^^^^^y^^ */lery variation of climate, every variety of scenery, is fraught with beauties which de- light the eye and gratify the heart. Dear and much- loved friends ! in the spring of rapture, in the summer of peaceful quiet, in the autumn of disappointment, and in the winter of ease — in your fatherly counsel my weakness found strength, in your unwearied kindness my grief a solace. What is death? Death, to the Christian, is the opening of the gates of light. The soul wins the goal for which it so long and tirelessly struggled while on earth, and the brow is encircled with a golden crown of glory. Friend of my soul ! perchance by the wa- ters of life we may meet, and talk of the joys and sor- rows of this nether world. Till life's fading evening shall waft thy worn and weary heart to the haven of everlasting rest, may Peace, celestial Peace, be the guest of thy bosom ! A clustp:r of roses. 119 jlIBtlintt'$ ¥j|tkb, ON THE ANNOUNCEMENT OF A FRIEND S ENGAGEMENT. There is joy for thee in the morning sky, In the brook as it dances merrily by, In the robin and cuckoo that sing in the tree; There is joy in the flowers, for they speak to thee Of beauty and fragrance transcendently bright, Of the rainbow of love that makes life all light. There's joy in the glances, the smiles of thy home; Joy in the friends who about thee come; In the beautiful stars as they gleam on the sight. There's joy in the moonbeams so pure and white: All voices of nature have joy for thee. For love thrills thee through with divine harmony. The joy will be lasting, if only thou tread In the footsteps of Jesus, our Saviour and head; Will glint through the shadows of sorrow's deep night, Illumine life's changes with sunshine and light: And at even thy soul's sweetest music will be — I have lived to my Saviour — he liveth in me. 120 A CLUSTER OF ROSES. LINES WRITTEN AFTER AN ANNIVERSARY AT THE HOME. [The day was dark and stormy ; but when they led me forth to pronounce my address, the sun came out and shone while I was speaking, for the first and only time during the day. This I called my Heavenly Father's smile.] I could not see it, Father — Thy smile so warm and bright; I could not" gaze enraptured — These orbs are veiled in night. But it thrilled my inmost being With joy's exquisite tone, To know thy smile was on me, That I was not alone. And oh ! how bright and beautiful That smile will seem to me, In the deep, dark gloom of midnight. When only thou canst see ; Or in the morn resplendent With gold and crimson hues. When flowers first open to the sun Their petals bright with dews. When grief or bitter anguish Lies heavy on this heart. The memory of my Father's smile Will oil and wine impart ; A CLUSTER OF ROSES. 121 ' Twill heal the wound though blading, ' Twill nerve the soul to bear The cross of every poignant pang, Of every needed care. I thank thee, Heavenly Father, For thy dear and welcome smile; It is the sunbeam of my soul, It cheers me all the while. And when life's cares are over, When faith is changed to sight, I'll bless thee, Father, for thy smile That made the darkness light. THE BIBLE. Though life seems like a fairy dream. And roseate hope's delusive beam Paints earth with radiant hues of light. And robes each thing with beauty bright. These glittering charms must pass away— Turn to thy Bible, turn and pray. Its words of love by God were given, To win his earth-born sons to heaven. Ephemeral joys too quickly die. And clouds obscure thy brilliant sky; Thou hast a refuge in that day — Turn to thy Bible, turn and pray. 122 A CLUSTER OF ROSES. The peace of God, a joy divine, One promised hope will still be thine. The hope of Heaven's celestial light More brightly shines through sorrow's night; It gems with ever-glorious ray Thy blessed Bible — turn and pray. It bids the heart by grief oppressed Its burden cast on Jesus' breast; It sends despairing thoughts afar. By the pure light of Bethlehem's star. From sin and sorrow turn away; Turn to thy Bible, read and pray. Learn to endure, to wait, to trust; Thy God is merciful and just. Nor will he leave his helpless one Forsaken, desolate, and lone; No, cheered by faith's inspiring ray, Turn to thy Bible, read and pray. Let faith thy fearful steps illume, Reflect its glory round the tomb; The gates of Heaven unbarred shall be, Thou shalt thy God, thy Saviour, see. Thy Bible speaks — it points the way; Turn to thy Bible, read and pray. A CLUSTER OF ROSES. 123 LINES ON THE DEATH OF A SON OF ALONZO R. CUSHMAN, AGED THIRTEEN. I know your bleeding hearts Are agonized with pain ; The young, the cherished one departs, And comes not back again. Those mild, soft words of his Woke love's exquisite thrill ; His winning smile, his last fond kiss, Play round your heart-strings stiU. One less to glad the ear ; One less to charm the sight ; One less to breathe his evening prayer. To say to all "good night." And ever and anon Will dear mementos come Of your dead child, your darling one — The sunbeam of your home. Those tears kept back by grief Will in the heart sink down ; Jesus alone can give relief. He wore th,^ thorny crown. He wept as now ye weep ; He knows the weight of woe, 124 A CLUSTER OF ROSES. The torturing pangs that will not sleep, That rend your bosoms so. These are the hours most fraught With tender love divine ; The souls with precious ransom bought, Ere with the Lord they shine, Must feel the thorns of earth, Ere reaching heavenly peace, The rapture of a holier birth, A love that cannot cease. So young, of bliss the heir ! Oh ! is it not sweet joy To know that taint of sin can ne'er Pollute your darling boy.'' He might not linger here, God's holy will is best ; Gone from temptation's hidden snare. Gone from the world's unrest. In faith go hand in hand, Kneel to the Saviour mild. And see among yon glittering band. Your own beloved child, Gathering the flowers most fair That g£m his home of light; His glorious home ye too may share. When faith is changed to sight. A CLUSTER OF ROSES. 125 SEVENTEEN YEARS. Seventeen years of heavenly fruitage, Golden with the wealth of love, Fragrant with affection's incense, Leave us naught but joy to prove : Closer, closer, is the tie That we knit in years gone by. Seventeen years, love ! see our treasures, Three in number, near us play. Yielding strength and giving gladness. Casting sunbeams on our way. One is with the angels singing, Where the flowers of life are springing. Seventeen years — Oh ! may we linger Longer by each other's side. For our hearts will be as youthful As the day you were my bride. Winter's snows cannot destroy Love's perennial flowers of joy. May the path that lies before us Be like that our lives have seen ; May our lambs be led by Jesus Through his pastures fresh and green; We our strength as weakness own, We must supplicate the throne. Supplicate from God our Saviour Wisdom as we pass along. 126 A CLUSTER OF ROSES. That their souls may be enlightened, Be in virtue firm and strong ; That in man and womanhood They may be the truly good. Thus their lives will be immortal, Thus our own with theirs may blend. Standing near the God of glory At whose footstool low we bend ; This will far o'erpay the years Spent for them in works and prayers. THE ANNIVERSARY OF A MOTHER'S DEATH. I woke from sleep's enchantment, The tears were falling fast; Oh! I was weeping, mother. Was weeping o'er the past. I kissed my hand, dear mother, And thought how sweet 'twould be, To feel once more upon my brow One loving kiss from thee. 'Tis but a year, sweet mother, Since I knelt beside thy bed. And held thine icy hand in mine. But I could not think thee dead! A CLUSTER OF ROSES. 127 I kissed thy brow, my mother, Closed thy dear eyes the while, That morn and night were wont to greet Thy child with love's sweet smile. Oh! I am weeping, mother! 'Tis but a year ago I heard the murmuring cadence Of thy voice so sweet and low — " I leave thee to thy Saviour, My darling and my joy; Thy God will be thy father. My own beloved boy." Oh! would, my angel mother, Thou couldst look down from Heaven, And see how fraught with blessings Are the precepts thou hast given! Far sweeter than earth's music Were thy words of love to me; Dearer than soft Eolian tones, Or richest harmony. 