THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES &*3 > \ TO LOTTIE BELLE, OWN AND ONLY CHILD, THIS BOOK IS AFFECTION A TELY DEDICA TED Rose de Tour, San Diego, Cal., 7907 ALBERT MATSON (1872) SHORT POEMS AND SWEET SONGS BY ALBERT MATSON San Diego, California Press of Frye & Smith 1907 fl Glimpse of War. PRELUDE. The race is one, one brotherhood; And God is one, one fatherhood: "Tis war time still; millen'ial light Must yet dispel the shades of night. God oft his plans in myst'ry shrouds; His face oft hides behind dark clouds; In part his plans are understood: One fatherhood, one brotherhood. Spots on the sun may be explained; And, so, why truth is strongly chained With error, still. Those chains shall fall. Soul liberty 's proclaimed for all; 611111 UBRAiT 8 A GLIMPSE OF WAR. (Through faith in an Almighty One, The " Prince of Peace," the Christ, the Son). Resultant reformations will Abound, and th' ages traverse, still. The dom'nant seventh of some new key E'er means transition; such must be; As might a comet, that could take A world of worlds, new systems make; The Morning Star change contemplates; Midst death-damp darkness, light creates; It means triumphant conquest; aye, It means completeness by and by. Religion is a life in line Of effort, lives "Thy will, not mine": (And such a life-like fitness has To th' mustard seed, or th' blade of grass, A GIvIMPSE OF WAR. 9 Its mission to perform). Here's strife; Men e'er intol'rant are of th' life From which they've been reformed. Light lives. Thus darkness yields. God lives. The times momentous are; They?wrt/ conflict, near or far, The world anticipates to-day: Columbia may lead the way, And gloriously. God grant she may ! The way to bright millen'ial day! Columbia! what e'er th' affray, The voice of God hear, and obey! Columbia for freedom stood; For human rights and brotherhood; But, ah! (What could the reason be?) A part were bound, though most were free! 10 A GLIMPSE OF WAR. And th' Christian nations laughed to scorn The land where Washington was born; And prophesied that, with that blot, Would rest th' avengeful curse of God. For many years that blot spread o'er; Each day spread darker than before; For many years the lines were drawn; At last the struggle, fierce, came on: And th' nations, looking on from far, Beheld the carnage, civil war:* And Lincoln stood for liberty; And bond-men were no more, but free. 'Round Petersburg Grant's lines are drawn; The day decisive hastens on; A cordon strong, those lines they keep, While th' war-gods wait, and th' war-dogs sleep: A GLIMPSE OF WAR. 11 The Nation longs, with boding fear, For th' news of th' battle drawing near; The Gray must break that cordon now, Submissive, else, to fate to bow. The Blue, with great expectancy, Prepare to test the potency Of war's dread argument; prepare To do what man can do; to dare What man can dare; prepare to die, If die they must, without a sigh; To suffer worse than death, might be; For Country calls. * * * The Captair/s Color Capture. The night was dark, and dismal, too; Some stars the hov'ring mists shone through; The moon was hid, some hours agone, And now the fog-chilled morn came on; Upon their arms battalions slept, On vantage ground to which they'd crept Almost the Union lines upon; And only waited signs of dawn. But 'twas a troubled sleep they slept; Some waking vet'rans prayed and wept, And, with intense emotion, sobbed And thought of home and loved ones robbed A GLIMPSE OF WAR. 13 Of all they held, of earth, most dear, Should they, in battle's slaughter near, Be gathered in. But most sweet slept, And dreamed of loved ones; dreamed they wept! "Move on!" a low and whispered call; Then prompt command in line to fall; With stiffened limbs, and straining eyes, They rouse each other; sudden rise; Firm grasp their arms, and look away, And wait the coming of th' affray; The gray of dawn they faint descry, Now creeping up the eastern sky. "Move on!" Brave Hagood leads the way; No braver e'er, in such affray, Drew sword. Trained war horse rides, well bred; "Move on!" with sword raised high o'er head; 14 A GLIMPSE OP WAR. "Move on.'" "We'll win to-day, or die!" "Aye, 'win or die,' the battle cry!" He'll lead them on, though hope be gone For e'er. And Hagood's men move on. The battle's on. O heavens! O earth! Is liberty of so much worth? That brethren should each other's blood So fiercely seek to shed? O God! Shall loyalty new strength acquire By baptism such, of blood and fire? Does th' cause of human freedom lead To carnage such? Is such its need? As ends this morning's battle, fierce, So ends the Nation's struggle, years Prolonged, and millions slain, while God Has kept the Nation 'neath the rod. A GUMPSE OF WAR. 15 "Oh, lift the rod!" Columbia cries; " Accept, our God, our sacrifice!" Before this morning-'s songsters sing 1 , Behold a Nation's offering! But weep, O North! and weep, O South! For th' slain this morn at th' cannon's mouth ! From th' northern Lakes that we love so well, To th' southern Gulf, this slaug-hter tell; Of daring deeds of bravest men; Of valor great as mortals ken. Aye, weep Columbia! for the brave Who find this day a soldier's grave. "Move on!" The drums beat loud; The sun shines out o'er th' fog-built cloud; They pass ravine, and ridge, and mound, And halt in line on level ground. 16 A GLIMPSE OF WAR. But why this sudden stand? So near? And why this wavering-, and fear? What signal, this, to those behind? A moat, with water filled, they find! In energy of deep despair, One hopeless round each seeks to share; And, such foreboding fills each breast, Each feels the horror of the rest. They can not move, except they fly; Surrender? standing there? or die? For flanking columns, pressing hard, Already claim the blood-soaked sward. Scores, wounded, fall; scores fall to die; There's no escape; no succor nigh; Pale heroes, vanquished, silent stand, Midst carnage dire on every hand. A GLIMPSE OF WAR. 17 Unhorsed, their brave commander falls; "Haste!" "Haste!" "a horse!" he loudly calls. They heed him not. Ah! 'tis too late! Brave leader! Such thy cruel fate! The show'r of shot and shell pours on, As if it had but just begun: He is not dead! Brave Hagood, still, On foot, fights on; for fight he will! Ah! this day's doings, who can tell? But now comes o'er the hosts a spell As ne'er, (in conflicts such), ne'er fell Before. Ah, me! to tell the story well! From a sheltered spot a horseman rides; As if ignoring all besides, The intervening space trots o'er, And halts the center-point before! 18 A GUMPSE OF WAR. Of noble bearing, youthful, tall, Firm seated, calm and fearless, all; Raised high o'er head, his saber glares; A captain's uniform he wears; And to the color-bearer, thus; 1 ' Your colors, man ! " "To me!" "To us! ' ' Amazed, the color-bearer stands; Tight grasps the staff with both his hands; He knows not what he does; he yields! Strange pow'r that reckless rider wields! What war god he, such deed has done? He grasps the banner! now he's gone! But Hagood sees that banner lift, Unfurl'd, and placed on pummel; swift He runs, and Bailey's bridle grasps; Brave Bailey firm the banner clasps; A GUMPSE OF WAR. 19 "Give me that flag! and you shall live! A thousand lives for that I'd give! An instant's pause, and you shall die! Not you shall wave that flag, but //" "And now conies who? Who may he be That now should take this flag from me!" "Commander of these men am I; Return that flag, I say, or die!' 1 '' "But look you, Gen'ral, look you there! See! our battalions, everywhere! Surrender, you, and these, to me! Or gulfed in death be, utterly!" See! scores of rifles leveled, now, At Bailey's bare, defiant brow; And Hagood's pistol at his breast; Battalions hurrying from the west : 20 A GUMPSE OF WAR. "Once more, sir! will you ?" "Never!" "No!" "For this I came! with this I go!" And *Bailey falls. * * * * See! Hagood mounts the captured steed; Of him he has the greatest need; As if t' avenge his master's fate, The maddened horse, at fearful rate, The field now flees, nay, falls! and, as He falls, brains out a surgeon on the grass. And jHagood falls. ****** A thousand lives that flag has cost, Of those who knew the battle lost : Surrender? Those battalions? No! See line on line a-reeling go! *Capt. Jas. Bailey, 4th la. Vol. Infly. tGen. Johnston Hagood, S. C. A GLIMPSE OF WAR. 21 See! heaps on heaps of th' vanquished; slain; Among the trees; all o'er the plain: "Retreat!" "Retreat!" is sounded now: Retreat? Heav'n help! for, whither? how? Ah, deadlier the struggle now! The ricochet-dog's spewings plow L/ike dynamite by demons flung Promiscuously all among; Battalions, hastening, onward go; Quick