkest events of life but the opening up of earth's 
 most glorious results and heaven's brightest rainbow beauties. It 
 will prove, I think, very valuable as suggestive of noble and elevated 
 thought. 
 
 From J. M. Field, Publisher, Massachusetts: 
 
 Your work is very fully in accordance with poetic rules. There is 
 less poetic license than almost any work I have ever read.
 
 CREATION: 
 
 SONG OF THE MISSISSIPPI VALE. 
 
 " They viewed the vast immeasurable abyss — 
 Darii, wasteful, wild." 
 
 " For Chaos heard his voice: Him all his train 
 Followed in bright procession to behold 
 Creation and the wonders of his might." 
 
 Paradisk Lost. 
 
 The Chaos universal — awful, still — 
 
 Lay silent 'neath Creation's darkest pall ; 
 A silence, ay, so awful, dread and chill. 
 
 That shudd'rings drear, like reptile's touch, appal, 
 Yet lack th' enlivening of their serpent hiss 
 
 To break the spell, to raise the curtains drear, 
 To waken into life the black abyss, 
 
 And with some sound Creation's audience cheer ! 
 O Silence ! Silence ! Thy quiescent hand 
 
 Has scattered fragrance on my wearied head. 
 Has hushed the din of Earth, has bade me sleep 
 
 In sweet forgetfulness on Nature's flowery bed. 
 But thou art not that silence which of yore 
 
 Crushed low the wide-spread world of atom life —
 
 2 CREATION. 
 
 Compared with that, the thunder's fearful roar, 
 
 The lightning's sheen, the elemental strife. 
 The whirlwind's grasp, the fiery tides that roll 
 
 Adown the burning mountain's rocky side, 
 And hiss and seethe and drink up pool and rill, 
 
 Darting their flaming tongues all heavenward, wide! 
 These, O dread, chaotic Silence, these 
 
 Are music's sweetest strains compared with thee. 
 Hail ! Spirit Mandate ! which could waken life. 
 
 And tune Creation into harmony ! 
 
 " Let there be Light ! " All Chaos felt the shock. 
 
 With trembling dread, ten thousand atoms wake, 
 Lift up their heads and shake each tiny lock. 
 
 Like water-sprites upon a peaceful lake; 
 A new-born love thrills every atom small ; 
 
 Affinities spring up unknown before ; 
 Love flies, obedient to Creation's call, 
 
 And heavenward wings its way its Maker to adore; 
 The vas.t, soul-lighted flood, replete with life, 
 
 Obeys the laws of wisdom uncreate ; 
 Simples and compounds onward urge their strife; 
 
 Spring into action, instinct, love, and hate. 
 And new-born forms displace the mighty voia. 
 
 Kindle the fires of sentient life among 
 A world of elements of life devoid, 
 
 And waken Nature's universal song ! 
 And now the rocks in massive forms arise, 
 
 Their ponderous feet on Earth's capacious breast, 
 Above the billows dark they raise their eyes — 
 
 Uprear their heads by Heaven's most high behest! 
 Period on Period rolls : Here Nature's God
 
 C R !•: A r 1 O N . 3 
 
 Reveals his omnipresent power and love : 
 Within the ocean's deeps — its swaying flood — 
 
 Dark forms of sentient life begin to move. 
 The elemental play of new-born life, 
 
 Evolving heat through Nature's mystic range, 
 Sends warring simples, combinations rife 
 
 With heaving fires and bellowing surges strange ! 
 Anon, above tlie waves' dark, dashing scope 
 
 Deposits rise : the solvent globe beneath, 
 Emerging into light, in buoyant hope, 
 
 Soon wears upon its head a verdant wreath ! 
 
 Father ! What changes have the Earth o'erspread ! 
 
 How wonderful and vast ! How wild and strange ! 
 Advancing Periods rose and fell instead, 
 
 All more approaching Thee in wondrous change ! 
 Now clouds and murky shades revolve and roll, 
 
 E'en through the mists Suns bright resplendent shine. 
 The globe revolves — the day and day's repose 
 
 Space off the disc — the dial-plate of time. 
 Now round the world the gentle breezes float, 
 
 The winged tribes begin to skim the skies ; 
 The huge Fle'saurian monster lifts his throat 
 
 Above the rolling waters as they rise. 
 The vapors now through heat's expanding powers 
 
 .Arise on murky wings and skyward soar ; 
 Again they hover down — descend in showers. 
 
 And on the thirsty ground their torrents pour ! 
 Springs bursting from the hills no longer sleep. 
 
 But babble forth their native joys untold, 
 Rush smiling down the venlant hill-side steep. 
 
 And mingle into one, like hearts of finest mould.
 
 4 CREATION. 
 
 Another age now rises; all before, 
 
 Successive, each in turn, was swept away ; 
 Each left its autograph in rock and shore, 
 
 In mount or vale, in darkness or in day. 
 More glorious this — approximating still. 
 
 In thought divine, more near its primal Head ! 
 The quadrupedal race now roam at will, 
 
 They crop the verdant lawn, and rest in sun or shade. 
 With awe we trace Thy footprints through the glade, 
 
 And ponder on the mystic slaughtered crpwd ; 
 The hand of an almighty Power has laid 
 
 All mundane life within its fossil shroud ! 
 There 'neath its tombstone silent ages sleep, 
 
 Ages that quietly prepared the way 
 To elevate Creation's rising sweep 
 
 From Chaos, darkness, night, to glorious day ! 
 Kind Guardian of Creation's varied race ! 
 
 Thy power hath wrought a consummation just ; 
 Most wisely given to each their time and place, 
 
 Assigned their limit ere they fell to dust ; 
 Though cloud and mystery envelope all 
 
 We know of Thee, yet rock and sand unfold 
 The story of Creation's birth — thy call 
 
 To life and being, as thy truth unrolled 
 Nature's great book of laws, and bade the spheres 
 
 Move on obedient to thy mighty plan. 
 Nor count the space of the encircling years 
 
 'Till Earth was fashioned for the home of Man ! 
 
 The last created age, with vital force, 
 
 Encircles in its arms a new-born race ; 
 Life intellectual, reasoning, finds its source.
 
 CREATION. 5 
 
 And Nature up to Nature's God can trace ! 
 The Earth, arrayed for life's embattled field, 
 
 Has rolled from off the forming hand of God 
 And started on its yearly course of speed 
 
 Measured, and traced along its circling road. 
 How grand ! how glorious this mighty sphere — 
 
 Of Chaos born! Its sire, Eternal Truth! 
 Millions of vivid lives expanding here 
 
 Rejoice in all the new born joyousness of youth ! 
 Ocean's vast tide fills up the deep abyss, 
 
 Lays a broad tract from hill to mountain vale, 
 And calls the gentle breeze anon to kiss 
 
 The snowy whiteness of the spreading sail. 
 Earth now shines forth from grove and hill and stream, 
 
 Kindled to beauty by the morning's light ; 
 Fresh flow'rets smile in Phoebus' painted beam, 
 
 The hyacinth, the rose, the lily wiiite; 
 And warbling songsters flit from bougii to bough, 
 
 Delighted with each other's plumage gay ; 
 As summer's suns engild the mountain's brow, 
 
 They sing the requiem of fieparting day. 
 The flowery plain, the stream, the verdant glade. 
 
 Replete with joyous life, now seek repose ; 
 Stars twinkle in the ether's sombre shade. 
 
 And moonlight shadows watch the evening's close. 
 How beautiful is gentle breathing Night, 
 
 When flocks and herds in glade ami glen-wood rest, 
 When human eyelifls curtain off" the light, 
 
 And infants slumber on their mother's breast ! 
 Sweet Innocence and Love looked down and smiled 
 
 As the young world its pathway onward rolled, 
 'Till Sin's dark mantle — j)urity defiled —
 
 6 CREATION. 
 
 Bequeathed its stains to ages yet untold ! 
 O must thy new-fledged offspring, Heavenly King I 
 
 Drain low the cup of thine avenging rod ? 
 Mercy, a suppliant with folded wing, 
 
 Invokes forgiveness from a loving God : 
 Meek-eyed, beside the footstool low, she prays : 
 
 " Father ! forgive thine erring new-born child, 
 Suspend the primal curse for future days. 
 
 And give, instead of death, refreshing toil ! " 
 Omnipotence m soft compassion hears. 
 
 The boon is granted, hope is freely given : 
 Nature is joyous e'en despite her tears. 
 
 And man repenting, looks again to Heaven ! 
 New scenes of active life invest the world. 
 
 Organic force and sentient power among ; 
 But most the grasp of gravitation holds. 
 
 Or hurls the mobile elements along ; 
 While light and shade, as clouds flit o'er the moon. 
 
 Blend every scene, on every sea and shore ; 
 The world-wide struggle has at length begun, 
 
 To run its race 'till time shall be no more ! 
 
 Now shift the scene and shift the song — 
 Man in his progress moves along ; 
 Genius begins to raise her head. 
 Beauty and Death each other tved, 
 And weeping Virtue soon discerns — 
 Too soon the painful lesson learns — 
 That the unchequered home of love 
 Lies in celestial worlds above ! 
 The race of man o'erspreads the plain,
 
 CREATION. 
 
 Climbs the bold steeps, sails o'er the main, 
 And doomed to live by toil the while, 
 Tills every continent ami isle. 
 
 Within a vast and beauteous vale, 
 
 Where prairie flowers their sweets exhale, 
 
 Where forests dark, with viney wreath, 
 
 Tower heavenward high — the while beneath 
 
 The Florida,* its arms extends, 
 
 And 'neath it many a grape-vine bends, 
 
 Where rocky bluffs their vigils keep. 
 
 And rivers roll their waters deep; 
 
 The forest tenants fearless roam. 
 
 And make the mountain's pass their home ; 
 
 Throughout this valley, long and wide, 
 
 One river rolls its ponderous tide. 
 
 With deeper, more resistless flow. 
 
 As tropic breezes on it blow, 
 
 As forth it hastes, in peace to rest 
 
 On Ocean us' briny breast: 
 
 Now, mark these waters as they run 
 
 Toward a seetning vertic sun, 
 
 Where Nature shows her magic powers 
 
 III rising vapors, falling showers — 
 
 Yes, reader, yes, that mighty mass. 
 
 Now, torrent-rough, now smooth as glass. 
 
 Once sparkled in the mountain sheen, 
 
 Once gemmed with dews the foliage green, 
 
 Once rippled on the hill-side wild, 
 
 Or leaped in joy a mountain child, 
 
 bashing from off the cliff's dark brow 
 
 "* Cornus Florida —Flowering Dogwcjod.
 
 8 CREATIO N. 
 
 Four thousand miles away, where now, 
 And ever, gleam the snow-clad hills 
 Which summer suns ne'er melt to rills : 
 Four thousand miles! astounding thought! 
 And this the valley Nature wrought 
 Within our brave and noble West, 
 Our country's glory, pride, and crest ! 
 
 What eye this valley's breadth can scan ! 
 Or comprehend Jehovah's plan ! 
 Two hundred rivers through it sweep 
 Their channels bright, nor ever sleep ; 
 They guard with care this fluvial plain, 
 Ten thousand streamlets in their train — 
 Streamlets, if sung in classic verse. 
 Would shame the Tiber and Simois ! 
 
 Hail Mississippi ! Father of the Floods ! 
 
 Where — where away — first flows thy liquid source ? 
 Perchance in Alleghany's piney woods, 
 
 Where dancing brooklets hurry on their course, 
 Or on the hills that, white with Arctic snows, 
 
 Send down their chary streams in many a rill; 
 From mountain crests where endless frosts repose 
 
 In hoary grandeur, bleak, and pale, and chill; 
 Or, on the eastern Rocky Mountain slope, 
 
 Whose miles by thousands span the distant earth, 
 'Tis there the naiads in thy fountams float. 
 
 And sunbeams glittering gild thy place of birth. 
 The years by thousands rolled their circuits round — 
 
 Thy beauteous vales in annual glory clad —
 
 CREATION. 9 
 
 The Winter's snowy wardroDe draped the ground, 
 
 And vernal sunbeams making Nature glad 
 Returned their yearly glow, and bade the years 
 
 Unfold their powers. The stately elk stooped down 
 In majesty, and drank the mountain's tears 
 
 That sparkling rolled from Winter's icy frown ! 
 The hart with dashing bound shook off the dew — 
 
 Brushed morning gems from leaf and floweret bright ; 
 The spring-birds gathered in the groves anew 
 
 And laved their plumage in the- genial light; 
 The roe with stealthy step concealed her fawn 
 
 The copse-wood, brake, or underwood among. 
 Lest on the undulating prairie lawn 
 
 The wolt or wild cat extirpate her young. 
 Then Summer comes in leafy garments drest, 
 
 In gentle strength she curbs her fiery train ; 
 Around her car are harvest glories prest. 
 
 She bids the Spring depart, no more to reign ; 
 With saddened mien she draws her floral cloak 
 
 Around her youthful form in glad relief, 
 But ere her last farewell tlie vision broke 
 
 Her flowing petals fled 'mid tears and grief. 
 Grand Autumn came with crimson draperies. 
 
 And yellow amethystine coronal. 
 Dispersing mellow tints o'er summer skies. 
 
 Dressing the leaves with rainbows soon to fall ! 
 The sturdy hunter trode the mountain side, 
 
 Or chased the buffalo across the plain. 
 Or traced the war path with a savage p'ide, 
 
 As wild the mustang skims along the main ! 
 But years on thousands sasv thee still the same, 
 
 The same thy Vale in all its bright array,
 
 lo CREATION. 
 
 Till orient beams across the ocean came 
 And West the Star of Empire took its way ! 
 
 All eastern enterprise, as spiders weave 
 
 Their fragile nets to see them trampled down, 
 Had failed, mglorious, honor to achieve, 
 
 And wrote its autograph far, far adown 
 The page historic — records of the Past ; 
 
 And echoes fainter fell, as folly blent 
 The hero-stories of the shadowy East, 
 
 In sad defeat, despair, abandonment. 
 
 The son of Macedon, a conquering band 
 
 Led o'er proud Asia's broad and sunny plains ; 
 Blood-shod they ravaged, conquered every land, 
 
 And crushed in death the Nation's proudest claims 
 But scarce the flying chariot wheels of Time 
 
 This track of smouldering victories had crost 
 When Alexander falls, his death-knells chime, 
 
 And basely are his boasted conquests lost ! 
 So fell the heroes of the lance and spear, 
 
 The bold Crusaders rife with holy zeal ; 
 Their bones were bleached upon the desert drear ; 
 
 On every page Defeat has set his seal ! 
 
 The land of life, of beauty, song and arts. 
 
 Now dark with Moslem clouds and pagan dole, 
 Sheds influence weak, but little truth imparts, 
 
 To form the man and elevate the soul : 
 Ah, lovely East ! fair daughter of the morn ! 
 
 Mother of Art, of Christian life and light ! 
 How did thy orient brilliance once adorn 
 
 The page prolific, gilt with science bright !
 
 CREATION. II 
 
 Ages on ages saw thee queen of life — 
 Ot life progressive ; but thy last farewell 
 
 Began its requiem with the Moslem strife, 
 And o'er thy wasting form the curtain fell ! 
 
 The spirit Progress moves the car of Fate, 
 
 Its ponderous wheels move onward, surely, slow ; 
 Its guiding star-track beamings scintillate, 
 
 And Progress shouts aloud, " Ho ! Westward Ho ! " 
 All Nature joins ; the sun in yellow draped 
 
 Each day, from East to West, his fiery steeds 
 Drives o'er th' ethereal track, as though escaped 
 
 From Night's dark gulf, which mystical recedes : 
 He hurries on to don his night attire, 
 
 And curtained round with evening sinks to rest, 
 While starry sentinels, with twinkling fire. 
 
 Keep vigils by their Maker's high behest. 
 
 Now Luna follows in beclouded grace 
 
 Her mighty lord to airy chambers, where 
 In soft repose of slumber's sweet embrace 
 
 Life's wearied powers in quietude repair ; 
 The god of ocean strength awakes anew, 
 
 And, twice diurnal, o'er the foamy deeps 
 His briny chariot guides, his coursers true. 
 
 In Luna's track his western journey keeps. 
 The northern gales from hollow Borean caves 
 
 Sweep whirling on, and urge their stormy quest 
 To meet proud Kurus on .Atlantic's waves. 
 
 And join his journey to tlie distant West, 
 The beauteous realm of rivers, mount and plain. 
 
 Long, long unknown in all their pristine glow ; 
 Seas, winds and sunbeams, moonlight shades — a train 
 
 All join the line of march — " Flo! Westward Ho!
 
 12 CREATION. 
 
 All human enterprises feel the shock, 
 
 Their grasp relax on oriental mind ; 
 Their treasures seize and hasten to embark . 
 
 With peaceful gales to regions unprefined. 
 Science and Art,l;win-sisters of the skies, 
 
 In youthful blitheness sported on the hills 
 Of Syria fair ; now fain they recognize 
 
 Their home where occidental dew distils ! 
 The Muses felt their loneliness, and sat 
 
 In thoughtful silence by their fountains dear ; 
 Their songs were hushed, joy fled, and hope thereat 
 
 Lost every charm while dropped the scalding tear 
 Hope dawned again upon the soral ?ii?ie, 
 
 As from the East their footsteps turn to roam j 
 They bore their sacred fount across the brine, 
 
 And gave their Helicon a western home. 
 
 Erudite scholars scanned in Egypt's vales 
 
 The air-built concave, diamond-set, and strong ; 
 Their youthful lungs were fanned by fragrant gales 
 
 As danced they, joyful, orange groves among ; 
 But learning doffed her antiquated crown — 
 
 Her magic lamp burnt flickering and vain. 
 And man's progressive strength is resting down 
 
 On fair Columbia's broad o'ershadowing plain. 
 
 Now, let us speed the wing of thought 
 To cleave the dim and dusky past — 
 
 The change four centuries have wrought. 
 With future visions overcast.
 
 C R E A r I O N . 13 
 
 On mild Genoa's sunny plain 
 
 Was born of humble line a son, 
 Whose rising star a monarch's train 
 
 Outshone and dazzled as it run ! 
 A star whose westering pencils threw 
 
 A light o'er Castile, and unfurled 
 For generations yet to view, 
 
 The banners of the Western World ! 
 
 Blow gently wirds that stir the deep ! 
 
 Adventurous barks move o'er it now, 
 Whose trembling sails abroad shall keep 
 
 Their swell, till hails each briny prow 
 Before an unknown island shore, 
 
 That, as an emerald on the sea. 
 Shall signal thence and evermore 
 
 A region destined for the Free ! 
 
 Three ships are anchored in the surf — 
 
 Bold Spaniards tread a stranger coast. 
 Beholding on the flowery turf, 
 
 In reverence bowed, a naked host ! 
 They bowed — by glittering arms deceived. 
 
 By bold Castillian splendors won. 
 And in their iimocence believed 
 
 Them just descended from the sun 1 
 
 The wanderers left San Salvador 
 And spread their snowy sails to seek 
 
 A dreamy coast, a main land shore, 
 
 Though storms should blench each sailor check. 
 
 Exjicctant days thus wore away, 
 Till dim and distant outlines seen
 
 14 CREATION. 
 
 Above the surges' foaming play, 
 
 Grew more defined, and clear, and green. 
 
 Columbus stands upon the prow, 
 A dime he sees before unknown ; 
 
 The shadowy mountain summits bow 
 To greet the world's adventurous son ! 
 
 They landed on the smiling shore, 
 
 A' fair new world around them spread; 
 
 Dark fears which chased them, ocean o'er, 
 Now shrunk away, forever fled ! 
 
 But speed my muse, the lengthening tale ; 
 
 Adventurers arose apace 
 To colonize each beauteous vale 
 
 And Christianize the heathen race. 
 
 Thus centuries their courses rolled 
 
 While many a brow grew sad and frowned 
 
 Foiled in pursuit of fame and gold — 
 By savage killed or ocean drowned. 
 
 De Leon for this new-found sphere 
 
 Embarked in wild chimeral dreams 
 To seek a fount whose waters clear 
 
 Were fraught with pure immortal gleams ! 
 A fount with powers — elixirs rare — 
 
 To check the beautiful's decay, 
 And make the night of age as fair 
 
 As childhood's flowery morn of May ! 
 
 He found a land of wondrous bloom 
 Where every tree was gay with flowers. 
 
 And many a streamlet's sylvan tune 
 Allured the warm and lingering hours.
 
 CREATION. 15 
 
 No fount immortal with them chimed, 
 His steps still pressed a sin-clad Earth 
 
 NVhere only man's undying mind 
 
 Gives glimpses of its heavenly birth ! 
 
 Pizzaro's friend, De Soto, fired 
 
 With love of fame and pride of gold, 
 Led forth an eager host, inspired 
 
 By him with trust and courage bold ; 
 They reached the shore of gems and flowers — 
 
 Like changing meteors o'er the wild. 
 The dazzling phantom still allures, 
 
 And long their fondest hopes beguiled ! 
 
 But yet the cavalier sped o'er 
 
 The flowery acres, far, untried — 
 Far from Atlantic's stormy shore, 
 
 And danger seemed De Soto's guide ! 
 The savage warred, and still they traced 
 
 The miles their sanguine wanderings led ; 
 They penetrated reedy waste, 
 
 And fens where poison serpents fed ! 
 
 Not spectre of the " Dismal Swamp," 
 
 Not Indian's dark revenge and hate, 
 Not wild beasts howling round the camp, 
 
 Could dim ambition's fire elate ; 
 While hope its mantle o'er them spread, 
 
 They forded many a silver stream ; 
 " There's something great and grand ahead," 
 
 Still whispered proud De Soto's dream ! 
 Thus summers passed, mild winters wore 
 
 With march and strife, and death away,
 
 i6 CREATION. 
 
 While scarce came tidings from the shore 
 
 Of distant Spain or Florida ; 
 But no entreaty yet infused 
 
 Regret in Soto ; dark he frowned, 
 Unquailed by danger, on he pressed, 
 
 For " El Dorado " was unfound ! 
 
 Lo ! bursting on their weary gaze, 
 
 A mighty stream is shimmering through 
 The darkly tangled forest maze, 
 
 Reflecting brought the sunset's hue ! 
 Flowing with deep and turbid tide, 
 
 A slowly rolling yellow sea ; 
 Its channel curving, spreading wide — 
 
 Majestic, grand, perpetually ! 
 
 * * * # 
 
 Three hundred twenty years have told 
 
 Their silent stories of the Past ; 
 Dim, dusky parchments have unrolled 
 
 And gleams prophetic onward cast ; 
 Now commerce grand in steamer bold 
 
 On Mississippi's bosom sails ; 
 The Nations distant now behold 
 
 The Star of Empire Westward hails ! 
 
 And still a thousand cycles grey 
 
 May wreathe the rising shaft of time 
 While o'er them to the latest day 
 
 Shall stand De Soto's fate subUme ! 
 Shall mark the man who proudly died 
 
 When first the dawning truth was known 
 Of that grand stream upon whose tide 
 
 Shall float the wealth of millions down !
 
 CREATION. 17 
 
 THE DEATH OF DE SOTO. 
 
 Behold the wasting of a dream, 
 The flickering ot life's lamp ! 
 
 The tents are pitched beside the stream, 
 Low murmurs from the camp 
 
 Are whispering that the hand of death 
 
 Is slowly stealing Soto's breath ! 
 
 An Indian maiden fans his brow. 
 Her coal-tinged eyes are deep ; 
 
 Her tears, as when the south winds blow, 
 Rain as the blossoms weep. 
 
 Falling upon the sufferer's cheek, 
 
 Whose eye of pride is strangely meek ! 
 
 He speaks : " Moscoso ! no return 
 Shall make me conquer more ; 
 
 Ambition's fires have ceased to burn — 
 Farewell my native shore ! 
 
 To mortal man I never bowed. 
 
 But now I meet Jehovah's rod I 
 
 " In my own river, folded round 
 
 With Castile's banner wide, 
 In midnight's hour and shades profound, 
 
 Entomb nie in its tide ; 
 Consign me to the wave-walled tomb, 
 With lighted torch and roll of drum. 
 
 •' Unpaled by man, unknown to fear — 
 
 Alone, O let me sleep ! 
 The conqueror — discoverer 
 2
 
 i8 CREATION. 
 
 Desires no eye to weep, 
 That Soto's watery grave was made 
 Far west of Florid's everglade ! 
 
 " Moscoso ! hear, my follower brave, 
 
 My dying words obey ; 
 Cross not the wilderness ; the wave 
 
 More safely shall convey 
 The remnant of my people back 
 From this illusive, dangerous track ! " 
 
 He from his withered hand withdrew 
 An ancient massive ring. 
 
 And while his lips more livid grew, 
 And fainter ebbed life's spring, 
 
 Moscoso reverently wore 
 
 The pledge De Soto's finger bore. 
 
 See ! noiseless through the tent 
 A savage warrior strides ! 
 
 His plume is by the curtain bent. 
 The wampum girds his sides ; 
 
 His lineaments with war-paint black, 
 
 And shades of death are in his track ! 
 
 A Natchez chief of vengeful laws, 
 
 His tawny neck arrayed 
 In chains of bear and cougar's claws, 
 
 With human tresses made. 
 One hand sustains a war-pipe red, 
 The other, emblems ever dread, 
 
 A bunch of poisoned arrows, bound 
 With skin of rattle-snake.
 
 CREATION. 19 
 
 He broke a silence deep, profound 
 
 As noon upon a waveless lake, 
 As on the couch the gift he flung, 
 Whooping in rage his native tongue ! 
 
 He then defiant raised the pipe — 
 
 No calumet oi peace — 
 The stern, complete, embodied type 
 
 Of a relentless race ! 
 The smoke he puffed but slowly curled, 
 For Soto lingered in the world ! 
 
 The leader saw the fearful scene ! 
 
 With one unearthly tone. 
 With deathly, unrelenting mien 
 
 His arms were upward thrown, 
 He clutched the covermg of his bed 
 As though 'twere lance or rapier dread ! 
 
 With one fierce bound he forward sprung, 
 
 His features flashing fire, 
 *' St. Jago ! " " Spain ! " " De Soto ! " rung 
 
 With stern victorious ire : 
 Then death the struggle made complete, 
 //<r/^// beside the Indian's feet! 
 
 A flood of gore from mouth and eyes 
 
 Too truly told the tale. 
 " Gone ! " " (ione ! " Moscoso cries ; 
 
 The deep-eyed maiden's wail 
 Rose mournful on the forest air, 
 As o'er him fell her glossy hair !
 
 20 CREATION. 
 
 Ambition ! ruler of the soul ! 
 
 Fierce monarch, there thou art ! 
 To many a strange uncertain goal 
 
 Thou leadest mind and heart ; 
 Thou wild inspirer of the breast, 
 That ever after feels no rest ! 
 
 The sun had sunk o'er wave and wild, 
 The noon of darkness breathed 
 
 In tainted damps ; bright stars were piled 
 High up the vault, and wreathed 
 
 The ebon brow of Night, that bade 
 
 A silence chill o'er bluff and glade. 
 
 Five hundred torches flaming red 
 
 Illumed the funeral track, 
 While holy priest with censer led 
 
 The train o'er waters black, 
 And high Te Deum anthems rang. 
 And drums sent forth a muffled clang. 
 
 With Spain's gay ensign folded round, 
 
 Still upright as in life. 
 With sword in hand, by helmet crowned — 
 
 All powerless for strife — 
 The dark canoe, with silent oar. 
 The corse o'er turbid waters bore. 
 
 The shades, commingling with the gleam. 
 Sent awe through every man. 
 
 Midv/ay the dark sepulchral stream, 
 A signal from the van 
 
 Sunk in the flow each lurid light. 
 
 And all was dark as Stygian night.
 
 CREATION. 21 
 
 As down the lifeless burden fell, 
 
 No noisy splasli was heard ; 
 O'er rippling wave or distant dell 
 
 Went forth no echoing word, 
 But slowly turned each fragile bark 
 To face the spectral dangers dark. 
 
 The wild beasts roaming far and near 
 
 Awoke their sullen roar ; 
 And Indian's in their coverts drear 
 
 Felt Soto was no more ! 
 Still moved the Mississippi on 
 As calmly as through ages gone. 
 
 Let Fame around the flushing brow 
 
 Of Genius laurels bind ; 
 Let dusty volumes treasure how 
 
 Old heroes led mankind, 
 How Caesar conquered, Alfred reigned, 
 The glories Alexander gained ! 
 
 Let martyrs bleed, let poets sing, 
 
 And Luther wake the world ; 
 Beside their memories proudly spring 
 
 Prophetic scrolls unfurled 
 By Soto, o'er the mi^^hiiest stream 
 That ever caught a starry gleam /
 
 HISTORY OF JOSEPH. 
 
 (illustrated) 
 A SCRIPTURAL DRAMA. 
 
 INTRODUCTION 
 
 This Drama was composed for the especial use of Piscataquog 
 Sunday School, city of Manchester, New Hampshire, soon after its 
 organization ; the avails to be devoted to the purchase of a Sun- 
 day School Library. By special request it was enacted several 
 times in the city— three times in the Piscataquog Church, and 
 once in a large public hall on the east side of the Merrimac river. 
 A present was made of the avails of one evening to the pastor, 
 and the balance was much more than was needed for the Sunday 
 School Library. The Drama was published in the Manchester 
 Mirror ; called for and used by Sunday Schools of the different 
 denominations in most of the North Eastern States. In Coventry, 
 Rhode Island, it was twice brought out on different evenings by 
 one Sunday School, which received of the net avails sufficient to 
 purchase an entire new library (sending their old books to a newly 
 formed Sunday School of the West), and they deposited fifty dollars 
 in bank for their future use. 
 
 It requires about twenty-five mature, or nearly mature, young men 
 and women, thirteen or fourteen of whom should be good speakers; 
 fourteen children between 8 and I2, about half of whom should well 
 comprehend the subject. 
 
 The whole or parts of the drama may be read with much interest 
 at Sunday School concerts. For its complete success, however, it 
 requires a small scenic arrangement. Drapery is used for cos- 
 tumes — cheap muslin cloth worn over a common dress, with or with- 
 out a belt, for the males, extending almost down to the knee ; for 
 the females, a little below. Color of cloth, pink for the Hebrews ; 
 blue for the Egyptians, with a sash ; coat for Joseph of many colors 
 of the same material. It will be remembered, the drama presents, 
 as does the Scriptures, Joseph the boy just ripening into manhood, 
 and Joseph the man clothed in royalty. A very small outlay is 
 needed.
 
 SCRIPTURAL DRAMA. 
 
 ILLUSTRATION OF THE HISTORY OF JOSEPH TWO ACTS, 
 
 N'lNE SCENES. 
 
 PERSONS REPRESENTED. 
 
 Jacob. 
 
 Lf.ah, i Wives of f.icob, and 
 
 Zu.pn.\, > the mothers of his 
 
 BlLHAH, ) children. 
 
 Dinah, daughter of Jacob. 
 
 Tam.vr, daughter-in-law oi Judah_ 
 
 Reuben, 
 
 Malva, ^ 
 
 DiANTHA, I Egyptian maidens of 
 
 Simeon, 
 Levi, 
 
 JUDAH, 
 
 issachar, 
 Zebulun, 
 Gad, 
 
 ASIIER, 
 
 Dan, 
 
 Sons of Jacob, their 
 mother Leah. 
 
 Sons of Jacob, their 
 mother Ziipha. 
 
 ? Sonsof Jacob.their 
 Nai'HIALI, 5 mother Bilhah. 
 
 Joseph, } Sons of facob, thei"" 
 Benjamin, ) mother Rachel. 
 
 Ishmachtes — From Midian. 
 
 Arvilla, (^Syptian maidens of 
 
 Senora, ( ''^^ Household of 
 ) Joseph. 
 
 Cela, 
 
 Erata, 
 
 Dora, 
 
 Sarah, 
 
 Abel, 
 
 Tela, 
 
 AVA, 
 
 PHAKIS, 
 
 TiKZAH, 
 
 Era, 
 Laban, 
 Ara, 
 Mora, 
 
 M K lA, 
 
 Nina, 
 
 Onana, 
 
 Ala, 
 
 the household of 
 Potiphar. 
 
 Grandchildren of 
 
 J^ 
 
 J 
 
 Jacob. 
 
 Herald — in Egypt. 
 Officers, Guards — in Egypt. 
 
 PROLOGUE TO THE HISTORY OF JOSEPH. 
 
 To kindle into flame the realm 
 
 Of virtue, and to weave 
 A garland to adorn the brows 
 
 Whicli Hope and Life receive; 
 To render Truth more lovely still, 
 
 And Sin, the child of hell, 
 More hideous than Milton's fiends 
 
 Which in the darkness (iwell ; 
 To wake the soul by dint of art,
 
 24 SCRIPTURAL DRAMA. 
 
 To kindle genius bright, 
 To lead to God, to mend the heart. 
 
 To make us bold in right, 
 To show the contest — Life and Death — 
 
 As grappling midst the din 
 Where human nature falls and sinks 
 
 In trespasses and sin ; 
 To show the power of God to crush, 
 
 To blend in Ruin's grave 
 Man's counsels — yet to raise and crown 
 
 His purposes to save : 
 We write these facts, we paint these truths. 
 
 With plain dramatic pen ; 
 The part dressed in the garb of life 
 
 Returns — instructs again ! 
 Seven hundred to three thousand joined. 
 
 Of years in Time's array, 
 Have swept the chords of Life : In these 
 
 We've reached this proud to-day, 
 We back take up the line of march ; 
 
 At present lay aside 
 Our looms, our spindles, plows and mills, 
 
 Our steamboats, railroad ride, 
 Our engines, cable-telegraphs. 
 
 Our lightning wires, our oils — 
 Petroleum, kerosene and whale ; 
 
 Hoops, basques and waterfalls. 
 Dim-shadowed Past ! Ah, distant age ! 
 
 Where patriarchs only trod ! 
 Where Science shed no lucid ray, 
 
 Men lived and walked with God ! 
 They took life's weary burden up.
 
 SCRIPTURAL DRAMA. 25 
 
 They toiled in faith-born prayer, 
 And drank of sorrow's bitter cup, 
 
 They hid their treasures there, 
 • * * * In heaven. 
 E'en now, while we shall strive to please, 
 
 Will not sweet spirits deign 
 Down from the blest descending skies 
 
 To mingle in our train ? 
 Ah, yes ! Kind friends, we now personify 
 The patriarchal host of Canaan, and descry 
 Both those \\\\o/en, and those \i\\o finnly passed 
 In self-denying kindness to the last. 
 In history, thus, you'll find this blessed lore, 
 That, not to breathe, is not to be no more ! 
 The good man fails not with his failing breath. 
 But lives a green vitality in death. 
 
 ACT I. 
 Scene i. — Canaan. Enter V>\\Mk\\ and Zw.vkk. 
 
 Z. — The peace which has our house so blessed. 
 Will soon now pass away. 
 
 B. — Why ? Ziljjha, why ? V.\\\ is ever in thine eye. 
 
 Z. — This time 'twill come — there's no mistake. 
 
 B. — What is it now ? Why so secret — so assured ? Oh, 
 why ? 
 
 /■ — That young, tlial vain, proud fool who has, alas ! 
 Gained all his Father's love — Rachel's pet boy, 
 Is lighting f^imes of strife between my sons, 
 And thy .sons, and their Father! Aye, Lying! 
 Yes, lying to gain his own — his cursed will ! 
 Would that his mother had passed off before
 
 26 SCRIPTURAL DRAMA. 
 
 The mandrakes she had found. The House 
 
 Would not been cursed with her pet brat. 
 B. — O Zilpha ! say not such words of my 
 
 Loved Mistress dear, and her first born. 
 
 No word of hate from her kind Ups e'er fell ; 
 
 She died in love and peace. 
 Z. — Did she not steal the love of Jacob from 
 
 My Mistress Leah ? Answer tne that. 
 
 No, Zilpha, no; Rachel was \\\% first love : 
 
 Cheated by Laban, Leah was Vx?, first wife : 
 
 He treated Leah well ; but Rachel had 
 
 His love. Here Leah comes. 
 
 Enter Leah. 
 
 Z. — What theme so interests you ? 
 
 Z. — I say thy sister stole thy husband's love 
 From thee. You never did receive it as 
 You ought. I've seen it ever suice the day 
 You wed. All eyes must see it if they were 
 Not blind! She says he ne'er did love thee, but 
 Has used thee well! I say, ill treatment 'twas 
 To thus withhold his love. 
 
 L. — Well, Bilhah, what hast thou to say ? 
 
 B. — I say these evils do exist. They're not 
 
 Thy husband's fault. The country's laws are bad- 
 Polygamy exists ; for no one can 
 Two masters serve. The same of wives — he will 
 Love one, the other hate; or, one will have 
 The first or chiefest love. The laws are bad, 
 And troubles always spring from such a base. 
 
 Z. — I must believe Bilhah is in the right 
 
 Z. — Weil, right or wrong, I know it is too bad
 
 SCRIPTURAL DRAMA. . 27 
 
 To have the Father think, what that boy does, and 
 
 says 
 Is right. The mischief-making cub ! I'll let 
 Gad know what he is at ; and your sons, too, 
 Bilhah, will join to squelch his lies. 
 B. — O Zilpha ! On your soul's peace be careful what 
 You do or say ! Joseph I know too much 
 Is petted by his Father dear. But think, 
 Born late in life, his mother dead, and he 
 A child most amiable — more so than mine; 
 You must admit he is more so than thine. 
 Z. — 1 will admit the truth of no such thing. 
 My Gad and Asher are as good 
 As any boys, although their mother is 
 A servant heie in Jacob's house ! Better 
 Boy than mine ! The sheep-faced brat ! 
 Sure, Bilhah, sure, thy mistress was 
 An angel bright ! Her son a seraph, sure ! 
 B. — O Zilpha, dear ! do not be angry ; strive 
 To quench the fire rather than fan the flame. 
 How pleasant to dwell in the household of peace ! 
 " Whatever broils disturb the street 
 There should be peace at home ; 
 Where brothers dwell and sisters meet 
 Quarrels should never come " 
 Z. — O Zilpha! Bilhah is in the right; for bad, 
 And only bad, will come if you fire up 
 The elder boys. You know the blaze of Uan and 
 Gad ! 
 Z. — Gad is no worse than are the rest ; an insult 
 
 He will never take. For that 1 always him com- 
 mend.
 
 28 SCRIPTURAL DRAMA. 
 
 L. — No; Gad's no worse than are the rest. 
 But, after all, it is not clear that Joseph 
 Should be blamed. Just what they did 
 He only told ! Was that wrong ? Was it ? 
 
 Z. — Wrong ? Yes, 'twas wrong. I hate tell-tales 
 And every class of mischief-makers mean. 
 Wherever they are found. 
 
 L. — But Jacob had a right to know, I'm sure ; 
 And Joseph told the truth ! 
 
 Z. — You both may justify this household curse, 
 But 'twill not save. Trouble is coming still, 
 And I rejoice. Yea, earnestly do pray 
 That it will yet clear off that petted cub. 
 
 B. — Should that be Joseph's fate, God's love 
 
 And blessings will attend him wheresoe'er he go ; 
 Such piety and virtue will call down from Heaven 
 Bright guardian Spirits, which shall watch and guide 
 His footsteps in the paths of Truth and Love. 
 
 Enter Sarah. 
 
 S. — O Aunties ! did you see the beautiful, nice coat 
 
 Which grandfather has made for Joseph ? 
 B. — No ; has he ? 
 S. — Yes; all over it has spots of red. 
 
 And blue, and white. O, most lovely ! 
 B. — O grief! 'twill kindle envy, and 
 
 'Twill stir up strife. 
 Z. — Good ; I'm glad ! It is coming as I said ! 
 S. — So we are all glad of it. Joseph is 
 
 So good — so kind — so lovely — we are glad 
 
 He has such a beautiful coat. 
 Z. — Fool ! ( Turns away in disgust.)
 
 SCRIPTURAL DRAMA. 29 
 
 B. — May Abraham's God protect and save 
 
 Us all from danger. [Exeunt Omnes.] 
 
 Scene II. — Canaan — Enter Gad and Dan. 
 
 G. — Did you know the reports of our conduct which 
 have come to our father's ears, Dan ? 
 
 D. — No. Who has told him ? 
 
 G. — His spy, I suppose. 
 
 Z).— What, Joseph ? 
 
 a— Yes. 
 
 D. — Did he tell him all — that we sold the goats and 
 took the money ? 
 
 G. — I think so. My mother said he h.id been talking 
 to Jacob, and she heard say, "the goats were 
 not killed, as they told you." 
 
 D. — Did he tell Jacob we tried to bribe him by giving 
 him a part of the money ? 
 
 G. — I presume he told Jacob every thing he could with 
 the least shadow of truth. The dog! I'll be 
 revenged on him yet. 
 