'Tis but a year, sweet mother. Since I knelt beside thy bed, And caught thy last, faint, quivering breath. And sobbed out, " She is dead! " And thou art dead, sweet mother. But not to me, — Oh no! A love so pure, so strong as thine, Eternal years must know. 128 A CLUSTER OF ROSES. HARRY'S BRIDAL MORN. Joy to thee, Harry ! exquisitely sweet Is the sunbeam of love, as it plays round thy heart ; With rapture unbounded this rosy morn greet. For it brings to thee one that will nevermore part — That will nevermore part from the shelter of love She finds in thy presence, she finds at thy side ; 'Twill be thy blest lot through life's journey to prove The wealth of affection that lives in thy bride. As her soft eye confidingly turns up to thine, ' Tis rapturous delight her protector to be. To cause o'er her pathway bright blessings to shine, As together ye glide o'er life's changeable sea. May she solace each sorrow, and sweeten each joy. That ye share as through life's checkered pathway ye go ; Till ye drink the sweet waters that never will cloy. From the River of Life, which forever must flow, Through the regions of glory, where dazzlingly bright The Father is seated, the home of the blest ; Where with lustre unchanging the Lamb's holy light Is shining forever — the haven of rest. A CLUSTER OF ROSES. 129 ON THE DEATH OF THE SON AND DAUGH- TER OF THE REV. MR. OLSSEN. Two beauteous flowers that graced parental love And earth perfumed, have withered side by side, And crushed hearts bow submissively to prove God's holy will, and yet by faith abide. They would not ask why these sweet flowers were given To bloom so brightly, then to fade away; Why the strong tie of pure deep love was riven. Why they who gladdened might not longer stay! No ; 'tis not ours to ask our Father God Why fades the bright, why sinks the glowing sun; But like our Lord to walk the rough straight road, And learn like him to say, "Thy will be done." Brother and sister might not parted be; They kissed, and laid them down to death's last sleep; Sweet flowers are nestling 'neath the sheltering tree, And o'er their graves love's tender vigils keep. These little ones repose on Jesus' breast, Or walk transported 'mid the fields of light; In his white robes of righteousness are dressed. And tune their harps where faith is changed to sight. They closer bind to their angelic home Those stricken hearts, bleeding at every pore: Sweet voices seem to whisper, " Mother, come — Father, look up and weep for us no more." 130 A CLUSTER Of ROSES. Oh ! how these well-remembered voices cheer Their fainting footsteps ! How they charm away The heart's keen anguish and the gushing tear, And strength is given to live another day. And as they walk, by trusting faith illumed And memories of the past, the fragrant breath Of the sweet flowers that on their bosoms bloomed Will soothe their progress to the gates of death. FRIENDSHIP'S WHISPERS. In the hush of evening when the stars are bright, When the flowers are whisp'ring to the earth good-night, When the birds are sleeping on yon maple tree. Then my heart is keeping thoughts of thee. When the beams of morning dissipate the night, When the streams are dancing in the sun's glad light. When the woodland songsters make their minstrelsy, Then my heart is keeping thoughts of thee. When the holy Sabbath, by Jehovah blest, Bringeth to the weary peacefulness and rest, When the bell is sounding over hill and lea, Then my heart is keeping thoughts of thee. When the pealing organ floats along the air, When the people's voices blend in praise and prayer. Or in meek confession humbly bend the knee, Then my heart is keeping thoughts of thee. A CLUsTEk OF ROSES. 131 In the still dark moments when the angels come On their wings of glory from their heavenly home, When the Saviour bids them softly speak to me, Then my heart is keeping thoughts of thee. I cannot forget thee as I pass along, Catching moans of sorrow or the voice of song ; For our souls have mingled, oh! so pleasantly. And my heart is keeping thoughts of thee. THE FALL OF THE DINNER-POT. To all who have an hour to spend, I'll sing a little song * Please promise me you will not smile, When told it can't be long. Of death, of loss of property. Of blighted hope and love ; Of friends that coil around the heart. And then deceptive prove ? Ah ! there are hues of darker shade Reserved for each poor sinner ; But none their withering blast can know Who has not lost his dinner ! Seated in social converse sweet, The hours fled quickly past : And oft we turned, in hope to hear The dinner-bell at last. 13S A CLUSTER OF ROSES. And as the kitchen door would ope, Was the olfactory nerve Aye greeted by a savory smell, Which would as whetstone serv^ Of appetite. Table and chairs All in their places stood, And needed but their occupants And stores of savory food. What means that loud, tremendous crash ? Why startle with affright.^ Why stands aghast yon trembling girl. With lips so ashy white? "Ah me! my dear," said Mrs. P., " Ours is a woful lof ; An accident — our careful girl's Upset the dinner-pot. Yes ; there's a most delicious stew Lies strewn along the floor ! I'm sure those boards have never known Such feasting times before." Each to the other comfort spoke, For, from a bounteous store. An humbler meal the table graced : We ate, and laughed once more. And all agreed with one accord That we'd forget it not, — The day on which our hopes fell down With that said dinner-pot. A CLUSTER OF ROSfiS. . 133 DIRGE OF LIFE. Life is mournful, life is dreary, And my heart is sick and weary. For the rainbow hopes of years Suddenly dissolve in tears; And my heart is sick and weary. Poor, forsaken, crushed, and lonely. Sighing as^the night-winds only. Wrapped in deep Cimmerian gloom, I am passing to the tomb ; And my heart is sick and weary. Shrinking from the dread to-morrow. For the cold black waves of sorrow Lift their angry foam on high. Then I murmur, let me die, For my heart is sick and weary. FRIENDSHIP'S PRAYER FOR MRS. RUSSELL AND HER FAMILY, ON THEIR DEPARTURE FOR EUROPE. Take her. Father, in thy keeping. Bid thine angels near her be, While her loved ones round are sleeping On the dark and treacherous sea ; Tenderly thy hand-maid guide O'er the waste of waters wide. IM A CLUSTER OF ROSElS. May she cull the sweetest flowers Thou dost give thy children here; In those bright and jewelled hours, May she know that thou art near; Lovingly, O Father, be Guardian of the cherished three! In the valley, on the mountain, In the grove, or near the stream. In the dim wood, by the fountain, On the lake in sunlight gleam, Still, O Father, hear my prayer — Guard them with thy tender care! When they view the great creations Of the mighty now in dust. And the sepulchre of nations Who made not the Lord their trust. May their souls adore and bless Thee, the God of righteousness, For the noble land where learning Freely to the poor is given, Where no fettered soul is turning With its weight of woe to Heaven; But the torch of freedom bright Burns with steadfast, glorious light. May they drink in nature's treasures. Revel in the wealth of art. Join in genial social pleasures, Gather sunbeams from the heart: A CLUSTER OF ROSES. 135 Still, O Father, hear my prayer — Let them be thy constant care! Bring them back in peace and gladness. When the autumn tints appear. With their hearts untouched by sadness, •To the friends who wait them here: Bring them safely o'er the main. Father, back to us again! IN MEMORIAM ISAAC D. RUSSELL. Even so, Father, for so it seemeth good in thy sight." Even so. Father, let it be. Though hearts bereaved are sore and bleeding, Though in the dark no light we see And weakness for thy strength is pleading; Yet as it seemeth good to thee. Even so, Father, let it be. He was a day-spring — more — a light. So warm, so genial, kind, and tender; His living made our lives more bright. His holy deeds we'll long remember; Now God will have him all his own. Whose deeds perfumed his radiant throne. He suffered meekly, patiently. And murmuring word was never spoken; 136 A CLUSTER OF ROSES. He bore heart-anguish silently, Though one by one hope's flowers were broken ; Serene as summer there he lay, And wore his strength, his life away. They bore him to his city home, While child's and mother's heart were breaking; Yet would faith's soothing whisper come, This is his soul's eternal waking; ' Tis with the Lord of life and light. Who conquered death's all-conquering might. Let him repose on earth's green breast; Above will summer birds be singing, Where golden sunbeams love to rest And beauteous flowers their sweets are flinging; Soft let the earth upon him fall, For widowed love has lost its all. The sounds her quivering heart-strings tear, How could a tie so strong e'er sever ? Oh ! must she turn and leave him there. Whose life seemed one with hers forever ? Yet earth-rent ties are knit in Heaven, For Jesus died and light is given. Father, they own thy guidance right. They feel thy ways are ways of blessing; They know the night precedes the light. And, thy deep love their souls possessing. In humble resignation stay Till night dissolves in perfect day. A CLUSTER OF ROSES. 