join in battle with the foe; Such din the stoutest heart appalls; A shaft of fork-ed lightning falls; A furious storm bursts on th' affray; The heavn'ns, with jangling loudness, play Accomp'niment of thunders; rain, In sheeted torrents, pours, the stain 22 A GLIMPSE OF WAR. Of blood, in part, to wash away; And fever, born of wounds, to stay; The trench, with water fill'd, is red With blood of fallen patriots shed. Ravines, now angered in their course, The clotted blood wash from their shores; And th' show'rs of shot, and th' show's of shell, And th' show'rs of wind, and rain, and hail, Join, in an awful mockery, To drown the wail of agxmy: And Heaven frowns. * * * * * * * * * The storm, slow moving- on, has passed; And, one by one, are hushed, at last, The hounds of war: war-horses feed In quiet herd; or neighs some steed A GLIMPSE OF WAR. 23 Companionless; the spoils of war, O'er th' wide expanse, thick scattered are; The cries of pain cease not; and not The moans, and groans, and prayers to God. The wounded wait for succor; slow The freighted ambulances go, To seek the living; numbered not The dead, until tomorrow; hot The sun o'erhead; clouds cleared away; lyight breezes fan; declines the day: And Heaven smiles. * * And 'round the world trained light'ning goes, And soon the news each cont'n't knows Of vict'ry gained for th' Union cause; From th' Union lines rise loud huzzas, 24 A GLIMPSE OF WAR. As tramping-, tramping-, tramping, tramp, The victors come again to camp; "Hurrah!" "Hurrah!" in loud refrain; "Hurrah!" "Hurrah!" again and again. A cordon yet. Now silence falls; Low, picket "halt!" to picket calls; Bright moon and stars appear; a breeze Moves gently th' leaves of th' sheltering trees; A neighb'ring Freed-man plays his flute, And prays; the turtle-dove his mute Companion calls. * * * A GUMPSE OF WAR. 25 Now, *peace: many years have passed since they That wore the blue, or wore the gray, Joined battle on that notable day; And, mostly, they have passed away. But some remain, and love to tell The story they remember well; "The Captain's Color Capture." Peace Profound e'er glad'ns the hearts of these. New prestige, e'er, Columbia gains; It matters not what blood the veins Of patriots courses now; the home Of freedom, till th' millennium, Oh, may it be! God bless our land! The children of those vet'rans stand One common altar 'round, and sing, To-day, of war-time's offering. * After 30 years. 26 A GLIMPSE OF WAR. "Honor to whom it doth belong-;" And joyful raise her "glory" song-, While loud they exalt Columbia's fame, "A Gloria Ad Gloriam, O Columbia?* SONG.* Hark! the voice of th' ages, telling Us, from glory, on, to go; Songs of God-giv'n greatness, swelling, Tell of glory yet to know: On, Columbia! Heav'n blest nation! Heed thy mission! Know thy goal! On! from high to higher station, While the centuries shall roll. * "A Gloria Ad Gloriam, O Columbia," Sheet Music; Song and Chorus with piano and horn accompaniment. Also arranged as a four-part Hymn-Tune. ALBERT MATSON, Rose De Tour, San Diego, Cal. A GLIMPSE OF WAR. 27 Nations wait with expectation, Wond'ring what thy fate shall be; Prophecy, of brightest vision, Ivook to find fulfill'd in thee; Since thy God from tyrants saved thee, And yon flag- was lifted up, Millions bless that banner daily, Yea, they hail thee as their hope. There's a rare and wond'rous flow'r, Blooming red, and white, and blue; Petals white at morning hour, Though by night a bluish hue; When, at noon, its perfume sateth, Then, behold, that flow'r is red! Heed the flower! glory waiteth Till thy sun shines high o'erhead! 28 A GUMPSE OF WAR. Freedom's day is still its morning; Shadows still its skies o'ercast; Bright, the zenith yet adorning, Gleam some stars of th' night o'erpast; But the skies are growing brighter, And the warmth and glow we feel; And the hearts of men are lighter, As they escape the tyrant's heel. On! the world thy glory knoweth! On! the hope of freedom, thou! On! till, where thy banner goeth, Men no more to tyrants bow! On! thou child of love's enthronement! On! thou pledge of weal to men! On! thou promise of th' at-onement Earth shall find with Heav'n again! A GUMPSE OF WAR. 29 On! thy mission is decretal! On! to th' banishment of wrong! On! till righteousness and peace shall Kiss, and then burst forth in song! On! to nobler, grander, station! On! till Heav'n shall spare the rod! On! till th' glory of the nation Is the glory of our God! Sleep?, Colombia Does the clay prophetic hasten, When Columbia shall be free From the curse, that curse of curses, Foremost foe of liberty ? Foe of home and happiness ? Foe of human weal what e'er? Foe of truth and righteousness ? Sin! ah! shame her people share! Sleeps, Columbia! troiibled slumber! Anaesthetics Hell-prepared! What compassion! and what mercy! God has still the nation spared! Conscience stilled! but not forever! Sleeps! the sleep of th' narcotized! God, Himself, will yet arouse her, Conscience no whit minimized. 32 SLEEPS, COLUMBIA Rouse, Columbia! shame, pollution, Awful sin, thy people share; Rum's far-reaching rule and min Blight this Heav'n blessed land and fair: Rouse, O slowly waking nation. Rouse, for God calls; conscience, right; Rouse, escape thy guilty slumbering. Rouse, let in Heav'n's holy light! ififif Elfelfa. Have the poets e'er sung of " Old Baldy," the mount, Standing forth in his majesty, there ? And do parents, at night, to their children, recount What the " Legends of Baldy " declare ? When, from far, 'mong the trees, near some rivulet's fount, Sounds they hear ? tones of seeming des pair ? And the cry, "Elfelfa, ! " "Elfelfa ! " Sad, the story they tell; and it strange may appear; But the Padres all knew, in their day, 'Mongst the boulders of " Baldy," as evening drew near, Were wild children oft seen in their play; But in silence alway ; though it was not from fear: When surprised, ne'er one word did they say, Save this one, "Elfelfa ! " Elfelfa ! " 34 Far away, in Old Mexico's opulent town, In the days of magnificence, old, Lived a beautiful maiden of envied renown, Whom, a keeper of jewels and gold, Montezuma had made, and an heir to the crown: -'Tis of her the sad story is told; How they cry, "Elfelfa! " "Elfelfa! " Thus: the king thought his niece's affec tions to guide; And he frowned her young chieftain upon; But Haallya bold into the court-way did ride, His Elfelfa he seized, and was gone: Far away in " Old Baldy's " dread heights they.will hide: She is gone, the bright, beautiful one; And they mourn, "Elfelfa ! " "Elfelfa ! " 35 Through the valleys, o'er mesas, o'er mountains they flee, Halting not, till they reach El Cajon; There, brief resting, lest hast'ning pursuers might be Planning well, should their covert be shown; Fast they flee; till, afar, their sought fastness they see; To all, save Haallya, yet unknown; Where they cry, "Elf elf a!" "El/el/a/" But, arriving, at length, 'mong those cumulose hills, Jagged slopes, and deep canons, high walled, Hark! what ominous sounds! what strange luridness fills All the air, till their hearts are appalled! "Should I fall," said the chief, "e'er this fierce quaking stills, Press thou on; ride thee, far; till thou'rt called By thy name, 'Elfel/a." l Elf elf a!^ " 36 Up the steep, in his arms, he had borne her that day, And had carried her safe, until now, Faint, he fell; Elfelfa, very elf, gone astray, Pushed, with speed, toward the high mountain brow; 'Til she planted her feet, far above clod or clay, On a ledge, 'midst perpetual snow; Hark! he calls "Elfelfa'" "Elfelfa!" But her brain had gone wild; for the billowy ground Opened wide on her right, on her left; And the sulphurous smoke now enveloped her round, 'Til, of reason, she quite was bereft; Oh? the heart of the chief wildly beat at each bound, As he leaped over boulders, new-cleft; Louder cried, "Elfelfa!" "Elfelfa!" 