 D. — I confess, Gad, I feel ashamed of what we did ; 
 and when we tried to bribe Joseph, and he so 
 firmly refused, I never felt so small in my life. 
 He is a faithful boy, I know, but I can't endure 
 him. Jacob loves him more than all ten of us 
 put together. 
 
 G. — I see it all, and I'll be revenged on that young mis- 
 chief-making cub, as my mother calls him. 
 
 jC^«/^rJUDAH,Sl.MEON, ReUUEN, IsSACHARfl//// NaPHTALI. 
 
 yu. — Dan and Gad — What is the conference now ? 
 
 Have you our lather seen ? 
 G. — You have no f.ither, Jud.ih. No one of us has a 
 
 father. Jacob is living, but is no longer a father
 
 30 SCRIPTURAL DRAMA. 
 
 to any one but Joseph. He is his father's dar- 
 ling, and the young brat fills his father's ears 
 with evil reports of us all. 
 yu. — I am aware of this. Our father seems 
 
 Beside himself. He's not the man he was 
 In former years. That boy has just received a coat, 
 ^ More worth — more cost than all the clothes 
 
 He ever gave to me. Skins, dressed of goats, 
 Of sheep, coarse made, are all we've had to wear. 
 His favorite son can wear skins variform — 
 Of leopard bright, the ounce, the genet, fine, 
 All beautifully dressed — arranged ! 
 Oh ! 'tis sad, my brethren dear — cruel, unjust. 
 vS. — This will lead to dreadful consequences yet. I 
 have sworn, and Levi has sworn, and Judah 
 has sworn. 
 G. — And Oad will swear. 
 D. — And Dan will swear. 
 R. — To what, Simeon ? To what are you binding 
 
 yourselves by an oath ? 
 Is. — What will become of the inheritance by and by ? 
 Will Jacob, do you suppose, give it all to 
 Joseph ? 
 Ju. — As is the outlook now, this love engrossed 
 
 Will sweep the whole estate, which eke belongs 
 To all, into the hands of o?ie ! and thus 
 We all, with wives and children dear, must seek 
 Our fortunes in the wide, wide world. 
 Is. — If this is so, then Issachar will swear. 
 R. — What is the oath, Judah, to which you are all bind- 
 ing yourselves ? Will you tell me ? Perhaps I 
 will take it also.
 
 SCRIPTl'RAl, DRAMA. 31 
 
 yu. — O Reuben ! You could never hold one mind 
 For half a day. If you the oath should take 
 To-day, to-morrow you'd repent. But hush ! 
 There comes the two of whom we speak. 
 
 .^V. — Speak them kind — kind words, with burning hearts 
 
 Enter Jacob and Joseph. 
 
 ya. — Hail, my dear children ! are our flocks and herds 
 
 all well cared for ? 
 yu. — E'en truly so, my father dear ; your sons, 
 Obedient to your will, have watched 
 The shepherds and the flocks, and now await 
 Your voice to hear. 
 ya. — Joseph tells me that last night he dreamed a dream. 
 As we are all together 
 I should like to have him repeat it. 
 'j^fl. — " Hear, I pray you, this dream which I have 
 dreamed. For behold, we were binding 
 sheaves in the field, and my sheaf arose and 
 stood upright ; and behold, your sheaves stood 
 round about, and made obeisance to my sheaf." 
 All Bios. — Shalt thou indeed reign over us ? Shalt thou 
 
 have dominion over us ? 
 yo. — I know not what they portend. Jie not angry, my 
 brothers ; how can I be blamed for the dreams 
 which fill my mind when asleep ? I dreamed 
 yet another dream. Behold, the sun and moon 
 and eleven stars made obeisance to me. 
 ya. — What is this dream that thou hast dreamed ? Shall 
 I, and thy mother, and thy brethren come and 
 bow ourselves to thee, to the earth ? Foolish 
 boy !
 
 32 SCRIPTURAL DRAMA. 
 
 yo. — My dear father, do not blame me ; I do not make 
 my dreams. They come and go, I know not 
 how. If I had thought it would have dis- 
 pleased thee and my brothers I would have 
 kept it in my own breast, 
 J^a.- — I know thy dreams are not of thine own making. 
 My dear sons, drive our flocks to Shechem and 
 to Dothan ; you will find at this season abund- 
 ant pasturage there. (7t? J^oseph.^ Come, 
 Joseph, let us go. [Exil Jacob a?ici Joseph.] 
 y^u. — Who ever heard before such impudence, 
 
 Barefaced and bold, yet dressed in truth's disguise 
 Of modest piety ! 
 G. — My blood boiled within me to strike the young cub 
 
 to the earth. 
 D. — A serpent's fang will yet strike him down, fear not. 
 R. — In what is he to blame ? How can he control his 
 dreams ? I have no more wish than you to 
 bow unto him ; but what's a dream ? 
 y^n. — A vision of the night, in which our God 
 Shows forth the destinies of time. You ask, 
 ** Can he his dreams control ? " We will do that. 
 The oath which we have sworn will do this thing. 
 Let's now to Dothan, [Exeunt O/unes.] 
 
 Scene 3. — Canaan. A Tent in Dothan. Enter 
 Reuben and Gad. 
 
 R. — I really regret that you and the brothers are deter- 
 mined to destroy Joseph, Gad. The curse of 
 Abraham's God will follow you. " Whoso 
 sheddeth man's blood by man shall his blood 
 be shed."
 
 I 
 
 SCRIPTURAL DRAMA. 33 
 
 G. — And who will there be to shed it ? except you, per- 
 haps, and you are too chicken-hearted for that. 
 Jacob is the prince of our household ; do you 
 suppose he would doom nine of his sons to 
 death ? But suppose he did, what should we 
 care ? Judah has more influence with the serv- 
 ants than he has ; so, Reuben, who will be 
 our executioners ? 
 
 R — God will be a just avenger of wrongs, Gad, and will 
 bring your heads low before his avenging arm. 
 
 G. — \\€\\ risk that. I know nor care very little for any 
 God; I know and care more for men. 
 
 R. — O Gad ! Are you so far gone in unbelief? Did 
 not God speak to our father Jacob, saying, " I 
 am the God of Abraham, and of Isaac "? Did 
 he not at Bethel see a ladder reaching to 
 heaven, and angels ascending and descending ? 
 
 G — All nonsense ? The imaginings of superstit 
 
 nations around us have gods just as good as 
 ours. Some worship the sun ; some the ox ; 
 others the cat — all superstition! 
 
 R. — And this is infidelity and its fruits. First, disbelieve 
 in God ; next, hate his brother, and last, mnr- 
 der hmi ? Step by step from heaven to h 
 O Gad ! what an awful precipice you are de- 
 scending ! 
 
 G. — Poh ! Superstitious fool ! Take care of yourself; I 
 
 know what I am doing. 
 R. — And you will murder that innocent boy ? 
 G. — Yes, will 1. Wiic'never he comes to Dothan, he 
 NEVER, NEVER gocs back lo his father again. 
 3
 
 34 SCRIPTURAL DRAMA. 
 
 H. — I shall go immediately for our homes and warn him 
 
 of his danger. 
 G. — Then the same fate awaits both you and him. Do 
 
 you think we are to be defeated. Neither God 
 
 nor man shall avert our purpose. That young 
 
 divinity of our father dies ! 
 iP. — Blasphemous boy ! The God which you despise 
 
 could strike you dead ; and he will preserve 
 
 Joseph from your murderous hand, and watch 
 
 in love over his footsteps. 
 
 Enter Isachar, Zebulon, Asher, Dan and Naphtali. 
 
 G. — Hail, brothers ! Any news from home ? 
 
 D. — I saw a shepherd yesterday, who said that Joseph 
 
 left for Shechem, and he will probably be here 
 
 to-day. 
 G. — We must keep a good out-look on this side of the 
 
 glebe, and send the servants to the other side. 
 
 Does Judah know this ? But here he comes. 
 
 Enter Judah, Simeon ajid Levi. 
 
 Do you know, Judah, that Joseph is expected here 
 to-day ? It will afford a fine opportunity. 
 
 ^u. — No. I recoil from the deed, and yet it must be 
 done. 
 
 D. — Or bow our necks 
 
 Is. — Or lose our inheritance. ... 
 
 A. — Or lose all our fat herds 
 
 Z. — Or lose all our seaports, which will yet make us a 
 great people
 
 SCRIPTURAL DRAMA. 35 
 
 G. — Away with your nonsense of inheritance, and fat 
 herds, and seaports ; I hate him ! I hate him, 
 and it shall be done ! 
 
 5. — Yes, Gad ; that's the tune for these times ; keep the 
 pitch, don't flat ! 
 
 L. — Yes, Gad, put it through. I will stand by you. 
 
 jhu. — Well, I shall stand by you, but I abhor the deed 
 and dread the consequences. What say you, 
 Reuben ? You are one of us. Will you share 
 in this most desperate deed to save yourself 
 and family from the yoke of servitude ? 
 
 R. — I have half a mind to join you. 
 
 G. — That is as much mind as you ever had. 
 
 y^u. — I know, Reuben, it is a dreadful alternative to 
 muriler our brother; but to bow ourselves, and 
 leave our sons and daughters slaves to that 
 strippling boy, is insupportable! But yonder 
 the dreatner comes. 
 
 Enter Joseph. 
 
 'yo. — Hail! brethren, hail ! May joy and peace abide. 
 
 Your wives, your little ones are well, and, with 
 
 Our father dear, all send their warmest love. 
 
 Are you in health ? Judah, methinks 
 
 You look quite pale ! and all seem not as wont ! 
 
 Why those dark frcjwns ? Judah, my brother, why ? 
 
 You were always wont to speak in love. 
 
 Dear brother (jad, why look so angry ? Why 
 
 So fierce ? Give me your hand ! 
 G. — Stand back, base wretch ! Speak what you will, for 
 death will soon seal up your eyes.
 
 36 SCRIPTURAL DRAMA. 
 
 yo. — Oh ! why is this ? Protect me, Judah ! Oh ! 
 
 What have I done to call on me your hate ? 
 
 Our father's God doth know that I have loved 
 
 You all, and shall still love, do what you will 
 
 To me. 
 S. — Gad, stop nis prating ; do your work. 
 
 (Gad advances with a club ; Judah interferes.) 
 
 yu. — Let the toy have time to send a message to our 
 
 father ; withhold thy blow, Gad ! 
 G. — "Send a message to our father !" Judah, you are 
 bewildered. Isn't our father to understand he 
 is killed by a wild beast ? 
 J^o. — Oh, save me, brothers, from this dreadful death ! 
 
 Oh, save me for my poor old father's sake ! 
 
 Oh, save me for my little brother's sake ! 
 
 Save me, that I may love you all, and do you good. 
 
 Oh, Judah, think how once I saved 
 
 Your little Er and Onan from the bear, 
 
 And brought them safely home! 
 
 And will you now stand by and see 
 
 My brother Gad dash out my brains ? 
 R. — Brothers, you know that deep, dark pit 
 
 Upon the mountain's side ? From thence 
 
 No man or beast could ever come alive. 
 
 Let's place him there. Death soon will do 
 
 Its work, and leave our hands unstained 
 
 With Ijrother's blood. 
 G. — No ; let's do the work 
 
 We have begun, effective and complete.
 
 SCRIPTURAL DRAMA. 37 
 
 5^M. — Gad, Reuben counsels well. Lei's do 
 
 As he has said, and then our brother's blood 
 Will not our hands defile, (io, Reuben, go 
 And bring the cord by which the youngling 
 May be bound and cast into the pit. [£xU Reuben.] 
 
 Z. — But who are those approaching from the North ? 
 Say, are they travelers o'er the desert to the Sunny 
 South ? 
 
 yu. — Yes, that they are; and now, 
 
 My brothers, here's a thought you will approve : 
 " Let us sell Joseph to the Ishmaelites, and let not 
 
 our hands 
 Be upon him, for he is our brother and our flesh." 
 
 G. — I object ; I wish to make the thing secure. 
 
 yu. — So do we all; but just as sate a bond slave in 
 
 Egypt 
 
 As if beneath the sod. Do any object ? 
 G. — Yes, I object. 
 
 S. — Yes, Judah; I'm with Gad; I object. 
 yu. — What say you, Levi ? 
 Z. — Sell him; anything to rid us of his presence. 
 yu. — Dan, you have not spoken yet. 
 /J. — I have no choice, if he is only safe. 
 yu. — Naphtali and Asher ? 
 A/". — Sell him, but use smooth words, 
 
 Nor let those heathen know he is uur brother. 
 A. — I shall recommend the sale as best by far 
 
 To give us rest and quiet. 
 yu. — There are six for the sale, two against. 
 
 And Dan is on the fence. 
 
 I shall close the sale. Hut, Joseph, mark.
 
 38 SCRIPTURAL DRAMA. 
 
 If one word you speak, xQvtzSmg your position here 
 To us, Gad's club shall close your mouth. 
 But see, they're here. 
 
 E?lter ISHMAELITES. 
 
 Hail, strangers, hail ! and do you ever 
 
 Purchase boys to sell for slaves in your 
 
 Own native land ? 
 Jsh. — Aye, that we do. 
 
 Have you some lads that you would like to sell ? 
 y^u. — Yes, here is one. 
 Ish. — What ! that young princely boy, so beautifully clad 
 
 In that bright parti-colored coat? And, sir, 
 
 If you had not him offered us for sale 
 
 I should have thought indeed he was your son, 
 
 Or sure he was your brother, he is, good sir. 
 
 So very like yourself ! But sure this cannot be, 
 
 For men, though in a wicked world, do not 
 
 Their children dear, nor brothers sell. 
 
 He must be some young prince, you in 
 
 The wars have taken, 
 "J^u. — 'Tis true. 
 
 Your eye, far-seeing, has discerned the truth ; 
 
 But all this matters not, he is our boy. 
 
 And him we wish to sell — 
 
 Sell into bondage in some far-off land. 
 
 What will you give ? 
 Ish. — We can offer you thirty silver marks. 
 y^u. — And let us keep the coat ? 
 Ish. — Yes, that is what we meant. The boy we buy. 
 
 And not the coat and boy. 
 y^u. — Count out the money ; he is yours.
 
 SCRIPTURAL DRAMA. y) 
 
 (IsHMAELiTES cou/if out the f/io/iey, and depart with 
 
 Joseph.) 
 
 There, now, the dreadful work is done — 
 
 There's nought of Joseph with us but his coat. 
 
 But O ! how dreadful is the deed we've wrought ! 
 
 My soul recoils with horror at the thought. 
 
 Oh, my dear father ! What will Jacob say, 
 
 Now his dear son is torn from him away ? 
 
 Who'll kill the kid, and dip the coat in blood ? 
 6^.— I'll do that deed. 
 yu. — And who to Jacob will the coat present ? 
 
 Far off may Judah be — far off from his lament. 
 S. — I'll take the coat to Jacob, bloody, rent and torn ; 
 
 He'll think a wild beast hath devoured his son. 
 
 All will be well. 
 
 The dreams and dreamer we shall see no more. 
 G. — I should be better satisfied if his blood besmeared 
 that coat than a kid's. I wish now he was 
 beneath the sods of Dothan. \Exeunt Omnes.\ 
 
 Scene 4. — Canaan — Jacob's House. 
 
 Enter Tamar and Dinah. 
 
 T. — Are you aware, Dinah, of the bitter feeling against 
 Joseph in the minds of his brethren ? 
 
 D. — I know something of it, and exceedingly regret the 
 course which my father has taken. He is very 
 partial to Joseph, and werd'it not for his amia- 
 ble disposition he would be hated by the whole 
 household. 
 
 T. — This springs from parental partiality, envy, malice, 
 revenge, I fear murder.
 
 40 • SCRIPTURAL DRAMA. 
 
 D. — O, no, Tamar, not murder ! It cannot come to that. 
 
 T. — I fear it. 
 
 D. — What, murder ? 
 
 T.-r-\ do. You know the dreams which Joseph told the 
 family of late. It is talked in every household. 
 He is thought to be aspiring to rule over his 
 brethren. 
 
 D — How can they think this of Joseph — so kind, so 
 amiable, so modest, so virtuous ? 
 
 T. — They believe his modesty and virtue only a cloak 
 for his ambition. He has already supplanted 
 them in the affections of the father. This will 
 lead to the possession of all the inheritance, 
 and thus he will easily effect his purpose — 
 driving them out, or subduing them to his will. 
 
 D. — This is all false reasoning — the result of envy and 
 jealousy. I do not believe such an idea ever 
 entered the mind of my brother ; nor is it his 
 wish that our father should favor him above the 
 rest. I have heard his kind suggestions rela- 
 tive to our brothers. He has no wish to sup- 
 plant them. 
 
 T. — Perhaps you are right, but his brothers fiel very dif- 
 ferently, and I really fear he will never come 
 back from Dothan whither he has now gone. 
 
 D. — Why, Tamar, you alarm me ! 
 
 T. — There is cause, for alarm ! 
 
 D. — What do you know ? Do inform me ? 
 
 T. — Nothmg, Dinah, but dark hints, and mysterious 
 threats ; and these signify much when uttered 
 by Gad, and Dan, and Simeon.
 
 SCRIPTURAL DRAMA. 41 
 
 D. — Have you heard anything from your father-in-law, 
 
 Judah ? 
 T. — No; but he is thoughtful and sad, and scarcely smiles 
 
 from mornnig to night. Something lies heavily 
 
 on his mind. 
 
 Enter Jacob and Ala-Tei..a, Mora and Ara. 
 
 ya. — A friendly greeting, daughters. I have just made 
 the tour of all our families, and looked in upon 
 them this morning. .VU are well. What man 
 on earth so happy as I ! What family so blest, 
 so extended, so prosperous as ours ? Death 
 has made Init one desolate place within my 
 heart ; all else is happy. See our possessions 
 extending — our family increasing, and peace, 
 and harmony, and brotherly love, in all our 
 dwellings. Truly we shall realize, and that 
 soon, Jehovah's promise to Abraham : " I will 
 multiply thy seed exceedingly, that it shall not 
 be numbered for the multitude." 
 
 T. — Sincerely do 1 pray, dear father, that your fondest 
 hopes will be realized ; but you know the thorn 
 grows near the rose, dark clouds obscure the 
 light of day, and the world since the fall has 
 been full of briars and thorns. 
 
 ^fl.— True, Tamar, true; but the God of Bethel once 
 appeared to me, and 1 have never doubted his 
 faithfulness since. His word is sure. I know 
 that my Redeemer liveth ; that he will perlorm 
 his promise, and lake me to his rest.
 
 42 SCRIPTURAL DRAMA. 
 
 T. — True, father ; but he may lead you through vales of 
 sorrow and rivers of affliction before you see 
 that rest. 
 
 Enter Simeon, Leah, Zilpha and Bilhah. 
 
 ya. — What, Simeon ! Whence comest thou ? 
 
 S. — This have we found i^preseniing the bloody coat of 
 
 Joseph) ; know now, whether it be thy son's 
 
 coat or no ? 
 'ya. — It is my son's coat. An evil beast hath devoured 
 
 him. Joseph is, without doubt, torn in pieces. 
 
 \Exit Simeon. J 
 Ala. — Dear grandfather, maybe he got away and only 
 
 lost his coat. 
 Tela. — Joseph will come back again, grandfather. 
 Mora. — Is Joseph lost ? 
 Ara. — Is that bloody coat Joseph's, grandfather? 
 
 (Jacob seetns fainting.^ 
 
 T. — Faint not, dear father, nor repine at the dealings of 
 
 Jehovah. Your dear son now hves with God ; 
 
 earth no longer holds him ; he lives in heaven. 
 jfa. — O comfort me not ! — comfort me not ! My days 
 
 are like a weaver's shuttle, and will soon pass 
 
 away. 
 
 Enter Meta, aged 16, a7id Pharis, and Nina, and Laban 
 
 ajid Abel. 
 
 Met. — {7o Zilpha) Say, aunty, has Joseph gone away? 
 Z. — Hush ! Yes, I hope so, where he never will come 
 
 back. 
 Met. — Aunty, where has he gone ? What is the trouble ? 
 Z. — Hush,,! say.
 
 SCRIPTURAL DRAMA. 43 
 
 Met. — (7//r/////^/V7 Bilhah) Aunt Bilhah, will you tell 
 nie where Uncle Joseph has gone ? 
 
 B. — Dear child, he is dead. A wild beast has devoured 
 him. 
 
 Nina. — Was it a bear ? 
 
 Z. — Oh, Jacob, be comforted ! You know how you 
 have taught us all to trust in God in our days 
 and hours of affliction. Will you not — can you 
 not — apply to yourself what you have taught to 
 others ? 
 
 ya. — O Leah, this overwhelms me with anguish. " I 
 \Vill go down to the grave to my son mourn- 
 ing." [Exeunt Jacob, Tamer, Leah 
 and BiLHAH.] 
 
 pilaris. — Meta, is Joseph dead ? 
 
 Met. — Yei, Pharis, our dear Uncle Joseph is killed by a 
 wild beast. 
 
 Laban — Was it a bear, a lion, or what ? 
 
 Mi-t. — I cannot tell you, Laban. You saw the coat ; 
 didn't you ? 
 
 Liib. — Yes. Where is Joseph now ? 
 
 .\fet. — He is an angel in heaven. 
 
 Lab. — Has he got wings ? 
 
 Met. — Yes, I suppose so. All angels have wings. 
 
 Lab. — Will he not fly down here some lime and see us ? 
 O, I wish he would ! 
 
 Met. — Perhaps he will ; angels sometimes do fly down 
 to the earth. 
 
 Lab. — Do all that die go up to heaven and he angels, 
 Mcta ? 
 
 Met. — Yes; all the good.
 
 44 SCRIPTURAL DRAMA. 
 
 Lab. — Then my little kid, that fell into the brook and 
 drowned, and Ara's lamb, are little angels in 
 heaven. O, I wish I was there. 
 
 Met.—\ don't know, Laban, about kids and lambs going 
 to heaven and being angels. 
 
 Lab. — You said all the good went there. They were 
 good. 
 
 Met. — I meant all good folks, like Uncle Joseph. 
 
 ^^.^How can Joseph be in heaven, Meta ? The beast 
 that killed him has eaten him up, all but his 
 bones, and now you say he is an angel up in 
 heaven, and got wings. It cannot be. 
 
 Met. — It was his body, Abel, that was devoured by the 
 beast. We have all two parts, a body and a 
 soul; Joseph's body is dead, and the beast has 
 eaten it up, but his soul still lives and is an 
 angel in heaven. 
 
 Ab. — Have I a soul, Meta ? 
 
 Met. — Yes, Abel, you have a soul and a body. 
 
 Ab. — What part of me is it which eats ? 
 
 Met. — It is your body, Abel, which eats and drinks. 
 
 Ab. — Tell me what my soul does, Meta. 
 
 Met. — Your soul thinks, and loves, and hates, and is 
 pleased, and is sorrowful ; do you understand ? 
 
 Ab. — Yes, I think I do. It is this : my soul thinks of 
 my dinner, and then my body goes home and 
 eats It. 
 
 Met. — Exactly so. The other day, when I was at your 
 tent, you struck Elmor. Now, you see, when 
 your soul was angry, your hand struck; when 
 your soul is pleased, your face smiles ; when 
 grieved, your face weeps.
 
 SCRIPTURAL DRAMA. 45 
 
 Ara. — What do they do in heaven, Meta? 
 
 Af^f. — They 'ove God and sing his praises. 
 
 A/a. — Is that all ? 
 
 A/f/. — Perhajis not ; there are many employments lor the 
 soul which we cannot now understand. 
 
 Ara. — Do they have harps and musical instruments 
 there ? 
 
 Aft/. — Yes, I think they do. 
 
 Ara. — If Joseph should come back, he will tell us all 
 about it • will he not ? 
 
 A/if/. — I cannot tell you, Ara. Most of these things I 
 know but little about, but God appeared to our 
 great grandfather, Abraham, and told him many 
 things — that we should be a multitude ot peo- 
 ple, that we shall live after we die, that the 
 good shall be happy, and the wicked miserable, 
 and many other things which I cannot remem- 
 ber. 
 
 Ara. — Will there be trees in lieaven, and flowers, and 
 brooks, and green grass ? 
 
 Aft/. — I cannot tell you, Ara, but I think so. God would 
 never have given us these desires and sources of 
 happiness, if they were not to be gratified. But, 
 my dear cousins, I cannot state, as a certainty, 
 many of these things ; we must all live by faith. 
 
 Ara. — How is that, Meta ? 
 
 Aftr/. — Believe tliat God will do ju.it what he says he 
 will; more than this, that he will give us and 
 do for us just what is best. 
 
 Ara. — O, is not this beautiful — to believe in, and trust in 
 such a God ! Why, Meta, such a being seems 
 like a father — " a Father in Heaven " — and
 
 46 SCRIPTURAL DRAMA. 
 
 our Uncle Joseph has gone up to this " Father 
 in Heaven," and when up there he will remem- 
 ber us all, and love us all, as much as he did 
 when he was down here with us. Maybe he is 
 thinking of us now, and looking down here. 
 Can he, Meta, can he look down here and see 
 us? 
 
 Met. — I cannot tell you; perhaps he can, perhaps not, 
 he cafi certainly remember us and love us. 
 
 Ara. — My soul, the part of which you have been teUing 
 us, Meta, seems inspired to sing a funeral dirge 
 to our dear uncle Joseph. Come, you all join 
 V ™e : 
 
 Where now is Joseph, our dear, dearest friend ? 
 
 Gone, gone away, gone, gone away. 
 Whence now shall hope and shall comfort descend. 
 
 Since he is gone, gone away ? 
 Heaven has called him to bid us adieu, 
 Virtue on Earth he no longer pursues. 
 Glory is ever now full in his view, 
 
 Since he is gone, gone away. 
 Lovely on earth was our uncle so dear. 
 
 Gone, gone away, gone, gone away. 
 Sweetly and kindly he soothed every fear, 
 
 But he is now gone away. 
 Smiles of affection beamed forth from his eyes, 
 He taught us the pathway of glory to rise — 
 How to ascend from the earth to the skies — 
 
 But he is now gone away. 
 The rose drops her petals, the violet her head. 
 
 He is away — gone, gone away.
 
 SCRIPTURAL DRAMA. 47 
 
 Sorrow in sackcloth now mourns for the dead, 
 
 Since he is now gone away. 
 The vales which he traversed now see him no more ; 
 The children — he taught them their God to adore — 
 Alas ! are now left on this desolate shore, 
 
 Joseph is gone, gone away. \Exeunf Omnes\ 
 
 [end of act I, COMPRISING 4 SCENES.] 
 
 PROLOGUE— SECOND PART. 
 
 Ah Summer ! why not crown the opening year ? 
 
 Ah, why withhold the sunshine from the plains ? 
 The chosen tribes, in sadness far and near, 
 
 Wait lingering the early latter rains. 
 Genius of harvest ! must the festal shrine 
 
 Of Salem cease ? Her songs of grateful praise 
 Be hushed and heard no more in Palestine — 
 
 Those songs of faith that thrilled their childhood days ? 
 The answer comes not in the thunder's roar. 
 
 Nor yet in rain drops moist'ning earth in love; 
 Nor yet in waves that break along the shore. 
 
 But in reponses from the God above. 
 "Jacob! sad, suffering son of sorrow, hear! 
 
 I once in Bethel spoke. That word 
 Was registered in heaven, and must appear 
 
 Though worlds are shattered, all creation stirred I " 
 Thus, friends, we move m God's almighty plan ; 
 
 Upon the Nile's broad banks our scenes are told; 
 So trace with us God's wonder-working hand. 
 As truths on truths in startling course unfold.
 
 48 SCRIPTURAL DRAMA. 
 
 ACT II. 
 
 Scene i. — In Egypt. — The house of Potiphar. Enter 
 Joseph and Malva. 
 
 AI. — Joseph, I have observed that you never go to our 
 temples of worship or mingle in the feasts and 
 dances held in honor of our gods. Why is it ? 
 Do you not worship the great God Osiris in 
 your land ? 
 'y o. — No, Malva, no. The God we worship made 
 The earth, the heavens, the dry land and the sea. 
 Your gods are idols and have no power. 
 M. — O you wicked boy ! I fear that our mighty god, 
 the great Osiris, will pierce you through with 
 his dreadful horns for thus mocking his power. 
 Our priests relate horrid deeds that he has done 
 in his anger. O, I fear for you, and for us all, 
 lest his wrath and curse fall upon this house- 
 hold. 
 Jo. — Malva, fear not. The ox, your god, is good 
 For labor, toil and food ; but powerless is 
 For life, or love, or hate. 
 M. — O Joseph, if you could hear the priests relate what 
 he has done ! Stopped the rains, blasted the 
 corn, sunk vessels in the sea, raised hurricanes 
 and storms, overthrown whole armies. 
 "jFo. — Malva, I cannot longer stay ; farewell ! 
 
 The vineyard calls ; some other time, not now. 
 
 \Exit J^oseph.'] 
 
 M. — (A/one.) Oh, how dreadful to deny the power of 
 
 our gods ! How I pity that lovely young man, 
 
 so good, so kind, so intelligent, so obliging, so 
 
 faithful, and yet an unbeliever!
 
 SCRIPTURAL DRAMA. 49 
 
 Enter Diantha, Cela, Erata atid Dora. 
 
 D. — Why so wild and fearful, Malva ? 
 
 M. — That young Hebrew to whom Potiphar has en- 
 trusted all his affairs, who is steward of the 
 house, the gardens, the lands — could you be- 
 lieve it, is an infidel ! — says our great Osiris is 
 only an ox ! 
 
 D — And does that frighten you, Malva ? 
 
 E. — I should think it ought to if it doesn't. 
 
 D. — Does it frighten you ? 
 
 E. — Frighten me ! Yes, it does frighten me. 
 
 D. — You do not look very much frightened, Erata ! 
 You look more angry than frightened. 
 
 E. — It ought to make every one angry. A young He- 
 brew upstart, a slave — to speak against the 
 gods of our country ! What should we have 
 been but for Osiris, the great son of the mighty 
 Jupiter ? Has not Orus watched over the Nile, 
 causing it to overflow its banks, and is he not 
 the Governor of the world, and the Author 01 
 plenty ? Does not Isis preside over our corn, 
 and fill our houses with food, bringing to our 
 land the yellow sheaves filled with golden 
 grain ? Do not the gods do all this, Diantha ? 
 
 D. — Not as I can say, P>ata. 
 
 E. — .Not as you can say ! Who does it, then ? 
 
 D. — I am not very wise in such matters. I know we 
 have these good things ; but I should sooner 
 believe that Joseph's God was their author. 
 
 M. — Joseph's God ! Diantha, do you know what you 
 are saying ? You ought to be ashamed of your- 
 self — deny the gods of your country ! You are 
 4
 
 50 SCRIPTURAL DRAMA. 
 
 wonderfully smitten with this young Hebrew ! 
 I should like to see him strung up, the infidel 
 dog ! Corrupting this whole household and 
 turning them to infidels ! 
 
 C. — Why, Erata, how angry you are ! It seems to me 
 if the gods you worship were good, you would 
 not get so angry. That young Hebrew whom 
 you wish to see hung up never gets angry. He 
 is mild, and true, and firm. You remember, 
 Dora, how that under-gardener insulted him 
 the other day. 
 
 Do. — Yes, indeed, I do ; he called him a Hebrew dog, 
 and a Hebrew calf, but not one word of retali- 
 ation or anger came from his lips. 
 
 D. — The God that such a good man worships must be 
 the true God. 
 
 E. — He doesn't worship any god. 
 
 M. — Yes, he does, Erata. He worships something. I 
 dare not stay here [seefns frightened). Hark! 
 didn't you hear it thunder ? 
 
 D. — Thunder ! No, you foolish girl, it is only the beat- 
 ing of your own heart. 
 
 E. — I tell you he is an infidel, and he will bring the 
 anger of the gods upon Potiphar and all of us, 
 his household. The hghtnings and thunders of 
 their wrath will yet be poured down upon us 
 like the fires which burnt up the regions of the 
 .Upper Nile and melted old Atlas into streams 
 of liquid fire. 
 
 M. — The gods preserve me ! What shall I do ? I wish 
 I had never come here.
 
 SCRIPTURAL DRAMA. 51 
 
 D. — Do not be so fearful, Malva. You see Cela and 
 
 Dora, younger than you, are not afraid. 
 E. — Those that know nothing fear nothing. I should 
 recommend, Diantha, that you and your com- 
 pany build a temple and worship the young 
 Hebrew. 
 
 C. — I should quite as soon do that as worship the ox, as 
 you do. 
 
 D. — Take care, little Cela, or your anger will begin to 
 rise. 
 
 C. — Those that know nothing fear nothing, and, by con- 
 sequence, are accountable for nothing; so you 
 see, Diantha, I shall go safe. But such know- 
 ing damsels as Erata — one who is so well ac- 
 quainted with the gods that she can number 
 their horns, and their feet, and their hoofs — 
 must walk straight. What thmk you, Dora? 
 
 Do. — I do not know ; but I have always thought that 
 worshipping good gods made good folks. If 
 this is true, Joseph's God must be a good God, 
 for he is a good man. 
 
 D — I think we had better ask him in, that he may in- 
 form us more of his God and his religion. Shall 
 we call hiiu in ? 
 
 M — I beg you not to do it; he will surely bring some 
 evil upon us. 
 
 Do. — Do ask him in ; I love to hear him talk. 
 
 E. — Do as you please; I neither love nor fear him ; but 
 I hate both him and his religion. 
 
 D. — Go, Dora, and call him in. \^Exit Dora. J 
 
 1/ — The gods preserve me. I dare not stay in his pre- 
 sence. \Exit Malva. J
 
 52 SCRIPTURAL DRAMA. 
 
 Enter Joseph and Dora. 
 
 3^<?. — Why did you call me ? 
 
 D. — We would like to know of you concerning your 
 religion and the God that you worship. 
 
 y 0. — One God I serve and only one. I bow 
 Before Jehovah, God, Creator, Lord 
 Of earth and heaven. 
 
 D, — Where does he dwell ? 
 
 Jo. — A Spirit. He all space pervades — earth, heaven. 
 
 D. — What is his character ? 
 
 Jo. — God is love, holiness, truth, purity, power. 
 
 D. — Has he given you any commands, and what are 
 they? 
 
 Jo. — Yes ; God requires our love to him, 
 To what he loves, and is. 
 
 D. — What influence will this have on the life ? 
 
 Jo. — Such faith will make believers like their God ! 
 
 Mark now the fact. The heathen world believes in, 
 Bows to, reveres unholy gods ; this faith attaints 
 The soul ; makes that soul like the god it serves. 
 More still — the man, body, and soul, his loves and 
 
 hates, 
 Are all controlled by what he sees, or thinks 
 He sees, within his God. Hence here we see, 
 Direct before our eyes, unholy worship 
 Makes unholy men, and women, too. 
 
 D. — Have your ancestors always believed this ? 
 
 Jo. — Not so ; our ancestors once lived far, far 
 From this, in Ur. God called to Abraham, 
 Four generations back, and said to him, 
 " Get thee out of thy country, and from thy father's 
 house, into a land which I will show thee."
 
 SCRIPTURAL DRAMA. 53 
 
 D. — Did his God go with him and bless him ? 
 
 yo. — His blessings sure did on him rest, and since 
 Has been, as God declared, " his shield, and his 
 Exceeding great reward." I must not stay. 
 Farewell! [^.v/V Joseph.] 
 
 D. — Well, Erata, what do you think now ? 
 
 E. — Much as I did before ; he is an infidel, and a blas- 
 phemer of our gods. 
 
 C. — But is not he a better man than our Egyptians ? 
 
 Do. — Does he not show more love, and more kindness, 
 and less anger than our Egyptian men ? 
 
 E. — Well, he is not as bad as he might be. We will 
 talk of this some other time. [Exeunt Omnes.] 
 
 Scene 2. — In Egypt. — /// a portion of the Royal Court, 
 Enter Naphtali and Issachar. 
 
 N — This lias been a long journey, but here we are at 
 last in Egypt. 
 
 is. — An expensive journey, too. What an amount of 
 money we have expended, and shall have to 
 expend. My heart groans, being burdened. 
 
 N. — Groan ; yes, you will groan any time for a penny, 
 faint for a shilling, and die for a pound. 
 
 Is. — Well, Naphtali, I know the worth of money better 
 than you do. You are a fool to waste all your 
 time in hunting ; you had better mind the main 
 chance, and lay up something for a rainy day. 
 
 N. — I had rather trust rainy days to rain down bread 
 than be such a miserable creature as you are.
 
 54 SCRIPTURAL DRAMA. 
 
 Enter Dan, Gad, Asher, Reuben, Simeon, Levi, 
 
 ZeBULON «;/fl^ JUDAH. 
 
 D. — Stop your quarrelsome tongues; here we are hun- 
 dreds of miles from home, our wives and chil- 
 dren on the brink of starvation, our aged father 
 bowed down with grief, and you quarreling and 
 contending. 
 
 N. — Really, Dan, this is amusing. You have always 
 ■ been a wonderful peacemaker in the house of 
 Jacob. You have been ever ready to quarrel 
 and fight for peace. 
 
 R. — We came over the very road, I expect, which 
 Joseph traveled twenty years ago. Did any of 
 you think of that as we came on ? 
 
 D. — It is something I never wish to think of 
 
 R. — What if we should meet him here in the street. 
 Think you we should know him ? 
 
 D. — Reuben, why do you wish to be ever brmging up 
 that unpleasant subject ? 
 
 R. — I do not see why it should be unpleasant. You 
 have always justified yourselves and say you 
 did right. When I do right, it is a pleasant 
 subject to me. 
 
 D. — I do not justify myself. I wish I had not done it. 
 It has destroyed my peace for life, perhaps for- 
 ever. 
 
 A. — I am of the same mind, but what is done is done. 
 
 Enter Herald. 
 
 H. — His Excellency, the Governor of Egypt, is approach- 
 ing. You will observe the custom of our land,
 
 SCRIPTURAL DRAMA. 
 
 55 
 
 and with uncovered heads bow low as in the 
 presence of Pharoah. [Exit Herald.] 
 
 yit- — Be very careful to obey ; our life depends on our 
 behavior. 
 
 Enter Joseph and Retinue. T/if brethren all bow low. 
 
 yo. — I learn by your petition you have come from a 
 foreign land to buy corn. From what country 
 do you come ? 
 
 G. — From the land of Canaan, to buy food. 
 
 yo. — Ye are spies. To see the nakedness of the land 
 ye are ceme. 
 
 G. — Nay, my lord, but to buy food are thy servants 
 come. We are all one man's sons ; we are 
 true men ; thy servants are no spies. 
 
 'jfo. — Nay, but to see the nakedness of the land ye have 
 come. 
 
 G. — Thy servants are twelve brethren, the sons of one 
 man \ and behold, the youngest is this day with 
 our father, and one is not. 
 
 yo. — That is it which I have said unto you : ye are spies ! 
 
 G. — For the truth of what I have said, 1 appeal to my 
 elder brothers. 
 
 yo. — Send one of your number and bring your younger 
 brother, or by the life of Pharoah, ye shall not 
 go forth. \Exit ]b%^vy\ and his train.\ 
 
 jfu. — We are very guilty concerning our brother, in that 
 we saw the anguish of his soul, when he be- 
 sought us, and we would not hear; therefore, 
 is this distress come upon us. 
 
 All. — {The brothers speak at once.) Yes, we are verily 
 guilty, iheretore is this distress come upon us.
 
 56 SCRIPTURAL DRAMA. 
 
 R. — Spake I not unto you, saying, sin not against the 
 child, and ye would not hear ; therefore his 
 blood is required. 
 
 E7iter Herald. 
 
 H. — His Excellency, the Governor of Egypt, is approach- 
 ing ; you will observe the customs of our land, 
 and, with uncovered head, bow low as in the 
 presence of Pharaoh. 
 
 Enter Joseph and Retinue. 
 
 jf 0. — Have you left your families and the household of 
 your father well supplied with bread ? 
 
 R. — No, my lord; famine was staring us in the face, and 
 if we return not, our aged father, our younger 
 brother, and all our wives and little ones will 
 soon die. 
 
 yo. — Herewith shall ye be proved. Let one of your 
 number be bound in prison ; and as for you, 
 get you in peace to your own land, and bring 
 your youngest brother with you. {^To the 
 guards.') Bind that man. {They bind Simeon.) 
 
 \^Exeu7it Omnes.] 
 
 Scene 3. — Canaan. — The House of Jacob. Enter 
 Jacob and Dinah. 
 
 ya. — Throughout the land this famine far extends ; 
 
 Gloom walks the streets, and hunger sits at every door . 
 
 And much I fear that my ten sons will fail 
 
 In Egypt to procure a full supply. 
 
 E'en there, where plenty reigns, hunger's dark horde^ 
 
 Will soon exhaust supplies.
 