137 TRUST IN GOD. DEDICATED TO MRS. MILLNER. Never weary in the path Our dear Lord and Saviour trod; Let the glorious torch of faith, Burning with undying ray, Be thy guide o'er life's rough way — It will lead thee safe to God. Never let thy courage die, Though temptations round thee throng. Lift aloft thy timid eye ! See, the pitying Saviour stands, Nerving hearts and strengthening hands. Though the stormy winds be strong, Faith in God is stronger yet: Armed with his celestial might, Heir of glory, ne'er forget. Though the furious breakers wild O'er thee dash, thou art his child, And shalt conquer in the fight. Walk in faith submissively To thy Father's wiser will; Let his love thy magnet be. Though thy bleeding heart be torn, Though no ray of hope be born. Trusting heart, be still, be still ! 138 A CLUSTER OF ROSES. Never heed the tempest's roar, Never heed though empires fall; Trust Jehovah as of yore — At his fiat nations move; In the plenitude of love, God is ruling over all ! Though thy way be veiled in night, Though no ray thine eye can see, He can lead thee to the light : He with watchful tender care Numbers every single hair; Can that God forgetful be? Father, God, thy will be done ! Though the chastening rod be given, I will trust and struggle on; Only let thy pitying love. Father, sometimes from above Cheer me with a glimpse of Heaven. Father, God, thy will be done, If through suffering patiently Glory's crown at last be won ! Let my soul's adornments be Patience, love, humility — Give the path of tears to me. A CLUSTER OF ROSES. WELCOMK HOME. 139 Welcome from the rifting sea, Darling of thy home, once more ! Loving hearts have pined for thee, Welcome to the scenes of yore ; Light and love about thee come, Jenny, Jenny, welcome home ! Welcome to the trusting love That to thee thy kindred bear. To the earnest words that prove All their tenderness and care ; Welcome, nevermore to roam — Jenny, Jenny, welcome home ! Welcome ! for thy voice, thy smile. Are as sunbeams ever bright ; Soothing sympathy the while Makes the deepest darkness light : Radiant hopes thy path illume — Jenny, Jenny, welcome home ! Welcome ! for thy heart is ours. And our strength shall be thy stay; Pure affection's holiest flowers Are not destined to decay : Young and old around thee come — Jenny, Jenny, welcome home ! 140 A CLUSTER OF ROSES. THE GOLDEN WEDDING. A poem recited at the fiftieth anniversary of the wedding of Mr. and Mrs, Floyd Smith, May 23, 1862. Pure affection's fond devotion Thrills each glowing heart to-night ; Rapture's holy high emotion Kindles warm ecstatic light; For the angelic throngs on high Bless this fair sight. Fifty years since at the altar Stood a young and joyous bride. Could those heaven-breathed vows e'er falter, As ye wandered side by side ? No; the Lord of life and love Was made your guide. Fifty years — how swift, how fleeting ! Now they seem but as a day ; Fifty years — and still ye're keeping Love's sweet vigil o'er life's way, Sharing joys and sharing sorrows While here ye stay. Ye behold your children's children, Jewelled links of heavenly love, Sparkling as the gems of morning, Fresh from God's dear hand above. Gathering gaily round your hearth-stone And whispering love. A CLUSTER OF ROSES. 143 Sleep, dear ones, in your shell-formed bed, Till God's omniscient voice ye hear; Then, ocean, earth, yield up your dead, Christ the Redeemer, Saviour, 's near. Bind up the wounded, broken heart. Dear Lord, our comforter and stay; Bid each regretful thought depart, And chase the gloom of grief away. TRIBUTE TO THE MEMORY OF THE REV. DR. TURNER. A great good man has fallen; But all his acts of love Most surely are recorded By angel hands above: And not one smile of kindness Can ever pass away, For sunny youth and hoary age Reflect its golden ray. The church has lost a treasure; But his pure thoughts will shine. With never-fading lustre. Far down the vale of time. Dear, holy, happy Christmas Comes with its festive store ; But the cypress shades the altar — We see his face no more. 144 A CLUSTER OF ROSES. His scholars mourn his exit; They never can forget His words of kindly welcome — They garland memory yet. 'Twas joy untold to know him; And knowledge brighter shone, When the flowers of his affection Among its pearls were thrown. Oh ! 'twas a priceless blessing In social life to find A friendship so ennobling, So constant, warm, and kind ; It tinged with hues of gladness The dark and dreary hours ; It breathed celestial music. It filled the heart with flowers. Let the sweet dew of comfort Drop, Father, from above. On the worn and anguished spirits Of the children of his love ; Let blessed resignation Bid grief's dark waves be still. And peace, O pitying Saviour, Their stricken bosoms fill! Praise to thy name, Jehovah! Faith's glorious work is done ; This mortal is immortal. Triumphing through thy Son. A CLUSTER OF ROSES. 141 Ye have taught the lyre to warble Music from the upper sky; In the soul's deep fount created Golden thoughts that never die — Thoughts inspired by deeds of love, That live for aye. Honored, loved, revered, remembered, Shall your names forever be; For your hearts vibrated sweetly To the touch of sympathy: The forsaken, desolate, Your crown shall be. May your lives be always golden, 'Mid the sunshine, 'mid the rain. With the dew of God's own blessing. And the life that lives again! Every heart in this assemblage Responds "Amen!" LINES ON THE LOSS OF THE STEAMER ARCTIC. A beauteous palace on the deep, Majestic glides its waters o'er; The crested billows seem to sleep. Hushed are the storm-winds by the shore. 142 A CLUSTER OF ROSES. There sheds sweet Hope her radiant light; There youthful hearts expectant beat; The eyes of age grow strangely bright, While childhood feels its influence sweet. For hallowed thoughts of friends most dear Softer than music o'er them come; The father's kiss, the mother's tear, The husband's loving welcome home. Anon, the frantic shriek of woe, The deep-toned groan of man's despair ! Hot, silent tears of anguish flow, While Faith sends up the earnest prayer. The husband clasps his darling wife. And fondly she her little child; All seek the blessed boon of life. Struggling amid the waters wild. . Pure hearts that angels bless above, Fond eyes for others' woe that weep — Oh ! what rich stores of human love Sink down forever in the deep ! Our gentle Anna sleeping there, — Her sparkling eye and thoughtful brow. The low-toned voice to friendship dear, And kindly words, we hear them now. We hear them now; in memory's bowers They leave a soft perpetual bloom; The fragrance of those deathless flowers Gilds with immortal light the tomb. A CLUSTER OF ROSES. 147 Riding with the whirlwind's fleetness, With the might of manly will, Nothing daunted, pressing onward, He has gained the dangerous hill. Liberty has nerved his spirit, And its light is in his eye: " By the Yankee soul within me, I'll be free, or else I'll die! Never shall these limbs be fettered, — I will conquer in the fight. Or be lost in bloodiest battle, In the glorious cause of right." Forward yet with strength unfailing, Followed closely by the foe, Down the rocky steps he gallops, Thundering to the plains below! Halting on the heights, the British Cry, " He's lost — the race is won ! " But beyond their reach, in triumph, Rides the dauntless hero on. Smiles irradiate his features As he waves his hat on high. And his voice rings through the distance. Bidding them a gay good-bye. Gazing still, they cried, "We're baffled!" Turned they from the rock away. Did they meet again ? Yes, often, In the fierce and bloody fray; 148 A CLUSTER OF ROSES. For the earth was dyed with purple E'er the dawn of freedom's day. Feeble, few, yet firm and faithful, Was that valiant Pilgrim band; Freely was their life-blood offered, To defend their native land ; Yes, the pearl we now are wearing Was the purchase of their heart. Oh ! by all that makes life precious. Never, never with it part ! Let the glory of its splendor Down through coming ages dart From its lustrous scintillations Spring prosperity and might ; Guard it with unwearying vigil, Guard it as your life, your light ! For, should ruthless hand destroy it. Sinks our land in rayless night. Let no wily politician Dare to dim its faintest ray; North and South, in one strong phalanx, Rise, should secret foe betray ! Ye are brothers, for our fathers. Side by side, to make us free. Gave the heroes' holiest offering. Blood and life, for Liberty. A CLUSTER OF ROSES. 