37 She was lost! His Elf elf a he safely had brought To this fastness; but, now, she was lost; Doubly lost when he found her, she recog nized not Her espoused; neither fire; nor frost; Stood, bewildered; and ever was near that dread spot, Rigid standing; a Stylites' ghost! While he moaned, "Elfelfa!" "Elfelfa!" And he brought stalks of tule, and built there a booth; Safe, he kept his Elfelfa, with care; Silent, dwelt many a year with the wife of his youth, 'Mongst that mountain's wild ruggedness, there; But the legends all say (doubtless, all say the truth), Such a burden was life, now, to bear, He but spake, "Elfelfa!" "Elf elf a!" 38 And the legends maintain that, there, wild men are found In those fastnesses, up in the mount; That they utter no word, neither language, nor sound, As they always affirm and recount, Save one word, only one, when thick dangers surround, Or, by moonlight, they rest near some fount; That wild cry, "Elfelfa!" "Elfelfa!" fi On a broad river's current I rode, In a dream; for it seemed but a dream; I was rowing; Niagara neared; Hard I rowed, I must row up the stream! On I rowed, toiling hard while 'twas day; I no rest in my weariness found; Still, I rowed, in a difficult way Through the waters, to find solid ground. Then, a pilgrimage long, I began; So my mission on earth to fulfill; And, with toil, I must press on my way, On, and on, I must wend up the hill! 40 A DREAM. Then, I heard people 'round, mutt'ringloud: " Sinned this man? or his parents that sinned? For a torch-bearer, he, faithful e'er, But e'er bearing his torch 'gainst the wind!" "Ah!" they said, "Will he bear, always bear, All injustice? tho', wronged, seek the right? Will he on, and yet on, though 'tis dark? Sees he e'er, 'midst the gloaming, the light? Thinks he surely the goal he will reach? Comes to him, from the bitter, the sweet? Counts he failure an omen of weal? Will he turn, e'en to vict'ry, defeat? "Will he melt into tears, as he plays Upon only just one viol string? Will he prove him one favor'd of Heav'n, Prove his birthright, as child of the King? A DREAM. 41 Will men yet quite forget that he failed? Will he stand, by-and-by , 'mong-st the strong? When, at last, from this life he has passed, Will men, then, speak in praise of his song?" Thus I dreamed, dreamed of life's upward way, Dreamed of turmoil, and struggle, and pain; Dreamed of fainting, and falling, and rout; Dreamed of anguish, and hopes blighted, slain; Dreamed of failure, ignoble, complete: Were the battle fore'er to the strong; Were not weakness in mercy made strength; Were not sorrow, through grace, turned to song! flew Year's Mon)ip* Toll! toll! toll! toll! Hark! hark! Why tolls the solemn bell to-day? From whom hath fled the vital spark, And left its casement to decay? That wond'rous bell in yonder tow'r Was never known, before to-day, To toll, save in the solemn hour When royalty had passed away; Some Crown-ed Head of Europe, or Great Potentate of English State; But now that sound is heard afar, And throngs expectant breathless wait. * Great bell, Condon, at death of President Garfield. 60 WHY TOZ,I,S THE BEU, TO-DAY. Toll! toll! toll! toll! Hark! hark! What message doth its tolling tell? From whom hath fled the vital spark? What spirit choice hath gone to dwell With th' Bands Immortal "over there?" Nor Crown-ed Head, nor Prince, is dead, In Europe all; so all declare: Loud tolls the bell from tow'r o'erhead. Toll! toll! toll! toll! Hark! hark! Why float at half-mast colors all? From whom hath fled the vital spark? And to what land has come Death's pall? What means this hush, this bated breath? Th' astonished throng, to silence awed, And still? A voice, to it, is death? And death, to it, the voice of God? WHY TOI^S THE BEI.lv TO-DAY. 61 Toll! toll! toll! toll! Hark! hark! How yawns the grave, when tolls that bell! From whom hath fled the vital spark? Who journeys now? How sad that knell! Sadder than ever, through the years, That deep death-knell from tow'r o'erhead! A Nation weeps! The World's in tears! A Heroe's fallen ! ' 'Garfield 's dead/' ' The Life. Religion is a life: 'tis said A sharing of sweet communion, here, With Him who is our living Head, And thus prepare heav'n's bliss to share. A life of service, others say; The measure of faith, the works we do; We wait, we watch, we hope, we pray, We try to serve, the journey through. And yet, 'tis more; it is, 'tis true, A life of full and sweet accord And love, and sweet communion, too, With Him who is our loving Lord, Thus finding heav'n begun below; But still, 'tis more; our faith to prove By works, as on our way we go, Is not enough, though wrought in love. 63 What, then? 'tis what we try to do; Successes some our efforts bring; "Tis effort true, His will in view, That brings us nearest to our King; 'Tis thus we find the highest bliss, 'Neath Heaven's smiles, 'neath Heaven's rod; To be religious is just this, Just try to do the will of God. Ebb arid plow. The waves of ocean ebb and flow, And ebb and flow again; And thus, forever, on they go, On, rolling from the main, New-formed and big. E'er they retreat They break upon the shore With new persistence, bold and great, With rush and rythmic roar. 64 EBB AND FLOW. But they no pow'r of will disclose, In them, themselves, confined; Outside of them the will that chose, The will of th' Almighty Mind: They come, they go; God made them so;- Ne'er willing, seek the land; But, on and on, they ebb and flow, Borne by th' Almighty Hand. When we compare the ebb and flow Of th' life divine, with this, Analogy'-s at fault, we know; And this the diff 'rence is: The soul that seeks the Father's face, On flood -tide born shall be; But he tha.t fails to seek, through grace, Is lost in th' shoreless sea! t Outl" Oh, "Think it out!" not blindly go And careless, all, to-day, And when to-morrow conies, then, lo! The way's a wrong, rough way: But "think it out" what God hath planned, Thy plans to His conform; He buildeth not upon the sand, Take heed; His will perform. God builds, and man, with Him, should build, And thus his mission find; Tear down and build, if God hath willed, But build, with willing mind. There traverse all the ages through Reforms, whose steady trend Imply a building up, anew, Up-building to the end. 66 THINK IT OUT. Oh, "Think it out!" that evil great, Whatever it may be; Or woe of life, or woe of state, And great increasingly: With all its loudly boasting strength, 'Twould, sure, be put to rout, Or very soon, or yet at length, If men would "Think it out!" Yes, so of any giant power That now infests the land; That stalks, defiant, every hour, And slays on every hand; If patriots would but "Think it out," And how such shall be slain, Each monster soon we'd put to rout, Till none would still remain. Goal. Here, apart from earth's commotion, 'Neath a thought-form's helpful bow'r, Contemplating Life's vast ocean, Storms recall, that spent their pow'r, Oft recurring, furious breaking Their big billows on the shore, Meditating and day-dreaming, Mem'ries sweet, and mem'ries sad, Fresh return. My thoughts, now teeming With the Past, again I tread Paths that I before have trodden, 'Mongst some, living; 'mongst some, dead. Think of maelstroms that alarmed me; Think of cyclones; shoals not few; Of forbidden things that harmed me; Harmed me more than, then, I knew; 68 THE GOAI,. How Hell's pow'r sometimes disarmed me, When the sword 'gainst wrong- 1 drew; How I saw that Heav'n would have me Exercise a faith more strong; How I cried, "My God! my strength be, Till I sing the victor's song!" How He heard, and vict'ry gave me, Oft, when battling with the wrong. Think of scenes to which I hasten; Scenes beyond mere mortal ken; Blessed shores and fields elysian, By-and-by those shores to gain; Think how I await that vision, Goal of Now, and home of Then; Ah! to me, as time flies, fleeter, Brighter, 'tis, where e'er I rove; Yea, the joys of earth are sweeter, Foretast of those joys above, Where I'll be at home forever; Home! of Life, and Light, and Love! flo Vested Interest. I'd have no vested interest in One hellish thing-. The hosts of sin Should no encouragement e'er find Through influence, now, or left behind, Of mine. I'd know no compromise. I'd walk, so far as in me lies, With skirts all clean of stain of blood, And conscience clear, before my God. Defensive, I? Or, neutral, stand? Ah, no! Aggressive, I! A brand From out the burning snatched, shall I IndifP rent be to human cry Of woe? Or stand, irresolute, When duty calls, shame-faced, and mute? I'd cry to God, "Send me!" "Send me!" "May I be true to Thee! to Thee!" Compelled. I am compelled my Cross to bear! There is to me no other way; And whether toil, or loss, or care, Or whether bright or dark the day, What e'er the special burden be That comes to me, the Cross I must,- Else recreant be, so, shamefully, Must take, bear manfully, and trust. Ah! yes; compelled! He is my Lord; It is, I know, for Him to say. He could to Simon help afford; He can to me, "Grace as my day;" If only 'tis His Cross I bear, In sympathy with Him and His, This suffering, with Him, to share; If, for His sake, the bearing is. Bell? of It seems to me that bells I hear At th' twilight hour of stillness, oft, As I strive to catch, with list'ning- ear, Sounds sweetly, ravishingly, soft, That come to me from other sphere Than that of Time and Nature's bound; As if the angels, drawing near, Rang bells of softest, sweetest, sound. Sometimes, there comes