 SCRIPTURAL DRAMA. 57 
 
 D. — How is it, dear father, that there is so much corn 
 
 in Egypt, when there is none elsewhere? 
 ya. — Those men, with whom I held converse, declared 
 Egypt's bold Prince, one high approved, and blest 
 By God — the God to whom he bows — 
 By him directed, he stored up the corn 
 In plenteous years, against the time of dearth 
 And want. 
 D. — Are not the Egyptians idolaters ? How could his 
 God give him the spirit of prophecy ? None but 
 the worshipper of Jehovah, of Abraham's God 
 can receive his directions and imbibe his spirit" 
 ya. — You are right. 'Tis Abraham's God alone 
 Who gives true faith, true love, true holiness. 
 And thus the life, the soul secures. But thus 
 The travelers spake. 
 D. — If their relation is true, we shall find that this Gov- 
 ernor of Egypt is a worshipper of Abraham's 
 God, though, by some cause, living in an idol- 
 atrous land. 
 ya. — This, Dinah, may be true. But now 'tis time 
 
 My sons return. When went they out ? 
 D. — Ves, we expect them to-day. This is the thirtieth 
 
 since they departed. 
 y a. — Anxiety and fear disturb my mind 
 Lest on the way they danger meet, 
 For since the death of my dear boy, by wild 
 Beasts torn, sleep flies and darkness o'er me broods. 
 
 Enter Tik/aii and AvA. 
 
 //>. — They're coming ! They're coming, away toward the 
 plains of Shinar.
 
 58 SCRIPTURAL DRAMA. 
 
 Av. — I saw Uncle Judah's big white mules, and all the 
 company coming down the valley, and I could 
 see the great white sacks of corn. 
 
 Tir. — So could I, and all the boys have started off to 
 meet them and welcome them home. 
 
 Enter Era. 
 
 Era. — Your sons have all arrived in safety. I think I 
 saw the whole ten as they descended into the 
 valley. 
 ^a. — Blest be our God that they are safe returned. 
 
 Have they abundant corn ? 
 Era. — Their mules were heavily laden, and moved slowly. 
 
 Enter Onana. 
 
 On. — Our Uncle Simeon has not come. 
 ya. — What has befallen my sturdy boy ? O, what } . 
 Go Era, haste, and bid them all come hither soon. 
 
 \Exit Era.] 
 
 Enter Judah, Benjamin, and the returned brethren. 
 
 yu. — Dear father, the man who is the lord of the land 
 spake roughly to us, supposing us spies of the 
 country. We said we were true men, the sons 
 of one man in the land of Canaan, and the 
 youngest is with the father. And the man said, 
 hereby shall I know that ye are true men and 
 no spies ; leave one of your brethren here with 
 me, take food for your households and begone, 
 and bring your youngest brother to me, and ye 
 shall traffic in the land.
 
 SCRIPTURAL DRAMA. 59 
 
 ya. — '' Me ye have bereaved of my children. Joseph is 
 not, and Simeon is not, and ye will take Benja- 
 min away also; but my son shall not go down, 
 for his brother is dead and he is left alone ; if 
 mischief befall him on the way, then shall ye 
 bring down my grey hairs with sorrow to the 
 grave. All these things are against me." 
 
 R. — My father, slay my two sons if I bring him not to 
 thee ! Deliver him into my hands; I will surely 
 bring him back to thee. 
 
 ya. — Nay, Reuben, the slaying thy two sons would only 
 add grief to griet. My son shall not go down 
 with you. 
 
 k — But, my father, the famine is sore, and we must 
 immediately return, lest the corn in Egypt be 
 exhausted and we all die in the years of famine. 
 
 y a, — Well, go ye all again to Egypt and buy us more 
 food. 
 
 y u. — But, my father, the man did solemnly protest to 
 us : " Ye shall not see my face except your 
 youngest brother be with you." If you will 
 send Benjamin with us then will we go down. 
 
 y a. — Wherefore did you tell the Governor that you had 
 a younger brother ? 
 
 y u. — The man asked us strictly of our state and kindred : 
 " Is your father alive ? Have you another 
 brother ? " We answered him according to 
 the tenor of these words. How could we 
 know that he would say, " Bring your brother 
 down with you." Now, my father, send the 
 lad with me ; I will be surety for him ; and if I
 
 6o SCRIPTURAL DRAMA. 
 
 bring him not unto thee let me bear the blame 
 forever. 
 
 Ben. — Yes, my father, allow me to go with my brethren. 
 I am already pleased with this Governor of 
 Egypt and wish to see his face. I believe he 
 is a good and a holy man. No harm will be- 
 fall me on the way ; I shall return in peace, 
 with the blessing both of Egypt's Governor and 
 Abraham's God upon my head. 
 
 ya. — Go, then, and the blessing of God be with you. 
 Take with you presents, and the money which 
 you found in your sacks — perhaps it was an 
 oversight — and take your brother and go again 
 unto the man. \Exeunt Omnes.] 
 
 Scene 4. — In Egypt, at the house of Joseph. Enter 
 Arvila and Senora. 
 
 Arv. — Senora ! did you know those Hebrew men 
 To Egypt have returned ? 
 
 Sen. — Yes, last eve I heard; and our good master is 
 Much pleased. There's something which we do 
 
 not read 
 In that sealed book. How deeply moved our lord 
 When he in prayer bespeaks his God for that 
 Old man, and his young son, far, far away 
 In Canaan's land. 
 
 Arv. — And more, 
 
 In those requests how oft the tears roll down 
 His cheeks. O, he is good ; his God 
 Will hear his prayers. O, how I wish 
 All our friends here both loved and worshipped 
 Joseph's God ! O, that all Egypt, too, would turn
 
 SCRIPTL'RAL DKAMA. 6i 
 
 From reverence to the crocodile and ox, 
 To bow before Jehovah God. 
 Sfn. — Sucli worship, Villa, taints the soul with sin. 
 But see ! behold the elevating power 
 Of worship true on this whole house ! We now 
 A band of sisters, brothers are, 
 " Where love in one delightful stream 
 Through every action flows, 
 And union sweet and dear esteem 
 In every bosom glows." 
 His earnest, bold, firm faith in God ; his zeal 
 For love, and truth, and right, this change has wrought 
 In all our hearts. Look 1 here are two 
 Of these same Hebrew men. We will retire. 
 
 Enter Is.s.'^char ^/;^/ Zebulon. 
 
 Z — I have been walking this morning upon the banks 
 of this mighty river. What convenience here 
 for seaports and vessels and commerce! It is 
 far before our own land. 
 
 Is — I do not believe we can make money so fast as in 
 our own land, Zeb. I have no faith in your 
 ships and traffic ; it is all nonsense ! 
 
 Z. — Why, Issachar, you seem to have no idea of what 
 may be done upon the great waters. How 
 trade may be extended, nations far apart 
 brought near each other, and commerce car- 
 ried on by ships. 
 
 li. — Well, I'll ride and you may sail, Zeb, but I should 
 like to learn if there are any gold or silver 
 mines in this country ; and, if so, whether they 
 allow strangers to dig in them.
 
 62 SCRIPTURAL DRAMA. 
 
 Z. — Why, have you an idea of staying and digging ? 
 
 Is. — Yes, if there is any chance. I had rather go home 
 with a sack full of silver and gold than corn — 
 you can take corn enough home. 
 
 Z — Why, Issachar, your whole soul is set on wealth ! I 
 pity you that you are so foolish. 
 
 Is. — Well, foolish or not, you and the rest are glad to 
 come to me to borrow when you get short ; but 
 where are our brethren ? This is the place we 
 were to meet. O, here they come. [Etiter 
 the other brethren.^ Have any of you seen 
 Simeon ? 
 
 J. — No; but we saw the prison in which he was con- 
 fined. This is a day of dreadful import to us 
 all. 
 
 Ben. — I have no fear. The Governor will treat us 
 kindly. 
 
 A. — But if he should put us all in prison ! 
 
 Ben. — He will not. The God of our fathers will protect 
 us, and take us safely home. 
 
 Enter Herald, 
 
 H. — The Governor of Egypt is approaching ; you will 
 observe the customs of our country, and, with 
 uncovered heads, bow low as if in the presence 
 of Pharaoh. 
 
 Enter Joseph and Retinue. Brethren bow low. 
 
 y^o. — Peace be unto you ; the God of your fathers give 
 you success. Is your father still alive and well ? 
 J^u. — Our father is in good health ; he is yet alive.
 
 SCRIPTURAL DRAMA. 63 
 
 'yo — Is this the younger brother of whom ye spake? 
 ( The brethren all bow assent.) God be gracious 
 unto thee, my son ; your brother, who remained 
 in Egypt, is released. My steward will see 
 that you all are well attended, and on the mor- 
 row you will all dine with me. After that, you 
 will return with corn for the famine of your 
 houses. [Exeunt 0/nnes.] 
 
 Scene 5. — In Eg)'pt — Joseph sitting in an alcove in the 
 Royal Court — music playing. 
 
 Enter Senora. 
 
 Sen. — My lord, the cup, even the silver cup from which 
 you are wont to drink, cannot be found ! 
 
 yo. — When was it lost ? 
 
 Sen. — It has been missing since the banquet of that fam- 
 ily of Hebrews which you, my lord, was pleased 
 to give them yesterday in your own house. 
 
 yo. — [Speaking to officer of guard.^ Pursue those men 
 and bring them back. 
 
 ( Officer and guards depart, y oseph remains, music 
 
 again resumed.) 
 
 Officer and Guard enter and the 1 1 brethren arrested. 
 
 Off. — The men are arrested, according to your orders. 
 
 yo. — {To the brethren) What deed i.s this ye have done? 
 Wot ye not that such a man as I can certainly 
 divine ? 
 
 yu. — God forbid that thy servants should do this thing. 
 With whomsoever the cup is found let him die, 
 and as for the rest of us, we will be thy bonds- 
 men forever.
 
 64 SCRIPTURAL DRAMA. 
 
 yo. — Let it be according to thy words. {To the Stew- 
 ard^ Search the sacks. 
 
 H. — {All is silence till the Herald steps forward and holds 
 up the cup.') The cup was found in the sack ol 
 Benjamin, the youngest. 
 
 {The brethren all fall upon their knees.) 
 
 yo. — Rise up; stand upon your feet. Your own sen- 
 tence upon yourselves was, " Let the man die 
 in whose hands the cup is found, and the rest 
 shaU be bondsmen forever." Not so severe 
 shall be my sentence upon you. The man in 
 whose hands the cup is found shall be my 
 servant, and as for the rest ot you, get you in 
 peace unto your father. 
 
 yu. — O, my lord, let thy servant, I pray, speak a word 
 in my lord's ears, and let not thine anger burn 
 against thy servant, for thou art even as Pharaoh. 
 My lord asked thy servant, saying, " Have ye 
 a father and a brother ? " And we said unto 
 my lord, " We have a father, an old man, and 
 a child of his old age, and his brother is dead ; 
 and he alone is left of his mother, and his father 
 loveth him." And thou said, " Brmg him down 
 unto me, that I may set my eyes on him." And 
 we said unto my lord, " The lad cannot leave 
 his father, for if he should leave his father, his 
 father would die." And thou said unto thy 
 servant, " Except your youngest brother come 
 down with you, you shall see my face no more." 
 And it came to pass, when we came up unto 
 thy servant, my father, we told him the words
 
 SCRIPTURAL DRAMA. 65 
 
 of my lord, and our father said, " Go again, and 
 buy us a little food." And we said, " We can- 
 not go down ; if our youngest brother be with 
 us, then will we go down, for we may not see 
 the man's lace except our youngest brother be 
 with us." And thy servant, my father, said 
 unto us, " You know that my wife bare me two 
 sons, and the one went out from me, and I said, 
 surely he is torn in pieces, and 1 saw him not 
 since, and if ye take this also from me, and 
 mishap befall him, ye shall bring down my grey 
 hairs with sorrow to the grave." Now, there- 
 fore, when I come to thy servant, my father, 
 and the lad be not with us, seeing his life is 
 bound up in the lad's life, it shall come to pass, 
 when he seeth the lad is not with us, he will 
 die, and thy servants shall bring down the grey 
 hairs of thy servant, our father, with sorrow to 
 tlie grave ; for thy servant became surety for 
 the lad unto my father, saying, if I bring him 
 not unto thee, then shall I bear the blame unto 
 my father forever. Now, therefore, I pray thee, 
 let thy servant instead of the lad become a 
 bondsman unto my lord, and let the lad go up 
 with his brethren. For how shall I go up unto 
 my father and the lad be not with me, lest per- 
 adveiiture I see the evil that sliall come on my 
 father. 
 yo. — Cause every man to go out from me {the Egyptians 
 all go out). " I am Joseph! Does my father 
 yet live ? Come near to inc, I pray you {and 
 they came near). And lie said, 1 am Joseph, 
 3
 
 66 SCRIPTURAL DRAMA. 
 
 your brother, whom you sold into Egypt, Now, 
 therefore, be not grieved nor angry with your- 
 selves that ye sold me, for God did send me 
 before you to preserve your life ; for there are 
 yet five years of famine to come, in which there 
 shall be neither earing nor harvest. Thus, 
 brethren {embracing them severally), God sent 
 me here, to save your lives, by a great deliver- 
 ance, and has made me a ruler throughout all 
 this land. And, behold, your eyes see, and the 
 eyes of my brother Benjamin see, that it is my 
 mouth that speaketh unto you. And now, my 
 brethren, load your beasts and go to the land 
 of Canaan, and you shall tell my father of ail 
 my glory in Egypt, and take your father, and 
 all your household, your wives ^and your little 
 ones, and come unto me here in the land of 
 Egypt, and ye shall eat of the fat of the land. 
 Go, and return in peace. \Exeunt Omnes.\ 
 
 ^lli^ 
 
 w-
 
 SCRIPTURAL DRAMA. 67 
 
 VALEDICTORY TO ILLUSTRATION OF JOSEPH. 
 
 MARCH, 1867 
 
 Dear friends and parents, 'neath whose cheering smile 
 
 We've toiled to please and keep you here awhile, 
 
 Our task is o'er ; and unto me the part 
 
 Has been assigned to speak, with swelling heart, 
 
 To you, who long have watched and wished us well, 
 
 The few brief words ot friendship and farewell. 
 
 O, gently judge us for all deeds amiss, 
 
 Forget our faults, and but remember this : 
 
 That all our acts, however ill exprest, 
 
 Were well intended, and, we hope, are blest. 
 
 This meed, indeed, it was our wish to gain, 
 
 Your kind applause; and have we hoped in vain ? 
 
 Methinks, while gazing on each smiling face, 
 
 The hoped for verdict I can plainly trace. 
 
 Another thought has thrilled us while we trod 
 
 This scenic ground — the praise, the smile of God, 
 
 His powers, His glory, ages long ago, 
 
 His servants, false and faithful ; and the slow 
 
 But certain retribution, surely given, 
 
 Which follows in the counsels of high heaven. 
 
 These, with your smiles, all treasured shall be kept ; 
 
 And for such meed, O friends, our thanks accept.
 
 68 SCRIPTURAL DRAMA. 
 
 These thoughts shall cheer us on some future day, 
 
 When o'er the past our memory's feet shall stray, 
 
 And we, recalling from its treasures dear. 
 
 Will bless the friends who saw us gather here. 
 
 We'll strive to act our parts in life as true 
 
 As Jacob's lovely son. We hope from you 
 
 A bright example o'er life's track may shine, 
 
 To lead us onward in the path divine. 
 
 May gentle flowers bloom lightly where we tread. 
 
 And joy's pure halo circle o'er each head; 
 
 Life's thorns be hidden in the desert sand, 
 
 And not one footstep tread that desert land ; 
 
 But all glide onward till life's toils are past, 
 
 All meet together at one shrine at last, 
 
 There, midst the songs from million hearts that swell, 
 
 We'll breathe no more that bitter word, "Farewell." 

 
 Miseellapxeous Poems. 
 
 EARLY AND LATER CLOUDS. 
 
 I've viewed the opening scenes of life, 
 
 When hope's fair rising sun 
 Shone brightly over childhood's path, 
 
 E'er sorrow had begun : 
 I've seen glad, youthful, happy feet 
 
 Along this pathway sped. 
 Encircled by domestic love. 
 
 By genial spirits led ; 
 I've marked the gloom which sin's dark stain 
 
 Shed o'er that radiant way, 
 I've heard the sigh, the sob, the moan 
 
 As virtue fled away ! 
 I've seen the clouds, still darker roll 
 
 By sin's dark withering blight 
 Until the sun, which rose so fair. 
 
 Sunk down in endless night. 
 
 YOU ARE ON LIFE'S WAY. 
 
 Linger, my boy, as you journey along, 
 And mark wiih care the bustling throng ; 
 Be careful to cause not a throb of pain. 
 For you never will pass this way again — 
 You are on Life's way.
 
 70 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 Hush, my boy, those words of scorn ! 
 See ! a tear is moist'ning that cheek forlorn ; 
 Speak words of encouragement, not of disdain, 
 For you never will pass this way again — 
 You are on Life's way. 
 
 Stop, my boy, that passionate frown, 
 'Tis felt by your mates, at school or in town ; 
 A smile of love will the truth explain, 
 For you will never pass this way again — 
 You are on Life's way. 
 
 Hark, my boy ! Those thunder peals ! 
 Life's dangers and struggles your track reveals ; 
 Support that weak one, trembling in vain. 
 For you never will pass this way again — 
 You are on Life's way. 
 
 See that flash, my boy ! 'Tis life's lightning blast— 
 The lofty and lowly are bowed, overcast ; 
 Smile with them in joy, weep with them in pain, 
 For you never will pass this way again — 
 You are on Life's way. 
 
 List, my boy, to that angel chime 
 As it floats o'er the clouds in yon sun-lit chme ; 
 " Never or now " is the sweet refrain. 
 For you never will pass this way again — 
 You are on Life's way.
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 71 
 
 THE MISSISSIPPL 
 
 Bold River ! urge thy dark, resistless course, 
 
 By day, by night ; flow on, 'tis well. 
 Thy might, thy strength, thy wild, untiring force, 
 
 Support, sustain, administer; dispel 
 The dangers, e'en the very perils wild 
 
 Which threaten thy broad vale. 
 Thou mightiest mountain child ! 
 
 Thy footsteps I have seen upon the dark 
 
 Tall mountain's brow, frowning upon 
 The Moon ; then, mingling with the meadow lark. 
 
 Thy rippling carol swift, then soon 
 I heard, I felt, a trembling rush — and lo ! 
 
 Thy waters leaped with mighty roar 
 Into the vale below. 
 
 THE CROSS, THE HOPE OF THE SOUL. 
 
 Lift on high the sign of a Savior's love, 
 
 Let its arms extend on high, 
 And gather around all hearts, resolved 
 
 To sustain it there or die — 
 An emblem of peace and hope to the world ; 
 
 O, haste and your names enroll. 
 And proclaim to a world immersed in sin, 
 
 The cross is the hope of the soul ! 
 
 That symbol proclaims to the list'ning earth 
 
 That the reign of the tyrant is o'er, 
 That the g .lling chains of the monster sin 
 
 Shall enslave mankind no more. 
 An emblem of hope to the poor and lost, 
 
 O raise it in sight of the whole ! 
 And say with glad voice to the galh'ring throng, 
 
 The cross is the hope of the soul !
 
 72 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 Then on high let the cross of Jesus stand — 
 
 Its saving power repeat, 
 Till every sad repentant heart 
 
 Shall bow at Jesus' feet. 
 And never, O never, be it removed 
 
 Until seen from pole to pole, 
 And a world redeemed shall raise the shout 
 
 " The cross is the hope of the soul ! " 
 
 THE CORNET. 
 I love to hear the gay Cornet, 
 
 Touched by a skillful hand, 
 I love its flowing harmony 
 
 When mingling in the band — 
 Its mellow notes, so soft and clear ; 
 
 Hark ! hark ! they're sounding now ! 
 How they echo afar on the evening breeze, 
 
 On the lofty mountain's brow ! 
 
 How they thrill the soul as the azure vault 
 
 Its echoes still prolong ; 
 And the air is filled with the varying tones 
 
 Commingling with the song ! 
 It sounds again ; up, up on high — 
 
 It seems to ascend above. 
 On the wings of Faith, towards the bright blue sky, 
 
 To the home of Music and Love. 
 
 The Lyre and the Harp, so famed of old, 
 
 By the bard in song divine, 
 Have justly received their meed of praise 
 
 In the vales of Palestine; 
 But the gay Cornet, how its music floats 
 
 O'er the hills and among the trees ! 
 Be silent, O Earth ! as its mellow notes 
 
 Die away on the evening breeze.
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 73 
 
 MY FIRST PAIR OF BOOTS. 
 
 Ah ! who shall sing the praise of the pair 
 
 Which secured my feet from the frosty air ? 
 
 Others may write of the fancy-ribbed skirt, 
 
 Hood may sing " The Song of the Shirt," 
 
 Be it mine, as fancy in sport wreaths shoots, 
 
 To sing of the trials and pleasures of boots. 
 
 Boots ! aye boots ! I remember the time, 
 
 When, a small boy, I lived in a cold, frosty clime ; 
 
 When my toes red and chilled, my feet wet and sad, 
 
 When but six years* or less, I crept close to my dad ; 
 
 He hugs his wee boy as the fire he recruits. 
 
 Saying, " Richard must have a pair of new boots." 
 
 Oh, the thrill of those words ! I heard them, it seems. 
 
 That whole livelong night, or awake, or in dreams. 
 
 Ah ! yes, I looked round, I raised up my head 
 
 To look at my sire from my low trundle bed ; 
 
 And there in the moonlight, with shadows cast o'er. 
 
 He never appeared half so lovely before. 
 
 The beams of the morning were never so bright 
 
 As they fell o'er the hill-tops succeeding that night ; 
 
 The frost seemed to glitter, the landscape to cheer. 
 
 The buckwheats were sweeter, the coffee more clear. 
 
 The butter more golden — ay, butter ! for then 
 
 Children ate butter as if they were men. 
 
 Strange that they lived 'mid such killing mistakes 
 
 As to spread golden butter on steaming hot cakes ; 
 
 But / did, I assure you — my story well suits ; 
 
 After breakfast we started away for the boots. 
 
 'Twas a mile from my father's, if right I opine, 
 
 'A boy of six in IkkjIs was a wonder 72 years ago.
 
 74 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 Our old shoemaker flourished his wax and his twine, 
 And O ! the emotions exukant with pride, 
 As I set my right foot the door casement beside ; 
 Yes, I manfully rose and kicked off my old shoe, 
 Some afraid that old Crispin would cut my big toe ; 
 As he stuck in the floor his long, sharp-pomted blade 
 I just felt the touch which the instrument made. 
 We straight left the cottage, the woodlands among, 
 Where " Old Kit " sung and whistled, and whistled and 
 
 sung; 
 But my heart, it was saddened beyond all disputes, 
 Two weeks must elapse ere I go for my boots. 
 
 those weeks ! have you ever in agony dreamed ? 
 A little eternity surely it seemed ; 
 
 But I lived the whole fourteen — 'twas my happy lot 
 And that day, ten o'clock, found me there on the spot. 
 My boots, sir ? Your boots ! Aye, " Old Crispin " replied, 
 " They are now on the clamps, they soon will be dried.' 
 Be dried ? arn't they done, sir ? They are not, I fear. 
 
 1 tried to be brave, but out came a tear. 
 So home I returned, in anger and sorrow. 
 Assured of my boots the day after to-morrow. 
 I waited — felt manly — was firm as a rock — 
 
 I had better not start, till about 2 o'clock 
 My mother suggested ; I pondered it o'er — 
 *T would look rather boyish to start off before. 
 As near to the house of " Old Crispin " I drew 
 My steps faltered slightly, my heart fluttered, too ; 
 Sometimes I walked slow, then attempted to run — 
 O, what if my boots, my new boots, were not done ! 
 I soon stood before him ! " Your boots," he replied, 
 *'■ Are still on the clamps." " I've a stitch in my side;"
 
 MISCELLANLOUS POEMS. 75 
 
 Then he smiled very silly, a tune tried to hum ; 
 
 His side-stitches all came from cider and rum. 
 
 I turned on my heel, I went out at the door, 
 
 I sat down on a log and indulged in a roar; 
 
 Soon I dried up in anger — arose from the log — 
 
 I muttered out, '• liar ! " — " a drunken old dog ! " 
 
 " I'll haunt you " — " no quiet shall visit you more," 
 
 And two weeks almost daily I stood at his door. 
 
 Some strange disappointments our lives intersect; 
 
 Some unlooked-for events make the thoughtless reflect, 
 
 As out of the order of cause and effect. 
 
 One eve as I called to repeat the same quest, 
 
 " Boots done ?" No ! the answer was curtly expressed ; 
 
 So with no disappointment, or any delay. 
 
 And cheerful in sadness, I turned me away. 
 
 Next morn as at breakfast we gathered with care. 
 
 The latchet was lifted, " Old Crispin " stood there 
 
 Large as life — he stood still, looked me full in the eye 
 
 As he held up the boots ; I gave a faint cry — 
 
 Not a cry of despair, nor of anger a gleam, 
 
 But of sweet disappointment, a happified scream. 
 
 I sprang from the table, forgetting all care, 
 
 Upset my hot coffee, turned over my chair ; 
 
 The family smiled in the midst of the breeze, 
 
 And soon I was cased up in boots to my knees. 
 
 I walked in the house, 1 walked out in the street. 
 
 And with man-measured dignity looked towards my feet ; 
 
 Ah ! boys will be foolish, deny it who can. 
 
 For it seemed I was suddenly changed to a man — 
 
 In my own estimation — but hark! a recall, 
 
 My mother's sweet voice sounded out from the hall, 
 
 " Come, finish your breakfast ! " My breakfast, indeed !
 
 76 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 I jumped, kicked up high, and ran ofif at full speed. 
 
 Ah ! who can imagine the joy of that morn. 
 
 When from hope my enjoyment was suddenly born, 
 
 The sweet magic of " Boots," my full boyhood's desire, 
 
 Which protected my feet from the mud and the mire ; 
 
 In joyful abstraction, I wandered alone 
 
 For the space of three hours, then came back to my home. 
 
 Alone ! yes, indeed ; there is sometimes a joy 
 
 When society only affords an alloy : 
 
 Alone ! yes — why not ? for true wisdom may ask, 
 
 " Is virtue, true virtue, society's task ? 
 
 Or not rather the glen and the mountain-top's child 
 
 Where nature in silence has wrestled and smiled ? 
 
 There the great and the good often-tiraes have been 
 
 trained 
 And there have the Moore's and the Wordsworth's 
 
 mam tain ed 
 A converse with nature, a conquest o'er life, 
 Which has aided the world in humanity's strife." 
 But stop ! I have almost forgotten my theme 
 In the earnest excuse of my wandering dream. 
 But now I must mingle in life as I can. 
 What will other folks think me, a boy or a man ? 
 My schoolmates all wrestle, play, study in shoes ; 
 Shall I mingle with them, or shall I refuse ? 
 Poh ! what nonsense my visions decoy ! 
 'Tis plain, I am Richard, the same little boy : 
 Then Richard I'll live, by the same honest rule, 
 Determined my boots shall not make me a fool ! 
 Thus musing, came back to the home of my joy, 
 A wiser, more dignified, manlier boy. 
 I have since often pondered in all my pursuits
 
 MISCELLANICOUS POEMS. 77 
 
 My sore disappointment in getting my boots. 
 
 I believe, and with reason, that month of suspense 
 
 Was a lesson of wisdom, of manhood's defense. 
 
 Thus I learned in my childhood, as bootless for strife, 
 
 Vain hopes often please in the foreground of life, 
 
 While time's flying moments in memory's fond haste 
 
 Tread trackless the sands of life's earliest waste, 
 
 Yet they deeply engrave with the chisel of Fate 
 
 Whatever they stamp, with its love or its hate. 
 
 The drunkard I pity — nay, almost despise, 
 
 Tnose side-stitches, hiccoughs and shoe-maker's lies, 
 
 And to this very moment my spirit is stirred 
 
 By the men or the women who forfeit their word. 
 
 And a voice oft addressed me, as through the lone wild 
 
 I followed that foot-path — " Be patient, my child ! " 
 
 " Life's scenes are before you — each earthly career 
 
 Will be mingled with sorrow, be saddened with fear, 
 
 And as higher you climb in the sunlight of day 
 
 Use wisely the light that may fall on your way." 
 
 And erst in my boyhood, by thought over-cast 
 
 As I looked at my feet and remembered the past, 
 
 I had learned a great truth, deny it who can, 
 
 Though a man can make bootSy never boots made a tnan. 
 
 SUCKER BOY. 
 
 1 wish this evening, e'er I go. 
 Five minutes to employ 
 
 In hearing how you will advise 
 .\ lillle Sucker Boy.
 
 ^S MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 You see I'm young, so once were you ; 
 
 ! help me if you can : 
 
 My soul aspires to right, to truth — 
 
 1 want to be a man. 
 
 Not big — that isn't what I mean — 
 
 Nor yet possessed of riches ; 
 Men are not made, my mother says, 
 
 By wearing coats and breeches. 
 
 I stood across the street, forsooth, 
 
 Near a fine whisky den ; 
 Some twelve big six foot chaps came out — 
 
 Tell me, were these all men ? 
 
 Some cursed, some smoked, I guess some chewed, 
 
 Their jaws went fast and clever ; 
 Shall I become a man like them ? 
 
 O never, never, never ! 
 
 • I'd rather be a little boy 
 
 My whole, whole life-time through 
 Than drink and smoke, and swear like them — 
 Say, friends ! say, should not you ? 
 
 I said I wished to be a man. 
 
 Free, free, from folly's blight, 
 From drink — from lies — from v/rong — from sin — 
 
 Say, are my notions right ? 
 
 DEDICATION HYMN. 
 
 Jehovah spake — a temple stood — 
 The monumental power of God ! 
 Its arch in Astral beauty bright. 
 And curtained by the morning light.
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 79 
 
 Its pillars reared — the mountains stand — 
 The sea outspread — the solid land — 
 The plain — the forest at his word, 
 Bedeck this temple of the Lord. 
 
 Nature awoke in vocal praise ; 
 Earth, seas and skies, their paeans raise : 
 Glory to God, on Earth good will ! 
 Echo along from hill to hill. 
 
 Lord, we would join this general theme. 
 Here meet thy saints — their souls redeem. 
 Here bid the dying sinner live ; 
 For Jesus' sake his sins forgive. 
 
 Here, Heavenly King, record thy name ! 
 Thy mercies show — thy love proclaim : 
 Accept this off 'ring — let it be 
 Thy dwelling place, from error free. 
 
 And when we fall in silent death, 
 And yield to thee our vital breath. 
 Still may our children here proclaim 
 The glories of our Savior's name. 
 
 MY CAT. 
 (Written wlien llic author was eleven years old.) 
 
 I have a cat, I'll warrant that, 
 She IS both black and white ; 
 
 And puss is good to search the wood 
 At mid-tlay or at night.
 
 8o 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 Silent and still, as glides the rill 
 
 In shadowy moonlight ray, 
 The Rabbit wild, as a playful child, 
 
 Becomes her easy prey. 
 
 And yet to me she seems to be 
 
 So gentle, full of love ; 
 How can that look, that purr, that mew, 
 
 So bloody, cruel prove ? 
 
 A PUZZLE. 
 
 The first and last words of each line of this little Poem, mingled 
 together alphabetically as italicised, were sent to the author of this 
 work, asking him to put them in descriptive poetry upon any subject 
 to which they could be applied. He complied with the request. 
 Original between the black perpendicular lines. 
 
 And, bogs, deceive, flood, find, in, or, snake, thou, thou, with, 
 with, and, crushed, eve, field, for, in, paradise, skin, that, take, 
 when, woods, and, dust, eyes, frogs, hast, mankind, since, sin, to, 
 when, why, yield. 
 
 Thou 
 
 That 
 
 When 
 
 Or 
 
 And 
 
 When 
 
 In 
 
 To 
 
 With 
 
 And 
 
 Thou 
 
 In 
 
 For 
 
 And 
 
 Why 
 
 With 
 
 Since 
 
 Hast 
 
 hated form, yclept a 
 form thou wast compelled to 
 ranging o'er the watery 
 in the groves, or in the 
 winding through the verdant 
 first the clouds their moisture 
 quest of food among the 
 feed upon the slimy 
 serpent eye and mottled 
 thought intend on mortal 
 cans't not now, as once 
 Eden's bower our mother 
 all her girls have clearer 
 mourn the joys of 
 reptile, hiss ! their hopes you 
 demon's foot into the 
 then, O Serpent ! thou we 
 been the dread ot all 
 
 snake, 
 
 take, 
 
 floods, 
 
 woods, 
 
 field, 
 
 yield, 
 
 bogs, 
 
 frogs ; 
 
 skin, 
 
 sin; 
 
 deceive, 
 
 Eve, 
 
 eyes. 
 
 Paradise. 
 
 crushed 
 
 dust. 
 
 find 
 
 mankind.
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 81 
 
 THE HOME OF A WEEK. 
 
 My thoughts take their flight to my home far away 
 As the time fast approaches in which I shall say : 
 " Farewell, my dear friends," a word painful to speak, 
 As I take a farewell of " the home of a week." 
 
 I here have been blest with society kind. 
 Of free interchange of mind mingling with mind ; 
 The wisdom of age with youth, gentle and meek, 
 As my time passed away in the home of a week. 
 
 Nor less has the prime and the vigor of mind, 
 Inspired by devotion confiding and kind. 
 Served to lessen my cares, nor compelled me to seek 
 Social converse away from the home of a week. 
 
 Farewell ! dearest friends, I arise to depart, 
 With your smiles of affection enstamped on my heart. 
 I muse, while the tear drop still moistens the cheek. 
 Shall I not be forgot in the home of a week ? 
 
 ACROSTIC TO CALISTA WEBSTER. 
 
 Chance drops a flowret here and there 
 
 Along the path of youth, 
 Lifts high the clouds of radiant hope 
 
 Illumed with tints of truth. 
 Soon the flowret's bloom is sere, 
 
 Trace of cloud no more is seen. 
 All is desolate and drear. 
 
 Well, let these transient joys depart, 
 Entomb'd within the world's dark heart, 
 
 Ik'neath oblivion's shade. 
 6
 
 82 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 Still brighter flowers shall bloom along 
 The path of truth which Jesus trod, 
 
 Encircling virtue's throng, till they 
 Return by faith to God. 
 
 FAREWELL TO NELLIE. 
 
 Farewell, dear Nellie, I shall seem 
 To hear your voice in fancy's dream ; 
 Shall miss at your home those sunny smiles. 
 When converse sweet the hours beguiles ; 
 And the pouting lip (I so much approve), 
 Half in anger and half in love — 
 Yes, these will soon all flit away, 
 But remembrance of Nellie, will ever stay ! 
 Go ! then, dear friend, 'hrough all your life 
 Prove a kind, a gentle, a loving wife ; 
 Above all things else, to Jesus cleave. 
 Who has said to all "repent, believe." 
 Once more farewell, and when you muse 
 On the past, as you these lines peruse ; 
 Among your friends whom you love and bless, 
 Number the writer, R. C. S. 
 
 TRUE NOBILITY. 
 
 (Written in an Album.) 
 
 If love and truth, grand pillars of the soul. 
 Through life's extent your inmost thoughts control. 
 Then happiness, which all from duty springs, 
 As soars the bird aloft on airy wings,
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 83 
 
 Nor stops its flight where space the ether bounds, 
 
 But moves right onward, through the depths profound. 
 
 Shall be the guerdon which shall bless your life 
 
 And guard your spirit in a world of strife. 
 
 What matter though no " coats of arms " adorn, 
 
 Which mark the escutcheon of the noble born ? 
 
 The stamped noblesse of Heaven, more nobly thrive 
 
 In humble hearts, to love and truth alive. 
 
 Without these principles in virtue's train 
 
 Life sinks in vanity — you live in vain ; 
 
 All other hopes deceive — a worthless trace, 
 
 Like "wind-raised dust which whistles in your face." 
 
 Live then by holy principle — above 
 
 All low-born joys, sustained by Truth and Love. 
 
 HYMN SUNG AT A PICNIC. 
 
 A friendly group have gathered round 
 
 Within this shady bower, 
 To raise the shout of gladness here 
 
 To consecrate this hour ; 
 
 To join in sports of innocence 
 
 Their cheerful voices raise ; 
 To offer in this House of God 
 
 Their Sacrifice of Praise. 
 
 This House of God ! How vast ! How high! 
 
 Its dome the bending Heaven ; 
 Its curtains waving o'er our heads 
 
 Stirred by the breath of Even.
 
 84 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 Look up! this is your Father's House, 
 These beauties prove his love ; 
 
 Whose sign of Truth is in the heart 
 And his reward above. 
 
 POEM WRITTEN ON THE DEATH OF 
 OSTRANDO PHILLIPS. 
 
 (When the author was fourteen years old.) 
 
 Alas ! a solemn sound around has sped, 
 
 Ostrando's gone and numbered with the dead. 
 
 A few days since was in full health and bloom. 
 
 But now, alas ! sent headlong to the tomb. 
 
 Some time ago a lot he bought, we hear, 
 
 And soon a dwelling house began to rear; 
 
 To work he went, the sturdy teams to guide, 
 
 For life's arising wants then to provide. 
 
 How oft the rising sun in beauty shines 
 
 On youth's bright hopes! But e'er the day declines 
 
 Winds blow — clouds rush — the thunder rolls, 
 
 And sadness, darkness, death, the day controls ! 
 
 So closed the darkness in — forever closed 
 
 On those bright hopes. The day's decline disclosed 
 
 Life by the falling timbers gone. The breath. 
 
 The soul passed to the spirit-world in death. 
 
 You weep, dear friends ; but listen while you sigh 
 
 For that kind voice which says, " You shall not die " 
 
 " If you believe in me." Look up! receive 
 
 The blessings given to all who will believe. 
 
 In Faith behold the resurrection day. 
 
 When bone shall fly to bone, and clay to clay,* 
 
 *This idea was common in those days. I have since heard, 
 " there is a natural body, and there is a spiritual body."
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 85 
 
 And murmur not at judgments sent from God. 
 Behold, a Father's hand still guides the rod. 
 Brothers and sisters, kindred, one and all. 
 For him your tears in sorrow deep did fall ; 
 His death, indeed, was shocking and severe — 
 A warning take, the great Jehovah fear. 
 Let every person, young and old, who hears 
 This youth's unhappy fate, just drop a tear. 
 The ways of God are intricate and strange, 
 Then be prepared to meet your final change. 
 
 ORIGINAL SONG. 
 
 Sung by .Mary Stark, a child of tliree years, at the Concert of the 
 Piscataquog Sabbath School, in Manchester, N. H., 1855. 
 
 Good evening, friends, you see I'm young, 
 
 Just started on life's journey — 
 A little one of three years old — 
 
 So pardon every turn I 
 Shall make, from song both sweet and true 
 
 Within my bosom swelling. 
 And bear my infant off'ring home 
 
 To every humble dwelling. 
 
 My mother says, the Savior dear, 
 
 With heavenly love caressing. 
 Such little ones as I took up 
 
 And gave to them his blessing ; 
 And I do pray- with infant lips, 
 
 When earthly ties are riven. 
 An Angel bright, I may go up 
 
 To Jesus and to Heaven.
 
 MISSION-BRIDE 
 
 AN EPIC POEM. 
 
 PART I . 
 
 "Nature hath assigned 
 Two sovereign remedies for human grief — 
 Religion, surest, firmest, first and best, 
 Strength to the weak, and to the wounded balm ; 
 And strenuous action next." — Southey. 
 
 New England! Housatonic! Your green hills, 
 Your clover-vales and pond-supported rills, 
 Your solemn church-yards and your noble shades, 
 And spires that rise from fertile flowery glades, 
 Your vine-wreathed homes and monuments ot mind, 
 How sacred are the memories round them twined ! 
 Thy name was given thee by a race that now 
 On western prairies wield the scythe and plow, 
 Where wild Missouri's dusky flood maintains 
 A wavering course through bluffs and fertile plains, 
 Their dark forefathers on thy borders stood 
 And once baptized thee in thine own clear flood ! 
 Decrees of Providence, not wands of Fate, 
 Have scattered these to make the land more great ; 
 And now the wise, the cultured, ay, the free, 
 New England ! live and love, and grow, in thee !
 
 MISSION BRIDE. 87 
 
 Upon the Mississippi's heaving tide, 
 
 Where bold De Soto stood in wondering pride, 
 
 My eyes intentive bend their pensive gaze, 
 
 Where at my feet, now bathed in sunset rays, 
 
 A low neglected mound with tablet rude 
 
 Gives whisper sad amid the solitude. 
 
 Therein I read the story of a life 
 
 Whose very episodes were strangely rife 
 
 With sorrow, love, and holy joy combined 
 
 Displayed within a consecrated mind. 
 