145 No more the cross of suffering, But a jewelled crown most bright Adorns the brow of the holy man, Heir of eternal light. TO EMILY. May no blighting care or sadness Cloud thy sunny sky of gladness, Through life's checkered road; But in youth's resplendent morning. With a fond and tender yearning. May thy guileless heart be turning To its Maker, God. When life's winning smile is o'er thee, When no shadow flits before thee, Then remember God; When sweet friendship's flowers are springing, On thy soul their perfume flinging, When the bird of hope is singing. Then remember God. When thy every day is clouded. When thy joy in grief is shrouded, Then remember God ; When sweet friendship's flowers are dying, When thy soul for rest is sighing. And e'en hope away is flying. Then remember God. 146 A CLUSTER OF ROSES. When thy heart with griefs o'erflowing, Naught of earthly comfort knowing, Then remember God ; Cast thy burden on thy Saviour — In his kind and gracious favor Thou shalt find sweet comfort ever : Then remember God. From thy sins he fain would move thee, Yet with trials he would prove thee. Then remember God ; 'Neath the wings of his protection, Let thy heart's deep warm affection Seek alone divine direction : Oh! remember God. GENERAL PUTNAM'S LEAP. [These thoughts were suggested to the writer while standing on Putnam's Hill, at Greenwich; Conn, . The precipitous flight of steps down which the General made his escape on horse- back, has been taken away; and it is difficult for us at this re- mote day to realize the great peril of the adventure.] Rushing with the speed of lightning. O'er the frozen ground he flew, — Rushing breathless, rushing wildly, For the hurrying foe pursue. Near and nearer they are coming, They are gaining on him still ! A CLUSTER OF ROSES. 149 STANZAS ON THE DEATH OF MR. SILAS BROWN, A GENEROUS FRIEND OF THE BLIND. An aged saint beloved on earth, Dear to his Saviour and his God, Whose pious deeds of heavenly birth Cheered sorrow's children on life's road, Sweetly in Jesus fell asleep. And left the desolate to weep. Yet still he lives! The hallowed light Of his example shines below. Diffusing holy radiance bright O'er the dark vale of earthly woe. Oh! let us tread the path he trod — The path of peace, of love to God. Oh! well do I remember now His feeling heart, his voice so kind; How wreathed with smiles was each young brow, When the dear guardian of the blind Gladdened our home with gentle tone, And made our little griefs his own. Those generous friends of early day, Who toiled to make our lot more blest. Are passing one by one away, — Gone from this weary world's unrest, To reap in heaven their bright reward, And ever be with God, the Lord. 150 A CLUSTER OF ROSES. We mourn their loss who knew them best, And heartfelt tears of grief will come O'er the dear memories of the blest, Bright day-star of our childhood's home, While gratitude's immortal song Re-echoes names remembered long. Ye who were twined by earliest love Around each fibre of his soul, Who felt his spirit's softest move And yielded to his sweet control. With yours our prayers and tears we blend, Who mourn a guardian and a friend. Father in Heaven, 'twas thou alone That gav'st that friend to cheer our path, Who stands before thy radiant throne Victorious o'er the power of death; We bow, we kiss thy chastening rod — Thy will be done, our Father, God! PARTING AND MEETING. Oh! there are moments when the heart's deep woe Rejects the balm of consolation sweet; When the hot tears of parting anguish flow, And the dear ones we erst were wont to greet With love's sweet incense bid us sad adieu, And, like the crimson hues of day's declining, Fade fast away and vanish from our view, Leaving but darkness where the sun was shining. A CLUSTER OF ROSES. 151 Oh! there are hours when faithful memory pours The gush of feeling and of wealth untold, When joy exquisite opes the long-closed doors, And hearts exultant cannot be controlled ; For friends long parted meet on earth once more, And hand clasps hand — 'tis real bliss, not deeming; And glad thoughts gem the happy soul all o'er, Bright as the rose-tints in the orient beaming. Oh! if to meet on this our sin-stained earth, Where parting tears perchance may flow again. To such ecstatic thrills of joy give birth. That we forget our bygone years of pain, Can man portray the rapture of that time When, with the angels and the Lord of glory. We tune our harps in heaven's celestial clime. And chant for aye redeeming love's sweet story ? LINES TO MY FRIEND, MR. SCOTT, ON VISITING HIS NATIVE PLACE. Thou art going again to thy boyhood's home, To the land where thy fathers sleep ; Thou wilt sit beneath the hallowed dome Of the little kirk — sweet thoughts will come From the fountain of feeling deep. Thou wilt trace the links of memory's chain, Through the lapse of departed years; 152 A CLUSTER OF ROSES. And thy heart will feel the shock of pain, For the loved thou mayst not see again — They have gone from this world of tears. But the little brook will murmur by, And the flowers will be just as gay. The grass as green, and as bright the sky. As when first they caught thy laughing eye In the dawn of thy childhood's day. And thy hand will feel the grasp of love, Warm friendship will greet thee there; For more radiant than the stars above Are the bright links affection wove, Gemmed with the dew of prayer. Each treasured scene's familiar still — The humble peasant's cot, The cattle grazing on the hill, The heather-bank, the glassy rill, Each fairy-haunted spot. God bless thee, honored friend most dear, God speed thee o'er the main; Warm hearts will greet thy coming here, Love breathes for thee the earnest prayer — Dear friend, return again ! A CLUSTER OF ROSEB. 153 ADDRESS WRITTEN FOR A SUNDAY-SCHOOL PICNIC AT EAST CHATHAM. Deep in the heart's remotest springs is joy, Diffusing holy rays of lambent light Through every heart in this umbrageous wood. With the sweet minstrels of the sylvan shade, We swell the song of gratitude and praise To God, whose love these bright surroundings gave. In the blest school that duly on each moVn Of holy Sabbath opes the welcome door. The young may find celestial joys displayed, God's amaranth joys that cannot fade or die. The joys of earth that thrill with glad delight, The noxious breath of morrow's woe may blight; But not like these are the undying joys That woo acceptance in your Sabbath-School. Come, then, with hearts impressible and meek; Come ere the flight of never-resting time Tells the last day in life's revolving sphere. Come in the dew-gemmed morn of early youth ! To God, who gave you being, give your hearts; And, as ye toil o'er life's fatiguing way, Gather the pearls of everlasting bliss, And lay your treasure at the Saviour's feet. The sun dispenses rosy light and warmth On this glad morn, and through the leaf-clad trees The gentle zephyr sings his matin song. 154 A' CLUSTER OF ROSES. All things are vocal with Jehovah's praise. This blithesome day is life's sweet episode, And in the winter of the heart's dim age Its memories sweet will, like a fragrant flower, Bring back again the warm glad light of youth. And cause the heart by care and grief bowed down Buoyant to rise and live joy's moments o'er. God prosper, then, these country Sabbath-Schools! And every year may young lambs gathered be In the good Shepherd's fold, the fold of Christ — Participants of deathless Bible joys, That shine so brightly on the living page. I DO NOT SEE THE ANGELS YET.' I cannot see them yet, mother — The angels robed in white; But I feel a blessed calm, mother ; I see a heavenly light. I know the dazzling beauty Of the dear Son of God ; Then I would not have you weep, mother. When I go to his abode. He wants your daughter now, mother. To wear a crown above; I shall see the angels then, mother. And sing redeeming love. A CLt^STKR OF ROSES. 