a dreamy spell When Nature sings of "The Beyond;" And then those sounds I know so well, To which to list'ning I'm so fond, Join in the symphony, sttblime; Sweet bells! as if by angels rung; Not sounds for earth, not bells of time, But bells in Heav'n's high arches hung. 72 BELLS OF ANGELS. Why not? Why may not come to me Such promise of a land unseen? When quiet is Life's stormy sea, And on a Mighty Arm I lean By faith so strong that sweetest peace Fills all my soul, and Heav'n is near, And turmoil, all, and strivings, cease, Why not the bells of angels hear? The Mai? Without the {Joe Just driftwood borne on th' stream of time, "The man without the hoe!" Calamity to normal cult; Earth's Toilers' burden; Foe! Sham! to manhood born not reared, but spoiled, This palpable, puffed Fraud! Swamp-rotted, withered, root and branch; He drifts away from God! Humanity adrift far out, "The man without the hoe!" With brains, toils not; toils not with brawn; The Poor man's burden; Foe! Strives not for dear humanity; Builds naught for God, naught! naught! From work, and workers, all, aloof; He drifts his back towards God! 74 THE MAN WITHOUT THE HOE Humanity adrift and sick, "The man without the hoe!" Incapable, and weak, deformed; The Good man's burden; Foe! His individuality Submerged, ignored, forgot; (Oh, th' bitterness of life "genteel!") He drifts forgetting God! Humanity adrift and tossed, "The man without the hoe!" Driv'n hither, now; now, thither driv'n; The True man's burden; Foe! For others' woe, cares not or weal; Preys, wastes, what others' got By honest effort, fairest means; He drifts despising God! THE MAN WITHOUT THE HOE 75 Humanity adrift condemned, "The man without the hoe!" Most wreckless thing time's current bears; The Saved man's burden; Foe! Soft (lep'rous) hands! heart, petrified! In time's whirl-rubbish caught; To conscience dead to reason, too; He drifts blaspheming God! Humanity adrift and lost, ''The man without the hoe!" He swags, in helpless, hell-ward trend; The Christ-man's burden; Foe! No "Burden of the world" for him! By him, no work, well wrought! Punk, Tinder, fit for th' fires of hell! He drifts th' Accursed of God! Brother arid I We are Christian men, both, And a title we own To a mansion, we know, in the skies; And we work and we pray, Teaching men the right way, And our faith is a faith that ne'er dies; But we walk in our own distant paths now and then; For we never once vote for the same Christian men; My brother and I! We are neighbors, close by, And our efforts are joined In the work of reclaiming the world; And our voices are heard Full explaining the Word, And we're keeping His banner unfurled; But we follow our own chosen paths now and then; For we never once vote for the same sort of men; My brother and I! 77 MY BROTHER AND I For our country we bled, In that cruel home war, When our friends, oft, were foes in disguise; But we ne'er could forget, Oft we speak of it yet, Our's was friendship with holiest ties; But we kept in our own beaten paths now and then; Ah! we never did vote for the same class of men; My brother and I! We are both growing old, And the summers are few That we'll spend in this garden of God; Will the boys of to-day Whom we've taught the right way, Will they follow the paths we have trod? We have followed our own devious paths now and then; We could never once vote for the same solid men: My brother and I: MY BROTHER AND I 78 And our country now needs All the help of such men As its dangers can forecast to-day; That are men of much prayer, And for liberty care, And are men that will vote as they pray; But we go in our own parting paths now and then; For we don't care to vote for the same kind of men; My brother and I! The Saloon may go up, The Saloon may go down, A conservative man, he, and wise; But I'll vote as I pray, I believe that's the way, I'll have nothing of Hell's compromise; On we go in our own party paths once again; For we don't want to vote for the same party men; My brother and I! Tfyree View? THE LICENSE ADVOCATE. ' 'Drink it! and serpents with hissings, and Ceilings, and fangs, and with adder-like Stingings shall compass and torment you! Drink it! and listen to children loud Crying, and women wild wailing, and Demons' fierce shrieking and mocking you! Drink it! and 'sorrow' and 'babbling' and 'Woe' shall be; shadows and darknesses!" "Shun it! such sin is your own sin, friend; Not mine, or the State's, you see. Liberty gives you the right to sin. Law may protect, but not hinder you. Spurn it, let nature assert herself. (Look for no help of the legal kind.) Rum and Saloon will e'er tempt you. Of Action, my rule is: 'CAN'T HELP IT!' " THREE VIEWS 80 THE CONFIRMED Ar.COHOI.lTE. "Drink! and the sunshine and shadows shall Over the billowy fields, again, Chase one another, as landscapes they Paint in the brain; bring the dews of the Night, and the sweet breath of June, and the Carol of lark, and the song 'Harvest Home"; all the autumn's rich light; many Day-dawns and eve-dusks of happiness." "Drink! and the damps of the present will Vanish; no pow'r among men can say Nay to this joy; 'tis the joy of the Heart that High Heaven would not keep us from. Drink! and the future is bright, all, and Golden, whatever the past or the Present may seem, in the hour of the Soul's deep depression. 'YOU WANT IT!' " THREE VIEWS 81 THE ANTI-LICENSE ADVOCATE. ' 'Stop it! you both vote the ballot that Keeps it; the open Saloon is made Legal; the wayfaring man is sore Tempted; the sot keeps his sottishness. Strike it! 'tis bloodshed, and heartache and Home-wreck; perdition eternal, 'tis. Shame on the freeman that votes such a Ballot! Oh, shame on the Christian menl" "Kill it! Oh, ballot for conscience and Purity, honor, and home's welfare! Ballot for God, and for justice and Righteousness' sake, O true citizen! Bury it! wrap the vile license sheet 'Round its doomed whisky flask! Label it 'Horrors of hell and the damned!'' Of Action, wy/rule is: 'NO COMPROMISE.' " Two Mits "Two mits," she read; "two mites" it said- The story in her Testament. Then, with mits on hand and hood on head, To church and Sunday-school she went A precious gift, those mits to her, And carefully she kept them, too; So soft, and nice, and clean, they were Without those mits, what would she do? 'Twas mission day. The pastor told The need of gifts, both large and small; And how some yielded hundredfold, In gifts of others, at God's call. "If we would only try, " he said, "We surely, too, that call would hear." And then the Scripture story read About the "mites," and stopped just there. TWO MITS 83 "He calls them mites," said Curly-head; "It must have been her mits she gave. I don't know how much good they did, But I would like one child to save. I don't know what to do! dear me! I've not one cent to give just now; I wish I had. Now, let me see. Oh! could I spare my mits? Oh! how? The contribution box went 'round, And, just as it was passing by, She dropped her mits. They made no sound, And, so, escaped the deacon's eye. But, when he'd counted all, he said, "Some one has lost her mits, I see." Upon the seat climbed Curly-head, And sobbed aloud, "They b'long to me!" 84 ETERNITY IMMORTALITY And then, in tears fast falling, told How she had longed to do her part "The widow gave her mits, not gold, And / love Jesus in my heart. " They counted much, those mits, that day; In tears the congregation sat; And then were moved, without delay, To pass around both box and hat Eternity Iipiportality Eternity! Lo, O my soul! E'en nearer to thee the billows roll Of that vast sea, and boundless all, Which e'er shall be, though th' heavens fall. Eternity! And shall it be That I, in immortality, All joy shall see? Prom sin set free? Eternity! Eternity! Mi| CoifijtrtJ's Conscience To-p (10-29-'97, at 10 o'clock, p. m.) The century soon will close. Two years, Two months, two days, two hours, and then Will be begun the hopes and fears, The smiles and tears, the times of th' men Of th' century's last year. Watchman, say, What promise bodes? "What of the night?" My country sleeps! When comes the day Of conscience roused ? This favored land! This Gospel ground! This home of light and liberty! Asleep! A slumber so profound! Though having eyes, men do not see! Though having ears, men do not hear! Though having hearts, men do not feel! Nor heed the foe they ought to fear! Nor comprehend! 