 A bright May morning many years ago, 
 
 Near Housatonic's mild meandering flow, 
 
 Within a quiet vale by mountains crowned — 
 
 An emerald gem by graceful distance bound ; 
 
 Where violets bloomed among the meadow grass, 
 
 And cow-slips scarce would let the sunbeams pass ; 
 
 Where flowed a brook's perpetual laughing tide, 
 
 And gemmed with spray the daisies by its side ; 
 
 Within an humble home, a cottage rude. 
 
 With sanded oaken floors, of carpets nude. 
 
 An infant girl on youthful parents smiled — 
 
 An early hope, a consecrated child — 
 
 Another self to guide in virtue's ways, 
 
 A soul to tune for Heaven's immortal lays ! 
 
 Like streams unprisoned moving swift and strong, 
 
 Anticipations came with hope and song 
 
 Of joys that swell the future's smiling train, 
 
 Commissioned with a balm for every pain. 
 
 " Irene," a " winsome bairn," her father's knee 
 
 Began to climb and laugh in bird-like glee ; 
 
 Affection purer, sweeter, never clung 
 
 To stronger hearts, like viney tendrils hung
 
 88 EPIC POEM. 
 
 In wild-wood bowers; her tearful eyes of blue, 
 
 Mimosa like, from look severe withdrew ; 
 
 Her presence gave a gentle joy, akin 
 
 To such as spirits feel unknown to sin ; 
 
 But Earth ne'er offers bliss so full; .the draught 
 
 May not in dreams illusive still be quaffed ! 
 
 Irene grew up— an only, hopeful child. 
 
 And each new year with richer promise smiled. 
 
 No brother roved with her in sprightly mien, 
 
 Through wild-wood shades and sunny-pastures green ; 
 
 No sister wove of blossoms white and rare 
 
 A crown to bind her flowing auburn hair; 
 
 Yet she was happy, artless, pure and free — 
 
 A bud! a singing bird ! a wandering bee ! 
 
 She knew the homes of all the vernal flowers, 
 
 And sought them early in the freshening hours 
 
 That followed Winter's chilling vanquished reign, 
 
 Before the grasses clothed the Earth again. 
 
 When May advanced with royal robes and sheen, 
 And Earth re-smiled in garniture of green, 
 The wild-rose on the hill its blossoms gave. 
 And hawthorn, white as foams the ocean wave, 
 Irene arranged in wreaths, while fancies sweet 
 Assumed the hue of petals at her feet. 
 Many a lovely garland thus she wove 
 For her whom Nature taught a daughter's love ; 
 Of leaves — her childhood's laurels — too she twined 
 Fair wreaths, around her father's hat to bind. 
 
 She was a friend to every breathing thing ; 
 The tiniest life, the bird of song and wing,
 
 MISSION BRIDE. 89 
 
 And humming insects; e'en the reptile's form 
 The maiden's conscious heart would never harm ; 
 And in the pastures, all the herd would raise 
 Their heads, and bow in signal of their praise. 
 'Twas thus she grew and lived, a thoughtful girl. 
 With step of grace, and lip of noble curl, 
 And gentle, dreaming eye — 
 
 An ideal sense 
 Of something faultless — Eden's fair defense ; 
 A creature made for love, for grief, for sin. 
 Is womanhood so frail, and yet within, 
 A tenderness complete with strength ? 
 
 The wake 
 Of passing storms, and thunder surges break 
 And shatter oaks grim centuries have bred, 
 And leave them vanquished, proud old monarchs dead ! 
 So man's high soul may fall, denied the power 
 Existing in a gentle, bending flower ! 
 
 The Flower of green Glendale, the fair Irene, 
 Was now in perfect bloom— of blooms the Queen ! 
 Who does not know how girlhood weaves its dreams, 
 How pure the future's pictured pleasure seems ! 
 Her active mind becoming more mature. 
 Love's sweet mysterious desires allure ; 
 To her young life they're like a cymar vail. 
 Beneath which shadowing doubts and fears prevail. 
 When sunset told the recreative hour, 
 And richer odors left the leaf and flower. 
 More oft she sought her favorite seat and bower ; 
 Her mother's watchful heart began to miss 
 Her long companionship and frecjuent kiss,
 
 90 EPIC POEM. 
 
 When day was gone, 'ere gentle sleep consigned 
 To rest her wearied torm and grateful mind ; 
 The cadences of childhood sank away, 
 But followed youth's more ardent, pensive lay, 
 And reaching on its highest number sought 
 More melody in elevated thought. 
 
 Of other days — of years and seasons flown, 
 The mother often spake in trembling tone ; 
 As hoped-for letters from old Scotland's shore. 
 Long intervals between were pondered o'er, 
 And warm and fast her mother's tear-drops fell. 
 The child would sigh, for what she could not tell ; 
 But now she made her listening daughter know 
 Their unblest fated love, and youthful woe. 
 
 Young Agnes Ramsey, daughter of the swain. 
 Was loved by Robert, heir of proud Glenwayn ; 
 Her fair sweet brow and curling lip of rose. 
 And gentle heart, the only dower he chose ; 
 He knew full well his father's scornful ire 
 He long must brook for such perverse desire ; 
 But with the strong resolve of love and truth. 
 The pure tenacity ol glowing youth. 
 He chose with her to live in foreign lands 
 Doubly united by connubial bands ; 
 Content and portionless with her to live. 
 To learn the sweet contentment toil can give. 
 
 One brother's heart for Robert ever yearned, 
 His letters with fraternal fervor burned. 
 Witness, ye faithless, love's enduring ties, 
 A bond of strength which lapse of years defies!
 
 MISSION BRIDE. 91 
 
 Why kindles fair Irene's expectant een 
 
 To brighter flash each silken fringe between, 
 
 While laughter curls her pretty lip with joy 
 
 By tidings of a distant cousin-boy, 
 
 Ere yet the speeding careless years have flown, 
 
 And woman's grace appears for childhood gone ? 
 
 As ripples rise upon the silent sea, 
 
 When moving airs embrace it from the lea, 
 
 Did wavelets of her gentle being move 
 
 To rising hopes, to pure unconscious love ; 
 
 While dimples played upon her flushing cheek, 
 
 And glad relief unbashful words would seek. 
 
 Young " cousin Oscar '" in the pictured halls, 
 
 Or 'round the quaint and ancient ivied walls, 
 
 On smooth green lawns, through noble parks and bloom, 
 
 Conservatories screened, his lordly home, 
 
 Wou!d dance, and play, and pipe, and joyful sing, 
 
 Careless as bee or bird upon the wmg, 
 
 To chase a newly-pinioned butterfly ; 
 
 Or gather blue-bells, blue as summer sky, 
 
 Afar across the dim or purple moor. 
 
 He sported ; or to cheer the honest poor 
 
 He paused to smile before each humble door. 
 
 And this was Oscar's childhood ; now behold 
 
 The man mature, with generous impulse bold. 
 
 The transcript form of Health ! His beaming face 
 
 Of Grecian mould, devoid of darkening trace. 
 
 Of low desire, of unblest life, content 
 
 With virtue's sterling promise, early lent. 
 
 He too, from childhood's light-increasing dawn. 
 
 Knew of a lovely cousin foreign born;
 
 ^2 EPIC POEM. 
 
 And later of her ripening beauty heard, 
 Her father's letters strange his bosom stirred ! 
 
 Like spider's silken net with victim caught, 
 
 Is love that risks so much, yet fears for nought ; 
 
 Wild tenant of the open breast of youth, 
 
 Whose bright conceptive fancy plays with truth ! 
 
 Our hero longs to see that cousin's face ; 
 
 It has to him the sweet imagined grace, 
 
 Retirement and a simple life ensures, 
 
 Released from chains society endures. 
 
 He longs to see Columbia's rising shore. 
 
 Whose story time repeats so proudly o'er ! 
 
 The empire child of England's regime old, 
 
 Whose fugitives for freedom grew so bold. 
 
 His father's parting benediction said. 
 
 His mother's kiss received with lingering dread 
 
 Of visioned evil, and the younger band 
 
 Of wistful sisters clinging to his hand, 
 
 Until he bends each darling to embrace. 
 
 While roll the tear-drops down his gentle face, 
 
 With half repenting thought, he breaks away • 
 
 As evening shades close in the vernal day. 
 
 At length on England's stormy western strand 
 
 A bark lies moored, and bound for foreign land, 
 
 Unfurling, as she rolls upon the sea. 
 
 Banners prophetic — floating for the free ! 
 
 In this our Oscar stands in haste to brave, 
 
 In hope, the dangers of Atlantic's wave. 
 
 While breaks the spray around the dashing prow, 
 
 Behold him silent o'er the gunwale bow ; 
 
 Do dreams of future glory fill his brain ? 
 
 Does thought admonish love's approaching pain ?
 
 MISSION RRIDE. 95 
 
 Or mourns he still the solemn parting hour, 
 
 In consciousness of love's parental dower ? 
 
 Now leave him to his reveries, while the ship 
 
 Is bounding forward with majestic dip ; 
 
 Soon breezy days and nights of moon-light bloom 
 
 Shall waft him far from Scotland, friends and home. 
 
 Oscar's young breast with high emotion swells, 
 
 As chart and quadrant to the voyager tells 
 
 The near approach to that ambitious port 
 
 Whose starry tlags with heaven's high breezes sport. 
 
 " Columbia true ! I own thy righteous pride, 
 
 Thy noble right to emigration's tide ! 
 
 Thou green-earth bosom — nurse for honest toil. 
 
 The people's sovereignty ! the tyrant's foil ! 
 
 But Scotia ! thou, by bards immortal made ; 
 
 Thy streams, thy glens, thy crags, thy mountain glade, 
 
 Enwrap the soul in awe, if seen or sung ; 
 
 Thy Scott, thy Burns, has dwelt on every tongue! 
 
 Children of admiration's glowing throng ! 
 
 My native land ! their lives to thee belong ! " 
 
 But now the dazzling domes and towering walls 
 
 Toward which the bark is bent, from reverie calls 
 
 Our wanderer's lively sense, to surges blue. 
 
 To foam-capped waters, he repeats, " adieu ; " 
 
 Before him gleams a pallisade of mast — 
 
 The faithful prow is by the wharf at last. 
 
 The anchor cast, the weary sails are furled, 
 
 Upon the border of the Western World ! 
 
 He steps upon the firm, unrivalled shores 
 
 That foster freedom's growing strength, and pours 
 
 Impulsive incense from a t^reateful heart,
 
 94 EPIC POEM. 
 
 That beats with pulse of nature, love'and art. 
 
 Scarce time the stranger city to survey, 
 
 He speeds upon his love-directed way ; 
 
 A mild new New England June — a sun of gold, 
 
 Lilac and rose, and snow-ball blooms unfold ; 
 
 He thinks the vales, green-footstools of the hills. 
 
 As fair as aught whereon the dew distils ; 
 
 Their pine-crowned summits e'en as near to heaven 
 
 As barren crags Loch Lomond's storms have riven ! 
 
 Each peaceful habitation claims his view, 
 
 Each village spire, with admiration new ; 
 
 •' And here," exclaims, " the noble, pure, and kind, 
 
 Contentment's joys and honest gains may find." 
 
 Removed, in green luxurious solitude, 
 
 Sequestered from the clustering hamlet brood, 
 
 Beside a graceful curve the river drew, 
 
 " Glen Cottage " smiled upon his anxious view ; 
 
 A mountain brooklet near it met the tide 
 
 Of Housatonic, stream of Indian pride. ; 
 
 AUghting from the stage, he turned to seek ' 
 
 With wondering eye and story-telling cheek, 
 
 A "bower" by "flowering vines and boughs" enclosed. 
 
 Where fair Irene in summer hours reposed ; 
 
 Below a knoll, a pathway soon he found 
 
 Meandering, by the laughing brook it wound, 
 
 Till where it rushed more eagerly to meet 
 
 The river's breast, he saw the " bower " complete. 
 
 Its low o'erhanging boughs the water laved. 
 
 And round it wound a path by pebbles paved ; 
 
 Approaching cautiously, he passed the door, 
 
 By vines concealed, he kneeled upon the floor ;
 
 MISSION BklDK. 95 
 
 The sweet retreat became intensely dear, 
 So near Irene ! the thouglit unbound a tear. 
 New scenes gave no rebuke that memory claimed 
 The past as sacred, yet the present named. 
 Advancing joys, new ties about to bind 
 His life with flowery hopes and joys refined. 
 The child of many prayers and training just, 
 Not there did he forget the holy trust 
 A grateful heart retains. He rose subdued, 
 With pure resolves for future life imbued. 
 Remembering that Irene each sunset hour 
 Retires alone to this secluded bower, 
 He thought to leave a word for her sweet eye, 
 A promise thitherward at eve to hie : 
 " Thy cousin Oscar from thy father's land 
 Will meet thee here to night and claim thy hand. 
 In pledge of friendship and devotion true ; " 
 Then from the viney alcove he withdrew, 
 A curlmg tendrill of the Virgin's Bovver* 
 To tie the note, with leaf and snowy flower, 
 Laid on the mossy seat the strange bouquet. 
 Then turning, slow retraced his thoughtful way. 
 At noon the homely village inn he found. 
 Wearied, he sought a rest in sleep profound. 
 The royal sun gleamed in the purple West, 
 Where vailing cloudlets urged the day to rest ; 
 .Melodious heralds of advancing night 
 Gave Oscar's sanguine heart a new delight. 
 As with the eager step of youth, he sought 
 The bower where morning fancies he had wrouglit. 
 The way not half as long as first it seemed, 
 " Clematis Virginians.
 
 g6 EPIC POEM. 
 
 While yet trom circling hills the sunbeams streamed. 
 
 In flush of hope and dignity of pride 
 
 He stood again the unique bower beside ; 
 
 Soon, floating in the gentle evening breeze, 
 
 Approaching him, a snow-white scarf he sees ! 
 
 Quick, cautious, in a thicket near he hides, 
 
 And unobserved the strange denouement bides. 
 
 Irene passed by with dancing, joyous air, 
 
 Unseen, he saw she was — yes — very fair ! 
 
 She caroled to the answering birds so free. 
 
 Her music gushed, ay, gushed ethereally ! 
 
 Her fairy form flew on, she brushed aside 
 
 The hanging boughs, hke nymphs of wood or tide, 
 
 She seemed a rare, mysterious, beauteous thing, 
 
 Prepared to disappear on airy wing ! 
 
 Her form was hid behind the closing vine, 
 
 And Oscar bowed at Beauty's blooming shrine ! 
 
 Arousing from a trance of charming thought. 
 
 To make his presence known, the maid he sought. 
 
 Before her half reclining form he stood, 
 
 Their brows were fanned by leaflets of the wood ; 
 
 " Sweet cousin ! No intruder let me be, 
 
 I've travelled far my love to offer thee : 
 
 Thine uncle's son — may I present my hand 
 
 In greeting, and await thy soft command ! " 
 
 " Oscar ! thrice welcome, I to thee extend. 
 
 No stranger thou, an unexpected friend, 
 
 As these brief words convey, and I perused 
 
 Them with a strange delight to me unused." 
 
 He gently raised her yielding hand, and prest 
 
 His reverent lips, then laid it on his breast ; 
 
 Then sitting down, with charming smiles they spoke
 
 MISSION BRIDE. 97 
 
 Till gathering shades their happy converse broke. 
 Along the way the river currents roam, 
 She leads her cousin to her humble home, 
 Beside the garden wall, and through the gate 
 Where in the moonlit porch her parents wait : 
 Unconscious movements and inquiring eyes 
 Betray their sudden, undisguised surprise ; 
 " My father ! cousin Oscar ; mother dear. 
 Behold, one kindred friend has found us here ! 
 I met him in the bower an hour ago, 
 My uncle's son it is — it is, I know ! " 
 The twain advance with open arms to greet 
 A brother's child : they meet as true hearts meet. 
 " My boy ! thou'rt welcome here ; thy mother's eye 
 Is thine ; thy brow like hers is arched and high, 
 I see the classic index of her face; 
 The outlines of thy father's form I trace. 
 How camest thou, boy, to seek this alien shore, 
 To find thy long lost uncle's lowly door ? " 
 He ceased ; the matron spake with gentle word. 
 The deeps of youth's bright covered stream were stirred 1 
 " Oscar ! dear child of Scotia, wild and blest, 
 Wherein my broken-hearted parents rest, 
 Whose gowans are the brightest, and whose braes 
 Were friendly in my sad and unblest days ; 
 Thy ingle-sides are shrines of peace and truth, 
 And yet I left them in my loving youth ! 
 Dear Oscar ! hast thou come to love and cheer 
 These wanderers from home and kindred dear ? 
 Long may the noble impulse swell thy soul 
 That brought thee to this far but friendly goal." 
 The nejjhew bowed with deference mute yet kind, 
 7
 
 98 EPIC POEM. 
 
 Repressing feelings warm but undefined ; 
 
 Meanwhile Irene the evening meal prepared, 
 
 Which with sweet interchange of thought, they shared, 
 
 Night's soothing influence clo3ed the social scene 
 
 And each retired to sleep behind its screen. 
 
 As weeks rolled on, the lovers grew more dear, 
 The thought of parting called from each a tear. 
 Their hearts were plighted ; Oscar of Glenwayn, 
 In two more years his cousin-bride should claim ! 
 The active world between the lovers rushed. 
 And lingering chimes of joy grew sofdy hushed. 
 
 The future laird on ocean's cradling breast. 
 
 The shores grew dim in cloud vails of the west ; 
 
 Columbia vanished from his silent gaze. 
 
 And all around was nought but formless haze — 
 
 The wave beneath ; the space above, whence stars 
 
 Were twinklmg from behind ethereal bars. 
 
 Monotonous the weeks wore on ; a life at sea 
 
 Gave Oscar's mind a calm ; his thought roamed free, 
 
 It reveled in the heart's young dreams to build 
 
 Bright airy structures for his hope to gild. 
 
 Diffusive halos from the storied Past, 
 
 Through Memory's aid were 'round Dumbarton cast. 
 
 And kindling with the wanderer's return 
 
 The fire that may in patriot bosoms burn ! 
 
 He pauses on the silver-limpid Clyde 
 
 And sweeps his eye o'er mount and moor-field wide ; 
 
 Warm welling tears of gratitude and joy 
 
 Unite the manhood's impulse with the boy ; 
 
 " O, never let my steps — a pilgrim — roam
 
 MISSION BRIDE. 99 
 
 From thee, my father-land ! my glorious home ! 
 Most eloquent, heroic, truth declares 
 High deeds inspired of thy pure mountain airs, 
 And that the hea^t that loyal swells for thee 
 May grasp the free-born strength of liberty ! 
 Thou Future ! show me through a magic glass, 
 My life, by God decreed in thee to pass, 
 Shed radiance on its brinks of danger, sweep 
 Their clustering roses down, lest I may sleep 
 Too near destruction's awful pit, despair, 
 And roll, unconscious to the darkness there ! 
 Forbid it, God — the impious wish exprest 
 To fathom secrets of thy Triune breast ; 
 The humble acquiescent of thy will. 
 My eyes un vailed, my destiny fulfill." 
 
 His thoughts are changed, with vigor speeds his feet 
 Toward ancient walls in view, where waters meet 
 Around the castle's base and shine away, 
 Far north where waits the bosom of Achray ; 
 Ah ! well we know the joy his presence gives, 
 As friends at home behold that Oscar lives ! 
 We leave him now, and trace the gentle life 
 Of that fair one designed to be his wife. 
 
 One after one the zodiacal train 
 With each peculiar dress robed hill and plain ; 
 June roses died, red clover blooms grew sere. 
 Leaves falling told the autumn of the year. 
 When bright eyed asters wore the varying tinge 
 Of distant heavens on their starry fringe. 
 Afar, along the hills the crimsoned glow 
 Of dying verdure faded, dim and slow.
 
 loo EPIC POEM. 
 
 And evening airs spread cooler round the rill, 
 And in the pastures, morning dews were chill. 
 The fields of waving grain above the glen 
 Had ripened, and was stored in barn and pen ; 
 No more was seen the tasseled crowns of maize — 
 They were dethroned amid the August days ; 
 Their yellow treasures for the future stored. 
 Fair Plenty smiled amid the golden hoard. 
 Grand Autumn to the unknown Mist-land passed, 
 Its struggling breath absorbed by shivering blast. 
 Its leaves that Summer's emeralds brightly grew, 
 Were Hke the joys our later loves bestrew, 
 As life's rude storms remorseless rise and play, 
 Unmindful how they sweep them all away ! 
 
 Irene grew lonely then. She watched the star 
 That shone o'er her beloved's path afar, 
 Arcturus 'mong his dimmer suns, benign 
 Shone o'er the dark-robed firs a, gem divine. 
 In bright companionship, though lower down. 
 With Cynosure upon the Zenith's crown. 
 
 O, love is like a wandering bird 
 
 In search of sunny skies ; 
 It echoes far — the echoes heard, 
 
 Then echo-hke it flies ! 
 
 O love ! art thou a fearless child ? 
 
 Remembrancer of fears .' 
 Dead leaflets show where roses smiled, 
 
 Bedewed with summer's tears.
 
 MISSION BRIDE. loi 
 
 Thou vernal consciousness of life ! 
 
 Too blooming long to last ! 
 Sweet hoping tenderness of strife, 
 
 Preceding sorrow's blast. 
 
 Irene, recall thy roving dreams ! 
 
 Let nature rest again ; 
 Prepare to breast revulsive streams. 
 
 To nurse affection's pain. 
 
 The waning months of Autumn gave 
 To Housatonic's gentle wave, 
 A chilling gloom ; its fertile vales 
 Received from doubtful passing gales 
 Dire fever's breath ; and sickness reigns 
 In new-built homes, on hills and plains ; 
 While Death his rapid arrows speeds, 
 And clothed in black the mourner bleeds. 
 The wind blew shrill one cloudy day. 
 Within the cot a sufferer lay. 
 Whose tide of life was ebbing low, 
 Well nigh congealed its purple flow; 
 See! watchers o'er the couch bend low, 
 A few faint words of farewell said, i 
 
 And Death laid low a father's head. 
 That mother, taught by years of toil 
 From heart rebellion to recoil. 
 Now while the gathering shadows close 
 Damp folds of grief around her, knows 
 That faith has power to light the tomb, 
 And bear her soul above its gloom ! 
 Round every memory of the dead 
 Does love divine its radiance shed;
 
 102 EPIC POEM. 
 
 She weeps, but calmly bows and prays, 
 And God, in gentle trust, obeys. 
 Irene beneath the storm of grief 
 First flutters like an aspen leaf; 
 Unused to sorrow's crushing air. 
 Her feelings border on despair; 
 Yet from her mother's faith she learns, 
 And soon the hand of God discerns. 
 And meekly bowing, grows subdued. 
 With humble love to God, imbued. 
 
 Before some faggots blazing bright, 
 They sat alone one chilly night. 
 As time flew on with silent wing. 
 Nearer to Winter and to Spring; 
 Irene the silene broke : " The time 
 Is long since Oscar left our clime ; 
 Three dreary months and yet no word 
 For me has come — no spirit bird ! 
 My heart is doubly sad in this, 
 I've little hope for future bliss ; 
 I sometimes fear his cold form sleeps 
 In ocean's dark unyielding deeps ! " 
 
 " Sweet daughter, find thy highest joy in prayer, 
 Nor ever of the future hope too much ; 
 Allow no doubts to darken present good. 
 Committed to thy Savior's care, thy days 
 Shall each unite — a golden link, to bind 
 Thy thoughts of happiness, immortal hopes. 
 Hark!"
 
 MISSION BRIDE. 103 
 
 The post-boy broke the earnest scene, 
 " A letter here for Miss Irene; " 
 She caught it with a pensive smile, 
 Unconscious tears gushed forth the while ; 
 She saw the stamp, and broke the seal, 
 With fervor youth may only feel ; 
 'Twas Oscar's word, 'twas Oscar's thought, 
 His name was with her being wrought. 
 
 " Irene; I met thee long ago in dreams, 
 
 In childhood's rosy morn, before the sun 
 
 Of life dispelled the infant dews that lay 
 
 On every reaching tendril of the heart, 
 
 Which shone — each one a sphere of crystal joy ! 
 
 And these were dreams of day as well as night ; 
 
 My mother's nursery tales, in glowing hues, 
 
 Made pictures of a little blue-eyed girl. 
 
 Who lived the wide blue field of waters o'er,- 
 
 Within a land afar, but litde known. 
 
 Whose father hence had roamed in other times. 
 
 The still dear scion of our noble hne. 
 
 I grew to love my cousin then, and wild 
 
 Sweet fancies filled my brain ; I thought to see 
 
 That gentle one in future years—///;' wife ! 
 
 To find her in those flowery woods, the bloom 
 
 Most fair, and bring her to my ancient home. 
 
 Swift years flew by ; rejoicing in my youth, 
 
 I travelled many leagues, across the sea. 
 
 And found the gentle one in future mine ! 
 
 So now, my Bird of Paradise ! I'd breathe, 
 
 In this reality prophetic love 
 
 And urge a sweet injunction o'er and o'er.
 
 I04 EPIC POEM. 
 
 'Tis this : remember how thine Oscar loves! 
 O, would I might enfold thee to this heart ! 
 Kind fairies ! make a plume of every golden tress, 
 And then Irene will fly to me ! 
 
 She would 
 Not pause 'till o'er the hills, around this glen. 
 The sacred hills my childhood thought inbound 
 The blooming world ! Glad, buoyant, o'er the blue 
 Expanse of ocean, to old Scotland's realm. 
 Where on the heather's purple cloud I sit, 
 To welcome her, my spirit bird ! Oh, come ! 
 I'll press thy panting heart to mine, sweet one ! 
 And like two blended streams, our lives no more 
 Shall flow apart : our clasping selves, ordained 
 For one pure end, one radiant sphere of joy, 
 Shall on toward perfect being — life eterne ! 
 'Tis long since we were parted, love ! I passed 
 The homeward journey safely ; now I breathe 
 My native air, and deem it purer than 
 Before my wanderings ; life is stronger now. 
 Its purposes more noble, duty clear. 
 My hopes as bright, but more serene. 
 
 I wait 
 For tidings, gentle words of love and truth, 
 From thee. My darling ! I am ever thine." 
 
 December's Borean breezes past, 
 While genial spring her shroud o'er cast ; 
 Proud Nature, Summer's requiem sings. 
 And on the earth its trappings flings. 
 'Tis time for sweet and solemn thought, 
 Within that home a change is v/rought.
 
 MISSION BRIDE. 105 
 
 A dimmer light pervades its hearth, 
 Paternal strength, and love, and worth ; 
 Its absence every day combines. 
 To give a shadow to their minds ; 
 But Christian hope and faith still prove 
 The cheerful smiles, the peace of love. 
 
 To other times and scenes, my muse repair ! 
 
 Unclose the bars that bind the mighty Past ; 
 Let distance flee ; conduct me onward where 
 
 We left our hero in his home at last ! 
 A patriot breast, and humble Christian worth, 
 
 A mind well balanced, and a spotless name. 
 Virtues which from immortal hopes have birth, 
 
 Gives manhood right to bliss and meeds of fame! 
 Equipped for life's parade, behold him now, 
 
 Of Stirlingshire the pride ! There's manly grace, 
 And wisdom stamped upon his open brow ; 
 
 The scholar-statesman of his Highland race! 
 Ai this bright hour in Oscar's early life, 
 
 When love before him hangs its pictures clear, 
 A civil broil begins, a deadly strife, 
 
 Which wraps the land in desolation drear. 
 
 Prince Charles, descendant of the Stuart line. 
 
 The line old Scotia gave to England's throne. 
 Became extinct in royal Ann's decline 
 
 When Hanoverian sovereigns first were known, 
 " The Chevalier," sustained by Gallic hordes. 
 
 Upheld by Papal promise, now stood forth, 
 Demanding homage from the Scottish lords, 
 
 In right of Second James, his grand-sire's worth.
 
 io6 EPIC POEM. 
 
 The standard of rebellion waving high, 
 
 Now floats above — o'er castle, hill, and dale ; 
 Proud chiefs and chieftains to the standard fly, 
 
 Each other's arms with speed to countervail. 
 Here streams the Flag of England, there the Prince; 
 
 Beneath their folds the several parties range ; 
 M'Gregors, Gordons, Donalds, all evince 
 
 Their hatred of the Saxon interchange. 
 
 Dear Caledonia shall be free again, 
 
 Her Stuarts still shall wield the sceotred power; 
 Rome and her mitred faith they will sustain, 
 
 Will give their blood in the decisive hour ! 
 The Compact of the Nations they disown : 
 
 If true, 'twas England first that broke the seal ! 
 Faithless, their Second James she did dethrone. 
 
 Against religion's hope and Scotland's weal. 
 
 The royal standard bears its colors high, 
 
 The sacred parchment leaf by leaf unrolls ; 
 " Here is your signet," Englishmen reply, 
 
 " Your voice with ours this lovely isle controls — 
 False James, his trust, his country did betray ; 
 
 Its Constitution trampled 'neath his feet, 
 Unworthy, thus to hold the kingly sway ! 
 
 Britons and Scots, alike, did Mary greet ! " 
 Thus on the side of Royal George, behold 
 
 Each loyal Scot ; brave Douglas, Scotland's pride, 
 Montrose and Lenox, with M'Pherson bold; 
 
 The land, alas ! a civil war must bide ! 
 With zealous heart, young Oscar joins the band, 
 
 The force that would a rebel host repel, 
 A warrior now with battle-axe and brand 
 
 To guard the city, mountain-pass, and fell.
 
 MISSION BRIDE. 107 
 
 The bold insurgent force with rapid inarch 
 
 Sweeps o'er the North— her straths and fells among; 
 The lowland dales recall, they countermarch, 
 
 Their numbers doubling from the rallying throng. 
 The royal band their strength to measure dread ; 
 
 Their leader, Cope, with trembling courage stands; 
 The moving columns soon with vigor spread 
 
 To wait the Chevalier at Preston Pans ; 
 Their ready lines await, nor wait they long; 
 
 The fiery Gaul in arms, the stalwart Scot, 
 Their leader bold in youthful vigor strong. 
 
 Pressed on the charge — th' attack — the counterplot. 
 The sun in beauty from the Orient born, 
 
 O'er Stirling's hills its golden beamlets fall ; 
 Hearts warm with life, responsive to the morn, 
 
 Must sleep in death beneath the evening's pall. 
 
 Now hark ! A distant sound — a stifled hum ; 
 
 It nears; the drum ; the trumpet's hoarser note ; 
 Charles the Pretender; see! his legions come, 
 
 In heaven's blue dome his victory is wrote. 
 Now face to face the ready warriors stand. 
 
 The yeomen of old England's feudal soil, 
 And plaided Scot with targe and glittering brand. 
 
 Impatient, hope the rebel troops to foil. 
 Before their ranks the leaders urge their cause. 
 
 Inspire each host with patriotic zeal ; 
 This pleads the Stuart's rights, that England's laws, 
 
 ThiSy Britain's power, and that, fair Scotia's weal. 
 
 Alas ! that stern Ambition — child of hate. 
 For empty fame — for individual pride,
 
 io8 EPIC POEM. 
 
 Should steep in kindred blood — should desolate 
 
 The dearest ties that in the heart abide ! 
 Their voices hush ; portentous silence reigns, 
 
 Like prelude of the earthquake's trembling crush, 
 A shout is heard along old Preston's plains : 
 
 "To charge!" " To charge ! " The hosts to battle rush. 
 Sharp lightnings flash along each marshalled line, 
 
 Proud England's soldiers leaden missiles boast j 
 But Scot and Gaul in fearless rush combine 
 
 To break her serried ranks, to rout the host. 
 The wasting stream of life, the dying moan 
 
 Is silent 'mid the din of clashing steel. 
 The last faint prayer is breathed to God alone, 
 
 'Neath tramp of furious steed, 'mid thundering peal. 
 M'Gregor, Argyle, Campbell, Breadalbane, 
 
 Their chargers flashing fire ; on, on they dash, 
 A whirlwind surge ! a Highland hurricane ! 
 
 Commingling death within its deafening crash. 
 And now the ranks — the allied host gives way 
 
 Before the Scotsman's fierce and firm attack ; 
 The Briton flies before the dread array. 
 
 And blood-lines pencil his retreating track. 
 Nor fear, the embattled troops impels to flight 
 
 The conflict death's red triumphs interweaves ; 
 Full many an English sabre flashing bright, 
 
 And Highland brand, a rebel helmet cleaves ! 
 The bold Pretender flushed anew with pride, 
 
 His hopes with wild enthusiasm burn ; 
 Bright victory perches on Sedition's side, 
 
 Five hundred slain the purpled plains inurn. 
 Alas ! Proud Stuart ! Thy desires shall fail. 
 
 Though now thy star-lit triumphs glitter high ;
 
 MISSION BRIDE. 109 
 
 Brave Cumberlandnhy vict'ries will assail, 
 And on CuUoden's moor thy hopes shall die. 
 
 Beyond the lowland vales of fair Monteith, 
 
 Beside the flowing Turk — a broad defile, 
 A score of weary soldiers halt beneath 
 
 A canopy of oaks to rest awhile. 
 The Mid-land slopes in distant southern line 
 
 In verdant prospect undulating spread; 
 Far north are Highland hillocks clad in pine, 
 
 In dreamy distance Ledi rears its head. 
 Across the river Turk does Loch Achray, 
 
 Sleep sweetly in its fringe of heather blue, 
 Where once of yore, upon a hill-side gray 
 
 Sprang up the Alpine Clan of Roderic Dhu ; 
 Upon the shore of lovely Vennachar, 
 
 Around their leader drew the warriors brave 
 In sight of Highland mounts and glens afar. 
 
 To rest upon the battle-axe and glave. 
 Reclining there upon the friendly ground. 
 
 The hour-glass counts the silent time away. 
 The sentinel surveys the plateau's bound, 
 
 Till slanting sunbeams show the waning day. 
 Aroused, the band their tethered chargers rein. 
 
 To cross the bridge and gain the distant pass ; 
 Within its rock bound barriers to remain 
 
 'Till England's arms her borders can repass. 
 But hark! "the tramp of steeds! " '"Tis from the West,!" 
 
 Thc're full in view, an angry rel)el host ! 
 Their score is trebled! " Flee ! " 'Tis life's behest ; 
 
 Pursuers and pursued from sight are lost I 
 The sun had nearly reached his western home. 
 
 The peasant left his field in wild alarm,
 
 no EPIC POEM. 
 
 While rushed the steel-clad host in thundering tone, 
 
 Like winds that herald winter's howling storm I 
 The charge is urged with speed o'er hill and dale, 
 
 Miles pass in flight — long distance intervenes; 
 Young Oscar marks the rebels' scattering trail, 
 
 And hope revives as safety supervenes : 
 A voice rings out! 'Tis Malcom's son's command: 
 
 "Turn, turn upon our foes, the death-sweep give! 
 Shout for King George ! Let battle-axe and brand 
 
 Cut down that murderous band unfit to live." 
 As torrents from their pent-up channels rush, 
 
 With maddening tide in their resistless path 
 Sweeping in grandeur as their waters crush. 
 
 And bury human structures in their wrath, 
 So the retreating band their steps retrace. 
 
 And pour destruction on their scattered foes ; 
 The foremost hopeless sink in death apace. 
 
 And shouts of pain and victory arose. 
 Ten battle-axes red, the story told, 
 
 Ten claymores drank the life-blood current sped ; 
 Clan Ronalds, Camerons, Morgans, Grahams bold, 
 
 Prostrate and lifeless mingled with the dead. 
 This unexpected charge — this coup-de-main, 
 
 Arrested fierce pursuit and left a dread 
 In every bosom of the rebel train. 
 
 And Oscar with his men in triumph fled. 
 Fear paralyzed the stern, rebellious band, 
 
 As on their slaughtered comrades' forms they gazed, 
 And saw the vital current stain the sand 
 
 As death in silence chill, their eyeballs glazed. 
 Their leader slain, pursuit they cease to press; 
 
 Amid a score of dead which tells the tale.
 
 MISSION BRIDE. in 
 
 His corse is borne along in mute distress, 
 
 As back to Preston Pans they wind their trail. 
 
 Now droops the royal ensign, shadows brood 
 
 O'er hill and glen ; Charles Edward bears the sway 
 In his triumphant march to Holyrood, 
 
 His conquering host press on without delay. 
 The lowlands tremble at his near approach ; 
 
 War sweeps the land from Forth to Tweed between 
 Eskdale and Liddesdale! list, your foes encroach 
 
 On your sweet vales, and sweep thtir verdant sheen 
 There leave we him whose sanguine arm would crush 
 
 Dissenting faith, the Hanoverian reign, 
 And thus restore proud Rome without a blush. 
 
 Though Smithfield martyrs deep record the stain; 
 We leave him flushed with hope on England's soil, 
 
 But soon his arms shall meet a fearful doom ; 
 In dark despair his bosom shall recoil, 
 
 And find in foreign lands a lonely tomb. 
 We leave the Chevalier, and Oscar trace, 
 
 When from the skirmish late, to honor true, 
 He crossed the Turk, and found at length a place 
 
 Among the rocky cliffs of Ben Venu. 
 The surging tide of war awhile is still, 
 
 The troops insurgent rest on Derby's heights; 
 North Scotland's lords, whose patriot bosoms thrill, 
 Assemble to discuss the Nation's rights. 
 
 At length the summer's sun begins to wane, 
 The barley and the wheat are ripening bright, 
 
 The Earth's increase, the flushing fruits again 
 The cultivator's gladsome hopes invite.
 
 112 EPIC POEM. 
 
 Scotland, alas ! few smiles tJiy sons await, 
 
 War's devastating hand has traced thy doom ; 
 While dark rebellion moves the car of state. 
 
 The land must be submerged in hopeless gloom. 
 Let Wisdom, child of Heaven, thy efforts guide. 
 
 Nor drench thy soil in thine own living stream, 
 To satisfy an alien^s lust and pride, 
 
 And vivify corrupt Ambition's dream ! 
 From East, from West, from North, a gathered host 
 
 Grouped on an esplanade anear St. Bride, 
 Uplift to God their supplicating voice 
 
 That His own hand their future course may guide ! 
 Id earnest thought for Scotland's highest weal, 
 
 They strive in faith their plans to interweave. 
 To bind with patriot links, and holy zeal, 
 
 The sundered clans whom sophistries deceive. 
 As scattered clouds by winds are hurried forth. 
 
 Are whirled in wrath along the air-built way. 
 While sunbeams through them on the green-clad earth, 
 
 Pour down the benison of lustrous day, 
 So war's dark forms and wild sulphurous airs 
 
 Which now old Scotia's hills and glens o'erspread, 
 In threat'ning aspect which around her bears, 
 
 Shall flee, and peace its light and gladness shed. 
 A close debate, and forth the notes of peace 
 
 Arose, rebuking din and battle-cry ; 
 " From strife tumultuous, chieftains, let us cease ! 
 
 The slogan dire no more shall rend the sky ! " 
 Such, such the voice of every faithful Scot, 
 
 The wise conclusion made before St. Bride; 
 Its echoes trembled far from cliff and grot, 
 
 And thundered down Ben Ledi's listening side !
 
 MISSION BRIDE. 113 
 
 They rose again and rolled o'er fell and glen, 
 
 The cushat dove more buoyant mounted high, 
 Exulting in her sweep around Ben An, 
 
 She seemed an Ariel of the cloudless sky ! 
 Some chiefs are absent whose accord they prize, 
 
 Clan Ronald, Cameron bold, and proud Argyle — 
 Will he return and thus immortalize 
 
 His ducal crown — the Nation reconcile ? 
 Will he, proud ruler of the Western glade, 
 
 His sword ensheath, his buckler cast aside. 
 Disband his clansmen to the plow and spade. 
 
 And loyal to King George in faith abide ? 
 
 Then rose a lord of fine commanding mien, 
 
 His words the anxious listeners enchain ; 
 A clear and fearless eye bespeaks his strene, 
 
 'Tis Malcom, counselor of fair Glenwayn. 
 " List ! men of Scotland, list ! I now propose 
 
 To send a message to the absent Duke, 
 Our purpose show, our hopes and fears disclose, 
 
 Impending ruin thus we may rebuke ; 
 Our duty done, results with Heaven we leave, 
 
 Let Argyle understand the Highland voice, 
 I'o honor bright his noble soul will cleave 
 
 And Scotland in her justice shall rejoice." 
 
 No voice dissenting, with one loud acclaim 
 
 The colligation cordially accept 
 The wise proposal, and proceed to name 
 
 The men who shall the ordinance direct : 
 The lord of Buchan and the brave Monteith, 
 
 The thane of Inverness, in council grave; 
 8
 
 114 . EPIC POEM. 
 
 To these were joined Glenwayn, and Duncan Keith, 
 
 Men famed, in council wise, in battle brave. 
 Commissioned safe to bear the rescript bond 
 
 To Lord Argyle, from council at St. Bride, 
 Are Fergus of Monteith, and Oscar found. 
 