155 I fondly love you all, mother, Yet may not here abide; There's a voice that calls me home, mother, — A voice from the other side. It warms this fainting heart, mother, With vivid, heavenly ray. Come, dear ones, kiss me for the last, Then let me go away. Be sure the angels bright, mother, Will come down from on high, To take me where the white-robed sing Glory to God for aye. THE FRIENDS' MEETING, A holy heavenly light Gladdens the dew- wet earth; The silent flowers perfume the air, Hushed is the cry of earthly care; The blessed Sabbath's birth Is ushered in with praise and prayer. All nature seems to feel A sense of peaceful rest, And hearts in unison are still, Waiting the Spirit's quickening thrill. To kindle in the breast Adoring love for God's dear will. 156 A CLUSTER OF ROSES. No ornament is here, No love of vain display ; The unpainted house is dear to God — In humble hearts is his abode, Who sends the proud away. But leads the meek up Zion's road. A hallowed stillness reigns : Only the summer breeze Floats softly through the sycamore. Through maple trees close by the door, Down to the locust grove. And seems to whisper — weep no more. The solemn meeting ends: Then kindly greetings come, And tender w^ords fall soft and low, Pure as the flakes of driven snow. Far the dear ones at home Would others' joys and sorrows know. . So part they all in peace : So may they meet in Heaven, Where names are lost in perfect love — Where all, as one, shall sweetly prove The bliss of sins forgiven, The light of Jesus, Lord above. A CLUSTER OF ROSES. 157 TO MRS. A. FREAR, WHO BEFRIENDED ME IN LIFE's DARKEST HOUR. And the King shall answer and say unto them, Verily I say unto you, inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me. — Matthew, XXV. 40. When all creation, trembling with dismay, Hears the archangel's trumpet rend the skies, When earth dissolves and heaven shall pass away, And they that sleep arise; Then myriad hosts shall shrinking stand before The starry throne of God's eternal Son, And angels tell their trespasses all o'er. Noting them one by one. In that black hour of awful dread dismay. When hope dies out before the avenging rod. To thee will Christ in soothing accents say. Come to thy Father, God. For I was naked, sick with doubts and fears- Was hungry, fainting, weeping, all alone, And thou didst wipe away my falling tears. And make my woes thine own. Welcome, thou blessed! To my kingdom come! I saw thee cheer my long-afflicted child; The poor had access to thy genial home — I saw their joy and smiled. lo8 A CLUSTER OP ROSE^. In wondering love and deep humility Thy soul will cry, I knew it not, my Lord! "Thou didst it unto them; therefore to me 'Twas done. Take thy reward! " I shall be there, thy witness in that hour. And clasp thy hand, no more a homeless one- No longer sightless in yon amaranth bower, Where shines the light of love. The Lamb's pure light, ineffable and sweet, Will shine forever in the upper skies; There the fair face of Christ be first to greet My unclosed eyes. All I have known of cruel wrongs and tears Will be forgotten in that perfect rest; And I may hope with thee, the friend of years. Forever to be blest. Not on the earth do holy deeds like thine Find their reward; their record is above: On Jesus' breast they have their fitting shrine, These gems of heavenly love. A CLUSTER OF ROSES. 159 FAITH. My bark is on a stormy sea, By rough winds tosaed and driven; Helpless, O God, I cry to thee! My shield, my rock, my refuge be — My faith clings fast to Heaven. Then, though I mount each billowy steep, Then, though life's bark be riven. It cannot founder in the deep ; The changeless mercy will not sleep Of God who rules in Heaven. I will not yield to dark despair: The cup his hand has given I drink with patience, and declare That joyfully his cross I bear, In hope of winning Heaven. God has not sent one useless blow, One pang unneeded given ; For the redeemed must suffer so, Must tread the thorny path below, To shine with Christ in Heaven. Then bless, my soul, the chastening rod ; In love each stroke is given, To bring thee nearer to thy God, And in the straight and narrow road To lead thee up to Heaven. 160 A CLUSTER OF ROSES. "COME, LET US GO TO JESUS." [These were the last words of Mr. Sanford to his weeping wife.] Come, let us go to Jesus ! Forbear from tears of woe; Come, let us go to Jesus — Why tarry here below.? I cannot go without thee, My darling wife, most dear, My sunlight and my gladness — How can I leave thee here ? Come, let us go to Jesus; Or, if thou linger yet A little longer in life's vale. Before its sun shall set, Oh ! lay thy heart resigned Low at our Father's feet. And take with joy from his dear hand The bitter with the sweet. I must go alone to Jesus ! The chill, cold hand of death Is on my brow — is on my heart — It stops my quivering breath. Yet let me feel the pressure Of thy lips upon my brow, And catch my last faint whisper, For I'm passing from thee now. A CLUSTER OF ROSES. 161 Come, follow me to Jesus ! I would not be alone; There's a place for thee in Heaven Before the great white throne. Come, follow me to Jesus; Come, swell the Saviour's song; Come, follow me to Jesus; Come, join the glittering throng. LINES WRITTEN FOR MRS. H. On the return of her daughter, who left her a bride, and after two years' absence came back, bringing her little child. Thy brow was wreathed with love's sweet smiles. Love's winning smiles of holy light; Whose influence in the soul creates A fount whose drops are ever bright; And as I gazed on that dear brow, I could not bear thee from my sight. I watched thee from thy cradle hours. The unfolding of each new-born grace. That in thy soul celestial bloomed. Or shed effulgence o'er thy face; Then did I clasp thee once again, In a long, tender, last embrace. Then to the husband of thy choice. Who wooed so lovingly my flower. 162 A CLUSTER OF ROSES. I gave thee with a mother's prayer — That God would be thy shield and tower, Would lead thee through life's devious ways, And be thy comfort hour by hour. Years have gone by on rosy wing; "^ I see my darling child once more — But not alone — a prattler sweet Is blithely gamboling on the floor; And as I gaze in her dark eyes, I seem to live life's young days o'er. This tie more closely binds the links Of tender love's unbroken chain. 'Twill brighten youth, 'twill gladden age, 'Twill sweeten joy and solace pain ; A new life to thy life is given, A soul that cannot die again. The sparkling drops of purest joy. Well in my soul, as on the face Of thy dear child entranced I gaze. For there thy lineaments I trace ; A second Ellie greets the eye, And wins the heart with artless grace. Then welcome to thy childhood's home. With the dear pledge our God has given; The offspring of connubial bliss. The bud thou mayst unfold for Heaven. Oh! early in her soul implant The holy precepts God has given. A CLUSTER OF ROSES. 163 SIGHT TO THE BLIND. THEIR BIBLE. We cannot look on the sunset ray, As it fades from the western hills away ; Nor the moon, as she mirrors her silvery beam On the mountain-top and the rippling stream ; Nor the golden stars of the dark, dark night, As they cheer the world with their holy light — But the Bible unfolds to the sightless eye The fadeless light of Eternity. When morning unveils her dappled light, When the sun goes forth in splendor bright, Gladdening the earth with his vivid ray, Calling from slumber the new-born day, Tingeing the flowers with his rosy hue That late were kissed by the morning dew, While charms so entrancing to sight are given, Our Bible is whisp'ring of beauty in Heaven. When nature rejoicing awakes from sleep. She blends her song with the mighty deep, — A song of praise to our Father above. The Fountain of mercy, the Source of love — Who calms every sorrow and soothes every sigh. And shows by his goodness his presence is nigh — He gives to the children of darkness and night The day-star of glory — the Bible, their light. 164 A CLUSTER OF ROSES. Sweet message of comfort, dear treasure divine, The pearl of humility gleams in each line. There we learn how with meekness life's trials to bear, How faith tunes the soul to the music of prayer; The wide-spreading knowledge that brightens the age. Dear Bible, we owe to thy life-giving page. 'Twas the soft voice of Jesus, with mercy combined, That gave to our country these schools for the blind. LINES ON THE DEATH OF WILLIAM EDWARD, WHO DIED ON THE AN- NIVERSARY OF HIS parents' WEDDING-DAY, AFTER AN ILL- NESS OF ONLY TWENTY-EIGHT HOURS — AGED 22 YEARS. Love's golden harp, with rich mellifluous tones, Vibrated sweetly on the charmed ear, Till bright-eyed hope and dovelike peace serene Harmonious blent in one entrancing swell: — Unpitying Death this golden harp unstrung. Oh ! 