86 MY COUNTRY' SCONSCIENCE TO-NIGHT Columbia sleeps! Rum never sleeps. Good Christians quail! Rum never quails, But every gain and vantage keeps. To war-to-knife, it never fails. The Christian frets! Rum issues threats. The Christian mourns! Rum scoffs and scorns. The Christian waits! Rum ne'er abates. And conscience sleeps! The Christian votes; and Rum makes notes! He always votes; he's "Temperance," strong! "Votes as he prays;" him, thus, Rum quotes! But votes with Rum! O God! how long? And votes for Rum! In league with Hell! The plague and scourge of earth moves on! What power can rouse? What break the spell ? For conscience sleeps! Son)etin)es Yours, but fllwaijs You I want while still earth's wants endure Want, sometimes, yours, but always, you! The joys of heav'n, to me, are sure; I'm needy here, the journey through; 'Tis now I need the costly gifts Not burial spices, linens fine! 'Tis here, my friend, syn-pathos lifts The clouds, and cheers this soul of mine . 'Tis now my Josephs serve me well! What matter what my tomb may be ? While here, in loneliness, I dwell, Or pain; oh, give me sympathy! Mock not my sorrows; keep thy gold! My wounds and bruises dost thou know? Then furnish "Oil and wine"; behold My need! Sweet sympathy bestow! The Shriek I Upon its way, perdition-ward, I heard a sentenced soul A curse shriek out. "Oh, that 'twere heard!" I said, "From pole to pole!" Such curse! such condemnation, fierce! Such imprecation, dread! It pierced my soul quite through and through, As if an arrow sped. Such condemnation of the men Who crucify, afresh, The Son of Man again, again, For sake of "Pots of flesh!" That prostitute a sacred trust, Indulgences to sell! Who, at the polls, a ballot thrust That tells for earth for hell! THAT SHRIEK I HEARD 89 "O, Heav'n!" I cried, "how long? how long? How long shall this thing be ? The church, how long permit this wrong To curse humanity?" "For so much money, so much sin!" 'Tis ballots make it so! While chiirchmen's ballots go for gin, They curse (the church) who hellward go! Ah, ah, that shriek! Could ye but hear, Ye men with suffrage crowned, Remembering a judgment near, While on earth's battle-ground, Henceforth, methinks, ye surely would Do battle for the right, If hear that shriek, ye only could! That shriek I heard last night! Tbe Worp Spirit Oh! why does sadness stay? And why does darkness lower? My gloom should flee away; My thoughts to heaven soar. Oh! why does sorrow brood? And why does grief oppress ? My soul, with peace imbued Should be, and joy confess. Bear Tfytj Cro$? O cease, my troubled spirit, cease Thy murm'rings! Banish not that peace Thou'st ever found, while bending low Before the Cross, God's will to know! Thy disappointments cease to feel, And let thy wounds thy Saviour heal; Thy frettings cease, 'neath burdens sore; Bear, patiently, new strength implore. Add strength to strength; add peace to peace; Add joy to joy; let tumult cease; Be reconciled to suffer loss: Thou seek'st a crown ? Then bear thy Cross! "Boulder to ftodlder" Now, "Mark time! march!" ye vet'rans Blue! And "Mark time! march!" ye vet'rans Gray! With ' 'Shoulder to shoulder, ' ' ye comrades true! With "Shoulder to shoulder, " come join th' affray! A mighty foe, entrenched around, With insolent and mocking mien, Is pressing hard on freemen's ground: And Hell decrees that rum shall reign! With steady, even tread, again, Take up the march, both Blue and Gray! For love of country, oh, be men! For country calls again, to-day. Beneath one banner, now march on, To fight one common enemy; And louder than in days agone, Let be the shouts of victory! Tbe Creed The Issue of the ages, is, The Creed of Christendom; In every realm of earth is this The question, now, become: Salvation, tis; (Salvation such; Self-ruined, selfish man, By One that loveth him so much; Who willing, is; Who can.) Salvation, 'tis; (of such, by Such;) Earth is redeem 'd to be; And man once more with God in touch Be brought, through pardon, free; The modus operandi, all, ( The means] outside of this, To other category fall: Saved, he, who willing, is! Sweet Release How blest the soul that's found forgiveness! What joy to be from sin set free! How blest the peace, when Christ's salvation Has made us His for e'er to be! Oh! sweetly sing of Christ's salvation! Sing songs of sweetest, holiest love! L,et, more and more, your songs re-echo The songs of joy and praise above. Yes! joy and gladness fill our hearts; Soul-darkness finds sweet release; Sorrow is hushed, and sadness departs, When Jesus, from burdens, frees. of the "Bright Side" I will sing of the "Bright Side", to-day; I will yield nor to gloom nor despair; Let to-morrow bring forth what it may, Of my gladness, I'll sing and declare. Aye, the world of my sunshine, has need; Of my sorrows, it cares not to know; That its paths may be brighter, indeed, I would add what I may, as I go. As the song-birds, by Nature, are taught, So have I been, by Nature and Grace; I would sing of the best life has brought; Unto brightness should darkness give place. Comes the sunset but Day follows night; And my eyes toward the Sunrise, I'll turn; Of sweet hope, would I sing, with delight; For fruition of which, now, I yearn. The Injnjortals' Cbaptipcjs I {leaf In the hour of my soul's calm, sweet resting On the Infinite, alone, Sweetest notes while safely I'm nestling, As beside th' Eternal Throne Come to me. Th' Immortals are chanting, And the bells of heaven chime; Sounds of earth, though sweet, all supplanting, And forgotten, things of time. Multitudinous hosts are now voicing Glory, grand, eternal, near; Echoes, sweet of heaven's rejoicing May not I such echoes hear? Harmonies, celestial, are falling, E'en upon a mortal's ear! From th' unseen, so sweetly now calling, Telling of th' Eternal sphere. % THE IMMORTALS CHANTINGS I HEAR Oh! how sweet are those echoes resounding! How they calm my aching breast! While those heavenly measures are sounding, Calmly, I, and sweetly, rest; To their magic spell, while I'm yielding, Gath'ring clouds are rolled away; While their influence, sweet, they are wielding, Through heav'n's portals beams the day. Oh, that beautiful world/ , Oh, that beautiful world! The Immortals' chantings I hear! Beautiful world! Beautiful world! O realms ecstatic! so near! Sweet harmonies roll! Sweet chantings I hear! Sweet chant ings I hear! To-n)otfow is flpotljef Daij To-day is mine; for weal or woe: To-morrow, I may never know: Time was, time is; but, unto me, No pledge is giv'n that time shall be: Assurance none, have I, and true But this; To-day, I live, and do: To-day shall pass for e'er away: To-morrow is another day! And, if it comes as came to-day's To-morrow's sun, with self-same rays Another age, to-morrow is, And may not be like unto this; And other life, and other love, And other influences may move: Oh, do, to-day, what should be done! Oh, wait not thou to-morrow's sun! 98 TO-MORROW is ANOTHER DAY To-day is ours: What of the Then ? What shall be theirs, do mortals ken ? Oh, precious hours! and minutes, too! Awake! Away! There's work to do! How quick the sun the heav'ns shall span! How soon the breeze of ev'n shall fan! How shortly night shall come and ask If we have well performed each task! Heav'n help us, then, awake to be In morning hours our work to see; And, as comes on the noon-day heat, When move but slow the weary feet, And as advance the evening hours, Heav'n help us use our God-giv'n pow'rs To make the world the brighter, some; And, after toil, sweet rest shall come. Loved Oi)e Told Me Sometimes in a dream, in a vision, it seems, I hold sweet communion, again, With a Loved One, now gone; and, in flitting day-dreams, The Veil is uplifted, amain: But 'tis only in dreams, or in visions, I see The bright form of that Dear One, so near; Then she's vanished again, and she's hidden from me; Mine a mortal, her's an immortal, sphere. I dwell on the Beach-land of a separating sea, The Strand whence my Loved One passed o'er; By sign or by signal, she never, to me, Has spoken, from that hidden Shore: Her life has gone out, her life has gone on; But 'tis hidden from mortals, away; And the separating Veil, o'er that Sea that is drawn, Will ne'er lift while, on th* hither shore, I stay. * Sheet music sweetly beautiful. Crown Pub. Co., Mt. Kisco, N. Y. 100 MY LOVED ONE TOLD ME SO The thought of th' "Home- Land" is sweeter to me, When I think of my dear Loved One, there; And what words mortals know can more sweet ever be Than "Sweet Home," "Sweet Mother" and "Sweet Dear?" And the mists cloud my eyes, as I dwell on the theme, Like the Mists of that separating Sea; But the Veil will uplift no more vision, or dream; There's a "Home-Land," and a Loved One, for me. My Loved One told me so, In accents sweet and low; And she bade me meet her on that happier shore, When she left me, long ago. Goldei) Gli I heard a beautiful note, That came from some instrument, sweet; Then the thought of a harmony came, My hungering soul to greet: I saw a beautiful flower, That grew in the field near-by; Then the thought of a Beauty, beyond All beauty of earth and of sky. I saw a beautiful ray, That steadily gleamed in the night; Then the thought of a Brightness, untold, Where darkness ne'er banishes Light: I saw a beautiful bird, When feeding her brood, in the nest; Then the thought of that Infinite Love, That bears a world on its Breast. 