 Courageous, dauntless in their manly pride ! 
 Their labor done, the convocation kneel 
 
 In solemn gratitude and love to God ; 
 A thousand hearts most fervently appeal 
 
 For blessings on Old Scotia's brotherhood ? 
 Ben Ledi hears the prayer, the mounts respond, 
 
 Old Ben Venu by earthquake forces riven. 
 Stands firm to bless the consecrated bond. 
 
 And lift the trembling accents up to Heaven. 
 
 Hope, sweet affiance of the human breast ! 
 
 Kindled delight in many a Highland home 
 As spread the tidings North, and East, and West, 
 
 Of love and joy, of peaceful days to come. 
 Beneath a lonely mountain's shaggy side. 
 
 Where Brachlin's dashing noisy waves enlarge. 
 The convoys urge their course in hasty stride ; 
 
 They cUmb the heights and span the threat'ning gorge; 
 Behold upon their left the Trossach cliffs ! 
 
 Huge as the piles that heap New England's shore, 
 Each thunder-riven summit upward lifts 
 
 Its calm beatitude fore verm ore ! 
 Here cease my pen : Kind reader, wouldst thou share 
 
 Unseen their grandeur wild ? Then careful take 
 The lays of Scott — they're pictured nobly there 
 
 In Canto first — the Lady of the Lake.
 
 MISSION BRIDE. 115 
 
 The sun had doffed in pride his noontide blaze, 
 
 And to his westering course forever true, 
 The shades of evening fell in darkening maze 
 
 Adown the eastern side of Ben Venu. 
 Beneath its foot the lovely Katrine lay, 
 
 As if the solitudes it would beguile, 
 And calmly rest till morn's returning ray 
 
 Should give new lustres to its emerald isle. 
 
 Lo ! cloud on cloud shuts in the darkening West ; 
 
 As o'er Ben Lomond hangs the murky shroud. 
 It undulates a black protentous crest ; 
 
 Beneath its gloom the mountain stands unbowed ! 
 Hark! 'tis the thunder's peal — the cloud upheaves, 
 
 Luw solemn notes prolong the dying sound ; 
 The hairbell trembles, roses drop their leaves. 
 
 Again ! more loud : the crashing peals rebound 1 
 As rolls the dark and turgid mass along. 
 
 The lightning's flash an awful scene displays, 
 A sense of tempest fury, wild and strong, 
 
 Threatening the pillars of the earth to raze ! 
 While falls a sea of rattling hail and rain, 
 
 And flames are spread from th' electric spark, 
 Oscar and Fergus briefly hope to gain 
 
 A shelter in a neighboring cavern dark ; 
 O futile hope ! Bright Oscar ! wert thou born 
 
 To seal this hour with sudden death ! a doom 
 So unexpected in tiiy manhood's morn ! 
 
 Ben Lomond echoes : " Matthooii's morning doom / " 
 A moment's pause, a pale sulphurous blast 
 
 Shoots down in silence from the breaking cloud — 
 'Tis quickly gone — the awful moment's past. 
 
 And Oscar quivers in his storm-torn shroud !
 
 ii6 EPIC POEM. 
 
 'Tis sad to see from eyes we love 
 The flashing lights ot life grow dim, 
 
 Fade lingering, ere in courts above 
 They glow in an eternal gleam. 
 
 'Tis mournful to the tender heart 
 To know, a voice it loves to list. 
 
 Grows weaker, weaker as depart 
 The sunset glows in evening's mist. 
 
 'Tis sad and cold to feel that soon 
 A loving clasp will cease to press 
 
 Joys to our hearts, as sweets in June, 
 Are richer when the rose we press. 
 
 But 'tis a holy bliss to feel 
 
 That kindred souls may meet above, 
 
 Where death no more can waste or steal 
 The warmth of life, the light of love. 
 
 The months of cold were gone ; mild Spring began 
 To woo the blossoms forth ; new waters ran 
 In liquid light, and free ; last year's decay 
 Was all forgot before the smile of May ! 
 Glen Cottage stood in doubtful shadow still. 
 Within was gloomy fear of coming ill, 
 Forebodings sad the mother scarce concealed, 
 Her slower step her wasting health revealed. 
 
 " Sweet mother ! why that trembling, tearful cheek ? 
 When pressed upon mine own, you rarely speak ! 
 Your dear caress was always tenderness, 
 But now your weeping eyes my hopes oppress ! 
 Each kiss I leave upon your calm pale brow
 
 MISSION BRIDE. 117 
 
 Seems one the less cold tate will there allow ; 
 
 But taught by you that consummated love 
 
 Shall thrill united souls in bliss above, 
 
 I still will pray, and ask the Lord to give 
 
 His grace and strength that I may cheerful live : 
 
 But when I deem an orphan's lot mine own, 
 
 I shrink from that dread word, alone, alone ! 
 
 O, must I live the intervening years 
 
 In silent hope till sorrow disappears ? 
 
 Must struggle on without a parent's care, 
 
 And brave the world's suspicious, friendless air ? 
 
 I may perchance be doomed to many woes, 
 
 But, walking in the way my mother chose, 
 
 I shall unmurmuring endure them all, 
 
 'Till death and Jesus shall my soul recall ; 
 
 My form perchance to stranger mould consigned, 
 
 Mourned, save by few, for memories left behind." 
 
 Irene, o'ercame by sadness, ceased the strain, 
 
 And silence but increased the mental pain, 
 
 'Till words, incited, from her mother's lips, 
 
 Like shades penumbral in the sun's eclipse, 
 
 A darkening circle seemed more clear to bind 
 
 Around the daughter's contemplative mind. 
 
 " Dear child ! 'twas ever tliy dear father's care. 
 And mine, to plant the germs of holiness 
 Within thy virgin heart for future bloom ; 
 To give thee early knowledge of commands 
 The wise Creator has imposed on all 
 The creatures of his power and love. Thou art 
 Responsible for every act — each thouglu ! 
 From each shall spring thy hapjMness or grief;
 
 ii8 EPIC POEM. 
 
 This world is not the place for constant gloom ; 
 
 A heart desiring good, a life of prayer, 
 
 And sweet submission to the laws of life, 
 
 Shall reap the fruits of peace — the smiles of truth. 
 
 Thou art a gentle, duteous child : some pangs 
 
 Assail my erring heart when pressed with thoughts 
 
 That soon my failing form must yield its breath 
 
 To angel ministry, to conduct safe, 
 
 In all its disembodied, fluttering sensa 
 
 Of mysteries immortal, opening strange ! 
 
 But, ah ! I will submissively resign 
 
 My darling to the orphan's friend : Few years 
 
 At most and I shall meet thee, dear, in Paradise ! 
 
 To God I trust thy promise ; for some high 
 
 And useful end my only child may live. 
 
 Be true to Oscar ; when the time expires. 
 
 Thy nuptials consummated, freely go 
 
 Where'er thy husband's way in life may lead, 
 
 Where'er thy husband's home, that home be thine, 
 
 Thy duties be thy joys ; with cheerful step, 
 
 Whether in humble or exalted walk, 
 
 Let all thy days be true to woman's trust. 
 
 Sometimes, Irene, does love forget its truth. 
 
 When all its early glow grows dim and chill. 
 
 As newer, brighter pictures charm the mind ! 
 
 O cultivate the violets of faithfulness : 
 
 Let no suspicious weed their growth obscure : 
 
 Work faithfully. Wait patiently, and God 
 
 Thy destiny shall mark and guide, nor thou 
 
 Canst change the flutter of one leaf 
 
 Of life, nor hue of one sweet flower of joy 
 
 Unaided by Omnipotence and prayer : 
 
 May wisdom be reflected in thy soul ! "
 
 MISSION BRIDE. 119 
 
 A mantle of aerial birth, 
 In its mysterious fall to Earth, 
 Endraped the grountl in voiceless night 
 \Vith soft surprise of flaky white ! 
 Each porous, fair, adhering part 
 Was fashioned with a cunning art, 
 In one pure vesture, all combined, 
 As noble thoughts compose the mind. 
 AU'unexpectedly it fell. 
 When vernal bloom ht up the dell, 
 And balmy airs had lent their breath 
 To frosts benighted on the heath ; 
 While May was whispering of June ; 
 Before the warming gaze of noon, 
 It melted silently away, 
 Its life was shorter than a day ! 
 
 Glen Cottage ere that day was gone 
 Sent forth a low and sorrowing moan; 
 And soft as melts the vernal snows, 
 As dew falls on a chaliced rose ; 
 And calm as floats the zephyr's breath 
 A mother passed away in death ! 
 A few low words and all was still 
 As winter chains can bind a nil. 
 In sweet arrangement on her breast, 
 Her small cold hands were laid to rest! 
 Awakened by the Sun of Heaven, 
 A glad immortal action given, 
 Her spirit soared above the skies, 
 Delightful powers to exercise ; 
 She passed in Christian faith away. 
 Her night of life awoke to day I
 
 I20 EPIC POEM. 
 
 " My mother ! Art thou dead? Oh, speak 
 Alas ! there's coldness on thy cheek ; 
 Dear mother, look once more — once more 
 Upon thy loving child ! once more ! 
 No, no, my heart, it cannot be, 
 These eyes shall ope no more on me. 
 Remains there in this clouded world, 
 A guardian for thine orphan girl ? 
 My Oscar's presence might awake 
 To hope my heart that else will break." 
 Then burst her grief in tears like rain, 
 And failed her tongue to end the strain, 
 While o'er the lifeless form she bent 
 In sorrow's meek abandonment, 
 'Till softly, gentle arms removed 
 Her from the one she best had loved. 
 
 The village of the dead ! What solemn air, 
 What silent gloom its habitudes declare ! 
 Their swaying daisies have a paler crown. 
 Their bends the Babylonian willow down, 
 Carnation blooms have there a sickly smell, 
 There grasses an ephemeral lesson tell. 
 And ever with the grave-yard's mystic gloom, 
 Associates the brier's * pale hued bloom. 
 I now remember, when a wandering child, 
 I dare not pluck the scarlet berries wild ; 
 The bright strawberries on the grassy mound, 
 For every inch was consecrated ground ! 
 O, children have strange senses unexplained, 
 
 * Rosa Rubiginosa.
 
 MISSION BRIDE. 121 
 
 Whose influence is after, long retained; 
 They are not vagaries nor passing dreams, 
 Although existence then enchantment seems. 
 
 Mournfully, mournfully, tolls the village bell ; 
 Low dying murmurs sink in copse and dell ; 
 See, slowly, slowly, winds a measured train 
 Around the hill, above the river-plane; 
 Nearer, nearer to the black-edged gates, 
 Where damp and deep a new-made grave awaits ; 
 Ah ! who has fastened wide the portals back ? 
 Did spectral Death precede the mourner's track ? 
 Among the mossy tablets lettered old, 
 Where life's brief history is quaintly told, 
 The mute procession winds ; the bearers pause : 
 A hand has ope'd the Book of Love and Laws, 
 And heads uncovered list with solemn trust ; 
 "All flesh is grass," anrt " dust returns to dust," 
 Pronounced by reverend lips ; the service close 
 Precedes the sound that every mourner knows : 
 Dull rattling clods upon the coffin spread, 
 And rising winds moan sadder for the dead. 
 
 Glen Cottage fair ! no more thy vine-clad walls 
 
 Shall list the voice of incense-breathing prayer, 
 No smiling cherub carols in thy halls, 
 
 Sweet songs that vibrate on the evening air. 
 Not doomed alone in grief the world to roam — 
 
 The lovely orphan-girl, so sad and lone, 
 No more returns to her deserted home. 
 
 The voice of love she hears in kindly tone; 
 The Savior grants the dying mother's prayer, 
 
 His pitying smile and gracious love bestows,
 
 122 EPIC POEM. 
 
 The village pastor with a parent's care, 
 
 Adopts the orphan child and soothes her woes. 
 
 As calm as resting seas that stretch away 
 
 Beyond the visual organ's straining sight, 
 In strength and middle age was Samuel Ray, 
 
 Content to shine in heaven's most placid light : 
 Kind impulse, cherished fruitfully and long 
 
 Had made his being radiant as gleams 
 The ocean's breast untouched by cloud or storm, 
 
 Or bright as spray-diffusive summer streams ! 
 
 A warm domestic circle closes round 
 
 The pensive maiden — a protecting screen ; 
 Fraternal bliss, on Earth so rarely found ! 
 
 Connubial love unblasted, pure, serene. 
 Two sisters, and one brother's happy face. 
 
 Compose the pastor's treasures, with a wife 
 In whom maternal and religious grace 
 
 Combine with gentleness to charm his life ; 
 Fair Helen, Theodora and Irene, 
 
 And Robert, with the true emprise of youth. 
 Comprise a lovely group : 'tis such a scene 
 
 No hand of art can reproduce its truth ! 
 
 The first depending, sweet, infantile gem 
 
 Of those two virtuous lives, by love inwrought, 
 Was " Dora," gift of God ! a diadem 
 
 For hopes parental, in maturing thought. 
 Just twenty-one ! As soft as on a rose 
 
 The dews of morning fall — each one a pearl, 
 The vestal charms her opening years disclose 
 
 Are jewels for the kind unselfish girl.
 
 MISSION BRIDE. 123 
 
 In sweet sincerity — by acts expressed, 
 
 Warm, clasping arms, and ever gentle air, 
 
 Irene, a " sister " stands in love confessed — 
 Congenial sister of the wavy hair ! 
 
 Fair Helen ! beautiful as Sparta's queen, 
 
 Whom Trojan Paris, with delusive will, 
 Allured from Menelaus with princely mien, 
 
 While poor ^-Enone wept on Asia's hill I 
 Her eyes were changeful in their dreamy hue, 
 
 Which in her piquant play of smile or word 
 Flashed dark, were hazel-brown, or azure-blue, 
 
 Or, melting when her tones of song were heard. 
 A fleecy cloudlet seemed her silken hair. 
 
 Possessed through aid of some enchanter's art ; 
 Its floating meshes kissed by sunbeams, were 
 
 Entanglements delightful round the heart ! 
 And, like the skies of April, when suffused 
 
 With tears of transient grief, and mute her tone, 
 Her brow by frowns o'ercast, her smiles unused, 
 
 One moment clouded, and the spell was gone ! 
 Her heart was all affection if combined 
 
 Those sweet approvals flattery interweaves ; 
 Of mediocral grade, her lively mind 
 
 Shone bright as sunbeams play among the leaves. 
 'I'he captive, of anticij^ations bright. 
 
 On which her glowing fancies often fed. 
 She ill could bear their shading into night ; 
 
 Nor calmly walk where disappointment led : 
 Her pure and gentle soul's perceptive sense 
 
 Recoiled, mimosa-like, from all deceit ; 
 For all her faults her frankness was defense, 
 
 And Helen's changeful mood was mostly sweet.
 
 124 EPIC POEM. 
 
 Sixteen bright summers told her virgin years, 
 
 They most within her childhood's precincts spent, 
 
 Where school-day intercourse which long endears, 
 Thus far had made her opening life content. 
 
 And now we scan the gladsome brother boy, 
 
 Their Robert dear in youth's fair charms arrayed. 
 Whose cheery voice would always waken joy, 
 
 Whose smiles were sunbeams wheresoe'er they played ! 
 He with this band of loving sisters, form 
 
 A bright connecting link, which to dissever 
 Would leave sad traces of a breaking storm 
 
 Around their home's rich shrine of love forever ! 
 O see him bounding gay o'er fence and field. 
 
 With buoyant countenance for some intent ! 
 He stops at times a severed twig to wield 
 
 'Till on the air its wasted force is spent : 
 Before him frolics back and forth his dog. 
 
 He disappears in dells that cross his path. 
 His steps still urging toward a distant bog 
 
 Where huge old trunks have felt the lightning's scathe: 
 Ah ! what impel's the careless creature's course ? 
 
 The sequel shows in day's declining hours — 
 Affection lent his sanguine nature force, 
 
 Presenting to his sisters knots of flowers ! 
 
 Behold bright glimpses of a happy home ! 
 
 Nor grieve that earth is doomed to every ill, 
 But let thy constant faith in God e'er come. 
 
 Each pressing doubt perverted acts instil. 
 Misanthropist ! survey the good that flows 
 
 From weak humanity, by sin beguiled.
 
 MISSION BRIDE. 125 
 
 Nor trample on one hopeful flower that grows 
 
 Within the heart of e'en the basest child ! 
 For when the sun of love its rays imparts, 
 
 The weakest impulse reaching after truth 
 May fill with future raptures, waiting hearts, 
 
 Though seared as by a winter's frost, forsooth ! 
 An isolated mount on whose bald head 
 
 Far scintillating stars benignly gaze, 
 Whose huge foundations were by Cyclops laid 
 
 As stern memorials of mystic days 
 Are monuments of age no more secure 
 
 From Boreas or the flashing bolts of Jove 
 Than is the soul which trusting can endure 
 
 The storm of passion wild, when armed with love ! 
 
 Now glowing suns excite the fruitful soil, 
 
 The farmer wields again the spade and plow ; 
 Merchant and artisan renew their toil — 
 
 See ! Plenty's smiles are o'er the valley now ! 
 Mild Housatonic flows; as when of yore 
 
 The war-plumed Indian swam its lucent tide ; 
 Its surface trembling, glistening o'er and o'er, 
 
 As 'midst its flow the forest shadows glide. 
 
 From the deserted cot across the stile. 
 
 Beyond the village hum, along the brook, 
 Irene's adopted home was scarce a mile, 
 
 And there one summer morn her path she took. 
 One mute companion in her lonely way. 
 
 The faithful dog, whose speaking face surveyed 
 With instinct true and sympathetic play. 
 
 The tearful features of the gentle maid ;
 
 126 EPIC POEM. 
 
 Where thriving shrubs their tangled branches grew . 
 
 Around her once well-pruned, frequented bower, 
 Thoughtful, her measured footsteps slowly drew ; 
 
 For memory awoke with saddening power. 
 Withdrawing from her breast a treasured page, 
 
 She pressed some wild, resisting foliage near 
 To form a couch for rest, there to engage 
 
 A gentle, quiet hour with memories dear. 
 One gloomy year had passed since there she met 
 
 Her plighted Oscar's hope-inspired embrace ; 
 One only message of his love had yet 
 
 Come safely o'er the sea; no other trace 
 Of tidings from the distant island shore ! 
 
 The long, cold silence weighed with crushing art; 
 Alas ! she might behold his face no more — 
 
 So hope deferred was closing round her heart. 
 O, when will love its early hopes resign, 
 
 Or woman's fragile nature cease to weave 
 Illumined dreams with beauties that define 
 
 And mingle images which oft deceive ! 
 
 Behold, a noble drama of this age ! 
 
 The last brave act will soon forever close. 
 Whose stormy scenes and glittering icy stage 
 
 Were laid amid the gloom of Arctic snows ; 
 Aurora Borealis arched the dome. 
 
 And sent its painted changing lustres down 
 To gild the regions of the North-wind's home 
 
 Where Winter never doffs his diamond crown ! 
 These histrionic scenes were long deferred — 
 
 Science her fadeless banner high unfurled ; 
 When noble. Franklin's funeral knell was heard, 
 
 She sent applauding echoes through the world !
 
 MISSION BRIDE. 127 
 
 No gold weighed down the balance, when his fate 
 
 Was undetermined in the lapse of years ; 
 For Lady Franklin, rich in love's estate. 
 
 Still hoped and sought, through all her gloomy fears. 
 A woman true — her tireless efforts prove 
 
 A spectacle for every age, sublime, 
 The eternal constancy of holy love 
 
 That braves the icebergs and the seas of time! 
 
 While carol sweet a choir of tuneful birds. 
 
 And sings the streamlet on its course so free ! 
 As oft before, the maiden cons the words 
 
 Her lover penned across the billowy sea : 
 Then thoughts of him to keener sense awake, 
 
 Mingled with visions of her youthful grief. 
 Till culminating sorrows form and break 
 
 In accents audible and murmurs brief: 
 " My father ! — mother ! — Oscar — Oscar, dear ! 
 
 Oh why, my God, permit me thus to live! 
 I Mw/A/ submit; thy dealings seem severe, 
 
 But give me reconcilement. Father! give: 
 Tliough I am weak, I can, with Heaven's aid, 
 
 Employ my energies for life's true end ; 
 Yet sorrow's shades are 'gainst my hopes arrayed ; 
 
 Relieve me — Thou, the orphan's constant Friend! 
 O grant me, Lord, upon the swaying flood 
 
 That oft engulfs the barks of human strife, 
 A calm reliance, and a i)Ower for good 
 
 Which may invoke the stars of higher life; 
 A prosperous sail, my zenith clear and bright, 
 
 The i)olar star of Truth my faithful guide, 
 A hajjpy haven where in death's cold night
 
 128 EPIC POEM. 
 
 Immortal anchorage I may abide! 
 Great Father ! still I ask thy love and power 
 
 To make my life more useful in its sphere ; 
 To shield my faith in every threatening hour. 
 
 And make my hopes of life eternal clear ! " 
 
 Her trembling lips grew calm ; a holy sense 
 
 Of God's protecting and Almighty will 
 Became her tender spirit's firm defense, 
 
 And promised strength for every future ill. 
 Her steps then wended toward the cot in view; 
 
 Once more she does the lonely lintel cross ; 
 The past — its varied pictures there renew ; 
 
 Her tears are dropped upon the well-curb's moss. 
 Brave heart ! Her recollections rose like forms 
 
 Of supernatural birth ui silent dreams ; 
 As numerous as the summer bee-hive swarms, 
 
 As spray-gems scatter over cascade streams ! 
 
 She walks the garden path ; the broken gate 
 
 No more a barrier, its form conceals 
 'Neath wild exuberance — a weedy state : 
 
 The bushy plat still here and there reveals 
 The serrate leaflets of the damask rose. 
 
 Craving of unpruned nature its consent 
 A few more buds and blossoms to disclose, 
 
 Though on the " desert air " its sweets be spent. 
 She lifts the rusted latchet ; slowly through 
 
 The dusky entry walks and meets chill airs 
 Impregnated with damps and vapors blue ; 
 
 Each room a dim and strange festooning wears, 
 Not made of Gobelin fabric rare and bright,
 
 MISSION BRIDE. 129 
 
 But hung as if in mockery of taste 
 With cobwebs woven in the reahn of night, 
 
 By cunning insects, and in secret traced: 
 She sounds her parents' names in failing tones, 
 
 The lonely walls respond in echoes drear ; 
 The spirit of the blackened chimney moans. 
 
 Producing feelings much allied to fear : 
 So back she passes with one long farewell, 
 
 Resolving ne'er again alone to tread 
 Those precincts shadowed by a brooding spell, 
 
 By mute memorials of the sainted dead ! 
 
 The sun descending faded from the sight 
 
 Behind suspended draperies of cloud ; 
 Birds sought their coverts for the coming night, 
 
 And quiet grew within its mystic shroud. 
 As one by one the trembling stars appear 
 
 To crown with gems th' aerial dome's expanse; 
 The world grows calm, and heaven seems more near, 
 
 And Nature sleeps to wait Aurora's glance. 
 
 This hour the pensive maid was welcomed home 
 
 By anxious watchers in the portals green : 
 " Dear Irene! we're so glad — io glad! you've come ; 
 
 Where have the truant's wandering footsteps been ? " 
 So spake fair H^len : " Father has a guest — 
 
 A student seeking rest an 1 ouatry air ; 
 We wonder who will suit his fancy best — 
 
 It will be you, Irene, I do declare ! 
 He's out with father now, bill his return 
 
 WjU doom his heart to long imprisonment. 
 
 9
 
 I30 EPIC POEM. 
 
 Sweet sister ! why, those tell-tale blushes burn ! 
 Discard your frowns ; I spoke from kind intent. 
 
 here they come. Do, sis ; do look more gay ! 
 Presented to our temporary beau, 
 
 I'm sure before another June or May 
 We shall not call him Mr. So and So, 
 
 But ' Mortimer,' or ' James ' — our brother kind — 
 The spouse of Theodora, or Irene. 
 
 1 do not think him suited to my mind ; 
 
 He seems too thought-abstracted, too serene .' " 
 "Mr. Mortimer! allow me to present 
 
 My dear adopted child : Irene, ottr frie?id, 
 Who with us will remain till summer's spent; 
 
 We hope our happy sympathies may blend." 
 He ceased. In social converse passed the hours ; 
 
 Each sister sang their glad or plaintive songs; 
 Through every open casement, from the flowers 
 
 Crept fragrance richer than to Day belongs. 
 Then came the sacred hour of evening prayer ; 
 
 Each filial heart united with the sire, 
 And trembling up to heaven on the air 
 
 Arose each meek and penitent desire : 
 Then kind good nights in gentle accents said, 
 
 Each wearied one retires in peace to rest ; 
 For no upbraiding conscience, with its dread 
 
 Of justice, lived among those inmates blest. 
 
 Soon in the realm of Moi'pheus, youth and age 
 Are wandering, more charmed with gentle dreams 
 
 Than brightest wakeful fancies e'er engage. 
 
 Than plays the mind with Day's more real themes.
 
 MISSION BRIDE. 131 
 
 Than all the rest, sinks soonest to repose 
 
 Our pensive heroine, awearied most, 
 And, all unconscious how the moonlight glows, 
 
 She wanders on a dark and unknown coast : 
 The roar of many swelhng waves combined 
 
 Sends mournful music o'er the distant leas ; 
 Afar across the waters lone, defined, 
 
 A meteor — a glimmering light she sees ! 
 It sinks, anon it rises from the tide; 
 
 Each time it seems more near, more brightly shines ; 
 Its mystic gleams disclose the ocean wide, 
 
 But far before, no pebbly shore defines ! 
 She stands transfixed, her streaming eyes intent, 
 
 And knows nor what, nor why, the potent charm : 
 Now o'er the waves, the skies are darker bent — 
 
 A strengthening breeze is herald for a storm : 
 Along the lea, among the pine-boughs dark, 
 
 A louder wail is sounding o'er and o'er. 
 More often disappears the meteor's spark, 
 
 The rising tide is sweeping up the shore : 
 Hoarse muttering thunders break and roll away ; 
 
 Bold, angry Tritons rise in self defense, 
 But soon allied, they with the waters play 1 
 
 Neptune's commands betray his ire intense ! 
 'Tis strange no fears assail her courage there ; 
 
 Still firm she stands and all the storm defies, 
 Again beholds the light to leeward bear; 
 
 It comes anear — it rises to the skies ! 
 Then fell the curtains of the land of sleep — 
 
 The maiden opes her wondering eyes to view 
 The calm and starry night — almost to weep 
 
 For visions waking sense would not renew.
 
 132 EPIC POEM. 
 
 The outer world was silent — midnight reigned, 
 
 And through her windows all unshaded fell 
 A flood of silver bloom ; the moon sustained ; 
 
 The hills were guarding every vale and dell ! 
 Soft slumbers soon again her eyelids close 
 
 And more profound, all consciousness was lost, 
 'Till o'er the Eastern heights were sunny glows, 
 
 And shades withdrew as Day the valley crossed. 
 Then first her waking thought ascends above ; 
 
 Refreshed, a beaming hue suffused her cheek; 
 Another morn of life began in love, 
 
 To end m resignation holy, meek. 
 
 Imbued with Christian love, and patriot zeal, 
 
 James Mortimer, a youth possessed of thought, 
 Of mind mature as all his acts reveal. 
 
 For generous deeds his soul intensely \yrought. 
 Life called his mind her purposes to scan — 
 
 For earnest life his every impulse swelled ; 
 He lived for God and blessed his fellow-man, 
 
 While sinful impulse in his soul was quelled. 
 His form was cast in nature's pleasing mould, 
 
 His genial presence shed its warming rays ; 
 No chiseled piety, as marble cold, 
 
 Embound his sphere in gloomy, chilling haze. 
 Rich chesnut hair in waves his brow adorns, 
 
 His eyes, in childhood blue, are hazel-dark, 
 And brilliant as the summer's cloudless morns, 
 
 They mirror forth a deep Promethean spark. 
 Which, sometimes to a loving glance gives place, 
 
 Increasing still the intellectual fire 
 And radiating all his generous face
 
 MISSION BRIDE. 133 
 
 With smiles that make the shades of gloom retire. 
 Controlled by heavenly love, in early youth 
 
 Encouraged by a mother's hopeful prayer, 
 Resolved to preach the everlasting truth, 
 
 Religion was his life — his vital air ! 
 To this great theme his soul forever true, 
 
 It gave his energies unbiased scope ; 
 One noble purpose — kept in constant view — 
 
 To give the untauglit Indian faith and hope! 
 All other plans to this subservient. 
 
 He bowed in reverence at Duty's shrine ; 
 He saw the vengeful Indian repent. 
 
 The Sun of Righteousness around him shine ! 
 His soul responded to the genial flow 
 
 Of life refined, of life's endearments sweet ; 
 The starry coronals that nightly glow. 
 
 The mountain scene with grandeur wild replete. 
 The valley scenery, the river's roll, 
 
 The flowers that smile beneath the sunbeam's kiss, 
 Found warm response within his glowing soul. 
 
 Which thrilled in its own ecstacy of bliss ! 
 
 Each tranquil summer day moved gently on. 
 
 The social circle grew more dear the while; 
 Long ere the lovely August moon was gone 
 
 Did James depend too much on Irene's smile! 
 No harsh reproofs bestowed by either tongue, 
 
 Unmindful of the world's corroding strife, 
 They joined the pleasant jjastimes of the young — 
 
 Mild Samuel Ray and Martha his good wife. 
 With books and flowers pure 'i'heodora charmed, 
 
 Irene was pensive, gentle, ever kind;
 
 134 EPIC POEM. 
 
 With wit and song gay Helen's art disarmed 
 
 All threatening shades that might o'ercast the mind 
 Bright Robert was a glad and witching spell ; 
 
 He laughed exultant as he proudly told 
 Of strange exploit in thicket, stream or dell, 
 
 When chasing fox or squirrel long and bold! 
 Intuitive, Irene began to feel 
 
 The glance of Mortimer's admiring eyes ; 
 It told of love, as prisms will reveal 
 
 The rainbow wreath that in one sunbeam lies ! 
 Could she repulse the light, and be to him 
 
 A shadowed heart ? — She was to Oscar true. 
 But his dear love appeared so far, and dim, 
 
 And none around her cherished secret knew ! 
 
 One evening wandering in the river vale — 
 
 Irene and Mortimer — they paused to rest 
 Beneath an elm, whose foliage was pale 
 
 With silver rained from Luna's cloudless crest ; 
 " My path is soon to wind afar from thine — 
 
 Ere long I hasten hence by duty's call ; 
 Allow me, dear — dear girl to call thee mine. 
 
 Before the shades of separation fall ! 
 Irene ! respond — the chalice of ray life 
 
 Replenish with thy love so sweet and pure ! 
 Oh, wilt thou be a missionary's wife ? 
 
 Speak, dearest ! speak, and my fond hopes ensure ! 
 My destiny to dwell from friends apart, 
 
 No life of splendid ease can I afford ; 
 But is not thy pure consecrated heart 
 
 Desirous thus to work and serve the Lord ? 
 Far, far away, near Mississippi's flood.
 
 MISSION BRIDE. 135 
 
 I go ere long through His supporting grace ; 
 Within the old, uncultured, haunted wood, 
 To teach the yet untutored savage race ! 
 
 noble thought ! The mists may be dispelled 
 That draped the Indian mind in tiines grown old, 
 
 Which have a stern and dark dominion held 
 
 While Superstition kept the mental fold ! 
 A glorious view — emancipated mind ! 
 
 A soul wherein a pure religion burns; 
 Humanity, and Heaven's high love combined ! 
 
 Toward such an end my life submissive turns ; 
 So tell me, love — Irene — wilt thou be mine ? 
 
 A lonely missionary's willing bride ! 
 
 1 love thee, and my love shall always shine. 
 Though parted be our path, forever, wide !" 
 
 He ceased : In gentle accents she began : 
 
 " Dear sir, your preference produces pain ; 
 A noble friend, I prize you, but the plan 
 
 Of life discerned by me does not contain 
 A union with thy name and earnest lite. 
 
 Save pleasant memories of moments flown ; 
 I cannot, sir, become your loyal wife. 
 
 Another. claims my hand, my heart his own." 
 
 "Am I mistaken? Can it be, Irene? 
 
 How has my captive love been thus misled ? 
 No token given me in thy passive mien. 
 
 Of promise, other happier love to wed ? 
 I blame thee not, but of tliat generous pain 
 
 In future years, I'll tiiink — sweet care — thine own! 
 My sacrificial cup in patience drain. 
 
 My mission path pursue, alone — alone !
 
 136 EPIC POEM. 
 
 Another life shall help me realise 
 
 That mystic union of congenial hearts; 
 I'll never faint, but work to win the prize 
 
 Of love a future realm of bliss imparts ; 
 The savage ire shall see me yet unquailed, 
 
 His dark rebuff shall never dim my sight ; 
 My Saviour's strength, whene'er by sin assailed, 
 
 Shall poise my soul above the demon's night! 
 Farewell, sweet girl ! betore the blush of dawn, 
 
 Before Apollo's smile shall gild the dew, 
 And ere thy slippered feet shall press the lawn, 
 
 I leave this mansion and its inmates true! 
 Farewell, Irene! it may not be forever! 
 
 But, dearest, 'twill — it must be said ior years — 
 Deep sinks the arrow from the Indian's quiver — 
 
 Deep in my soul has sunk thy pitying tears ! 
 God bless thee, dearest ! Love's pure offering, 
 
 The kind impulses of a heart like thine 
 Can never back upon its giver fling : 
 A dia77i07id, though concealed, forgets not how to shine / ' 
 
 " Hail, mystic Night ! Time's reaching strand 
 Bounds iar away thy shadowy land, 
 Where all the Future's pregnant days 
 Sleep, warmed with Hope's half latent rays ! 
 
 Float on unseen, ye soundless airs. 
 While Night her sable drapery wears ; 
 Vibrate from mountain height to dell, 
 And cradle still the fancy's spell ! 
 
 Ye rivulets, in soft emprise. 
 
 While now ye meet from Dian's eyes
 
 MISSION BRIDE. 137 
 
 A tide of lustres dreaming down, 
 Through quiet shades move stiller on ! 
 
 While Nature's lieart is mute like death, 
 Ye leafy branches, wake no breath. 
 Nor let your birdling brood prolong 
 Aloud one dreamy note of song! 
 
 Ye living forms, in slumbers play, 
 Oblivious breathe the hours away ; 
 Like ice-concealed, still-moving streams, 
 Sleep through your unremembered dreams! 
 
 Hail, mystic Night ! Tiiy soothing care, 
 Thy gentle shades, what soul would spare? 
 Congenial with my pensive moods 
 Are thy subduing solitudes ! " 
 
 Thus Mortimer at midnight mused, alone 
 
 Before his casement, while the glimmering stars 
 Illumed the darkened pathway of the moon. 
 
 Shut in by the horizon's dusky bars. 
 Now leave him ; from Glendale he wends his way; 
 
 'Tis sad, with tender recollections fraught, 
 But pure Religion's sweet, consoling ray 
 
 Pervades the gloom by disa[jpointment wrought. 
 
 A summer moon had raised her shining head 
 Above the forest, by bright Phoebus led ; 
 A thousand locusts beat their winglets thin, 
 And chirping crickets mingled in the din ; 
 While nameless insects symphonies prolong. 
 And katydids unite their constant song.
 
 138 EPIC POEM. 
 
 Afar the woodlands trill the tree-toad's notes, 
 
 And " Whip-poor-will" o'er marsh and meadow floats; 
 
 But to return — a night so musical 
 
 Shed peace on all the dwellers of the vale, 
 
 And though each heart, mayhap, some grief concealed, 
 
 Few shadows of the face the truth revealed. 
 
 " Irene ! dreaming here alone ! 
 
 I have sought you, round and round ; 
 I've a letter for your eye — 
 Is it worth a pin or pound ? 
 
 ♦ 
 
 Kiss me — that 'tis worth I know ! 
 
 Came it o'er the ocean far. 
 As the superscriptions show ? 
 
 Irene, sis, how strange you are ! 
 
 Never tell us aught about 
 
 Lover true across the sea ; 
 Of a gallant knight away. 
 
 Seeking deeds of chivalry ! " 
 
 Thus gamboled Helen ; but a heart unstrung. 
 Unburdened hitherto, breaks forth to weep ; 
 
 Upon her happy sister's breast she flung 
 
 Sorrows which then no longer seemed to sleep. 
 
 A tempest in the soul ! No rising storm 
 
 Of subtle forces and material thmgs. 
 When all their latent power combine to form 
 
 A warring compact with their hoary kings,
 
 MISSION BRIDE. i39 
 
 Creates a state so unexplained as this ; 
 
 When man, the mystery, no more controls 
 The secret stairway to the halls of bliss. 
 
 Or portals to the sorrows of the soul ! 
 
 " O sister, dear ! I fear some dreadful ill ! 
 
 The superscription is not his 1 love ; 
 Go bring a light— do, Helen, if you will! " 
 
 The maiden went, as light as cloudlets move. 
 
 The seal was broken, and the page outspread ; 
 
 She quivered o'er each fearful coming word ; 
 They told a woful tale — " My Oscar dead ! " 
 
 The paper falls, her failing tones unheard. 
 
 They bore her to a couch ; around her pressed 
 Each one, to learn the truth almost afraid : 
 
 Like wounded dove, by tender hearts caressed. 
 She seemed beneath her sorrow's closing shade. 
 
 Contented in the paths the patriarchs trod. 
 
 His daily lite religion's vital air ; 
 The pitying sire, the humble man of God, 
 
 Retired meanwhile for sui)|jlicating i)rayer. 
 
 Again he sought the couch of mental pain, 
 Where pallid, senseless, lies their dear Irene ; 
 
 The sisters from their sobs can scarce refrain, 
 And Robert weeps behind the curtain screen. 
 
 " My children ! calm these fears — not so despair; 
 
 Irene will rise above this sudden grief: 
 We'll watch the orphan with more loving care ; 
 
 Her suffering, through the Lord is only brief.
 
 I40 EPIC POEM. 
 
 The dear, unfortunate, devoted child 
 
 Has kept a secret, ah ! too long, too well ; 
 
 I'll read the page." He then withdrew awhile 
 And conned the letter while his tear-drops fell. 
 
 The aged laird and ruler of Glenwayn, 
 
 A proud but gentle Scot, had thus addressed 
 
 His brother's child, betrothed to Oscar, Thane 
 Of all his sire's domains in right possessed. 
 
 *' Dear daughter, ofifspring of our sacred land ! 
 Though born in foreign clime, we call thee ours ; 
 * I fain would trace for thee a brighter tale — 
 Heaven give thee strength : A blow divine 
 Has well nigh laid my trembling form in dust ! 
 My boy! my noble boy, in manhood clothed, 
 I felt the prop of my declining years : 
 I looked with joy to that glad hour when he 
 Should bring to Scotia's vales a heart refined 
 By love and truth — a scion of our stock. 
 Alas, it ne'er can be ! my fondest hopes 
 Are cradled in the dust. My Oscar lives 
 No more ! Upon his brow of thought death has 
 Its signet set ; his pulse has ceased to shake 
 The quivering chords of Nature's harp, to thrill 
 His manly frame ! 
 
 O God ! Is this thy will, 
 That I should feel such loneliness of death ! 
 Should weep in furrowed age till tears like ice-drops 
 Hang upon my cheeks.? Oscar! My son! 
 I would lay down this worthless life to bring 
 Thee back to earth ! — that thine might fill
 
 MISSION BRIDE. 141 
 
 Another's cup of joy! 
 
 O God ! heal up 
 The breach in my lone heart — by thy pure self! 
 Do thou increase my trembling love for thee ! 
 Show me, through Faith's entrancing glass, the land 
 Which Oscar treads, and leave upon my heart 
 The sweet assurance of that hope which dried 
 The widow's tears ! 
 
 Dear girl ! more truly dear 
 For that sweet love thou bearest my noble boy, 
 Listen, while I recount thy Oscar's fate: 
 Commissioned for his king, the royal George, 
 To bear dispatthes to a Highland laird, 
 He traced the strath that leads to Argyle's hills 
 With manly step fearless and strong, when lo ! 
 Loch Lomond, darkened as by sudden night, 
 Vailed its bright sheen as though afraid to meet 
 The frowning face of the approaching storm. 
 The wind-god hushed to silence every breeze ; 
 Anon the sturdy pines upon the hill tops shook 
 And quivered in the stillness, surging clouds 
 Were darkly gathered o'er the vale, a blast, 
 A scathing, sheeting flame sweeps o'er the lake, 
 The hills, illuming all the country round I 
 Amid this awful scene my Oscar fell 
 A blackened corse. 
 
 We laid him down to rest 
 Within his own domain : Narcissus blooms, 
 And pale low asphodels in spring may smile, 
 As gowans nature planted, blossom round 
 His grave, and willows o'er it weep. 
 
 My child!
 