'twas a time when pleasure's rosy hues Reflected radiance on all gathered there; For warm affections, circling in the soul, Tinged with its light the swiftly passing hours, When ruthless Death the sacred harp untuned. Broke its sweet string and pierced a mother's heart. A father wept o'er the still, lifeless form Of the dear boy whose smile illumed his life — Whose eye was brightest in the happy throng — Whose tones were gayest in the halls of mirth. But gentle thoughts, like Hermon's dew, embalmed A CLUSTER OF ROSES. 165 The hidden chambers of his secret soul; His heart could feel another's bitter woe, His hands relieve the sons of poverty. Prized for his worth, his virtues lent a grace To the pure pleasures of the social hearth. A halo beauteous as the rosy morn His memory left for loving friendship's gaze. So bright, so joyous, and so well beloved, His slightest tones seemed ever musical — Seemed musical to a fond mother's heart, Now stricken, bowed by grief's stern agony. How desolate that lonely mother weeps, As if her spirit had not strength to be ! O Jesus, hear her wild despairing cry ! Heal thou the wounds of her poor bleeding heart, And give her strength to rest her hopes in thee — On thee in faith, our Father and our God, To see her child in radiant realms of light, Beck'ning her upward to their dazzling gates. ON THE BIRTH OF AGNES FREAR. Welcome, sweet babe, to this world of ours, To the smile of love and affection's kiss ! May hope thy pathway adorn with flowers. And life to thee open a world of bliss; Nor a shadow of doubt or sorrow come, To dim the light of thy sunny home. Choicest of heaven-sent treasures thou art ; Sunbeam of joy to thy father dear ; 1C6 A CLUSTER OF ROSES. Rainbow of hope to thy mother's heart, As she breathes o'er thy sleeping form a prayer — "Our Father, I pray thee her guardian be! The Limb thou hast sent me, oh ! cherish for thee." And thy aunt with her laughing face is near, To catch the glance of thy bright blue eye, To breathe soft words in thy tiny ear, And kiss thy cheek as the moments fly — Moments so laden with peace and joy That they seem too pure for this world's alloy. O Agnes dear, mayst thou live to prove The comfort of hearts so devoted to thee. To reflect the bright hues of a mother's love, The solace and stay of thy father to be, While the tones of love, ever gentle and clear, Shall come like sweet music to gladden thine ear. Then welcome, sweet babe, to this world of ours. To the smile of love and affection's kiss ! May hope thy pathway deck with flowers, And life to thee open a world of bliss ; Nor a shadow of doubt or sorrow come, To dim the light of thy sunny home. A CLUSTER OF ROSES. 167 WELCOME TO MR. S. B. HAINES AND FAMILY, ON THEIR RETURN FROM THEIR EUROPEAN TRAVELS, NOV. 6, 1875. Rapturous thrills of warm emotion Lift the soul with praise to God, For the forms of love's devotion Tread again their native sod. From the land of fame and story, From the ocean's lull and foam, From the battle-fields once gory, Welcome, dear ones — welcome home! From the shrines where holy duty Keeps the heart from growing cold; From the scenes where art and beauty New ecstatic sense unfold; To the heart-warm deathless treasure Of a love that cannot roam. To the fireside's genial pleasure, Welcome, dear ones — welcome home ! Oh! the peace that never slumbers, Offspring of affection deep ; Oh ! the love whose sacred numbers Home-born memories fragrant keep ; These around your way were shining, GHnting o'er the path ye've come ; Heart-flowers, wreaths of hope are twining. Welcome, dear ones — welcome home ! 168 A CLUSTER OF ROSES. For the tones of home are ever Sweet, with kindly feelings fraught; In the soul they make forever Music on the harp of thought. Oh ! 'tis joy to know you're near me, That again my steps may come Where the good true-hearted cheer me. Welcome, dear ones — welcome home! FAREWELL TO THE OLD HOME! recited on its nineteenth anniversary, st. Luke's day. Dear ladies, and patrons, and friends of our Home, And strangers who gather about us to-day, With hearts tuned to charity's music ye've come. Enriched with the perfume of sympathy's ray. Ye've come, and your presence is dear to each heart. Yet the notes of farewell I must warble to-day; From this Home of our joy and our rest we must part. Must leave the dear church that has long been our stay. But our Pastor is faithful, our Pastor is true. And the links of affection are holy and strong; So I think the best thing in the world we can do Is to pack up the Doctor and take him along. A church to the glory of God will be there, "The Beloved Disciple" its name, you must know; Its walls will be vocal with praises and prayer. And our Pastor will comfort the children of woe. A CLUSTER OF ROSES. 169 In the beautiful Home ye have reared for God's poor, Will your names be the sunbeams that scintillate light; Ye have patiently labored to open its door, And have garnered the jewels our Lord will make bright. In the Park when we ramble at noon or at eve, We'll tell the dear Saviour the works of your love; You will find 'twas more blessed to give than receive, When ye stand in the Lamb-lighted presence above. We go to our Home, when the glad voice of Spring Shall call from their slumber the birds and the flowers; Yet affection will linger on memory's wing, To nestle round this, the old Home of bright hours. Then come to us, patrons and strangers, we -pray — Come see how your love-deeds have brightened our sky; Oh! give us a place in your mem'ry alway — Dear friends of St. Luke's Home, God bless you — good-bye! PRAYER FOR GUIDANCE. Dear Heavenly Father, lead thy child. For all is d'esolate and drear; The world is cheerless, cold, and dark, And I am wandering homeless here: Let me one ray of gladness see — O Father, Father, lead thou me ! 170 A CLUSTER OF ROSES. Dear Heavenly Father, lead thy child; I know not where my footsteps tend — I see no kindly hand outstretched, Thy poor afflicted to befriend: Let me one ray of sunshine see — O Father, Father, lead thou me ! Dear Heavenly Father, lead thy child; Fm wandering o'er life's thorny way, Through gloomy thickets pressing on. Without one golden beam of day: Let me thy guiding finger see — O Father, Father, lead thou me ! Dear Heavenly Father, lead thy child, And I will walk by faith, not sight; Look up to Christ, the meek and mild, For gleams of holy, heavenly light: Let me thy guiding finger see — O Father, Father, lead thou me! Dear Heavenly Father, lead thy child! And, though no earthly home be "given, ril meekly tread the tangled wild — It is enough, my home is Heaven; Only thy finger let me see — O Father, Father, lead thou me! Dear Heavenly Father, lead thy child ; Though scorned by men, oppressed and lone, From out the depths my soul shall rise Up to thy bright and glorious throne : A CLUSTER OF ROSES. 171 Let me thy guiding finger see — O Father, Father, lead thou me! Dear Heavenly Father, lead thy child To cast on thee her every care. By thy sweet peace and love beguiled To live on earth thy life of prayer : Let me thy guiding finger see — O Father, Father, lead thou me ! Dear Heavenly Father, lead thy child, As in thy wisdom seemeth best ; Mark out the way that she should go Through the dire scenes of earth's unrest: Let me thy guiding finger see — O Father, Father, lead thou me! Dear Heavenly Father, lead thy child To glorify thy name on earth ; To suffer wrong with patience mild. And humbly wait her heavenly birth : It is enough, thy hand I see — O Father, Father, lead thou me ! TO OUR SISTER IN HEAVEN. Sister, we are sad without thee. For thy smile was ever bright, And thy voice was sweet with kindness, And thy soul was full of light — 172 A CLUSTER OF ROSES. Light that shed its hues around thee, Made each one more happy, blest; Gentle words, like dew of Hermon, Soothed the bleeding heart to rest. When the cares of day are over. When the golden sun has set. And we meet for social converse. There thy spirit lingers yet. And we seem to hear thee speaking, Start and gaze — thou art not here; Gone to join our cherub darling In a purer, holier sphere. Sister, we would not recall thee Back to sin-stained earth again. Where is shed the tear of anguish. Where is heard the moan of pain. God, thy Saviour, saw thee fading. Filled thy soul with trusting faith; Glories radiant, smiles eternal, Cheered the shadowy vale of death. Life had many charms to win thee; Loved by all, of spirit gay. Friendship threw her magic round thee, Strewed with flowers thy passing way. Tears of sadness, sighs of sorrow. Woke thy tenderest sympathy; Sufferers on life's stormy ocean Found a faithful friend in thee. A CLUSTER OF ROSES. 