102 GOLDEN GLIMPSES I saw a beautiful home, A refuge, and resting-place, sweet; Then the thought of that City of Light, Where, loved ones, I've promised to meet: I saw a beautiful river Of waters, from fountains unknown; Then the thought of that e'er-flowing Stream Of Waters, from founts 'bout the Throne. Ah! the rays tell of suns; And the notes tell of chords; And the birds and the flowers Teach us plain as do words: Gain we glimpses, only glimpses, Golden glimpses, though they be, Of the Source of all life; Of Eternity. ii& Glad fleart Sing! sing, glad heart! oh, sing thy gladness! Whatever speaks of cheer and joy; Sing! bid the sad forget their sadness; Whatever would sweet peace destroy: The heart is cheered when beauty brightens; Glad songs are full of beauty, e'er; The song of joy the burden lightens The burden built of toil and care. Sing joyful songs! think of their mission! Tune heart and voice to sing such songs; Sing of sweet hope; of hope's fruition; To thee, such privilege belongs: To make the world a little brighter, To hail the Right, condemn the Wrong, To make earth's burden-bearing lighter, Is worthy aim of th' child of song. 104 SING, GI,AD HEART Sing songs that are full of joy and gladness! Sing songs that a mission, have, indeed, In a world so prone to gloom and sadness, A world of toil, and care, and need; Then sing of "Clouds with silver lining"; Some clouds must be, and darkness, some; Sing on! Some heart will cease repining; Some heart be glad, for joy is come. Where Shall I Write Mi| Where shall I write my name with care So that the letters shall perish not ? If, on the sands, sad fate they share; Quick they are written soon forgot. Ruthless the billows, storm-tossed o'er; Hidden the marks frail fingers have made; Vanished all traces from that shore; None will e'er know that there I strayed. Carved on a marble slab, my name Might, for a time, perpetuate Mem'ry of deed, or deeds, if fame Warranted facts, and place, and date. Yes, "For a time," for marble fails Letters to keep from crumbling, slow; Even the rocks, erosion assails; Doomed to destruction, all below. 106 WHERE SHA.1,1, I WRITE MY NAME Where shall I write my name, with care ? So that the letters shall perish not? Ah! In the hearts of men, who share, With me, my birth-right sons of God. Perish the sands and the rocks of time! Hearts will not die; and hearts will love! Then let my life, with a faith sublime, Help to make earth like heaven, above. Let th' impulse of th' life be graven On th' tablets of th' hearts of men; Then no pow'r, or in earth or in heav'n Will that record e'er blot out again; Thus let my name be written, with care, So that the letters shall perish not; Then shall I know what fate they share; Then shall I know I'm ne'er forgot. Tbe BrigftfqiQd of the Dawi)ii)4 Of the bright'ning of the dawning of a better day; Of th' awakening of the nations of the wide, wide world; Of the hast'ning of the finding of a better way; That the battle-flags of the people shall at last be furled Of the passing of the power that the tyrant wields; Of the passing of the blighting that perverts bring; Of the passing of Hell's reaping earth's best harvest fields; And, "From glory, " still, "To glory, " march ing on, we sing 108 THE BRIGHT'NING OF THE DAWNING Of the coming, speedy coming, of the rule of right; Of the speeding, universal, of blest freedom's reign; Of the lifting of still low 'ring shades of earth's dark night: And the bright'ning of the mist-clouds till they meet amain Of the passing, speedy passing, hate of broth erhood; Of the passing of dread evils whence world- curses spring; Of the passing, speedy passing, hate of laws of God; And "From Glory", still "To Glory" marching on, we sing, THE BRIGHT'NING OF THE DAWNING 109 As the melting mists lift up, Soon to vanish, quite, away, Let the faithful watchman say If the dawning of the day is brighter; As the rifted clouds recede, Vanish, quite, in the world-affray, Let the sons of freedom say If the hearts of men are lighter. Tis Oplij Opce We Pass This Wai| 'Tis only once we pass this way; Nor loiter, as we go; We only pass; we can not stay: Not left to doubt; we know; Swift, with the days, we haste along; The days are numbered, all; And, whether sorrow, whether song, No day can we recall. A pilgrimage so quickly o'er! Extremes of route so near! To make new start on Other Shore, With vantage gained, while here If vantage ground, indeed, we find, Along the way, decreed; If darkest clouds are silver-lined, And beautiful, indeed. WHEN DREAM ANGERS HOVER 111 Oh! pilgrimage with beauty fraught! And love, and joy, and hope! For, so, hath willed the Father, God If man will but look up, And out, beyond mere mortal goal, And fit for other sphere, Through training of th' immortal soul With heaven in view, while here. Drearp [lover When, half slumb'ring the eye-lids are closed, When dream-angels are hovering near, When souls, weary, in mem'ry, awake To dream-accents that fall on the ear, Then, sometimes, the sweet, silvery voices Carol of the heart's longings of yore; Of life's holiest loves, purest joys; Of blest haunts that know us no more. 112 WHEN DREAM-ANGELS HOVER Then are friendships, forgotten, renewed, And that they were e'er broken, ignored; And the bonds of sweet life once more bind, And affection's bright glow is restored. But, sometimes, of the present, they sing; In refrain on refrain, they indulge; And, if others could hear their sweet songs, They would blissful life-secrets divulge. But the future demands greater share Of the themes of those "Songs in the night"; Whether darkness, or brightness, of yore, Whether life be filled full of delight, To the future, expectant, we look; The fruition of hope we await; While we listen, a glimpse we may catch Of that Other that "Glory's" Estate. flfter Darkness pod Of the "Dark Side," one sang, in his blindness; Thus he sought, for his sorrows, a balm; To forget the world's slight, and unkindness, And the troubled, worn spirit to calm. As the wounded bird's wings fail, ere long, Will not lift, unless gaining new strength, So, to him, were the wings of sweet song, Ere he found what his need was, at length. Then he sang of the "Bright Side", and, lo! They that heard said such song they loved best; That they loved to forget all earth's woe; That 'tis thus the worn spirit finds rest. After darkness, find brightness again; Oh, be glad! gladness is for the soul Heavenward bound; fitting, now, for the Then, Where the "Years of eternity roll!" ii) the Ni Songs in the night, the Spirit e'er giveth Them that do trust in Him, then; Songs of high praise unto Him that e'er liveth Mighty One, Saviour of Men; Kindly, the Light, the way-marks revealing, Bidding the heart to be strong; Soreness profound, so gently, He's healing; Giveth He, then, a song. There are no psalms that lift up to Heaven Like the low chants in the night; Psalms unto anguish-stricken ones given, Trusting, and waiting for light; There are no songs, the soul's need expressing, Like the sweet songs in the night; Chariots of praise, High Heaven addressing, Songs of the loftiest flight. Mil Mother's Sop A traveler, most wearily, Had climbed the height, half way, And there he paused to view the sight; To breathe his life away ? Alone, he came alone, and sad; Yet, cheerful, and resigned; He came from far-off native land A mountain tomb to find? Renewal of the lease of life, In South-land clime, had sought; The cancer gnawed still steadily, Until its work was wrought: And, now, he sought a friendly rock, On which to rest, at last; To lay him down; his hands to clasp; His eyes to Heav'n to cast. *The San Miguel of San Diego County, California- twelve miles from the sea. ON MT. SAN MIGTJEI, 123 A hermit hunter chanced to be Among the rocks, just there; Strange sounds he heard a living voice; A voice engaged in prayer: "My God, I know not if it be That now my journey's o'er; If I, at last, thy face, shall see, And stand, thy throne, before." He ceased. The sun shone bright; the sky Was beautiful, that day; And gentle breezes, from sweet flow'rs, Rich fragrance brought that way; The sea seemed calm, and very near; The day was won'droiis bright; And, to the resting traveler, It was a beauteous sight. 