 142 EPIC POEM. 
 
 I bid thee now farewell, and trust thy life, 
 Thy young and loving heart, thy tender grief, 
 To Him who doeth all things well." 
 
 Recovering slowly from a bed of pain, 
 
 Awakened from the fever's burning grasp, 
 Irene looked on the smiling world again, 
 
 And caught the autumn flow'rets in her clasp. 
 A thoughtful child, e'en from her infant days. 
 
 Losing so early all she held most dear; 
 When wedded love withheld its promised rays, 
 
 It left her saddened being strong and clear; 
 And though the lingering months their shadows cast, 
 
 And moments came when life had little charm ; 
 She lived in patience till the year Avas past. 
 
 Till shone anew the vernal sunbeams warm. 
 
 The gentle orphan led a pensive life, 
 
 A life where duty's task became a rule ; 
 She now begins a teacher's arduous strife 
 
 And finds her sphere within the village school : 
 Each dewy morn her cheerful footsteps sought 
 
 An humble temple reared among the hills. 
 Directing hour by hour increasing thought — 
 
 As days roll by the truth its life instills. 
 " Serener than a star on Twilight's breast," 
 
 Her placid soul, by sorrow purified. 
 Reflected in its deep expansive rest 
 
 A chastened love, to Heaven's own peace allied.
 
 MISSION BRIDE. 143 
 
 The inward record of one human breast 
 
 On which the staring world may never gaze, 
 Sometimes convulsed, in sacred peace may rest 
 
 While outward storms wild tumults round it raise ! 
 So lived Irene, and calmly saw her youth 
 
 Advance in shaded and subduing light 
 To meet the vigor of maturing truth, 
 
 As morning rays accept the noonday bright; 
 Thus flowers give fragrance sweeter in the shade 
 
 Which on the evening breezes borne away, 
 Inspire the distant dell, or piney glade. 
 
 As Memory's sweetness charms our pensive way. 
 
 A summer day was near its hushing close, 
 
 A fleecy panoply half vailed the West ; 
 Soft zephyrs whispered to the sleeping rose, 
 
 And fanned the fainting lily's snowy crest : 
 The clouds were painted with a hundred dyes ; 
 
 Some caught the fiery sunset's lingering flame, 
 And some, the silver of the noonday skies, 
 
 Commingling sapphires of the daylight's wane ! 
 
 While slowly fell her steps along the plain, 
 Released from toil and mentally at rest. 
 
 Beauty and Nature in their charming train 
 Received responses from the teacher's breast. 
 
 'Twas here among New England's vales 
 Where soft descend the mountain gales, 
 Where pathways wind green plots around, 
 And dells and hill-sides mark the bound
 
 144 EPIC POEM. 
 
 Of busy hamlets light and gay, 
 Where thrift and enterprise display 
 The features of an active race 
 Destined in history to grace 
 The brightest page of life's fair scroll, 
 As age on age the sheets unroll ; 
 Here stood the free, the active man, 
 Dissenting Scot or Puritan, 
 For life, for death, himself a host. 
 Just what New England now can boast ! 
 Whate'er his purposes engage. 
 Reveals a bright Saturnian age ; 
 The stream of thrift abundant flows, 
 And woodlands blossom as the rose ; 
 Such is the favored spot, Glendale, 
 And we resume our rhythmic tale. 
 
 One fair departing summer day. 
 She met a stranger on her way, 
 As home she traced the village lawn. 
 With step elastic as the fawn ; 
 A gentle step of perfect grace. 
 The rose of health upon her face. 
 Which seemed by Nature made to smile, 
 Though grief had left its trace the while : 
 The stranger, proud in mien, surveyed 
 With covert look the village maid ; 
 His garb was rich — his agile form 
 Betoicened strength and nature warm ; 
 He drew more near, with pace more slow, 
 And more' admired her brow of snow; 
 While she with quick, averted gaze
 
 MISSION BRIDE. 145 
 
 Looked toward the sunset's ruddy rays 
 Which fell upon the wayside flowers, 
 The clover meads and daisy bowers, 
 And lit them for the fairy's dance, 
 Before the noon of night's advance. 
 Irene passed by with quicker pace ; 
 He bowed with low, habitual grace. 
 Which she with cool reserve returned, 
 While warm her cheeks with flushes burned; 
 Then hastening, gained her peaceful home 
 While Luna sought the ether-dome, 
 And limpid dews prepared to shine 
 At morn on elm and eglantine, 
 To crystallate each floral crown. 
 And bind the wings of thistle-down. 
 
 The pleasant cheer of evening passed, 
 
 The drooping sense was early clasjjed 
 
 In slumber's soft, mysterious arms; 
 
 Her mind, in search of dreamy charms, 
 
 Conceived a paradise its own. 
 
 And made its deepest music known 
 
 To memory, whose failing task 
 
 Gave not to morning what it asked ! 
 
 When airy waves of rising day 
 
 Far o'er the hill-tops swept their way. 
 
 She woke with one sweet dream retained. 
 
 Which o'er the reveries long maintained 
 
 Remembrance sweet, delightful, clear 
 
 As innocence' pellucid tear : 
 
 With heavenly purpose pure and mild. 
 
 An angel mother o'er her child 
 
 10
 
 146 EPIC POEM. 
 
 Bent down in atmosphere so bright 
 It made the walls a bloom of light ! 
 With silvery wings that oft unfurled 
 Their radiance in the starry world, 
 And kiss ethereal, she conveyed 
 Unearthly raptures to the maid ! 
 A voice with notes of song divine 
 Gave human hope a new design ; 
 Her gracious words of love and truth 
 Seemed born of sinless spirit-youth ! 
 
 At morn her happy steps go forth 
 
 With cheerful hope, in duty's path; 
 
 The stranger, lo ! appears again, 
 
 Whose careful gaze betokens plain 
 
 The object of his morning search; 
 
 She turns within a copse of birch. 
 
 Across a brook — the hour of nine 
 
 Sends loud and clear the school-bell's chime ; 
 
 Now rosy urchins hide their balls, 
 
 And in the bag the marble falls ; 
 
 The rings break up from play and song, 
 
 And o'er the threshold rush the throng ; 
 
 Across the lintel sunlight streams 
 
 And slowly marks the mid-day's beams. 
 
 Then joyous bounding o'er the meads, 
 
 Each buoyant footstep homeward leads. 
 
 'Twas not the teacher's happy fate 
 
 To reach again the pastor's gate 
 
 Till thus, with etiquette polite, 
 
 Accosted her the pseudo knight : . 
 
 ** Good day, fair Miss ! this liberty
 
 MISSION MRIDE. 147 
 
 Allow, a stranger though to thee ! 
 My name, Stelthair de Forest Wiles, 
 Well known your townsman Dr. Giles : 
 The Virgin State contains my home; 
 For health and rest abroad I roam ; 
 Thou knowest well a stranger's claim, 
 For ' stranger is a holy name ! ' " 
 
 Irene's kind favor almost won. 
 She bowed assent with gentle tone ; 
 Then pleasant chat beguiled the way, 
 Till by the home of Samuel Ray 
 The stranger bade a soft " good day." 
 
 At -eve Irene her sister seeks 
 And of her late adventure speaks : 
 Fair Helen's joyous mirth breaks out 
 With many a gay and ringing shout : 
 " I'll vie with you — I'll win the prize 
 And woo the wooer in disguise : 
 He shall not know until too late 
 That I'm nor passive, nor sedate ; 
 When sure his heart is fairly won, 
 Some luckless moment I'll be gone ! 
 Yes, like a bird escaped its cage, 
 I'll sing and fly his espionage; 
 Then from his dream he will awake — 
 His heart may feel but never break!" 
 
 *' O sister dear ! Your speech is vain^ 
 Such foolish impulse do restrain 1 
 'Tis meet a stranger here receive 
 Politeness due — we may believe
 
 148 EPIC POEM. 
 
 His tale — his frankness must be true — 
 'Twas Dr. Giles he said he knew — 
 And surely we may thus presume, 
 Nor uselessly our time consume : 
 Come let us sing, this tender hour. 
 So sweetly breathes each leaf and flower, 
 While calmly rises in the East 
 Fair Dian's hallowed silver crest." 
 
 SONG. 
 
 All nature owns the Power divine 
 
 Who gives us life and love ! 
 O see the tranquil glories shine, 
 
 The peaceful world above ! 
 The far eternal lustrous stars 
 
 Whose thrones are endless space. 
 Which even through the cloud's grey bars 
 
 Disclose ethereal grace ! 
 
 So let our voices move in praise — 
 
 Let sinless raptures wake 
 The glorious dreams of other days 
 
 And of their bliss partake ! 
 Immortal spirits ! grateful own 
 
 Jehovah's gracious will. 
 And bow in awe before the Throne — 
 
 While passions slumber still ! 
 
 Kind reader, would you know the man, 
 With power his secret soul to scan — 
 The purpose, be it good or ill, 
 His inner being would fulfill ?
 
 MISSION BRIDE. 149 
 
 We may not draw the fleshly vail, 
 Discerning all the serpent's trail ; 
 But as in nature we behold 
 Creation's tracks — impressions old— 
 In misty times, before began 
 The Eden-life and sin of man; 
 In coral periods far remote 
 When lime-mosaics were afloat 
 In myriads of polished shells, 
 Which drank from ocean's briny wells ; 
 So keen perception oft may trace 
 The heart's deep history on the face — 
 An index true which Nature owns 
 Imprinted on its facial tomes ! 
 
 Stelthair de Wiles lived not apart 
 From those possessing purer heart ; 
 He was net old, nor scarcely young, 
 Yet skilled in grace and gentle tongue : 
 His slender form and shoulders high, 
 Dark, dreamy, but delusive eye; 
 His narrow brow, and coal-tinged hair, 
 And thin pale cheeks — as maiden's fair, 
 With most decided shaven chin. 
 And coral lips, designed to win 
 An unsuspecting kiss, or mould 
 Attractive words with meaning cold — 
 His sensibility a mask, 
 To understand him were a task. 
 
 Where " Old Dominion" mountains rear 
 Their brows to meet the tempests' clieer, 
 When rushing from Atlantic's shore
 
 ISO EPIC POEM. 
 
 Sublimely grand their tumults roar 
 And break their currents down the hill 
 To whistle in the valley shrill, 
 To penetrate in cedar shade 
 And serenade each flowery glade ; 
 Where wild Monongahela winds, 
 And many a green encircling binds, 
 A rude old house of dingy stone 
 Afar from hamlet stood alone, 
 Whose smoky gables frowned forlorn — 
 'Twas there Stelthair De Wiles was born. 
 
 Wild as the region of his birth. 
 He early longed to roam the earth ; 
 With native impulse, passion fed. 
 The pastoral life his father led 
 Conduced to irritate within 
 His undeveloped love of sin : 
 This in the guise of self-deceit 
 Made all forbidden pleasures sweet. 
 His glowing mind was quick and bright 
 With fickle, ever-changing light 
 Of dreams uncertain fancy wrought, 
 Induced by cherished sinful thought. 
 
 Earth's rich alluvial virgin soil 
 
 Pours in the lap of patient toil 
 
 Her cereal treasures life to sate — 
 
 To gladden natures animate, 
 
 And smiles with flowers and fruits more gay 
 
 Than fields uncultured e'er display : 
 
 'Tis so with mind, in early youth
 
 MISSION BRIDE. 151 
 
 If error dims the sun of truth, 
 And loose and dank the passions start, 
 Enveloping the yielding heart, 
 Where mouldy atmospheres of sin 
 Send back the pure to rust within. 
 
 But let us leave this moral strain, 
 And trace our sequel on amain : 
 ^Vhile moons were numbering away, 
 De Wiles prolonged his artful stay 
 At church, at home — in every place — 
 He won respeet; his studied grace ; 
 In gay assemblies — song or dance — 
 Charmed every beauty with his glance. 
 And all the maidens vied to please 
 The stranger knight so well at ease. 
 In social gatherings more sedate. 
 His flashing wit made all elate ; 
 In every scene his presence shared, 
 Irene received his marked regard. 
 And gossip with its tongues of hate 
 Whispered aloud the orphan's fate! 
 
 Then Samuel Ray, with care began 
 The stranger's character to scan : 
 " I fear, dear child, your loving trust 
 Is placed in one whose words are dust. 
 Which even now begins to rise 
 To dim the radiance of your skies! 
 Ay, more ; I fear the gathering cloud 
 Surcliarged with ruin's thunders loud. 
 Which not like summer showers past
 
 152 EPIC POEM. 
 
 Reveal the sun more bright, may cast 
 O'er all your future life a gloom 
 More dread than hung o'er Oscar's tomb f 
 " You cannot love, for woe, or weal 
 Him, who your innocence would steal ; 
 I see no charm in Wiles to win 
 A heart like yours ! His life of sin 
 Seen through the guise I well can mark, 
 'Tis stamped upon his visage dark : 
 Be sure Irene, there's much concealed — 
 Much that his words have not revealed ! 
 And hear me now ere yet too late — 
 Risk not your peace to such a fate ! " 
 
 While tear-drops coursed adown her cheek, 
 
 Irene replied in accents meek : 
 
 " Dear father, such to me you are, 
 
 I thank you for your tender care ; 
 
 Perchance my seeming thoughtless way 
 
 Has led your watchful mind astray. 
 
 For is not all my holy love 
 
 Still consecrate to him above ! 
 
 Can I forget my Oscar ! No ! 
 
 The noiseless stream has deepest flow ; 
 
 But must my life be one dark day 
 
 Unsunned by love's sweet beaming ray, 
 
 Except the light which this sweet home 
 
 So genial sheds ? And must I roam 
 
 The tangled dells and damps of Earth, 
 
 Where ne'er the flowers of truth have birth ? 
 
 Or must I never love a friend ? 
 
 And have I failed to comprehend
 
 MISSION BRIDE. 153 
 
 In friendship's smile a cold disguise — 
 
 The artifice of gentle lies ! 
 
 No course except what you commend 
 
 Shall aid me e'en to choose a friend ; 
 
 'Tis less than friendship, father dear, 
 
 De Wiles can claim — dismiss your fear ! " 
 
 The pastor spoke : " Irene, my child, 
 I fear 'tis love has you beguiled — 
 Beguiled before you know its power 
 To nestle in that sacred bower 
 Of calm and trustful innocence — 
 Your youthful heart ! 
 You ask if you must ever roam 
 The tangled dells of life alone. 
 And through its crooked pathways glide 
 Without a friend to love and guide ! 
 No, no ! my dear adopted child : 
 Your mother on her death-bed smiled 
 When to my tender care she gave 
 Her only child, one boon to crave 
 From Heaven — her last, sincere desire 
 That I might wisely watch the fire 
 Of love that in your soul must burn, 
 Might teach your heart to prize and learn 
 The pure and holy ways of truth 
 Instilled so deeply in your youth — 
 Might watch with close, parental care. 
 And save you from the tempter's snare. 
 I promised this in hopeful trust 
 Before the dust returned to dust — 
 Before thy mother's spirit riven
 
 154 EPIC POEM. 
 
 Had found its way to God and heaven. 
 Irene, review the past with care, 
 Escape the serpent's wily snare ! 
 Search deep your latent heart-throbs true, 
 And all your thoughts and acts review ; 
 Then, on the morrow let me know 
 The source whence your emotions flow." 
 
 Irene retired with prayerful thought. 
 And Heaven's kind direction sought : 
 The morn its ruddy glow unfurled 
 And called to life the sleeping world : 
 The maid with healthful beauty blest 
 Her loving guardian thus addressed : 
 " De Wiles has surely thrown a light 
 Around my pathway clear and bright, 
 And from my mind has chased the gloom 
 That chained my being to the tomb ! 
 His mind intelligent — his thought 
 With gleams of glowing beauty fraught. 
 His comprehensive sympathy, 
 And sensitive philosophy, 
 With all their pure, exquisite sense 
 Of nature's life, has e'en commenced 
 ■An answermg response in me — 
 It may be love, I plainly see ; 
 And though I cannot yet believe 
 He can so artfully deceive. 
 Cautious I'll be in every word ; 
 He shall not know how deeply stirred 
 My longing life by him has been — 
 My friendship I can yet restrain."
 
 MISSION BRIDE. 155 
 
 Then — from that day she grew reserved 
 And watched to see if he deserved 
 Her confidence : she studied well, 
 And thus began to fade the spell — 
 The mask gave way like silver film 
 Of cloud at noon ; the truth less dim 
 Reflected from her own pure soul, 
 Revealed his passion's base control. 
 Less delicate, he now betrayed 
 Despite his art, that, for the maid 
 No high communion of the mind, 
 No noble love had he designed ; 
 And soon the hollow pretense came : 
 A " depth of love " — aroused to flame — 
 " Eternal coustaucy" and '■^pure 
 Soul-worship" begged he to secure 
 For " Sweet Irene " — his "pearl of price " 
 His" peri formed for paradise ! " 
 
 She gave him gentle, firm decline ; 
 Her heart was still "content to shine 
 In simple spheres where duty led," 
 Her " love of love was with the dead." 
 
 There was no power to thus appease 
 A passion seeking but to please 
 Its own vile sense, the more allured 
 With purity it deemed secured. 
 Exulting in the reign of power, 
 Infernal for one guilty hour ! 
 With mock control and formal art 
 He bowed, and, rising to depart —
 
 156 EPIC POEM. 
 
 *' Once more we meet before the day 
 Already fixed to end my stay ; 
 For here your smile, against my will, 
 Has kept me long and longer still ; 
 I'm sure you'd not with specious art, 
 Deceptive, win to spurn my heart ! 
 Good evening, Miss! You will regret, 
 And take me back to favor yet ! " 
 
 Pursuing still her even way 
 
 The village teacher sought each day 
 
 Her routine in the school-house brown, 
 
 Regardles of her suitor's frown. 
 
 One day when tripping o'er the plain, 
 
 De Forest's gaze she met again : 
 
 My love ! I came in search of you, 
 
 My fond confession to renew ! 
 
 Has not your gentle heart repealed 
 
 The cruel verdict lately sealed ? 
 
 I know you love vie — answer, yes ! 
 
 Let those sweet lips the truth confess ! 
 
 Irene! be mistress of my bower — 
 
 Its rare exotic, queenly flower ! 
 
 Let no barbarian tendrils dare 
 
 Embrace my rose, njy peerless fair ! 
 
 Sit down upon the velvet grass 
 
 And bless the breezes as they pass ! 
 
 Come, love, sweet darling ! angel ! come ! 
 
 No more from your adorer roam." 
 
 Surprised, perplexed, she failed reply 
 
 And drooped her trank and thoughtful eye ; 
 
 Her silence proved a faithless guide—
 
 ICIISSION BRIDE. 157 
 
 He sprang unto the maiden's side ; 
 
 Then conscious (lignity awoke — 
 
 No more delay — she promptly spoke: 
 
 " You once commanded my esteem, 
 
 I once believed you what you seem, 
 
 But now your true design I know, 
 
 You'll please me most to leave me — go ; 
 
 /'// tarry not—0\i ! Helen Ray ! * 
 
 I'm glad you've wandered forth this way ! 
 
 Your company just now I prize" — 
 
 While speaking, Helen's piercing eyes 
 
 Looked on De Wiles, who almost quailed ; 
 
 A guilty consciousness assailed 
 
 His sense, before the pure and bright, 
 
 As Satan shuns the realms of light ; 
 
 With rage depict, the waning day 
 
 Beheld his footsteps turn away ; 
 
 His flashing eye of serpent kin 
 
 Proclaimed the passion power within ; 
 
 As when a lion's dashing leap 
 
 Beholds his cherished-prey escape. 
 
 With angry growl he seeks his lair, 
 
 So felt the guilty, dark Stelthair ! 
 
 The afternoon was calm and clear, 
 
 The maidens fair, devoid of fear, 
 
 Their pathway sought along the way 
 
 To the sweet home of Samuel Ray. 
 
 Peace brooded o'er the gentle world. 
 
 Blue smoke-wreaths o'er the hamlet curled, 
 
 And round it wound the river slow, 
 
 Helen at that moment appeared in view.
 
 158 EPIC POEM. 
 
 As gathering winds began to blow ; 
 
 The sinking sun, far in the West, 
 
 Behind a cloud concealed his crest ; 
 
 And darkly rose a shadowy vail, 
 
 That upward spread its cloudy sail ; 
 
 Now hoarse, low thunders break, and tell 
 
 Of August day's disturbed farewell. 
 
 And lightnings flashing through the sky 
 
 Proclaim the showery torrents nigh ; 
 
 Pedestrians urge their pace to gain 
 
 A shelter from the approaching rain, 
 
 The horsemen house with care their steeds, 
 
 The chickens hide among the weeds, 
 
 The locusts' din no more is heard 
 
 Nor trills the singing wood-land bird. 
 
 All, all is hushed — the storm -king reigns 
 
 O'er village, mount — o'er glades and plains ; 
 
 In one dear home of green Glendale, 
 
 Within this happy Eden vale, 
 
 The lightning's flash, the thunder's roar, 
 
 Points to a far, far distant shore, 
 
 Reveals a scene where early fell 
 
 One loved so dearly — loved so well ! 
 
 But where is Stelthair Forest now ? 
 Maturing a revengeful vow. 
 " Shall I endure her maiden scorn ? 
 Was I to such dishonor born ? 
 Not from an angel would Stelthair 
 Such vain contempt accept and bear ! 
 She yet must feel that man has power 
 To crush as well as love a flower !
 
 MISSION BRIDE. 159 
 
 The prize I've sought with care intent, 
 Wliich hope had with my being blent, 
 Shall not escape like subtle air, 
 Or morning dreams that promise fair ! 
 I'll seek her bower to-morrow night 
 When Luna curtains off her light ; 
 With firm, unalterable will, 
 Afy siveet revenge Vll then fulfill — 
 Unless the arch enchantress yield 
 To love persuasive, unconcealed / 
 I have it — yes / my certain aim 
 Shall quench that life, that living flame. 
 And not imploring eyes shall quail 
 My nerve, or make my purpose fail ! 
 Then, Honor ! thou art bright as now, 
 Stelthair recants no vengeful vow ! " 
 
 Hours pass, but dangers linger near; 
 
 Her slumbers broken ; conscious fear 
 
 Awakes within, till prayer has soothed 
 
 Her mind, to seek its dreamy food. 
 
 She slumbers: o'er her swelling breast 
 
 The moonbeams steal to give attest 
 
 To fairer beauty on her brow, 
 
 And make the shadows wonder how 
 
 The lilies left the soft parterre 
 
 To smile on sleeping beauty there ! 
 
 Soft airs are through the casement breathing, 
 
 And round it sheltering vines are wreathing ; 
 
 No voice abroad can thought discern. 
 
 And still th' ethereal asters burn ; 
 
 There's rest in all that happy home,
 
 i6o EPIC POEM. 
 
 There's silence in the garden bloom ; 
 She starts — one snowy hand is o'er 
 Her scattered tresses flung, before 
 Her sleeping eyes the other prest 
 In momentary half unrest, 
 But all again is calm and still 
 As icy chains can bind a rill. 
 
 The vines are torn aside — he creeps 
 
 Stealthy before he noiseless leaps, 
 
 And by the helpless form of youth 
 
 He stands — the shame of blushing Truth ! 
 
 Oh base, deceitful, erring man I 
 
 No mortal eye has power to scan 
 
 The demon kindred of thy heart ; 
 
 But soon Remorse, with poison dart. 
 
 Shall pierce the mask, and doom thy life 
 
 To phantom visions of the knife. 
 
 And murder's living, clamorous stain 
 
 Shall seek its duplicate to gain. 
 
 No more to thee this beauteous earth 
 
 Be fraught with beauty's heavenly worth ! 
 
 The tranquil, starry dome above ; 
 
 The moon, approver mild of love, 
 
 The shimmering river, and the breeze 
 
 Which night has quickened 'mong the trees, 
 
 And evening incense of the flowers, 
 
 Are thy reproach for future hours ; 
 
 Within the dungeon of thy mind, 
 
 Still chained, thy hopes shall be confined !
 
 MISSION BRIDE. i6i 
 
 He dares disturb her angel dreams, 
 
 He smothers all her rising screams, 
 
 And closes every source of breath 
 
 Till nature yields in silent death ; 
 
 Then bears away her fainting form 
 
 With strength derived from passion's storm. 
 
 He passed the lawn beyond the well, 
 
 The garden where strange shadows fell 
 
 From hoary elms, that frowned more stern 
 
 As seemed their boughs the crime to learn ! 
 
 He stops : his burden down beside 
 
 The noiseless river's limpid tide 
 
 He lays. The stiflings* disappear; 
 
 But hark ! He lists ! there's footsteps near ! 
 
 His purpose quickening, passion foul 
 
 Gives force to nerve, and strength to soul : 
 
 Revenge ! his purpose bathed in blood, 
 
 Now plunged his victim in the flood ! 
 
 " 'Tis done ! " half audibly he said ; 
 
 A moment more and he had fled ! 
 
 He thought to find the thickest shades, 
 
 But scarcely reached the upland glades 
 
 When sometliing held his footsteps back — 
 
 A deathly phantom on his track ! 
 
 We leave him now ; his guilty soul 
 
 In vengeance deep shall writhe and roll. 
 
 The life had not become extinct ; 
 The brain, though still, had power to think : 
 The arm of God had fettered back 
 Destruction's arrow on her track. 
 
 ' Stiflings. Things used for stopping the breath. 
 1 1
 
 i62 EPIC POEM. 
 
 That footstep, heard, had reached the place, 
 And in the moonhght clearly traced 
 The murder foul — the death extreme ! — 
 When, plunging in the rolling stream, 
 It waked again those kindling fires 
 Which struggling Nature e'er aspires. 
 The stranger bore, with gentle care, 
 Within the nearest dwelling, there 
 The speechless form to life redeemed ; 
 While he, strange as it ever seemed, 
 Escaped, nor dropped the least reveal 
 To guide direct or ope the seal. 
 
 Meanwhile the pastor's house was still 
 In gentle sleep ; no fear of ill 
 Disturbed its inmates' breathing rest. 
 Nor gave to dreams a sterner zest. 
 
 Rejoicing in the sunny morn, 
 Her sister's tresses to adorn. 
 Bright Helen seeks her, wondering why 
 Irene is sleeping, when the sky 
 ' Is growing blue, and bright, and gay, 
 In rays that o'er the hill-tops stray ! 
 Glad notes are trilling from her tongue — 
 The yielding door is open flung — 
 *' Where is Irene ? None have as yet 
 Her morning salutation met ! " 
 She quickly sees her daily dress 
 Is where 'twas laid at night ; distress 
 Her nervous faculties possess ; 
 She flies along the hall — " O dear !
 
 MISSION BRIDE. 163 
 
 Dear father ! mother ! oh ! I fear 
 Something has happened to Irene ! 
 Some one has in her chamber been. 
 She's gone ! The open window — oh ! 
 Some dreadful fate is hers I know ; 
 Her dress and slippers too are there — 
 But where is sister — where, oh, where ? " 
 
 But scarce was Helen's broken word 
 By sire, or son, or matron heard, 
 When all were in the rifled room 
 O'erwhelmed with fear for Irene's doom : 
 " Yes, violence has wrought the deed ! 
 De Wiles — his work in this I read," 
 Ejaculated Samuel Ray : 
 " I've felt no peace since dawned the day 
 This treacherous man approached Glendale; 
 His purpose was too base to fail ! " 
 Then forth he starts alarm to sound, 
 And soon the tidings spread around. 
 
 She's found alive ! 
 Oh, yes ! for in that awful hour 
 The orphan 'scaped the murderer's power. 
 She oped her eyes upon the crowd 
 Of anxious ones beside her bowed ; 
 On couch ot down to rest once more 
 Strong arms of love the sufferer bore. 
 She suffers little sense of pain, 
 Her thoughts in lethargy remain, 
 Till, with a dirge-like, saddened wail 
 The windy Autumn throws its vail 
 Of dying glories round the year,
 
 i64 EPIC POEM. 
 
 And chiller shadows reappear, 
 And shriller through the rifled bowers 
 Stern prophecies of winter hours 
 Rebound upon the bracing air, 
 While leaves are fluttering here and there, 
 And mouse and squirrel store away- 
 Sweet nuts to cheer the wintry day. 
 
 Attended with the tenderest care. 
 Again her spirit wakes to share 
 In fond affection's certain light, 
 The pastimes of the frosty night. 
 Sad Memory so rarely claimed 
 The right, Stelthair she never named ! 
 
 Once more sweet Spring is on the plain, 
 With birds and blossoms in her train ; 
 Once more the sea-green spires of grass 
 Bend graceful as the breezes pass ; 
 Unprisoned brooks in wider bound 
 Are threading silver o'er the ground. 
 
 Another summer glided on, 
 
 Its harvest glories almost gone, 
 
 The autumn days were waning slow 
 
 Beside the Housatonic's flow ; 
 
 The corn and hay were in the stacks. 
 
 The hills resound the woodman's axe. 
 
 While faU huge trees with crushing bound, 
 
 And mounts and glens repeat the sound. 
 
 And through the valley, glade and glen 
 
 Are seen the homes of living men, 
 
 Of life in thought and action true,
 
 MISSLON BRIDE. 165 
 
 To mould, to cultivate, subdue ; 
 To bid the wilderness retire 
 Before the all-pervading fire 
 Of Saxon life, and nature bind 
 To bless and civilize mankind : 
 There, in a glade within the wood, 
 Above the river's peaceful flood, 
 Where rest the morning's orient beams, 
 And dewdrops show their rainbow gleams, 
 The stranger sees a rounded pile 
 Of stone, within a broad defile — 
 Mementos rude — a savage trace — 
 The graveyard of the red man's race 1 
 Oft have the forest monarchs seen. 
 Beneath the pale and moonlit sheen, 
 An Indian train of warriors brave 
 Bearing a comrade to his grave ; 
 In silence, 'mong the shades profound, 
 They reach the consecrated ground : 
 There stood the dark-plumed Indian chief, 
 The stern embodiment of grief; 
 And there the dark-haired maiden wept 
 While starry hosts calm vigils kept 1 
 Years passed : the hand of civil deal 
 Transposed the tyjies of Indian weal, 
 And western rivers now describe 
 New limits for the Stockbridge tribe. 
 Still on the beauteous prairies West 
 The red man, less content than blest, 
 At sunset or at hush of night 
 When moonbeams make the forests bright, 
 And dream-vails hung around the rills.
 
 i66 EPIC POEM. 
 
 Sighs oft to roam his native hills, 
 To bathe in Kousatonic's wave 
 And stand beside his father's grave ! 
 Then, oft, with each returning year, 
 As summer sunbeams disappear, 
 A group of lodges might be seen 
 Beneath the fading forest green, 
 And near the mound of stones, beside 
 The Housatonic's noiseless glide: 
 There weeks were spent : the Indian stood 
 'Mid hallowed scenes, his fathers trod 
 And sighed beneath the trees that wave 
 Their branches o'er his nation's grave. 
 
 The fervor of September days 
 Grew chill beneath the slanting rays, 
 As Scorpio marked a starry trail 
 Adown the autumn's cooling vale. 
 Irene restored, health's rosy bloom 
 Impels her wandering feet to roam 
 The shady grove, the hill-side where 
 Returning braves each year repair. 
 There, 'neath the wigwam's lowly roof 
 She finds of Christian faith the proof, 
 A Youthful Brave, whose heart revealed 
 A soul whom God the Father sealed. 
 Her heart, a mine of pious truth, 
 Grows fervent, as this Christian youth 
 The story of their wants describes. 
 The desolation of the tribes : 
 " Dark views of God degrade the man ; 
 Unknown to them the Saviour's plan
 
 MISSION BRIDE. 167 
 
 To purge from sin, by faith redeem, 
 And dissipate the fatal dream 
 Which hovers o'er, in dark control, 
 The untaught race — the red man's soul ! " 
 Skenanda pleads his people's cause ; 
 " They need to learn of God — his laws, 
 His truth, his will, his gracious love 
 Which sent to earth the heavenly Dove ; 
 The Lamb of God ! who once unfurled 
 His banner o'er a sinful world ! 
 'Tis true, the mission-man will preach, 
 And of the glorious Saviour teach, 
 But still they need a woman's tongue 
 To charm the old, instruct the young, 
 And gently lead the way to heaven, 
 By act and precept kindly given ! " 
 
 And now the living chords of home 
 Seem breaking, in her wish to roam 
 From gentle friends, afar away, 
 To teach the Indians how to pray. 
 
 Her purpose deep matured with care 
 Before the throne of God in prayer, 
 With filial trust, without delay 
 She sought the aid of Samuel Ray: 
 The good man heard his dear Irene 
 Disclose her plan with brow serene. 
 And marvelled that a faitii so strong 
 Shoulil find its home in one so young! 
 He spoke in accents sweetly mild. 
 And kindly kissed liis foster-child ;
 
 '68 EPIC POEM. 
 
 With soft remonstrance he portrayed 
 Requirements, dangers, there arrayed, 
 Which soon her energies would waste, 
 And gently urged her zeal, misplaced. 
 
 " None know but God the sacrifice 
 
 Your child thus makes, but she would rise 
 
 Above a selfish thought and aim. 
 
 And yield herself to duty's claim : 
 
 My trembling spirit almost faints 
 
 As parting scenes my fancy paints : 
 
 To bid farewell — a last adieu 
 
 To sisters dear, to brother true, 
 
 To parents — oh ! that hallowed word 
 
 Awakes within my soul a chord 
 
 Which vibrates quivering, and reveals 
 
 E'en more than love parental seals ! 
 
 I feel the all-pervading bond. 
 
 My Saviour calls and I respond ! " 
 
 She ceased : Each heart the theme partakes 
 
 And sobs alone the silence breaks ; 
 
 They knelt to God — the good man prayed 
 
 For strength, that she might undismayed 
 
 Accept the call — might ever stand 
 
 A polished gem in God's right hand. 
 
 That all might bow, might ever feel 
 
 A meek submission to his will. 
 
 They rose in strength — " God's will be done ! " 
 
 Faith's clearer light appeared to dawn — 
 
 Their daughter, sister, they resign 
 
 To God's own work — a call divine.
 
 MISSION BRIDE. 169 
 
 Before she bid's a last adieu 
 
 To childhood's scenes, in memory true, 
 
 Irene, at eve, alone goes forth 
 
 To water, with her tears, the earth 
 
 Wherein the mouldering ashes rest 
 
 Of those loved earliest and best: 
 
 Beside her parents' graves she kneels, 
 
 A deeper sense of sadness feels. 
 
 As thought uncurbed, with clouded wing, 
 
 Speeds back to childhood's flowery spring 
 
 Bearing a chastened, solemn trace 
 
 Of that most sacred, hallowed place. 
 
 The rippling of a Lethean stream 
 
 Is holy in the passing dream ; 
 
 Though weeping willows o'er it bear, 
 
 The beauty of the fas/ is there. 
 
 In pensive charm, and by its brink. 
 
 The same bright daisies love to drink, 
 
 And summer cloudlets — fairy isles — 
 
 As long ago, seem Heaven's smiles ! 
 
 Again have halcyon wings returned, 
 
 And joy's clear lamps before her burned. 
 
 The spirits of her infant home 
 
 Almost dispel her wish to roam 
 
 Afar in danger's hidden track, 
 
 For, oh ! her childhood has come back ! 
 
 Tis gone : the freshening of the breeze 
 
 Wakes mournful sounds among the trees, 
 
 And fitful beats the pulse of day, 
 
 While changing dark, the shadows grey 
 
 Of shrub and tree, appear more dense, 
 
 More gloomy to the maiden's sense;
 
 170 EPIC POEM. 
 
 She hears the shrieking of the owl, 
 
 While clouds are closing like a cowl 
 
 Across the recess of the West, 
 
 And birds have hymned themselves to rest ; 
 
 She leaves for aye the sacred spot. 
 
 Ne'er, O ne'er to be forgot ! 
 
 While hasting through the twilight dark. 
 
 To angel tones she seems to hark. 
 
 And sweetly low these accents flow — 
 
 "Go forth, Irene! to duty go; 
 
 God watches o'er our lovely child ; 
 
 His arm protects through every wild ! " 
 
 Then round her way there seems to spread 
 
 A lustrous vision of the dead, 
 
 Which fades not till her steps once more 
 
 Have passed within the pastor's door. 
 
 With solemn, pensive, tearful eye, 
 Irene bestows her long " good bye " 
 On friends whose constant acts have proved 
 How well the orphan girl they loved ! 
 . The wishes of the gentle pair, 
 The sad regrets of Helen fair, 
 The consciousness of Robert's truth. 
 Now manly in his opening youth. 
 Nor all the memories of the past 
 In fond beseechings overcast. 
 Can woo her mind to break the seal 
 Devotion set for Indian weal ! 
 A woman now in fullest sense, 
 A wider scope she will commence ; 
 Chastened by many griefs, her soul
 
 MISSION BRIDE. 171 
 
 Is strong in God ; a noble goal 
 Pictured in truthful dreams may rise, 
 Its base the earth, its dome the skies, 
 Where alcoves glorious invite 
 The mind to feel its inner light. 
 More certain than in visioned youth 
 To fix her hopes on living truth. 
 
 " ' The way is long,' the father said, 
 As through the western wilds he sped. 
 
 With eager searching eye ; " 
 An emigrant with courage bold, 
 Who nothing cares for paltry gold, 
 
 Conducts a numerous family 
 To find a home of sweet content, 
 Where years in quiet may be spent. 
 
 Irene, an angel in the band. 
 Still ponders on her native land. 
 
 But no regretting tears arise ; 
 The courage of a Christian's heart 
 Can foil the cruel tempter's dart ; 
 
 She gazes on the evening skies 
 As sets each day o'er plain and stream 
 The summer sun's benignant beam. 
 Her consecrated thoughts delight 
 To watch its parting promise light ; 
 
 She cheers the matron's anxious fear. 
 While heavenly grace, like summer showers, 
 Refreshes all her mental powers, 
 
 And in the distance rays appear, 
 Diflusing from Religion's lamp 
 Around the red man's lonely camp.
 
 172 EPIC POEM. 
 
 Now close the curtain, bind it well, 
 Let no untimely glimpses tell 
 The sequel of the far away 
 Wherein our noble one shall stray : 
 Time — monarch absolute and stern — 
 Shall us enable to discern 
 The record Mississippi's wave 
 Has murmured for the orphan's grave. 
 
 END OF PART I.
 
 MISSION-B RIDE 
 
 AN EPIC POEM. 
 
 PART II 
 
 So far as this our feelings and our thoughts 
 Tend ever on and rest not in the Present, 
 As drops of rain fall into some dark well 
 And from below comes scarce an audible sound, 
 So fall our thoughts into the Hereafter 
 And their mysterious echo reaches us." 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 Beyond a faintly sliimmering stream 
 The Indian hunters' watch-fires gleam, 
 
 Soft shine the early stars ! 
 The air is stirred by viewless hands, 
 Dim phantoms wander forth in bands — 
 
 The ghosts of Indian wars — 
 Of conflicts long ago maintained, 
 When vengeance battling unrestrained 
 
 Laid many a warrior low. 
 And Death's pale eye alone surveyed 
 Forms sleeping chill in moonlit shade, 
 
 Like ice or sheeted snow I
 
 174 EPIC POEM. 
 
 A band have paused the stream beside, 
 The haze is darkening, o'er the tide 
 
 The ripples faintly play ; 
 Their strength and hope have struggled long. 
 And love revives a mournful song 
 
 Of childhood's happy day . 
 Bright flames arise, between the boughs 
 The clouded moon but half allows 
 
 Its early evening smile ; 
 The travellers pitch a lonely tent, 
 A solemn prayer to Heaven is sent, 
 
 And sleep pervades the aisle. 
 
 The morning sunbeams' purple light 
 
 Pursues the wavering shadows' flight 
 
 Disseminating joyous day 
 
 As with the lightning's speed they stray : 
 
 Again the wanderers wake to life, 
 
 With fears and hopes their hearts are rife ; 
 
 No time is lost; in buoyant hope 
 
 A gently rising southern slope 
 
 Marks out the well-selected spot 
 
 Where logs shall form their sheltering cot. 
 
 From that day forth the hamlet spread. 
 
 As emigrants were thither led ; 
 
 The red man's camp-fires round it gleamed, 
 
 At night the wolf and panther screamed. 
 
 And oft the musket trimmed for fire 
 
 Was grasped by brother, son or sire. 
 
 Yet Peace the dwellers hovered near. 
 
 And patient toil made life more dear.
 
 MISSION BRIDE. 175 
 
 A missionary years before 
 
 Had left Atlantic's distant shore, 
 
 By God directed through the wild 
 
 To save from death the forest child : 
 
 Irene her resolution made 
 
 To seek this Christian brother's aid ; 
 
 Escorted by her guardian's son, 
 
 The last long mile one evening won, 
 
 Their steeds are by a cabin, near 
 
 A forest lake whose waters clear 
 
 Embalm the boughs that o'er it bend, 
 
 And for its watery kiss contend : 
 
 The air is still ; no ruffling breeze 
 
 Sends quivering sunlight through the trees ; 
 
 No woodland whisper soft and slow 
 
 Disturbs reflections dark below ; 
 The leafy pictured masses sleep 
 
 Like tired explorers of the deep : 
 
 A breath, a ripple on the tide — 
 
 A white canoe with silent glide 
 
 Darts forward — eagle plumes appear ! 
 