173 Hearts remembered keep thy memory, As a fragrant lovely flower, Nourished by the tears of friendship, Gathers beauty, strength, and power. Rest thee in thy Saviour's keeping, Where our little darling's gone; Swell the choral song of Heaven, Prom the dear Redeemer's throne. "WHAT I DO THOU KNOWEST NOT NOW, BUT THOU SHALT KNOW HEREAFTER." [These thoughts were suggested by a visit to a poor woman who had been confined to her bed for forty years.] Not yet to thee will God all-glorious, wise, And merciful, make his great purpose known; But thou shalt see, with faith-illumined eyes. How through much suffering his dear love was shown. Now thou dost weep in untold agony, Yet he is present in the midnight hour — He who did sweat great drops of blood for thee, And is the brightness of his Father's power. Although the cross he lays upon thee now A burden prove, his ways are ways of love; Each pang shall be a jewel on thy brow, When thou dost wear thy shining robe above. 174 A CLUSTER OF ROSES. Then thou shalt know why trials must be thine, Why thou art helpless on thy sister's care; And thou wilt bless thy Saviour, Lord divine. That thou art worthy found his cross to bear. THOUGHTS FOR THE FATHER AND MOTHER OF LITTLE BESSIE. " It is well." She was so bright and beauteous, So like a thing of light, That the angels, bowing lowly Before the throne of white. Asked the dear Lord, our Saviour, If to their native heaven. Before the blight of sin Her pure heart entered in, This infant might be given. And Jesus saw how closely Love's tendrils round her clung. Their idol and their worship, So heavenly and so young; — And he knew the bitter anguish That would rend her parents' heart. But he knew what wealth of love Would garnered be above. When this babe with earth should part ; — A CLUSTER OF ROSES. 175 So he granted their petition : And your darling, lost to sight, Is resplendent with the glory Of the Lamb's eternal light ; And when your hearts are ready. When life's duties all are done, Ye will know your daughter sweet, As ye walk the golden street Of the land beyond the sun. TRUTH glorious Truth, immortal Truth ! From the first dawn of early youth, 1 loved thy bright celestial ray. Whose radiance cheered my rayless way. I seek thee in the night-time drear. When golden stars illume the sphere; I hail thee with the morning bright. That robes the world in beauteous light. Majestic Truth ! for thy dear sake Alone, my sad complaint I make; Still sightless, homeless, wander I, With none to heed the orphan's cry. Beyond this dark and dismal night I cannot see one ray of light; 176 A CLUSTER OF ROSES. Yet, Truth, where'er my steps may be, I joy that I did cling to thee. I would not throw away one gem That sparkles in thy diadem, For all the dazzling vain array That tempting Falsehood can display. Father in Heaven, with mercy mild Look down and help thy sorrowing child; The fears, the tears, are known to thee, Of her who would Truth's martyr be. CIDER'S REBELLION. Seated around the social board. With thoughts of naught but gladness, When something chanced, oh! strange to tell. It was so like to madness; It popped, it hissed, it soared aloft. Not on an angel's pinion; It said, " I'll do a mighty thing, I'll raise a great rebellion. I'll make them from the table rise. And run for clear cold water; I'll make them for their dinner wait. Each hungry son and daughter. A CLUSTER OF ROSES. 177 But Maggie's ribbon first I'll spoil, The table-cloth beside her; I'll leave my marks upon the wall, Great things can do old cider! I'll hiss, I'll whiss, but I'll not miss; A thing I'll do so sly — I'll make young Jimmy start and wince, I'll hit him in the eye." And so she effervesced away, — ' Good Mrs. H., it tried her ; But to all scenes there comes an end, So spent was poor old cider. She's vanquished now, she's still and low, As any mute creation ; Dead are the powers with which she meant To agitate the nation. Her boasted might was only gas, All strength is now denied her; I think they'll guard against the pranks Of old rebellious cider. 178 A CLUSTER OF ROSES. WASHINGTON. [In Irving's " Life of Washington " occur the words, " a ray of light was shining." This passage suggested the thoughts that follow.] Hope faded, and the zealous glow Of country's love seemed burning low; And hostile armies, fierce and strong, Swept the dark wilderness along — One ray of light shone dimly on The gloomy path of Washington. It nerved his soul with vigor new, Hope danced athwart his darkened view; The God of battles heard his prayer. Glad victory crowned the Delaware. What glorious deeds of valor bright Sprung from a single ray of light ! He labored on still undismayed With trusting heart, while overhead, Through clouds of battle rolling dark, He still beheld that sacred spark; It lured him on, till splendor shone * On the bright path of Washington." Exulting nations hailed its birth, A new republic sprung to earth; ^ The tree of liberty rose high — Its banner floated through the sky ; A CLUSTER OF ROSE;^,' 181 ON THE BAPTISM OF AN INFANT. Made in the likeness of the living God, Heir of the glory that can never die, Oh! may he walk life's rough and dangerous road Like one who journeys to a rest on high. As holy prayer ascends for him to-day, So may thy prayers his consolation be ; As mystic drops now on his young brow fall, So may his life be one of purity. The sacred cross is on his forehead made; Now he must battle for his risen Lord, Stand in the ranks, fearless and undismayed, Armed with the power of his eternal word. It must be sweet to fit on earth for heaven The soul made precious by its Saviour's death; To give to God the life he the^e has given. Ransomed, immortal, through the might of faith. God bless thee in thy work of mother-love, Strengthen thy hands, sustain thy fainting heart; When this dear babe has come to man's estate, Mayst thou behold him choose life's better part. Then canst thou say wit^ Simeon of old, "In heavenly peace I to my Lord can go, Can leave my darling nestled 'neath his wing; It is enough— I ask no more to know." 1§^ A CLUSTER OF Rofefeh. Ask needed grace in humble, earnest prayet, Then shalt thou reap the fruits of endless joy; Angels will watch around his secret ways, And thou may'st lead to Heaven and Christ thy boy. FRIENDSHIP'S WELCOME TO MR. AND MRS. SMYTHE, AND FAMILY, AFTER AN ABSENCE OF EIGHTEEN MONTHS. Bright as the tints of the roseate morn. Sweet as the dews by the flowerets borne, Rich as the melody woodlarks bring When they welcome the first warm blush of spring. Are the feelings that move our hearts the while. That kindle the warmth of affection's smile, As we joyfully welcome from ocean's breast The friends in whose bosom 'tis sweet to rest. As they gazed on the beautiful works of art, A whisper of home thrilled every heart; As they climbed the Alpine heights sublime, They heard the sweet music of early time; As they marked the ruin of empire's might, They thought of the banner all glorious and bright, Now kissed by the breeze of Columbia's shore. And longed for their star-lighted home once more. Our thoughts flew far o'er the mighty deep, And blended with theirs in their dreams of sleep; A CLUSTER OF ROSES. 183 We remembered the kindness that made life bright, And asked our Father to give them light — The light of hope and the light of joy — The light of love that no time can cloy — The light that beams from the world on high, And hallows the hours as they pass by. Oh! God may have heard these prayers of ours: They've gathered the sweetest of earth's fair flowers; He has brought them back to their kindred dear, To the land of their birth, to the home of their prayer, — And heart-smiles are wreathing our brows, as we come To bid them thrice welcome to friends and home. Of the incense of love that perfumes their way, Is the welcome born that we bring to-day. THE FLOWERS OF HOPE. Hope's winning, soul-entrancing flowers. Perfumed with breath of Heaven's own bowers, She wreathes around thy heart, to tell That she will guard thy young life well From every noxious blast of woe; And through the clouds, and through the snow, That shroud life's boisterous waters dark. Will safely guide thy fragile bark. The waves shall sparkle in thy sight, Like diamonds glittering in the light; 184 A CLUSTER OF ROSES. And all along the shore shall be Sweet flowers that ope their charms for thee. Perennial hues of bliss divine, Perpetual, o'er thy path shall shine; Sweet Hope these fairy gifts will bring, And balm-drops on thy pillow fling. Ecstatic thrills of joy most sweet Thy heart at morn and eve shall greet, And come to make their dwelling there, And deck thy soul with flowers most rare; And perfumed by their sacred breath, Thy soul shall triumph e'en in death. These flowerets bloom immortally, The amaranths of eternity. A NATION'S PRAYER. To the Majesty on high, Ruling ocean, earth, and sky, Lo! the nation lifts its eye — God, we trust in thee! Thou art Judge Supreme alone, Justice gems thy glorious throne ; Make Columbia's cause thine own — God, we trust in thee I Oh! let sacred peace once more. Beam on North and Southern shore, As in blessed days of yore — God, we trust in thee! A CLUSTER OF ROSES. 