124 ON MT. SAN MIGUEI, The Coronados, midst the mists Now gath'ring, far away, Sea-sentinels, stood, silent, there, Gray guardians of the bay; And, over them, the sun now passed; And wond'rous gleamed the sea, Between those islands and the shore, Near where these mountains be. And pretty valleys nestled there, In sight of San Miguel; And, though 'twas winter-season, now, Were clad in verdure, still: The rocks seemed almost warm that day; The honey-bee was there; Inviting was that mountain-side; And friendly, too, the air. ON MT. SAN MIGUEX 125 The hermit silently drew near, Perchance, some aid to give; And listened. Then the traveler Exclaimed, "And shall I live Another day, this scene to view ? Ah I soon the night will come, And, ere another beauteous morn Shall dawn, shall I go Home ?" "Ah, home! at last! to be at home! What word like that to me ? When love, and peace, and joy are there, How sweet at home to be! If thus, while here, in mortal frame, What must th" immortals see, Safe dwelling on the 'Golden Shore'? Home of Eternity!' 1 '' 126 ON MT. SAN MIGUEI. "Home of my childhood! Mother's love! And Sisters' gentle care! Can I forget thai shelter, dear, What e'er the bliss I share? Can I forget, when Mother went, And left her babes with me, How sweet the privilege, at home, With Mother's babes, to be ?" "Can I forget, though poverty Was sometimes bitter, then, How I, by diligence, prepared A place my home ? but when ? For Love had come; then bade me wait; And bade me wait and wait! O God! then left me to my fate. " * * * "Love came not. " * * * ON MT. SAN MIGUEL 127 "And vine, and shrub, and tree grew fast, In size and loveliness; And green, the grass; and sweet, the flow'rs; But, ah, the loneliness! The hopelessness! the homelessness! Then, giv'n to me, what grace, To bear my spirit up! ah, me!" * * * "Love came not " * * * "I cried to Heaven, in my distress, 'O Father, lift me up; Help me to drink, if drink I must, This bitter, bitter cup Right manfully; and then go forth, My mission to fulfill, If there is aught for me to do. ' " * * * "Love came not. '* * 128 ON MT. SAN MIGUEL "Yes, one, and then another, came; But 'twas not Love to stay! Work! work I could; and work I would; Oft-times both night and day; Till men proclaimed success had come, In measure, large. To me, How small the measure of success!" * * * "Love came not. " * * "Friends, some, were near; friends, some, were dear; Some, ever faithful, too; For friendship is, sometimes, so strong, It lasts the journey through; But few, indeed, were such to me; The many soon forgot: A friend! how sweet true friendship is!" * * * "Love came not. " * * * ON MT. SAN MIGUEL 129 "But I still higher heights must climb; Still on; success; must win; The joy of service e'er increased; Increased was peace, within; And Love Divine new love awoke In my much suff'ring heart; And made me strong to bear my lot." * * * "Love came not. " * * * ' 'No, never could I quite forget, Suppress those longings, quite; And, sure as thought of heaven came, Came this do what I might That life is not a full success: That, loss; that need; that pain; That void; I could not, e'er, forget." * * * ' 'Love came not. ' ' * 130 ON MT. SAN MIGUEI, "I strove: too much for flesh and blood! I could but suffer much; And yet I strove, right on, to press With God and man in touch. At last they said that I was ill, That I must shortly die; Must die ?' I cried to Heav'n; 'God will, I'll even death defy!' " ' 'Then traversed many a valley fair, And many a mountain range; And came, at last, to th' mesa, there, Where all is wildly strange; Where I could hear the ocean's roar; View peaks of mountains, high; And valleys nestled all among The foot-hills, 'bout me, nigh." ON MT. SAN MIGUEL 131 "And there a solitary life I led for many a day; On mountain-side, or foot-hill high, I'd pass the hours away: The flowers, beauteous carpets, spread; The birds sweet sang to me; And Nature seemed conspiring, all, My present help to be. ' ' "A hermitage; mere waiting place, For better days to come; To gaze, from thence, far o'er the sea, And think of Heav'n, as Home; Oft, retrospectively, to dwell On th' joys of th' long ago; And then compare mere mortal joys With th' joys th' immortals know." 132 ON MT. SAN MIGUEt "To-day, I thought to climb the mount, And gaze away, far, o'er This sea, that seems to separate Me from the 'Farther Shore": My strength is gone; but I am glad I clambered up so far: And see! o'erhead, in heav'n's blue vault, Appears one shining star !" "The night draws near; but yet the sun O'er Loma's heights I see; A privilege! to see, once more, The sun set gloriously! Once more behold the beauteous sight Of mountain, bay, and sea, At sunset! Oh, how wonderful! How glorious, tome!" ON MT. SAN MIGUEI, 133 "The mounts of Mexico are there; The San Jacintos, there; And there the Cuyamaca stands, High, camel-backed, and bare; And numerous nestling valleys, too; (Sweetwater; El Cajon) ; So fair, from hence, to look upon! So fruitful, every one!" " But, ah, the sea! the wondrous sea! The sun o'er Loma's tower! What perch, like this, in all the world. At this, the sunset hour ? Oh, gorgeous scene! Oh, golden clouds!'' 1 * * * Night. The moon mounts high; The stars, in constellations, now, Bright glimmer in the sky. 134 ON MT. SAN MIGUEL The silence is oppressive, quite; So still! so very still! See! o'er his weary, prostrate frame, A tremor comes; a chill ! " 'Mongst boulders!" * * * "On (his mountain side/" "Im ill!" * * * "On San Miguel!" "O, God!" * * * "Be with me, now, I pray!" "God' swill be done!" * * "God's AT THE CALLING OF THE ROLL A loyal, stalwart, citizen, and brave, They bade me be, in early youth; To stand for liberty; for truth; An advocate of every right God gave To man; aggressive; true; with record clear; At th' calling of the roll, to say, "Here!" They bade me my companions, too, to lead In th' path of true nobility; To urge, in all sincerity, That they should consciencious be; to plead, Like Paul, the highest aim; "A gloria ad gloriam!" 136 AT THE CALLING OF THE ROU. I found th' estate of manhood frail, and prone To selfishness, 'mong men, and sin: And, yet, true principle, within, Was firm established; th' law of love: A sure and firm foundation, there! At th' calling of the roll, to say, "Here!" Then, how with fellow men to plead the best For character and worth, I strove To learn; th' attention gain; and th' heart to move; And dalliance with Law and Grace t' arrest: To leave men low, Grace never came! "A gloria ad gloriam!" A hydra-headed Monster stalked abroad; Insatiate; that man a slave Of man might be, permission gave! Despised, defied the Higher Law and God! Hell raged! God reigned! Men paled! I, there At th' calling of the roll said, "Here!" AT THE CALLING OF THE ROLL 137 Men, God raised up, and mighty men, the pen, With pow'r, to wield; bade some in pulpit stand And thunder, there, that this blest land, At last, should own the brotherhood of men: Then, on, and on, in Freedom's name; "A gloria ad gloriam!" Then, through the land was heard the cry, "To arms!" To quick response men's hearts were moved, To save the Country that they loved; And, to the front pushed fast, 'midst war's alarms. And I, the fate of war to share At th' calling of the roll, said, "Here!" "Take up the Christ's-Man's Burden," then! Hark! "As He died to make holy, Let us die to make men free, As we go marching on!" sing armed men! And, 'til they make the welkin ring, Their ..."Glory, glory, hallelujah!"... sing. 138 AT THE CALLING OF THE ROLL Not only men well trained to arms, but men Of every calling found a place In line; and thought it no disgrace To bear the name of soldier; noble, then! And never had such worth, as there, At th' calling of the roll said, "Here!" The clash of arms 'tween mighty armies came; Battalions melted like the frost! But on, regardless of the cost! Ah! men came to think it much a shame That blood should make a diff'rence, then! Though held as serfs, surely, serfs were men! And bondmen, then, their freedom gain'd at last! What blood the veins of loyal men Did course, it mattered nothing, then, To us; and thousands, ere the die was cast, Who, by decree, now freedmen were At th' calling of the roll said, "Here!" AT THE CAtUNG OF THE ROI,I< 139 The war went on such cruel war! and blood And fearful carnage held full sway! How deep the meaning of th' affray! What destiny in th' balance hung! O God! What shall the final outcome be ? What now, of human liberty ? A Country saved! A Monster slain! But, oh! Such sacrifice! Such penalty For wrong so long allowed to be! Alas! The slain! So many lives laid low! Some say a million, again, that ne'er At th' calling of the roll said, "Here!" 