 A warrior in his proudest gear 
 
 Bounds on the sloping, weedy shore ; 
 
 His bark secured, he strides before 
 
 The cot, sits down upon the grass 
 
 Shaded by boughs of sassafras. 
 
 Meanwhile the inmates gather near. 
 
 The strangers' names and talcs to hear ; 
 
 Their looks and manners all confest 
 
 The full surprise of every breast : 
 
 The missionary round whose brow 
 
 The locks of youth are turned to snow,
 
 176 EPIC POEM. 
 
 With kind, inquiring gentle mien, 
 Gave courage to the young Irene. 
 
 " Kind sir, my errand soon is told, 
 
 An orphan girl in me behold ! 
 
 From pilgrim valleys I have come 
 
 To teach the Indian in his home ; 
 
 Not friendless, or alone I traced 
 
 The mounts, and woods, and prairie waste; 
 
 My guides were true and loving souls — 
 
 Not far from hence their cot ; where rolls 
 
 The river from the sunset's crest 
 
 My band have settled down to rest : 
 
 Some moons have waned since there they chose 
 
 The spot whereon their cabin rose ; 
 
 Your Christian labors I have learned. 
 
 My trembling heart has thither turned ; 
 
 You will, kind sir, will not refuse 
 
 The hope approval may infuse 1 
 
 Behold me ready for the task, 
 
 Jesus will give the grace I ask ! " 
 
 " Welcome, fair daughter, as our guest ! 
 And more, if duty be thy quest ; 
 Thy form is frail, and young thy heart 
 To bear the missionary's part ; 
 But storms may leave unhurt the reed 
 When mighty oaks must break and bleed ; 
 According to thy strength thy day, 
 That soul has power that loves to pray." 
 
 Trembling the plumes above his brew, 
 The listening Indian rises now ;
 
 MISSION BRIDE. 177 
 
 A deep, unyielding fervor lies 
 Behind the sable of his eyes : 
 As from their coral halls of sleep 
 Arise the wavelets of the deep 
 To gather mountains round the storm, 
 So full, expansive, grows his form ; 
 He speaks ; not as the tempest sounds. 
 Not as the echo far rebounds, 
 Yet grandly as the breezes swell 
 When night-winds diapasons tell. 
 
 The Christian's Manito is mine ! His light 
 Has found my evil heart, and taught it love ! 
 The red man's heart is proud — his eyes are blind — 
 His pride shall fall. As clouds are scattered from 
 The prairie, shall his eyelids be unloosed. 
 God sent the maiden ! Far across the streams 
 Whose waters laugh in spring-time — far beyond 
 The cloudy hill-tops — many moons away — 
 When a few brave warriors trod the distance back 
 To our rich hunting-grounds deserted; when 
 Beside our own blue stream we sat us down 
 To sigh and view the past, this tender bird 
 Poured out such strains as sing the pines at night 
 When hunters rest. She wandered through the groves, 
 And once — the last — I saw the pale face dare 
 To lift his arm to slay the singing bird 
 Of Housatonic ! Paler grew the moonlight — 
 It withered on the boughs — the midnight's breath 
 Was restless — I sprang forth ♦ • * * 
 His track I followed! In the deep, still woods 
 I gained upon his steps ! The murderer's stain, 
 12
 
 178 EPIC POEM. 
 
 The crime the Christian's God forbids, was red 
 
 Upon his guilty soul ! There I avenged 
 
 The helpless one — I brought him low ! His grave 
 
 With autumn leaves I covered. Long before 
 
 That moon grew dark, our steps had travelled toward 
 
 Our sunset home." 
 
 " Now has she flown 
 From Heaven's bright land of souls to cheer and bless 
 My race ! The power of Manito is here ! 
 She comes like sunbeams round a chasm dark 
 To tell the chiefs there's death and sorrow near ! " 
 
 Emotions, words have ne'er expressed, 
 
 O'ercome her strength and rack her breast; 
 
 Her bowing head is overwrought 
 
 With deep, concealed, conflicting thought, 
 
 While Memory's weird and wandering power 
 
 Concentres on that awful hour I 
 
 The Present lost, like lightning gleams. 
 
 The Past returns with all its dreams; 
 
 Life's shattered hopes are broken chains, 
 
 Each link dissevered, still remains 
 
 Scattered around her pensive feet. 
 
 Pale ruins of her life's defeat ! 
 
 No voice disturbs the silence brief; 
 
 Each pulse is like a fluttering leaf 
 
 Between the utterance of storm 
 
 When nature writhes its giant form. 
 
 Aroused to duty's present call, 
 
 She breaks the spell — escapes the thrall, 
 
 And every footstep gathers near 
 
 Her strange and simple words to hear :
 
 MISSION BRIDE. 179 
 
 " No time is this for grief and sighs ; 
 From sad remembrances I rise 
 With a heart of hope, unchilled by fears, 
 Through trials felt in my early years ! 
 That hour passed by — the victim lives — 
 Bold warrior ! she freely gives 
 Her energies to teach thy race, 
 Of which thou art a noble trace ! 
 Kind friends, the Indian's tale is true : 
 He stamps the pledge for me and you: 
 My name Irene — an alien's child, 
 I've wandered to this distant wild, 
 As once my father o'er the sea 
 Sought exile in Columbia free: 
 He lives, and my sweet mother, where 
 The angels breathe in sinless air ! 
 They beckon me from earth away, 
 But I must here yet longer stay." 
 
 Another morn illumes the earth, 
 
 A thousand gems of light have birth, 
 
 Wild music echoes through the wood, 
 
 And ripples softly stir the flood : 
 
 Before the sun had tmged the trees 
 
 When air was life, and life was ease. 
 
 When sweetly cooed the mated dove. 
 
 And red-birds warbled peace and love ; 
 
 When whip-poor-wills and owls of night 
 
 Were covcrted from morning light, 
 
 Irene and her young escort stood 
 
 Prepared again to trace the wood ; 
 
 Their steeds were reined, the last word said,
 
 i8o EPIC POEM. 
 
 They took the path that homeward led, 
 And 'neath the shadowing forest sped : 
 'Twas moral courage nerved her breast, 
 And gave her lonely journey zest, 
 Concealing in her chastened heart 
 Crushed hopes of youth, the tempter's art, 
 In that one grand heroic will 
 To bless mankind, and to instill 
 New light in some benighted soul 
 Where sin has held its dark control. 
 
 'Tis sweet to contemplate the tace 
 
 Of childhood pure and fair, 
 To worship the convincing trace 
 
 Of God's pure image there ; 
 To watch the growing bloom of mind, 
 
 Immortal fruit mature. 
 Perfecting what the Lord designed 
 
 Forever to endure ! 
 To see the child of affluence smile 
 
 With alabaster brow, 
 Whose young refinements show no guile- 
 
 Who sins, it knows not how : 
 'Tis pleasant to behold a band 
 
 Of such bright birdlings, taught 
 Obedience and self-command. 
 
 To spread their wings of thought. 
 A teacher's life! — its essence, love! — 
 
 A life of truth, subhme. 
 Its power endures, till God above. 
 
 Shall seal the Books of Time !
 
 MISSION BRIDE. i8i 
 
 Not thus the opening forest scene, 
 
 Where labors our beloved Irene ; 
 
 No cultured-softened, childish heart, 
 
 Responds to hers with guileless art ; 
 
 But Indian youth these scenes portray, 
 
 In Nature's rude and wild array. 
 
 There's look inquiring in the eye. 
 
 There's meaning smile, there's motion shy ; 
 
 They watch the ever-gentle play 
 
 Of human kindness, as the ray 
 
 Of morning glitters on the lake 
 
 O'er which the mountain shadows break. 
 
 These are the children of the wood, 
 
 Of fathers in whose veins the blood 
 
 Of mystic generations swells, 
 
 Like vernal streams in mountain dells ; 
 
 Still there's an intellectual light 
 
 Mingling with gloomy mental night ; 
 
 And in those breasts are warm desires. 
 
 Where smouldering burn dark passions' fires, 
 
 Whose wild impulses may o'erreach 
 
 Each thought of good, Irene would teach. 
 
 She labors onward, day by day, 
 
 And studies by the taper's ray 
 
 The few brief phrases that convey 
 
 Her meaning to the little band. 
 
 Who learn to bide her soft command — 
 
 She seeks by symbol rude, and sign. 
 
 To fix attention, to combine 
 
 A love for good with pleasure's cheer. 
 
 And each dark child becomes more dear; 
 
 As speak their glimmers of delight,
 
 i82 EPIC POEM. 
 
 Like starry twinkles in the night. 
 
 She feels their kindUer instincts glow ; 
 
 And love responsive, in its flow, 
 
 Like rills that thread the meadow green, 
 
 flalf shaded, yet in brightness seen. 
 
 Gushes to cheer her lonely hours, 
 
 And water pure affection's flowers : 
 
 Each dusky urchin vies to bring 
 
 The captured bird of brightest wing. 
 
 The snowy egg, the eagle's crest. 
 
 The blossorns from the mountam's breast. 
 
 The pebble and the silver shell, 
 
 And mosses from the cedar dell, 
 
 All treasures ot the broad domains 
 
 Where roams the red man, free from chains. 
 
 Now thunders mutter from afar, 
 
 And darkness hovers o'er the band ; 
 Its shade may hide their hopeful star, 
 
 And overcast the peaceful land. 
 The northern tribes, in fierce disdain. 
 
 Demand a speedy, full redress 
 Of wrongs long suffered, they maintain. 
 
 Within their cherished wilderness. 
 In secret they prepare to cross 
 
 The prairies broad, to stem the streams ; 
 Dark treachery lurks in covert dells. 
 
 And watch-fires burn in night-long gleams. 
 When sunset draws its curtains black. 
 
 And far, far Orion cloudless shines, 
 His beams delineate a track — 
 
 A war-path traced in blood-stained lines !
 
 MISSION BRIDE. 183 
 
 Silent and slow the warriors tread, 
 
 Scarce starts the panther from his lair, 
 Or night's shrill songster, as its notes 
 
 Trill on the solemn evening air : 
 Where bound are they, this warrior throng ? 
 
 Where rests in peace a verdant glade, 
 O'er whose sweet calm and slumberous song 
 
 Death lurks to fall in ambuscade ? 
 Far, far away ! and round their fires 
 
 The hoary bluffs a group survey, 
 And the lofty sycamore aspires 
 
 To intercept the moon's pale ray. 
 The cautious chief of the Iroquois 
 
 Has felt the danger drawing nigh, 
 As ocean's coming storms are seen 
 
 By sailors in the troubled sky. 
 Assembled in the shadowy dawn. 
 
 The chiefs around the smouldering flame. 
 In grave, portentous council drawn. 
 
 To hear the words of proud " Segame." 
 " Brothers ! there's death ! The northern winds 
 
 Have brought the panther's screams of war ! 
 Send out our scouts among the pines, 
 
 The lofty oaks, the plains afar 1 " 
 
 An hour passed on ; that Indian camp 
 
 Was reft of all its warrior train ; 
 Skirted around, though all unseen, 
 
 Were forest, swamp, and prairie plain. 
 
 But where was now the loved Irene? 
 
 Did clouds draw close their shadowing screen, 
 
 As vengeance frowned in wild dismay.
 
 i84 EPIC POEM. 
 
 And peace forsook her toilsome way ? 
 ■ She had taught the sachem's favorite son — 
 His turbulence her goodness won ! 
 Too young to wield the warrior's bow, 
 The chief allowed the prince to go, 
 To roam the varied flowery wild, 
 To climb the ledge by ages piled. 
 And gaze upon the surging stream 
 That laved its base, unknown to steam. 
 Owasso found the teacher's cot. 
 And daily sought the love-charmed spot; 
 As wings the eaglet toward the sky, 
 Eager its new-found powers to try. 
 The Indian boy's untutored soul 
 Aspiring grew in her control ; 
 Each struggling germ of intellect, 
 Of beauty's ken, and self-respect, 
 Grew strong and bright, from hour to hour, 
 And wild Owasso felt its power. 
 
 Behevest thou the Indian heart 
 
 With all its innate cruel art — 
 
 Revenge that sleeps like sheath-hid steel — 
 
 No warming gratitude may feel ? 
 
 When danger round that hamlet drew, 
 
 And safety bade its dark adieu : 
 
 Owasso sought, with paces fleet. 
 
 His white-browed teacher's dim retreat. 
 
 " Segame, my father, Indian chief. 
 This morning plucked this paw-paw leaf 
 Which o'er his lodge so greenly grew —
 
 MISSION RRIDE. 185 
 
 A token of his heart to you ! 
 
 To yonder height, from all secure, 
 
 Beside a cavern's secret door, 
 
 He bids the White Dove's wings to fly 
 
 Before this sun has left the sky ; 
 
 Her trembling form may rest when sounds 
 
 The war-whoop through the hunting-grounds ! 
 
 Come, go with me, my teacher kind 1 
 
 Owasso will the panther bind. 
 
 And guard with care, both day and night, 
 
 The one who gives him joy and light ! " 
 
 Irene was calm — it was her sphere 
 
 To curb the quick tumultuous tear; 
 
 She weighed the evidence of truth. 
 
 And answered thus the Indian youth : 
 
 " Tell your sire, my steps shall follow you 
 
 Ere danger comes to nearer view ; 
 
 Tell him your teacher thanks the chief 
 
 For this kindness shown in the message leaf." 
 
 The boy was gone as light departs 
 
 When sudden thunders Hash their darts: 
 
 The morrow's night in silence hides 
 
 Within a cave's rough, ledgy sides, 
 
 A group secure, with rocks embound. 
 
 Safe from the war's shrill blood-toned sound ; 
 
 'Twas low and dark, that dwelling rude, 
 
 Concealed in deepest solitude. 
 
 Within a fissure of the ledge 
 
 Whose front hung o'er a lakelet's edge : 
 
 Close brushwood hid the cavern's door
 
 i86 EPIC POEM. 
 
 And round it twined were mosses hoar. 
 Segame concealed his treasures there 
 When dangers hovered in the air. 
 
 'Twas night — the third which o'er the plain 
 ■ Its dusky mantling folds had spread, 
 Which marked a stern and vengeful train 
 
 As through the wild their war-path led. 
 They're near the hamlet — scouts advance — 
 
 Camp-fires are dull — all, all is still ; 
 They tread in silence back, while dews 
 
 A morning crown of gems distill. 
 
 The death-bound host in stealthy track 
 Move onward slow like ghost terrene. 
 
 The starlight casts dim shadows back, 
 Wile Death, exulting, scans the scene. 
 
 The night was gentle, sound was hushed, 
 No rising breeze, no stirring dream ; 
 
 The night-bird and the wild-cat slept, 
 Or listened for the signal scream : 
 
 It came ; from 'neath a towering bluff. 
 Where rolls the river's tide and slow, 
 
 The war-whoop came in startling tones. 
 Betokening death to friend and toe. 
 
 Forth like the tiger from his lair 
 
 The ambuscade in vengeance springs ; 
 
 And the fierce Sioux their foes receive, 
 
 And carnage stoops with blood-stained wings.
 
 MISSIOiN BRIDE. 187 
 
 No faltering foe, brave Iroquois! 
 
 Now meets thy prowess hand to hand, 
 No trembhng recreant's arm is here, 
 
 No laggard host, no wavering band ! 
 
 Blows fall — the savage sinks in death, 
 
 The tomahawk is bathed in blood. 
 While fierce, exultant yells anon 
 
 Terrific sound o'er plain and flood. 
 
 Sounds die away — the war-whoop's din 
 Is changed, the victor's song is heard, 
 
 And e'er the sun engilds the plain 
 
 Or morning's breath the world has stirred. 
 
 The remnant of the northern bands 
 
 Have started for their snow-clad plains. 
 
 While the Iroquois with bloody hands 
 
 Are counting the scalps of their enemies slain. 
 
 One captive stands in sullen mood ; 
 
 The thongs his naked limbs embind, 
 While brandished clubs and arrows fly 
 
 Round the fettered Siou, to a tree confined. 
 
 The vale was strewn with ghastly dead 
 
 Whose forms unburied there remain 
 To gorge the wolves of the forest ilread, 
 
 As they snufi" the air on the bloody plain. 
 
 But proud .Segamc and his warrior host 
 Are silent and still as they bear away 
 
 The mangled remains of the Irocjuois — 
 The doomed who fell in that fierce affray.
 
 i88 EPIC POEM. 
 
 And the wail that rose on that mornmg's breath, 
 Called from their homes a solemn train 
 
 Oi matrons and maids, who bewail their death 
 With howls that roll o'er the prairie plain. 
 
 They have reached the camp : the tribes prepare 
 The dance, which conquest aye demands ; 
 
 The scalps, suspended in the air. 
 Call shouts exultant from the bands. 
 
 Why stands that stake in the esplanade ? 
 
 Why piled those faggots near and high ? 
 They bind the thongs from osiers made 
 
 Around that brave condemned to die ! 
 
 Wildly they move in triumphal dance 
 Circling they wave on high their arms ; 
 
 Now back they bound and again advance 
 Invoking their gods with bloody charms. 
 
 The victim cool, defiant stands. 
 
 Nor a sigh escapes, nor a look of grief; 
 
 Calm he surveys the exultant throng. 
 
 Nor asks from his torturers hope or relief ! 
 
 His voice awakes in warlike song; 
 
 Hear, hear! he recounts the lowas slain. 
 Sneers at his captors; tells them they belong 
 
 With squaws in the caves, or the deer on the plain ! 
 
 With rage they tear his naked flesh. 
 
 Not a pain, not a throb he seems to feel ; 
 
 With countenance calm as the waves at rest, 
 His body receives the gashing steel.
 
 MISSION BRIDE. 189. 
 
 Amid this wild and sickening scene, 
 From her cave retreat appears Irene; 
 Her soul by pitying impulse moved, 
 Serene and warm because it loved^ 
 Loved not as blossoms smile in dreams, 
 Loved not as sophists love their schemes, 
 Loved not as envy loves to name 
 The pure with breathings that defame ; 
 Not as disputants love the feud, 
 Loved not as warriors imbued 
 With hope, vain glory's prize to gain, 
 
 Nor yet as love the proud and vain ; 
 
 Loved not as those who fain would hold 
 
 In death the miser's grasp of gold ! 
 
 But with a love more near allied 
 
 To Him from out whose spear-pierced side 
 
 Gushed forth the living emblem tide : 
 
 She loved the soul, the undying mind, 
 
 And would the fettered form unbind ; 
 
 And now she pleads with proud Segarae 
 
 To stop the kindling of the flame. 
 
 To spare the victim, set him free. 
 
 Prerogative of majesty ! 
 
 She stands before ihe frowning king 
 
 Like flowers 'neath sturdy trees in spring. 
 
 Pale, delicate, and trembling there, 
 
 The spirit-bloom of Heaven's pure air! 
 
 All sounds are hushed, the tribes draw near. 
 
 They fain the White Dove's words would hear. 
 
 She speaks: "A powerful chief is great Segamet 
 His warriors; brave have overthrown their foes;
 
 I90 EPIC POEM. 
 
 The Sioux have fled far, far away 
 Among the northern hills ! Their arrows now 
 Disturb the braves no more! 'Twas Manito, 
 The Mighty God, who gave this victory to 
 The Iroquois — 'twas he struck down their foes. 
 But still a shade falls on the nation's joy : 
 They mourn their brothers slain, and yet believe 
 Them gone to live beyond the hills, away 
 To hunting-grounds more fair than these, that land 
 Where all the good find rest ! The Manito 
 Has left one captive with the lowas. 
 Behold him there! — no bow, no tomahawk! 
 His hands are bound ; his feet are fettered close ; 
 All helpless as a child he stands before Segame! 
 But hark ! the voice of God ! He tries the love 
 That burns within the breast of our brave chief j 
 That God who speaks — the Mighty One — 
 The Spirit of the forest and the streams, 
 Who clothes the vales in green, is merciful 
 To all his enemies ! Will not Segame 
 Be merciful to his ? to one weak man, 
 Already bleeding, faint, and like a child ? 
 'Twill not bring back the spirits of the dead 
 To light the pile around the suffering foe ; 
 Ah, no ! but mercy, e'en that mercy which 
 Segame would show to any wounded dove, 
 Now calls aloud to spare the captive one. 
 To bind and heal his wounds, to send him back 
 To greet his broken tribe, and tell them all 
 • The story of your love ! What brothers' hearts 
 Shall thrill as he recounts this day's release ! 
 A brother is Segame ! And O what tears
 
 MISSION BRIDE. 191 
 
 Shall bathe his wayworn face as he shall press 
 His anxious wife to his love-throbbing breast ! 
 Segame, too, loves his wife ! And then behold 
 In that lone cot, a father sits in silent grief! 
 He mourns him dead ! a father is Segame ! 
 Here stands his manly boy ; if he were bound 
 Among his nation's foes, and then those foes 
 Should send him back alive ! Oh, brave Segame! 
 Look on your boy and set your victim free : 
 So when Segame himself shall go, and live 
 In those bright hunting-grounds above, where all 
 His fathers are, he will rejoice to meet the man 
 
 His mercy spared Let mercy then 
 
 Unbind the captive, bind his wounds, and heal 
 His tortured flesh, and, God-like, send him to 
 His friends." 
 
 The throng in silence heard ; then spake Segame : 
 " The maiden's heart is good — Great Manito 
 Has never told Segame to spare his foe ! 
 The spirits of the slain demand his death. 
 Owasso I light the pile — we must not wait — 
 The Iroquois beyond tlie stream. 
 Where winter never walks among the trees, 
 Now look to see the speedy flames arise." 
 
 The boy advances to his father's side, 
 
 And bows in awe before the powerful chief; 
 
 His eyes rest on that stern, unpitying face, 
 
 In filial love, in trustfulness of youth, 
 
 In gentleness — a mien which thus could dare 
 
 A martyr's death : His words are few but firm. 
 
 " Segame, my loving sire ! I cannot seal
 
 192 EPIC POEM. 
 
 The death of yon brave suffering foe, nor light 
 His funeral pyre ! I love all men — I hear 
 A voice which sternly bids me spare, 
 Save life, and not to kill : the Son of God, 
 The friend of all, commands us not to hate, 
 But love and bless our enemies ! Segame 
 Will not compel Owasso." 
 
 While darkly frowns the monarch's brow, 
 He waves his hand, the ctiieftains bow. 
 Displeasure flashes and retires 
 To burn within like smothered fires, 
 And secret doubts his thoughts engage 
 To calm the zeal of savage rage : 
 No word is heard — his magic hand 
 Directs a brave of the war-plumed band. 
 And angry flames from the faggot pile 
 In wrathful curls shoot up the while ; 
 And the death-song rises round the brave 
 Whose ashes soon shall be his grave. 
 
 Time rolls along in full release 
 
 From chains of war, and genial peace, 
 
 Again the missionary cheers 
 
 And smiles upon the pioneers : 
 
 The " Woodvale" hamlet with its rude 
 
 Church dwelling is with life imbued. 
 
 With brighter love, with patient toil. 
 
 And hope and plenty bless the soil : 
 
 The Christian watchmen freely sow 
 
 The seeds of truth which spring and grow; 
 
 Dark minds begin to hail the ray
 
 MISSION BRIDE. 193 
 
 Of spiritual light like dawning day, 
 Though kindling faith scarce yet requires 
 The healing balm, their crude desires, 
 Like embryos within the breast, 
 Are living, healthy, unconfest. 
 The gentle teacher, forest-bound. 
 Still labors near the " maple mound," 
 Where children come in dusky throngs 
 And learn, with truth, sweet Saxon songs; 
 The hours of sacred time invite 
 Within an atmosphere of light 
 A gathering host in meek approve, 
 Eager to hear the voice of love ; 
 Maidens are there whose flowing hair 
 Is free as breezes of the air, 
 Dark as the mountain eagle's crest, 
 Vailing a full, expansive chest ; 
 Maidens who love the warrior's smile. 
 Free from deceit and flattery's wile. 
 Who love the flowers nor heed the thorn, 
 Like tender hands to luxury born ; 
 Who sing wild songs in their childhood's tongue, 
 And careless rove the groves among : 
 O the Indian maid is free and bold, 
 Her heart unbought by pride or gold ! 
 Stern warriors hear the preacher's word, 
 Their tearless souls are strangely stirred ; 
 Barbarian faith its weakness learned. 
 Like trees o'erbent but not upturned; 
 And truth grew stronger every hour, 
 Fed by the Spirit's growing power. 
 A child beside a placid lake 
 '3
 
 194 EPIC POEM. 
 
 With pebbles may the surface break 
 
 In eddying circles, widening more, 
 
 Till bounded by the distant shore; 
 
 So spreads the heaven-descending flame 
 
 O'er hill, o'er dale, and flowery plain ; 
 
 And, circling on, its mild control 
 
 Softens the chillness of the soul. 
 
 Thus hope their labors cheer and bless 
 
 Within this Western wilderness. 
 
 And Stations* near with thanks desire 
 
 To see this all-pervading fire 
 
 Which burns the forest to illume, 
 
 Like Horeb's bush, but not consume : 
 
 They come to see the " Dove of Spring," 
 
 To hear her children strangely sing. 
 
 And wondering, see a light divine 
 
 In every face, appears to shine ! 
 
 They come to hear the pastor's tale — 
 
 The " God-man " of the forest vale. 
 
 Who talks of heaven and fain describes 
 
 Pure love among the Indian tribes : 
 
 As winds the mighty trees may bend 
 
 And with their spreading strength contend, 
 
 So words of truth their power express. 
 
 To swell and stir this wilderness. 
 
 Soul-moved, the neighboring tribes convene 
 In prayer upon the Woodvale green. 
 And dawning hope within them burned 
 As from the man of God they learned 
 Of One who Death's dark fetters broke, 
 
 * Missionary Posts.
 
 MISSION BRIDE. 195 
 
 And of salvation kindly spoke ; 
 
 Who told of a bright and sunny sky 
 
 Where none may weep, where none may die ; 
 
 Where the good and just shall ever dwell, 
 
 Where no graves are made, where none say "farewell!" 
 
 When their voices ceased from holy song 
 
 An awe seemed to fall on the dusky throng, 
 
 And a voice broke forth whose thrillins: tones 
 
 Were like the wierd and solemn moans 
 
 Of lofty pines in their native groves, 
 
 When the wind-god's wrath his chariot moves : 
 
 'Twas a " prophet's " voice the silence broke, 
 
 And like the strong majestic oak, 
 
 He stood, athlete, his visage bare, 
 
 While light and shade seemed to struggle there; 
 
 Calm as an isle on a summer sea. 
 
 Conscious of strength, dignate and free, 
 
 Like a star in twilight's misty sky 
 
 Was " Ontara" the brave — of the prophet's eye! 
 
 Mysterious, shadowed by the screen 
 
 Of a clouded mmd and yet serene, 
 
 Uncomprehending solitude, 
 
 With superstition's fire imbued. 
 
 Tenacious of its baleful rites. 
 
 Rejecting all intrusive lights; 
 
 Hy force of concentration fraught 
 
 With subtle, dark, perverted thought, 
 
 Yet undisguising, frank and free, 
 
 The child of crude sincerity. 
 
 Such was the seer whose presence proud 
 
 Hoth awed and cheered the listening crowd.
 
 196 EPIC POEM. 
 
 " Brothers ! the red man's home is happy — herds 
 
 Of buffaloes roam near his hunting-path, 
 
 Inviting him to eat the choicest flesh — 
 
 They wait his arrows in the river vales — 
 
 The deer starts up before him in the shades — 
 
 The beaver and the otter give their furs 
 
 To chase away the winter's cold. To cheer 
 
 His heart the prairies bloom — the showers descend 
 
 Upon the thirsty earth ! The fragrant wings 
 
 Of evening air perfume his lodge — he lays 
 
 Him down to sleep, safe in the mighty arms 
 
 Of the Great Spirit — he dreams of rivers bright, 
 
 Of sunny plains. The ages long have blessed 
 
 His happy lot ! And when his white head turns 
 
 To see the face of his Great Father, when 
 
 He shall cross the stream, beyond the sunset dim. 
 
 To those green hunting-grounds, whose trees ne'er drop 
 
 Their leaves, his bones within cur valley rest 
 
 In peace, and birds sing o'er his grave. Why turn 
 
 You now from hope which cheered your father's life, 
 
 And calmed his soul in death ? The white man speaks 
 
 Of other hope — a Manito whose son 
 
 Is God ! It may be true, but 'tis not ours t 
 
 Another, race of men are these — in form. 
 
 In color, habits and religion — they 
 
 Are not our brothers ! We will love them still — 
 
 Our land shall feed, our springs shall slake their thirst — 
 
 But hark ! the voice beyond the hills ! It calls 
 
 As birds of gentlest note their mate ! Your sires, 
 
 Across the vales, beyond the cloud-vailed hills, 
 
 Now call you back ; and Manito speaks out 
 
 From fire-wreathed clouds — in rolling floods, which fly
 
 MISSION BRIDE. 197 
 
 And leap the air — in winds which swell, and surge, 
 And whirl in fearful might — ay ! I have heard 
 In awful thunder-tone, rolling beneath 
 The trembling bars of earth, his dreadful curse, 
 Pronounced on those who turn in scorn away 
 From his long-tried and faithful love ! " 
 
 He ceased : the listening throngs are thrilled 
 
 As when seraphic sounds are stilled. 
 
 When music gives a calm release; 
 
 And every breathing seemed to cease. 
 
 Ontara slowly left the crowd 
 
 Where many a Christian head was bowed. 
 
 Reader, from this wild scene away, 
 
 In mountain shadows let us stray. 
 
 To a dark and sombre-shaded dell 
 
 Where seems to brood a threatening spell 
 
 Of coming conflict, like the hush 
 
 Of gathering storms, or like the flush 
 
 Preceding passion's tumult wild, 
 
 Where hoary bluffs are skyward piled; 
 
 Ve who can love the solemn wood. 
 
 And feel the power of solitude, 
 
 Where God the all-pervading reigns, • 
 
 And thought is free from mental chains; 
 
 Who, in the breeze that sways the pine. 
 
 Take note of voice and breath divine. 
 
 Yon path pursue — 'tis scarcely seen — 
 
 Embowered in struggling wreaths of green. 
 
 Proceeding slowly, muse, and tread 
 
 O'er vanquished trunks, moss-grown and dead ; 
 
 Bend back the boughs, no sunbeam dwells
 
 . 198 • EPIC POEM. 
 
 Within these barricaded cells — 
 Dim forest halls where dryads dance, 
 And elfins court their changing glance — 
 Deep, deep, descending, dim and drear, 
 Ontara's home our steps are near ! 
 When noon is at its height, one smile 
 From the orb of day these shades beguile — 
 The beam is now on the Prophet's hair, 
 Behold, he stands majestic there! 
 Like one bereft, whose memory dwells 
 In its murmuring heart, like sighing shells : 
 An image seems to move his brain ; 
 " I must see the pale-faced maid again : 
 Whence came this bird of tender wing? 
 Her voice is like the sigh of Spring ! 
 She breathes upon the Indian child. 
 And the dim young heart, by nature wild, 
 Unused to smiles and gentle love, 
 Becomes a playmate for the dove ! 
 Great Manito ! whence comes the power 
 Of one so frail — the pale-faced flower ? " 
 This struggle of conflicting thought, 
 With visions of the past inwrought. 
 Burns fierce within his troubled life — 
 'Tis undefined, unfathomed strife ! 
 Sadly he fails to comprehend 
 The waves with which the ether blend — 
 The mortal with the spiritual ; there's 
 A ruffle on the tide that bears 
 His thought untutored to the sea 
 Of wisdom's grand immensity ; 
 And more tumultuous it may rise 
 With superstition's sacrifice.
 
 MISSLON BRIDE. 199. 
 
 A day has passed — another scene 
 
 Less wild, less calm, no less serene. 
 
 Offers a story for our page 
 
 Which many a wandering thought engage. 
 
 There enters at the open door 
 
 Where sunbeams gild the leaf-strewn floor, 
 
 An Indian form — 'tis none but he, 
 
 The Prophet, stern, and strong, and free : 
 
 His dress is not in the warrior's guise, 
 
 Unplumed his brow, a strange device 
 
 Of quills and shells adorn his breast. 
 
 Which swells like ocean's deep unrest. 
 
 " Maiden ! Ontara speaks ! He comes in peace ! 
 
 The White Dove's voice stirs all the forest leaves — 
 
 It finds the Prophet's home: Her smile is like 
 
 The evening sun — its'rays have left upon 
 
 His heart a shadow dark. Her words are sought 
 
 By all this youthful band — they hear her tell 
 
 Of " God " and sing of " Heaven ? " Our Manito 
 
 Will still restrain his curse, for the White Dove 
 
 Intends no ill ; but list ! With sight unvailed, 
 
 I see a cloud around her way — licr light 
 
 Will dim ! Maiden ! I come, thine erring feet 
 
 To warn ! " — She speaks — 
 
 " Ontara's voice is kind, his heart sincere ; 
 
 No curse, no disappointment need I fear 
 
 \\"hile dwells in Heaven the Son of Manito 
 
 \\'ho once lived on this earth — with men below! 
 
 This Son of God, with clear, unfading light. 
 
 Makes new the Indian's heart, his home more bright ;
 
 200 EPIC POEM. 
 
 y^esus, the pure and holy, is his name ; 
 
 To teach these Httle ones of Him I came — 
 
 They hear my words, and happier they smile, 
 
 No angry frowns their innocence beguile ; 
 
 Will not Ontara hear the simple lays 
 
 Of those young hearts attuned to Jesus' praise ? " 
 
 [TAe Children Sing\ 
 SONG. 
 
 " Away beyond the cloud — 
 A happy land, 
 Where angels sing aloud, 
 
 A shining band. 
 The Saviour calls to me : 
 " My child, I come to thee; " 
 From sin escape — O flee 
 To Jesus' arms ! 
 
 Yes, in that happy land 
 
 I'll make my home ; 
 I'll join the heavenly band ; 
 
 Jesus says, " come." 
 My friends I there descry — 
 Beams brightly every eye ! 
 Haste, haste i O let us fly 
 
 To Jesus' arms ! 
 
 " The cloud grows dark — the ' White Dove' will not hear, 
 The winds will sweep — the tender flower must fall ! "
 
 MISSION BRIDE. 201 
 
 He starts with rapid pace — almost with wings — 
 Within the wood and up the cliff he springs ; 
 Confusion, perturbation sways his mind — 
 He talks, he rushes on, invokes the wind, 
 The spirits of the mounts and streams ; his frown 
 Darkens the rays that through the leaves come down; 
 Yet like the unpolished diamond's hidden light 
 Do gleams of love and truth flash inly bright ! 
 Love ! love ! Fair flitting angel of the heart ! 
 
 When Nature seeks her mute allies, 
 Hast thou no ma^ic, no controlling art 
 
 To gild anticipation's skies ? 
 Must she whom disappointment marked its own, 
 
 In life's first joy-illusive day, 
 Find no return of happy blossoms flown? 
 
 Shall Hope refuse to light her way ? 
 We have not fathomed all the inward strife. 
 Though oft the screen has been removed 
 From gentle, earnest, struggling, varied life. 
 
 Of being loving, being loved! 
 Though isolated from the world refined. 
 
 By duty severed from the band 
 Of sympathetic, warm, congenial mind 
 
 That dwell in her fair native land, 
 There burns, as ever in the soul ©f youth, 
 A flame inherent with responsive love, 
 A.n ideal fervor of another's tnith. 
 Whose sweet suggestions nought can move. 
 
 Dark rolled the clouds beyond the hills, 
 Silent flowed on the murmuring rills ! 
 The sheeted lightning's varying form
 
 202 EPIC POEM. 
 
 Gives herald of approaching storm ; 
 
 And now repeated o'er the lake 
 
 Loud peals of thunder hoarsely break, 
 
 Vailing its sheen with shadows dark, 
 
 As messengers of th' electric spark : 
 
 And now the dashing torrents pour, 
 
 Commingling with the storm's fierce roar. 
 
 While sweeps the unrelenting gale 
 
 In wrath o'er wood, and hill, and vale. 
 
 'Mid this wild scene of tempest strife. 
 
 Of warring, elemental life, 
 
 A form, unbowed, unblenched remains. 
 
 While all the prairies, hills and plains. 
 
 Flood-bathed in liquid life are bowed, 
 
 Inclosed within their watery shroud. 
 
 His arms are thrown across his breast, 
 
 As if to bind his life's unrest, 
 
 While worshiping at Nature's court, 
 
 Amid her wild, untrammeled sport. 
 
 Why lost in thought the Prophet sage ? 
 
 What does his anxious soul engage ? 
 
 Emotions, superstitions rife, 
 
 Are grappling fierce in mental strife, 
 
 With truth's convictions, spirit-given, 
 
 Approved by God, and sent from heaven. 
 
 He starts; a spirit's touch it seems 
 
 Has waked him from his stormy dreams ; 
 
 He'll settle all this vain dispute ! 
 
 This Christian legend he'll refute. 
 
 Lest Manito in wrath send down 
 
 His curse, or slay them with his frown ! 
 
 He'll seek the Dove — the pale-faced maid,
 
 MISSION BRIDE. 203 
 
 And lead her through the forest glade 
 To that dark, realm beneath the ground, 
 Where tones unearthly, deep, profound, 
 Have thrilled the Prophet's swelling heart; 
 Have made his thought the counterpart 
 Of spirit, mystery and power, 
 In Manito's responsive hour ! 
 
 Shadows are stealing, longer lines 
 Creep toward the East — the sun declines — 
 The prairie's rainbow hues grow dun — 
 The horizon holds its purple rim 
 Around a dream- preparing world, 
 The hamlet's smoke is skyward curled; 
 The whip-poor-will attunes his note, 
 Aromas from the flower-cups float. 
 Irene has wandered forth to share 
 The soft enchantments of the air : 
 The beauteous scene, too fair to last, 
 Her fancy binds to the dreamy past 
 With subtle links, mysterious wrought, 
 In the hidden chambers of her thought ; 
 Her path winds towards a forest rill 
 Where fays their nectar cups might fill — 
 Those fabled sprites, reported long 
 To live on air and breathe in song ; 
 Dim shades are gathering far and wide. 
 More cool contracts th' a^'rial tide, 
 Our fairy sits beside the stream 
 Where eddies deep absorb the gleam, 
 And shadows well defined outsjjread 
 From boughs dark-waving overhead;
 
 204 EPIC POEM. 
 
 The birds last lulling notes are hushed ; 
 The tall pale grass some foot has brushed ; 
 Was it the genius of the glade ? 
 Ontara stands beside the maid ! 
 Irene is roused from this pensive mood 
 As by the voice of solitude ; 
 
 Her course she bends 
 To trace the path that homeward tends, 
 While no distrusting fears betide ; 
 The strange companion by her side 
 In silence walks. 
 
 They reach at length the cheerful cot, 
 Her mission home, an humble spot ; 
 She turns to bid the sage " good night" 
 Beneath the stars' fraternal light, 
 With sudden impulse, earnest, strong, 
 He seeks their converse to prolong, 
 While he a story shall unvail, , 
 A truth, no myth, no dreamy tale — 
 A truth, a voice from Manito, 
 Which answers from the earth below ; 
 Within, a dark, a wondrous cave. 
 Where breaks no sound of life, the grave 
 Of noiseless airs and waters dim. 
 Where the Spirit often speaks to him : 
 If she will seek this mystic grot, 
 And list in that deep cloistered 3pot, 
 The whisper and the thunder sound, 
 Far, far beneath the forest ground. 
 She there, herself the truth may hear, 
 May learn the Mighty One to fear, 
 And leave those tales, her Gospel plan.
 
 MISSION BRIDE. 205 
 
 The legend of the Saviour-Man ! 
 
 It he shall fail this truth to show 
 
 By words direct from Manito, 
 
 He will her simple faith receive, 
 
 The white man's God will then believe ! 
 
 Astonishment pervades her mind; 
 Her brief reply is cautious, kind; 
 She'll meet, before another sun, 
 Its occidental course has run, 
 Ontara in the forest grove, 
 And give refusal or approve. 
 
 What means the Indian's strange request ? 
 There's honesty within his breast. 
 Fanatical, but deep in thought ; 
 Earnest and glowing, yet untaught ; 
 Respectful, kind, importunate, 
 Unwise 'twill be if she create 
 Distrust, refusing to repair 
 Within that realm of mystic air ; 
 There's for his faith some normal cause. 
 Fulfillment of determined laws; 
 There may be sound of falling wave 
 Remote, unknown, within the cave 
 Of some weird echo may perchance 
 The Prophet's listening soul entrance ; 
 There may be in his mind's long night 
 A quivering of the Spirit's light, 
 And should she now refuse to go. 
 It might destroy the heavenly flow 
 Of that pure fountain anc' imjicl
 
 2o6 EPIC POEM. 
 
 A darker stream its hopes to quell ! 
 
 She has no fear when by his side, 
 
 Believes no danger will betide 
 
 The venturous journey ; she may prove 
 
 The fallacy and thus remove 
 
 The vail of error, and unbind 
 
 The chains around his vigorous mind ! 
 
 While musing thus a silvery cloud 
 
 Draws o'er the rising moon a shroud, 
 
 And night advancing calms the thrill 
 
 Of active life, and all is still. 
 
 Her spirit hails the long ago, 
 
 " Go forth, Irene, to duty go," 
 
 That angel mother's soul again. 
 
 Persuasive breathes a voiceless strain : 
 
 She doubts no more — she falters not, 
 
 Resolves with him to seek the grot ; 
 
 Then, safe from fears, a sweet release. 
 
 She sleeps beneath the shades of peace. 
 
 'Tis Autumn : Mild and clear arose 
 
 The morning sun; soft tints of rose 
 
 And blue, uniting in the West 
 
 Adorn it with a purple crest : 
 
 While wasting dews and flower-sweets blend, 
 
 Our maiden with her trusty friend 
 
 Are found upon their forest way. 
 
 Varied with ferns, or blossoms gay, 
 
 Where prairies insulate the wood, 
 
 Where life is free in solitude. 
 
 Where bird and beast in wildness roam, 
 
 And streams eccentric sing and foam.
 
 MISSION BRIDE. 207 
 
 Four days they journeyed through the wild ; 
 
 Each night Ontara faggots piled] 
 
 Whose cheering blaze dispersed the gloom, 
 
 And checked the owl's dolorous tune ; 
 
 A light which bade the wolf be still, 
 
 Or howl his watch on the distant hill : 
 
 At midnight when the panther's screams 
 
 Disturbed her half-remembered dreams, 
 
 Or the wild-cat broke the stilly air, 
 
 Like some lone goblin of despair, 
 
 Irene upon her couch of boughs 
 
 Would from her dreamy slumbers rouse ; 
 
 Then conscious of her safe repose. 
 
 Again her willing eyelids close. 
 
 And fearless in the darkness sleep 
 
 Till sunbeams through the shadows creep. 
 
 Morning — bright minister of truth ! 
 
 There's health and beauty in thy youth ; 
 
 No hand more fresh and fair than thine 
 
 Could Peace desire to deck her shrine ! 
 
 Progressing on tlieir cheerful way, 
 
 They reached a bluff at noon of day. 
 
 Where floating by the river's side 
 
 A birch canoe was safely tied : 
 
 Upward, slow-gliding on the stream. 
 
 When slanting fell the sunset's beam, 
 
 They landed near the lonely grot — 
 
 A rare, a wild, deserted spot ! 
 
 Huge trees, gray angulated rocks. 
 
 Fragments of post-diluvian shocks, 
 
 (inarled trunks uptorn by Borean powers 
 
 Green matted brush and straggling flowers,
 
 2o8 EPIC POEM. 
 
 O'erhanging vines and lichens red, 
 
 With mosses Uke crimped emerald spread ; 
 
 From human haunts though far and lone, 
 
 Their ears still catch the life-like tone, 
 
 "The bird of many voices"* sung, 
 
 The jay's shrill note through shadows rung, 
 
 The oriole's enchanting lay, 
 
 Uniting with the red-bird gay. 
 
 Composed an Orphean roundelay. 
 
 We must not tarry here, he said. 
 
 And back the boughs Ontara laid ; 
 
 Irene beheld the cavern's gloom, 
 
 It might be her untimely tomb : 
 
 Then tremblings o'er her being crept, 
 
 While awful mysteries briefly kept 
 
 Suggestions of a fearful power 
 
 For the undeveloped coming hour. 
 
 Clambering adown the slowly shelving plane. 
 They enter now the still and dim domain, 
 By Hght deserted; as the rushing breath 
 Strikes coldly on their brows, a thought of death 
 Sends through the soul a corresponding chill, 
 Reacting soon to give a feverish thrill : 
 And, till the subtle force Jehovah wields 
 Plows up again those subterranean fields. 
 The torch alone, upheld aloft, displays 
 The arch, the handiwork of unknown days. 
 A page chronology may never claim. 
 But on that lofty frieze behold its Maker's name ! 
 
 * "The American bird of many voices that laughs at the elo- 
 quence of man." — JVi/son's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland,
 
 MISSION BRIDE. 209 
 
 No azure-beaming, silver-shrouding skies 
 Sheds lustre on their path ; ungemmed it lies 
 Where never springs the dew-delighting grass, 
 The rainbow's emerald beauty to surpass ; 
 No sound of lowing herd, no warblers song, 
 No stir of breeze, no hum of insect throng ; 
 Sound — sound ! there is no sound — 'tis death. 
 The stillness that succeeds departing breath : 
 Yet, do their hearts beat strong and noiseless here, 
 And every pause awakens trembling fear. 
 Is danger there ? No spectre haunts the eye. 
 The shadow of no monster they descry, 
 While all along their rocky winding way 
 Bold fragments — relics huge — their eyes survey, 
 Vast broken column, dark, worn battlement, 
 Which struggled, while the shaft of ages spent 
 Its purpose, with the constant flowing wave, 
 Extending slow the regions of the cave; 
 These, once the unbroken granite's high compeer. 
 Like giants vanquished now lie prostrate here! 
 Are these the symbols of his matchless power, 
 "The Wonderful" who reared the mountain's tower! 
 God's autographs upon the mystic scroll 
 Which waits in judgment on the human soul! 
 Which draped in night support these rayless halls 
 Where sprites unearthly hold their festivals ! 
 Ah ! what response shall e'er the truth disclose 
 Which Time has locked within his death-repose ! 
 Death ! O shivering dread! amid such gloom! 
 A doubly mournful death, with such a tomb I 
 Kence, dreadful thought ! Ye fancies vain retire. 
 Enkindle not the mind's consuming fire ! 
 14
 
 2IO EPIC POEM. 
 
 On they proceed — descend, diverge or climb, 
 Losing all common note of passing time ; 
 And life might deem its earthly measure run, 
 With Night's grim empire in the soul begun ! 
 Their torches now diffuse a spectral gleam 
 Upon a dark, a still, Lethean stream 
 Which flows below their path as though its glide — 
 Was from the realm of Hades, terrified ! 
 Embarking in a low canoe, they pass 
 Slowly upon this shaded sea of glass ; 
 Within high mural walls, stern, damp, and gray, 
 A hundred fathoms 'neath the realm of day ! 
 
 Our travellers reach a pebbly strand, 
 
 Where from its curving, surface-land, 
 
 Two branches hence the way assumes. 
 
 Through higher-arching rocky rooms ; 
 
 And where these mystic arms disjoin, 
 
 To differing halls afar incline, 
 
 A huge stalactite, roughly grooved. 
 
 Has age on age remained unmoved, 
 
 A mile-stone for the spectral gnomes 
 
 Who sought v/ithin their cavern homes, 
 
 VVhen dark disorder, stern and grim, 
 
 Sent forth a wild, chaotic hymn. 
 
 Ontara pauses at its base ; 
 
 A deep, strong purpose in his face 
 
 Directs the maiden there to rest, 
 
 And list the wondrous spirit-test : 
 
 Then, on the shaft one hand he lays, 
 
 And as his eyelids upward raise, 
 
 His voice, though strong, and firm, and clear.
 
 iMISSlON BRIDE. 211 
 
 Commingles cadences of fear. 
 
 He speaks: "Art thou great Manito?" 
 
 The echo answers : " Manito." 
 
 Assurance gained, he speaks again, 
 
 And louder swells the inquiring strain : 
 
 " Is the Christian's God a foolish dream ? " 
 
 " The Christian's God a foolish dream." 
 
 And now a whisper moves his tongne, 
 
 Softly those far, far aisles among, 
 
 The gentle answer comes in strains 
 
 Ot wild, mysterious refrains : 
 
 " Is the story of the Saviour false ?" 
 
 " The story of the Saviour false" 
 
 The prophet now more freely breathes, 
 
 And firmer still his dream believes. 
 
 Exultant brief the silence breaks, 
 
 " The White Dove hears — the Mighty speaks ! " 
 
 He waits to hear the maid's reply, 
 
 And seeks conviction in her eye, 
 
 While she perplexed with doubt, e'en now 
 
 Would fain proceed, but knows not how 
 
 To break the spell and not unbind 
 
 A fearful tempest in his minrl ; 
 
 She steps, upl)orne by heavenly power 
 
 Beside the carbonated tower, 
 
 And, as the prophet, invocates 
 
 The truth which to this test relates : 
 
 "Art thou the Christian's God ? " 
 
 The answer comes: " The Christian's God" 
 Again she speaks in louder tone ; 
 " Is there of gods one, only one ? " • 
 
 The voice is heard, responsive plain :
 
 212 EPIC POEM. 
 
 " Of gods one, otily one" Again, 
 
 She whispers : " Is the Saviour true ? " 
 
 Distinctive sounds, " the Saviour true" 
 
 The test is passed : they hence retire; 
 
 His eyes retain a wavering fire, 
 
 Which as their orbs incessant roll, 
 
 Proclaim his agitated soul : 
 
 While o'er their way, dark, subterrene, 
 
 They leave this strange, this thrilling scene. 
 
 As from the cavern they emerge, 
 The sunbeams o'er the eastern verge 
 Light up the vista of the wood 
 And radiate the solitude. 
 While Nature's charms own treble power 
 In that appreciative hour. 
 Bewildered by the darkness' loss, 
 Irene sinks on a couch of moss, 
 And rests her head upon her hand 
 At wearied nature's mute command. 
 Stern, fixed, unyielding, grave and proud, 
 The seer remained, his head unbowed, 
 His eye bent on the maid, till thought 
 Grew softened, by the gentler taught : 
 And now he speaks — his accents move, 
 And seem akin to those of love. 
 
 " The eagle bold may list a voice that flows 
 Like Minnehaha's silver-singing tide, 
 
 As soft as Cantantowit's* hand bestows 
 
 The Indian summer when the streams are wide." 
 
 7- 
 
 * The southwest wind.
 
 MISSION BRIDE. 213 
 
 Like whispering echoes that unbar 
 The gloom of solitudes afar, 
 Invited thus, sincerity 
 Spoke gently in her utterance free. 
 
 " Ontara knows the failure of the test, 
 And doubt is striving in his anxious breast; 
 But list, my friend, that voice, so plain, so clear, 
 Was but your own brought back upon your ear; 
 Thus any tone would roll its numbers round, 
 And echo back within its depths profound : 
 Tliey were not words of God, yet they declare 
 His power is there, is here, everywhere ! " 
 
 These thoughts remain in her listener's breast, 
 
 As embryos still but living rest; 
 
 And, when the shadows shun the day. 
 
 They are marshalled on their homeward way. 
 
 Ontara moody strode along, 
 
 The maiden's voice broke forth in song — 
 
 A song of home — of the bright brief past. 
 
 Ere her childhood's sky was overcast ; 
 
 Her notes at first were warbled slow. 
 
 And then, as if some higher thought 
 
 Her sensibilities inwrought, 
 
 More loud and free rang out the sound 
 
 In the choral's rich, melodious bound. 
 
 Till the floating cadence, distant, clear, 
 
 Fell softly on a fainting ear : 
 
 " Do I hear an angel's rapturous tone ? " 
 
 Murmured a lone and dying one. 
 
 The strain has ceased : still on they bear. 
 
 Our travellers fear no danger there !
 
 214 EPIC POEM. 
 
 But see, they pause beside a rill, 
 
 There's a sudden silence, all is still ; 
 
 What chains Ontara's flashing eyes ? 
 
 The mute Irene — what her surprise ? 
 
 Is the panther there crouched low to slay 
 
 His unoffending, helpless prey ? 
 
 Or human foe has the prophet seen, 
 
 While his thought reverts to the fair Irene ? 
 
 Ah ! mark their hurried movements now, 
 
 Behold the maiden lowly bow 
 
 Beside a frail and wasted form. 
 
 Whose nerveless hands, with life still warm, 
 
 Upon her quiet bosom prest, 
 
 Adds a soothing sense to its feverish rest. 
 
 Irene first breaks the silence dread, 
 
 " O wherefore here ? Thou art not dead ! 
 
 Say, speak fair one ! Has a treacherous hand 
 
 Conveyed thee away from thy native land ? " 
 
 " There's a cottage near — O take me there — 
 
 I wandered too far, I could not bear 
 
 The gentle walk, and laid me down ; 
 
 My life is spent, I am almost gone." 
 
 That scene was strange and dark to him ; 
 
 He watched the twain, while grew more dim 
 
 The twilight's leaf-embroidered vail, 
 
 And the gems of night were glistening pale : 
 
 Now bends the prophet's athlete form 
 
 To bind each dusky, sinewy arm 
 
 Around the fragile stricken girl. 
 
 While toys the air with each soft curl 
 
 That backward falls from her classic head, 
 
 And bear her on with softened tread.
 
 MISSION BRIDE. 215 
 
 Within a cot with vines ornate, 
 ^^'here kind affections gently wait. 
 There were gathered round that lowly bed 
 Stern forms and rude ; each savage head 
 With its broad dark front unyielding stood, 
 Like the minor oaks of the skirting wood. 
 If passion was there it showed no trace 
 In the lineaments of the warrior face ; 
 And the Indian matron calmly sat 
 Watching the maiden's closing fate. 
 Her eyes survey the mingled band, 
 She faintly moves her bloodless hand, 
 Calling her stranger sister near. 
 To breathe a tale in her pitying ear. 
 Irene bends o'er the suff"erer's head, 
 Solemn as though the soul had fled. 
 While those lips of beauty, trembling, pale, 
 In accents faint disclose a tale 
 Of wandering, of hope, of suffering long, 
 Of holy love, of faith grown strong. 
 " Maiden, I know not who thou art. 
 But thine I feel is a gentle heart; 
 Like my own lost sister dear, you seem — 
 How strange ! How strangely like a dream ! 
 Sweet Bertha died 'neath the skies of France, 
 When the vales were green in the vernal glance ; 
 And exiled from our vine-wreathed land, 
 My parents joined a hopeful band — 
 They escaped the surging ocean's wave, 
 But in the river found a grave. 
 Almost in sight of that curving sweep 
 Of its rising western bank, where deej)
 
 2i6 EPIC POEM. 
 
 The waters roll their current round, 
 By a trading-post, near a lofty mound.* 
 While clinging to a floating oar, 
 I reached the distant river-shore, 
 But yet no trace two years have brought 
 To soothe my boding, anxious thought. 
 Some hunters of this tribe were near, 
 Whose kindness soon dispelled my fear, 
 Administered to my relief. 
 And brought me to their friendly chief. 
 These people, wild, and strange, and rude, 
 Are kind amid their solitude ; 
 Nay, these, the dwellers of this cot. 
 Their superstitions all forgot, 
 Have sought forgiveness from above. 
 And found the peace of a Saviour's love : 
 But life recedes — its early close 
 Whispers to me of sweet repose. 
 While memories flash their lingering spell 
 O'er my beautiful past I loved too well ! 
 I die in peace : if these friends are saved, 
 'Tis the highest boon my soul has craved : 
 From this lonely wild I must soon away — 
 Tell me, dear maiden, canst thou pray ? " 
 She kneeled, and from her lips there broke 
 Accents that first in heaven awoke ; 
 Unwavering, forcive, sweetly clear. 
 That prayer fell on the spell-bound ear, 
 And electrified the Indian soul 
 With new, divine, complete control. 
 The prophet gazed with awe that proved 
 * The locality of St. Louis.
 
 MISSION BRIDE. 217 
 
 How the dying scene his soul had moved, 
 
 And hung upon the whispering breath 
 
 That murmured Christian hope in death, 
 
 Till borne upon the eternal tide, 
 
 The last receding tone had died. 
 
 Expanding to a wider scope 
 
 Of newly quickened, heavenly hope. 
 
 The soul, full-plumed with angel might, 
 
 Its transit waits from earthly night; 
 
 While the lip's last quiver, eyes' strange gleam, 
 
 .A.S though the long-expected beam 
 
 Flashed down to meet it from the skies. 
 
 And moveless — dead — the pale one lies. 
 
 Softly the forest turf is laid 
 On the resting-place of the lonely maid ; 
 While wildly floats an Indian song 
 From the mourners of that solemn throng. 
 And the homeless one is left to sleep 
 Where flickering light and shadow creep 
 F'rom year to year, from spring to spring. 
 Where no loved one's hand may ever bring 
 His wreath of flowers, his urn of tears, 
 Till the resurrection morn appears. 
 
 Three days have told their beading hours, 
 
 No cloud o'er the sea of sunset towers, 
 
 And in the twilight's gentle gloam 
 
 Our travellers each have found their home. 
 
 Irene responds to duty's call. 
 
 As though the chimes ol a festival 
 
 Gave dancing measure to her feet.
 
 2i8 EPIC POEM. 
 
 And made her loving labors sweet. 
 
 But, struggles deep, a war of thought 
 
 Has in the prophet's being wrought 
 
 Necessity, whose full demand 
 
 Must swell — resurge, must roll expand, 
 
 As swells the pent-up clamorous tide. 
 
 Till bursting free, and wild, and wide. 
 
 It overleaps each barrier rock 
 
 And scatters far its vapory flock. 
 
 Rushing to valley freedom, where, 
 
 Seaward its sunnier waters bear. 
 
 His lonely home has lost its power 
 
 To satisfy this trying hour, 
 
 And again he leaves its sheltering shade 
 
 To commune with her — the Christian maid. 
 
 "White Dove! Ontara speaks again. His heart 
 
 Is moved. There's light and darkness in his soul. 
 
 The Indian's Manito no more looks down ; 
 
 The breeze that stirs the pine is not his voice — 
 
 The sunshine of the skies is not his smile — 
 
 The music of harmonious waters not 
 
 His song ! Ontara's pathway through the wood, 
 
 'Tis like the way of death ! Pray, maiden, pray ! 
 
 The Saviour is thy friend. 'Twas he who broke 
 
 The spell within the cavern wild, and gave 
 
 To nature's voice a power, which spoke, and shamed 
 
 The prophets's pride. The path that now conducts 
 
 Ontara's steps to the bright land is dark, from thence 
 
 No hght appears, no spirit-voices call ; 
 
 Ontara trembles — lo ! a sudden light. 
 
 Another light, half dim, half clear, flashes
 
 MISSION BRIDE. 219 
 
 Across his path. Tis from the Christian's God ! 
 'Twas this that gave the dying maiden peace ! 
 He heard thy prayer ! Pray, pray again ! " 
 
 " Yes, brother, I will pray, and you 
 Must ask of Jesus, kind and true, 
 Pardon for sins we all possess, 
 And God Ontara's heart will bless. 
 When the morrow's hours the sun has told, 
 And evening spreads its cloth of gold 
 Around his nightly parting way. 
 Return, and we again will pray." 
 
 The morning wakes like freedom's voice, 
 
 And life, and love anew rejoice, 
 
 While autumn's shortening pathway tells, 
 
 W' ith pensive voice of its past farewells. 
 
 Owasso wanders forth to greet 
 
 His teacher with an oftermg sweet. 
 
 Of blossom wild and fragrant bough. 
 
 His heart absorbed, he knows not how ; 
 
 For yet the mystery of life. 
 
 Of love's development and strife. 
 
 Has ne'er awakened, keen, defined. 
 
 Insatiate longings in his mind; 
 
 And manhood's dawning promise brings, 
 
 Awaiting near with latent springs, 
 
 A higher future, marked and bold, 
 
 By superstition uncontrolled. 
 
 He meets her where the brooklet turns 
 
 To hide itself 'neath waving ferns. 
 
 And, with pleasure beaming in his face, 
 
 Presents the flowers with rustic grace.
 
 220 EPIC POEM. 
 
 The day declines; the children gone, 
 
 The teacher, musing, sits alone : 
 
 A shadow by the window passed ; 
 
 The prophet's presence, brow o'ercast, 
 
 And aspect mild, awakes the power 
 
 Of sympathy — the present hour 
 
 Demands her faith. She kneels in prayer, 
 
 As gently as the willows bear 
 
 Their graceful branches down to earth. 
 
 And long implores the spirit's birth 
 
 Of that sincere, unlettered mind, 
 
 By superstition long confined. 
 
 Silent they parted, but the glow 
 
 Of spirit-life, its heavenly flow. 
 
 Like Moses on the mount divine. 
 
 Appeared upon his face to shine. 
 
 * * # * 
 
 With life, and bloom, and music tone, 
 The days of spring come speeding on ; 
 So fly our years from youth to age. 
 While manhood's purposes engage 
 Rich promises of fruit mature. 
 Whose germs, alas ! may not endure 
 When o'er the path of life is cast 
 One angry sweep of sorrow's blast. 
 
 Woodvale awoke one balmy morn. 
 Some with the sun, some with the dawn. 
 Both young and old, serene and gay. 
 To welcome those from far away 
 Before the rustic church has been 
 A platform spread upon the green.
 
 MISSION BRIDE. 221 
 
 And rough-hewn seats are ranged around 
 'I'he shaded, elevated ground. 
 The hour appointed brings them near, 
 Pedestrians, horsemen — all appear ; 
 Matrons and maidens, children come, 
 And Indians from the forest's home. 
 Fragrant and soft the summer air 
 Kissed every head uncovered there ; 
 O'er some high brows the silvery wreath 
 Of age shed light on lids beneath. 
 And bronzed and sunken cheeks betrayed 
 The sacrifice their lives had made : 
 Irene is there, the usual grace 
 Of thought and kindness in her face ; 
 And though subdued, a few short years 
 Have left no trace of sorrow's tears ! 
 For life's content and life's employ 
 Perfect in peace, preserve its joy, 
 Which, gem-like, on the casket throw 
 Beauty's fair radiating glow. 
 Beneath that canopy of skies. 
 An unexpected voice defies 
 All rules of etiquette, and strong 
 His utterance thrills the listening throng 
 
 " Ontara, prophet of the tribes, has come 
 
 To tell Jehovah's children of his peace! 
 
 The white man's God is mine ! Irene, the Dove 
 
 Of Manito — the Christian maid — has come ! 
 
 The Saviour gave her wings and power of prayer. 
 
 She brought the prophet peace! Her love dispersed 
 
 The clouds around his soul. Now all is light !
 
 222 EPIC POEM. 
 
 Warriors ! brothers ! hear the words of truth ! 
 This Hght will save my people. They must pray ; 
 God, the Great Spirit, will forgive their sins 
 For Jesus' sake, and heaven shall be their home." 
 
 He ceased ; but still his searching eyes survey. 
 And rest on her who taught his lips to pray ; 
 As toward her bent a hundred eager eyes, 
 In awe, respect, in love, in glad surprise, 
 Conscious as curious interest toward her turned, 
 Irene's fair cheek with modest blushes burned ; 
 When, gently thrilling, like the breezes flown, 
 Fell on her ear a well-rembered tone : 
 " Irejie ! the dia7?iond in the darkest mine 
 Forgets not ever it has power to shine ! " * 
 
 These words, though startling, magic in their power 
 
 To make an era of the passing hour, 
 
 Produced no fainting, no impulsive rush 
 
 Of recognition, but a deepening flush 
 
 Of unexpected pleasure ; while the past 
 
 In panoramic shadow overcast 
 
 The view around her — all its joy, its grief. 
 
 Its dreams that faded, like the summer leaf. 
 
 Illumined, through the present's magic screen. 
 
 Became one grand but quickly changing scene ! 
 
 James Mortimer was there ! His thoughtful brow. 
 
 The same as when he breathed his early vow ; 
 
 Benign, in manly dignity, which told 
 
 The worth of Ufe unchained by love of gold. 
 
 He passed, and on the rostrum meets 
 His brothers — each the other greets ; 
 * See Page 136.
 
 MISSION BRIUE. 223 
 
 The secvice, earnest, fervent, strong. 
 Now moves in prayer, now thrills in song. 
 Now truths in exhortation glow, 
 And tears of true repentance flow 
 From hearts that soften in the hght 
 Of faith and hope — effulgence bright ! 
 Four days are gone : the sunset spoke. 
 Effective as the minster's stroke; 
 They parted : evening's shadowy gloara 
 Gathered around each humble home. 
 
 The moon had risen ; Peace surveyed 
 With pure delight the prairie glade ; 
 Its radiance like a blissful spell 
 Around two forms benignly fell, 
 They are seated on a mossy rock 
 AVhere gently speads a branching oak. 
 
 " Irene! that well-remembered night 
 
 We parted, in yon moon's fair light. 
 
 That autumn hour of pensive shade. 
 
 A seal upon my being laid. 
 
 Yes, dearest girl, my love for thee 
 
 Has cheered my way continually ; 
 
 For since my heart's warm tendrils clung 
 
 Round thee, my gentler self; I've sung 
 
 One song in all my thoughts of love — 
 
 Irene is mine, we'll meet above. 
 
 Thus, heaven-impressed, I've cheerful bowed 
 
 To duty's fire, its moving cloud ; 
 
 And through its God-sustaining power, 
 
 I've seen the germ of truth in flower;
 
 224 EPIC POEM. 
 
 Man's inner sense, base, low, and blind, 
 Receive new light from Shiloh's mind ! 
 Ay, God has blessed my thorny way. 
 And crowned it with this joyous day ! 
 My dearest ! He who tuned the lyres, 
 Who kindled life's deep, quenchless fires, 
 All harmony, all feeling, here. 
 Within this vast unfathomed sphere 
 Of mortal and immortal life. 
 Where disobedience woke the strife ; 
 Pure Love, the essence of His breath, 
 Has indestructible, death made. 
 By soul intelligence and power — 
 It dies not like a withered flower. 
 But claims for aye perfected spheres. 
 Which knows not country, home, nor years ; 
 Commingling as the clouds of even, 
 Where two in one begin their heaven. 
 Angel of mine ! of waiting years. 
 Pearls rare and holy are these tears ; 
 They give my heart a full assent 
 To bliss united — love's content. 
 Strange prescience of this day was mine, 
 While unrebuked my heart would twine 
 Wreaths, flowery structures, shadowy bloom, 
 Dispelling all foreboding gloom : 
 Now, blest reality, I claim 
 No richer gift, no boon of fame ; 
 Kind heaven has sent thee to my arms. 
 Earth's wild reveals its Eden's charms ! " 
 * * * "I did not know 
 I loved you in that long ago.
 
 MISSION BRIDE. 221 
 
 My morning years were chilled with gloom 
 
 When sorrow draped each parent's tomb; 
 
 And yet with energy sublime 
 
 My buoyant nature still would climb 
 
 Anticipation's mountain fair, 
 
 To breathe a less material air; 
 
 It looked, alas ! to one afar, 
 
 As toward the pole's bright, moveless star ! 
 
 'Twas then I met your genial smile. 
 
 On life's deep sea it was an isle 
 
 Of beauty — an oasis green. 
 
 Upon the desert's burning sheen ! 
 
 I felt for you a sister's care, 
 
 Nor knew there dwelt within the air 
 
 We both inhaled a prescient power. 
 
 The spirit of this present hour! 
 
 A destmy whose office sought 
 
 A union of our life and thought. 
 
 How wisely hidden from our ken 
 
 Events determined ! Fondly then 
 
 My inexpressive nature dwelt 
 
 On dreamy vistas. Vailed, unfelt, 
 
 Was disappointment's barb of woe ; 
 
 Alas ! its wild, vehement flow, 
 
 Impelled my lonely, fragile bark, 
 
 Too near destruction's maelstrom dark I 
 
 But, rescued from the mortal brink 
 
 By unseen arms, I woke to think 
 
 (Jf higher duty. Oscar's fate 
 
 •Made youth more strong, but less elate; 
 
 Antl though the sunrise rose was gone, 
 
 New blo')m might cheer the morrow's dawn."
 
 226 EPIC POEM. 
 
 'Mid nature's life-awaking scene, 
 
 We sing the nuptials of Irene : 
 
 Winter with snowy footsteps bore 
 
 Diurnal treasures to the shore, 
 
 Of time departed. Warming gleams 
 
 Woke radiant rainbows, Summer's dreams, 
 
 And Spring now swells the surging tide 
 
 Of human life, and love, and pride. 
 
 That ethereal orb which long ago 
 
 Blest Eden with its evening glow, 
 
 Whose hallowing dream of light divine. 
 
 More sweet and sacred grows with time. 
 
 Gave the only pearls to her braided hair ; 
 
 No orange bloom, no fabric rare. 
 
 No woven vail sustained a charm 
 
 Around her lithe and trembling form ; 
 
 No fair attendants strewed with flowers 
 
 The pathway of the nuptial hours ; 
 
 Her fair soft cheeks were calm and pale, 
 
 Her bright eyes flashed, but looked too frail ; 
 
 And her hps were tinted with the dyes 
 
 Azaleas wear 'neath April skies. 
 
 Few friends were gathered round the pair 
 
 Whose lives were one united prayer ; 
 
 But free emotions warm expressed, 
 
 The kind desires of every breast. 
 
 Ontara, still the wild, the free. 
 Was leaning 'gainst an aged tree, 
 Whose shade in calm beatitude 
 Fell deep around that cottage rude : 
 Intent, he watched the bridal scene,
 
 MISSION BRIDE. 227 
 
 And then advancing toward Irene, 
 Displayed a pouch of bead and quill, 
 Which buds and milk-white blossoms fill ; 
 A species wild, unique, and strange, 
 And seldom found in the forest's range. 
 The bride received the gift from one 
 Whose strange, deep soul, on her's had won, 
 And the prophet left the marriage scene 
 With step subdued and thoughtful mien. 
 Reader, we may not pass along 
 To close the medley of our song, 
 {As oft, when love has been the theme, 
 The story ends when ends the dream,) 
 Until we shall to thee unfold 
 A tale of progress, life and gold. 
 
 Ten years have passed: the scene is changed, 
 And childhood has to manhood ranged. 
 Since the teacher with her husband found 
 A home by other circles bound. 
 Woodvale — how changed to former eyes! 
 'Tis 'neath the same rich western skies ; 
 The streamlet round it murmurs still, 
 Save where engrossed by a noisy mill ; 
 A generous growth of leafy sheen 
 Now waves upon the central green ; 
 Like monitors, three humble spires 
 Wake thought to life's more pure desires; 
 And far around the forest line 
 Has circled back : a fruitful mine 
 Of leaden ore has been explored, 
 Which yields to labor due reward ;
 
 228 EPIC POEM. 
 
 The Indian homes are farther on, 
 
 And many an aged warrior gone. 
 
 Our prophet sage still lives to prove 
 
 His Christian zeal, his faithful love ; 
 
 Patient he taught the lispmg tongue. 
 
 Advised the old, watched o'er the young, 
 
 And many a heart has learned to pray. 
 
 And sought through him the heavenly way : 
 
 His form erect, is often seen 
 
 Within the church or on the green, 
 
 And his enlightened people bless 
 
 Christ's heralds to the wilderness. 
 
 To this life-hallowed, busy scene, 
 
 At duty's call, return Irene 
 
 And Mortimer, while welcomes rare 
 
 Are showered on the happy pair ; 
 
 For memory in the Indian mind. 
 
 Its fadeless wreath of love has twined. 
 
 To see these children of the wood 
 
 Eager to claim the spirit's food. 
 
 Angels might smile with new delight. 
 
 As speeds the heaven-descending light. 
 
 While Mortimer with holy zeal 
 
 Proclaims the gospel's truth and weal. 
 
 Clouds follow sunshine — pain and pleasure,. 
 Along life's path, quick paces measure ; 
 On Time's huge signet change is wrought, 
 And man's kaleidoscope of thought 
 Can neither light or shade dismiss, 
 Whose living medley heightens bliss. 
 But now the shadow is before us,
 
 MISSION BRIDE. 229 
 
 And Death is near with voice dolorous ! 
 
 His wand has bent a warning stroke 
 
 Upon the proud, gigantic oak, 
 
 Whose strong, concentering forces seek 
 
 Of glory in its fall to speak. 
 
 The prophet feels his hour is nigh, 
 
 And brighter glows his piercing eye, 
 
 Which strengthens with its weight of thought, 
 
 As though 'twere from the Eternal caught ! 
 
 Dark warnors stand around his bed 
 
 In solemn, mute, majestic dread ; 
 
 Before him sweeps the untried shore 
 
 No mortal vision may explore ; 
 
 His spirit seems to pierce the screen. 
 
 Suspended, life and death between. 
 
 ONTARA'S PROPHECY. 
 
 •" Life's sunset glimmers on Ontara's path ! 
 The visioned future, changing with its light 
 Of living story, moves before his gaze! 
 The moons of many years have passed away : 
 Countless and free, throughout the spacious vale, 
 Where Mississippi flows, tne mighty dwell! 
 The bison shuns the prairies wide — he smells 
 The gun-smoke of the white man boUl — he seeks 
 The mountain vales, where streams in summer make 
 The blossoms laugh ! The red man fades away ; 
 His hunting-grounds are smooth and waving plains: 
 The pale-face gathers there the bread which feeds
 
 230 EPIC POEM. 
 
 The millions of his tribes ! The eagle leaves 
 
 His home upon the dizzy mountain verge; 
 
 He parts the cloud and poises o'er the land, 
 
 The guardian symbol of its power and truth [ 
 
 The sounds of war have ceased — the tomahawk 
 
 Is buried. The distant fatherland has lost 
 
 Its hold, as bounds aloft this giant realm, 
 
 And revels in its manhood, freedom, strength ! 
 
 Now moves the huge canoe upon the breast 
 
 Of every mighty stream. It flaps its wings. 
 
 And breathes like stormy winds among the bluffs ! 
 
 Its fearful voice is like the dying scream 
 
 Of monsters dread, and echoes far away ! 
 
 The watery bosom trembles as it bears 
 
 The winged canoes, deep ladened with the wealth 
 
 Of mighty cities. Where stands the Big-chief mound,* 
 
 Rolls up black smoke, a cloud, a blanket for 
 
 The sky ! No red man's camp is there. Lo ! lo ! 
 
 He's passed away ; gone, gone ! Lone 
 
 And desolate, a few now tread the vales 
 
 Of silent mountains, on the sunset shore ! 
 
 The white man's love of gold and liquid fire 
 Have burned and desolated all my race. 
 O God ! thy way is in the deep : give, give 
 That faith which through the blackest night 
 Beholds thy face 1 * * * 
 
 Hark ! distant rumbling sounds salute my ears ; 
 They seem^like wheels which rolling shake the ground ! 
 Before, a snorting steed whose nostrils pour 
 A stream of fire, and in his whirling speed. 
 
 * The vicinity of St. Louis.
 
 MISSION BRIDE. 231 
 
 Shrill yells are heard which shame the jianther wild, 
 And send the fierce black wolf low crouching to 
 His hidden forest lair ! 
 
 The white man's home 
 Spreads o'er the plains afar, and lines the banks 
 Of all our mighty streams. The spreading oak 
 Is cleft in beams, and clay in burning piles 
 Is turned to stone. His wigwam towers to heaven ! 
 And there his temples rise wherein the voice 
 Of Jesus speaks, where music stirs, and calls 
 The sinner back. • * * 
 
 The black and solid bone of earth is raised 
 From its deep bed ; it shines like lightning o'er 
 The wave. It shoots its thousand tongues of fire 
 To light the night, to chase away the cold. 
 When God enkindles deep, internal fires, 
 It opens chasms huge, and shakes the land. 
 Turns back the rivers' course, and crumbles down 
 Their banks. The earth gives up its leaden bars. 
 Its iron strength, its gold, its copper, sinews. 
 The fruits of all this teeming land are borne 
 On white-winged boats across the distant sea, 
 Whose wave is salt and blue, to powerful kings 1 
 And thus a nation in its morning life 
 Becomes supreme in love of wealth, in pride 
 
 Of gold, in prowess and in glory ! 
 
 ******* 
 
 There's a deep shadow on the morning's brow ! 
 I fain would shut my eyes, but God reveals 
 The dismal horrors of those damning sins. 
 Where blood is eleansed alone by brothers' blood ; 
 Where j)ain is eased alone by keener |)ain 1
 
 232 EPIC POEM. 
 
 Where triumph saddens and in grief must weep ! 
 Jehovah's hand has marked the fall ! Stars leave 
 The sky. The eagle seeks his mountain home / 
 O God ! turn back that page of woe and death ! 
 Illume the darkening night ! Arrest the flow 
 Of blood fraternal ! Rebuke the carrion bird 
 Which hovers o'er the plains of freedom's strife ! 
 Waken the song of busy life anew ! 
 Touch a sweet strain of soft recall ! Inspire 
 The bloom of peace ! Light ! Hght 1 light ! " 
 
 Still moved the prophet's restless eye, 
 Its quivering glances sought the sky, 
 Till closed each lid, while o'er his face 
 Spread softly a peculiar grace ; 
 His hand still waved, pulsation fled, 
 It dropped ; the seer is with the dead. 
 
 The tale is told — we leave the theme 
 
 And rest our eyes on life's strange dream. 
 
 Surveying truth in noblest guise, 
 
 Blooming beneath its native skies; 
 
 The Indian prophet's story proves 
 
 The source of pure, benignant loves. 
 
 The power which through his clouded life, 
 
 Through rude, perverted, mental strife, 
 
 Broke forth in living light to bless 
 
 The wanderers of the wilderness. 
 
 We may not bid farewell to one 
 
 Through whose sweet influence all was done, 
 
 Before we twine a parting wreath, 
 
 Memento of the orphan's death.
 
 MISSION BRIDE. 233 
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 Weep not for those who die in summer's prime; 
 
 Whose breath departs ere noonday's hopeful chime ; 
 
 Who pass serenely from their labors here, 
 
 Reliant on the future ; whom no tear 
 
 Of life's regret betrays life's purpose failed, 
 
 Whose love of duty grief has left unquailed ; 
 
 Rejoice that mortal fears, and storm, and cloud 
 
 On them was wasted like a snowy shroud 
 
 On April's bloom ; that Virtue's morning beams 
 
 Were n6t dispelled by disappointment's dreams! 
 
 Dear reader, such was she whose being kept 
 Its own chaste sanctity ; from which there crept 
 No self-polluting shadow, no distrust 
 Of man or God, beheving nature just: 
 Whose life was self-possessed, content, complete, 
 Heroic, hopeful, loving. 
 
 We have seen 
 The gentle childhood of the pure Irene; 
 The roses of her youth before us smiled. 
 Not rare exotics, not the blossoms wild 
 Of pasture, prairie, wood, or ruins damp. 
 Deserted garden, or of poisonous swamp ; 
 But virtues cultured by the careful hand 
 Of parents whcj in love and strength command. 
 And we have seen the dew of morning love. 
 Ere yet her virgin heart had sought to rove. 
 Descend upon its fair parterre, and shine 
 In radiance, which no iris may combine!
 
 234 EPIC POEM. 
 
 Love's early dream, with immemorial art, 
 
 Kindled the sleeping raptures of her heart, 
 
 And life was bliss. * * # 
 
 * * The sorrowing climax came, 
 
 And " Oscar" lived — a sweet, unuttered name, 
 
 A memory, a hope of heaven — then life 
 
 Seemed but a monitor of duty's strife ; 
 
 Still human love remained and round her woke. 
 
 Though Love's sweet woven chain was severed — broke; 
 
 And the lonely orphan found in earth's rude wild 
 
 That stars, and flowers, and sunbeam's gladness smiled, 
 
 Yet failing to remember that the star 
 
 Of morning gems the evening tiara ! 
 
 A heart by nature kindred with her own. 
 
 Repulsed, was sent to walk and hope alone; 
 
 And then the serpent trailed upon her path, 
 
 Whose slime and virus ne'er could blight or scathe 
 
 One bud of purity ! His hopes despoiled, 
 
 And vengeance on the murderer recoiled ! 
 
 But like the star that gilds the opening day, 
 
 Love's wandering radiance ere the evening lay 
 
 On hfe's dim path : She met and soon discerned 
 
 How genially its lustres for her burned ! ' 
 
 And love-accepted crowned her hopes with truth, 
 
 A stronger coronal than early youth 
 
 May wear upon its dream-dehghted brow ; 
 
 And years maturer sealed the marriage vow. 
 
 ***** 
 
 We may not dwell upon the closing scene ; 
 But, gentle reader, give our lost Irene — 
 A sigh? a tear? a song? Ah no, a smile!
 
 MISSION BRIDE. 235 
 
 A pledge of hope ; though near a lovely isle, 
 On upper Mississippi's pebbly shore, 
 Her form was laid; her spirit evermore 
 Rejoices in the Eden ot the skies — 
 A song-bird of the Saviour's Paradise. 
 
 THE END.
 
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