'Twas done and so much blood and treasure giv'n To th' cause of human liberty! The conflict o'er, fraternity And peace, prosperity, 'neath the smile of Heav'n, The world, astonished, saw, and said, "Well done!" But we can ne'e'r forget our dead! 140 AT THE CALLING OF THE What truth and trend the Country saved, is plain; What principles enforcement found; Why this; why thus; upon what ground; And what shall save, if e'er again Again? Ah, me! What shall I say of an again ? Aye, what? Be true, my heart! Be quick, my pen! 'Tis not Reform, God counted out! and love! Not plans, for fancied human weal, Of such as neither know, nor feel, The pressing needs of men! nor rise above Pow'rs narrow view; greed's selfish aim; The strife for place; the love of fame! 'Tis not "The White Man's burden!" No, not such! Not prestige such, but principle! Not tow'ring might, but jiistice, full! Not blood and cultured intellect, so much, But what shall best all men prepare At th' calling of the roll to say, "Here!" AT THE CALLING OP THE ROI.I, 141 It is "The Christ's-Man's burden", understood, And taken up right manfully, By th' Nation; consecratedly, For God and universal brotherhood: Columbia, thus, shall on, to fame; "A gloria ad gloriam!" II. Shall I forget that Monster Pow'r, and dread, Called Rum ? when I my Country's weal Would urge ? Can I his strength reveal ? Can I e'er tell the numbers of Rum's dead That 'mong my countrymen are found ? In this blest land! This! Freedom' 1 s ground! 142 AT THE CALLING OF THE ROLL Commissioned, that fell Monster is, of hell, To rule and ruin this fair land; To rule, when men do not withstand, And rout; To ruin, if not rule, as well; Hell-sent home-spoiler; slaves to find In every haunt of human kind! Wise men, and good, that "Rum must go", declare. In some bright spots, the church, I saw Join with Reformers; frame a law; Decree of State; To banish Rum for e'er. Wise men became Reformers, there! At th' calling of the roll, said, "Here!" And then I saw the angry play of fools! The spite, the hate, the enmity Of men of good fraternity, Who thought Reformers trained in half-truth schools Of vicious, weak, philosophy! Shirked, such, aggressive policy! AT THE GAINING OF THE ROH 143 (How prone the church to leave the "highways and The hedges" the "common people's" haunts Behind! forgetting "common people's" wants To climb some eminence their own; some grand Imposing pile, to build, that high O'erlooks the homes of th' low-lands, nigh! Surround ' 'our set' ' with things of show, and dwell Serenely, spite of all the woe The neighb'ring struggling masses know, Through Rum! ignoring quite, this Monster, fell! Or, witnessing in silent mood! Say? are such hands deep-dyed in blood ? Methinks, sometimes, that such as they, alas! Would have no use for Christ, to-day! They'd say, "Reformer!" "Hell to pay!" If He should pass their way, they'd let Him pass! If He should call, they'd turn away! If at th' church door, they'd say Him, "Nay!") 144 AT THE GAINING OF THE 'Twas lost! the opportunity near th' whole Of this fair land, from Rum, to save! And sad th' example, too, we gave To every land on earth, from pole to pole! Ah! sad that, then, so few there were, At th' calling of the roll to say, "Here!" Yes, "Rum must go!" still wise men say; Alas! Rum does not go! But stalks, and grows! In th' State, in pow'r politic, and knows In th' Church, right well, what first must come to pass! That th' conscience must awakened be; That righteousness brings liberty. Reforms must wait. For what? For men set free From tyrrany of party pow'r; Of compromise, it is the hour; The people do not rule, to-day! nor see Nor understand how largely they Are figures, mere, in th' puppet-play AT THE; GAINING OF THE ROU, 145 Called politics! When th' people th' rulers, be, (That day must hasten, now, When th' Free no more to th' Boss will bow!) When th' laws of God of right of liberty Free course have found then loud th' acclaim "A gloria ad gloriam!" III. Despair not! Th' expectant millions know not what They seek they seek a way some way! And wait a brighter, better, day; Some change in citizen-giv'n rights, and not A war-sped revolution, such As, th' thought of which, men dread so much. 146 AT THE CALLING OF THE ROLL Think out that way, ye men of thought, and wise! Some change of constitution giv'n, Respecting legislation; ev'n Just this; A change through which all com promise May relegated, be, to th' past! Men voting for what they want, at last! IV. Then haste that universally needed day! Th' people to say if evils, great, Shall gnaw at the vitals of the State! Columbia may lead, should lead the way! Then every nation of the earth, To find that way, will hasten forth. AT THE CALLING OF THE ROU, 147 Come then, vast empires, crownless, great; The people their own emperor; And peace prevail, and no more war 'Twixt Christian lands, for greed or passion to create; Discharged, th' affairs of State, by men The servants of the people, then! My Countrymen! Look for the time when fell Monopoly greed organized Great syndicates, by hell devised, On principles that righteous ways forestall Shall relegated, be, to th' past! When righteous laws obtain, at last! When th' laws of man comport with th' laws of God; With God-giv'n rights of fellow man; With th' privilege, true, of th' citizen; When Legislators ne'er shall christen fraud ' 'Necessity!" "Best policy!" "The route to real prosperity!" 148 AT THE CALLING OF THE ROLL And Rum? What of that Beast, the hydra- headed ? The "Trinity of principles" (Free men, free Bible, and free schools,) Has found a place in National heart, embedded, To that extent there's no recession; Demands the full, complete, possession. 'Tis incompleteness troubles now, and has; 'Tis misconception; (So, misrule;) And lack of conscience, pitiful! A lack of holy love for righteous laws; Aggressive consecration, too, In all that have with Rum to do. AT THE CALLING OF THE ROLL 149 V. O Comrades, dear! Each duty bids, "Do well!" If onward, yet, our "time's career," (E'n though, with us, the leaf is sere, Still we our times may serve, while here we dwell,) May God yet spare us many a year; At th' calling of the roll, to say, "Here!" And when, in th' coming years, they call our name, To laud our loyalty, our love Of native land, so, thus, to move The heart of loyal sons, and fan to warmer flame, Be this our undisputed fame "A gloria ad gloriam!" 150 AT THE GAINING OF THE ROLL VI. And, as for us, when we're "relieved from duty," Giv'n our "discharge" from th' "rank and file," In th' record we have made, the while, May we've exemplified th' life, th' death, th' beauty, Of those prepared for the "Up There!" At Eternity's reveille, to say, "Here!" And, oh! we know that those whose highest aim Has been each duty, well, to do, (And duty change to principle, too, ) Increasing blessedness may claim; (If right with Heav'n, two worlds the same, ) "A gloria ad gloriant!" INDEX PAGE A Dream 39 After Darkness 113 At the Calling of the Roll 135 Bear Thy Cross 90 Bells of Angels 70 Be Kind in the Morning Hours .... 118 Compelled 70 Doing 43 Elfelfa 33 Environment 47 Ebb and Flow 63 Eternity 84 Growing Old 51 Golden Glimpses 101 If I Should Fall 46 Immortality 117 Like Loma's Light 52 Lost Saved 116 Music 57 My Brother and I 76 My Country's Conscience 85 My Loved One Told Me So 99 My Mother's Songs 115 New Year's Morning 42 No Vested Interest 69 Opportunity 54 On Mt. San Miguel 122 Realized 56 Song (Patriotic) 26 Sometimes Yours, But Always You ... 87 Shoulder to Shoulder 91 Sweet Release 93 Sing of the Bright Side 94 Sing! Glad Heart . . 103 Songs in the Night 115 Sleeps, Columbia 31 The Captain's Color Capture 14 The Soul's Summer Solstice 55 Think it Out 65 The Life 62 The Goal 67 The Man Without the Hoe 73 Three Views 79 Two Hits 82 The Shriek I Heard 88 The Worn Spirit 90 The Creed 92 The Immortals' Chantings 69 To-morrow is Another Day 97 The Bright'ning of the Dawning . . . 107 'Tis Only Once We Pass This Way . . 110 The Song of Southern California ... 119 When Gazing O'er This Sea 121 Where Shall I Write My Name? ... 105 Why Tolls the Bell? 59 Who Builds? 50 University of California SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 305 De Neve Drive - Parking Lot 17 Box 951388 LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA 90095-1388 Return this material to the library from which it was borrowed. . THE LIBRARY UNIVERSITY OF C \LIFORNIA LOS ANGELES 3.1158005643746 UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY PS 2368 M4298 A A 000024836 9 :^S|? So 1