185 Thou from discord peace canst bring, And our hearts' deep sorrowing Change to joy's exultant spring; God, we trust in thee! When sweet freedom's banner bright Floats in morning's dappled light O'er the starry eyes of night, Then our song shall be — Glory to the King above, Who in mercy's changeless love Bade our land his wisdom prove! God, all praise to thee! TO THE MEMORY OF PRINCE ALBERT, WHO, IN OUR NATIONAL CRISIS, PUT FORTH THE HAND OF FRATERNAL LOVE, AND AVERTED THE NECESSITY OF CONFLICT WITH OUR MOTHERLAND. "BLESSED ARE THE PEACEMAKERS, FOR THEY SHALL BE CALLED THE CHILDREN OF GOD." In the dark time when tears were raining Down furrowed cheek, from youth's soft eye, — When mother's love poured sad complaining O'er her fair boy, too young to die, — When widows lost their staff, their all. When Hope was wrapped in night's black pall, — Thy words were freighted with a blessing. For they were God's and born of Heaven; The cloud our nation's heart oppressing Was lifted, and the light was given. 186 A CLUSTER OF ROSES. Can we forget thee in the hour Of strength increased, of mightier power ? No! whh the great and good we treasure, , Embalmed shall be thy memory; Our souls will glow with livelier pleasure, Kindled by loving thoughts of thee; Columbia's children from afar Will link thy name with freedom's star. When Commerce, over ocean sailing, Sees thrift and honors multiply. And earth's great nations join in hailing Our flag that proudly floats on high ; When joy, prosperity, and peace, In every clime and land increase ; — ' Then will thy name be wreathed with flowers- The flowers of faith, and hope, and love — To hallow grateful memory's hours. And lift the soul to Heaven above. The Saviour's amaranths on high. Are these sweet flowers that never die. TO MRS. WILLIAM LEE, AFTER AN ABSENCE OF MANY MONTHS. Welcome, dear one, from a foreign shore. To husband, children, and home, once more! Welcome to hearts that have pined for thee. To joy that waits where thy steps will be! A CLUSTER OF ROSES. 187 And welcome, oh! welcome again to hear Thy soul's sweet music, my mother dear; 'Tis a solace sweet for every pain To clasp thine own to thy heart again. The richest boon by our Father given Is a happy home — 'tis a taste of Heaven: That coveted bliss is thine to-day — Welcome to Home, where thy love holds sway. And oh! may thy life unshadowed be, Bright as the sunbeam that gilds the sea! As thy voice and kindness to me were sweet, So may the angels thy coming greet. When thy soul shall sigh for its purer home, When life's march is over, thy dear lips dumb. As thou wast a sunbeam on earth to me, So Christ to his glory will welcome thee. EASTER FLOWERS. Beautiful flowers, ye've come Like heavenly voices sweet, Like seraphs from the Saviour's throne, My lonely heart to greet. Ye whisper of that home Whose day knows never night. Where fadeless flowers in beauty bloom, And skies are ever bright, 138 A CLUSTER OF ROSES. Ye woo my soul to prayer With -fragrant breath of love, And teach me, while I linger here, My father's will to prove. God bless thee for these flowers! Mayst thou remembered be. When Christ shall gather in his own Where gleams the jasper sea. A CLUSTER OF ROSES. 191 Had entered his soul and his purpose changed. No more from the poor was his soul estranged ; His children he led to their humble cot, And taught them to gladden the lowly lot; ' Led them by noble example to be Like Jesus, who wept at Gethsemane. The buckler and sword, that hung in the hall, The cuirass and spear that gleamed on the wall, Were displaced, and pictures of Jesus' death. Of his life of love, of his works of faith, Serenely looked down on the lifted eye. And spoke of Jehovah who reigned on high. Through the tapestried rooms and galleries dim. At eventide floated the Christian's hymn; The chapel was opened, all gathered there To join with the master in praise and prayer; The old Romish rites and symbols were gone — No priest at the altar, but Christ alone. In this grand castle by the Clyde, Whose vast domains stretched far and wide. This man of God, this chieftain's heir, Dwelt with his wife and daughters fair — Maggie and Annie, who each day Scattered rich blessings in their way. With flaxen curls and eyes of blue, Maggie was graceful, fond, and true ; 192 A CLUSTER OF ROSES. Her presence, like some radiant star, Diffused a steady light afar. And brightened all things where she came, Till like sweet music was her name. Annie had hazel eyes, whose glance, If lighted up with joy perchance. Threw a sweet witchery of grace Into her young and beaming face; Her ringlets were of darkest brown, Waving from head and shoulders down. When winter's bright transparent vail Dissolved, and spring's more genial gale Swept through the mountains and the hills. O'er meadows green and gurgling rills, And birds were chirping to the breeze That softly murmured in the trees, — Annie and Maggie, hand in hand, While flowers were dotting all the land. And the soft gush of woodland song Floated through forest depths along. Went forth, for oh! they loved to rove Through the sweet paths of Elfin Grove. " Maggie," said Annie, " should I die Before the rest, to Heaven I'll fly On angel wings. Then, sister dear,i Among the flowers oh! lay me here; The birds will sing, and you will come, But I shall be with God at home." A CLUSTER OF ROSES. 18 > FOUNDED ON FACT. In times remote, in that picturesque land Where Wallace the brave led a warrior band, And the gallant Bruce fell at Bannockburn, Inscribing forever on memory's urn The laurels of glory that wreath his name, And left to fair Scotland undying fame; In those mountains drear where the torrents fall, And echoes reply to the shepherd's call, Where children look down on the crystal loch. Or play with the lambs of their fathers' flock ; In that land renowned for its lays and tales, The Bible is honored and truth prevails. In years gone by, this most beautiful land Was desolate made by a ruthless band. Who murdered the old, the young, and the fair, For their hearts were hardened to beauty's prayer; And children turned pale in their merrj' play, When they saw the robbers pass by that way. On the mountain's crest, in the flowery vale, By the murmuring rill in the verdant dale, 190 A CLUSTER OF ROSES. The loftiest castle with mote and tower Must yield its wealth to the ruffian's power; And hearts stood silent and trembled with fear, While panic and terror reigned everywhere. The mansions and castles deserted were; Men gathered in cities, for only there Could the loved ones that circled about them rest — Could the babe repose on its mother's breast, And quietly sleep through the dark night still. Secure from the fear of approaching ill. On the pleasant Clyde, whose waters so long Have been the theme of the poet's song; Where the primrose and hawthorn bloom in spring; Where black-bird and robin responsive sing. And the heather-clad hills stretch far away. Just touched by the light of advancing day; All stately and tall rose a castle bright, Its battlements bathed in the early light. And here long ago did a warrior stand. His battle-axe grasped with sinewy hand. While his keen eye watched for the coming foe. Like shadows gliding through forests below. But the helmeted chief had passed away; The proudest, the noblest, must turn to clay: The heir of his prowess, wealth, and pride. Had given himself to the Crucified. The glitter of heraldry tempted his sight; He heeded it not, for a purer light A CLUSTER OF ROSES. 195 " I pray in faith it may not be ! God will not take my child from me, But in his pitying mercy spare My darling to her mother's prayer." '' O mother, mother, do not cry! It is not death for me to die. Angels are bending over me, And whispering I shall Jesus see. Mother, I cannot longer stay; My Saviour calls — I must obey," Soft as the latest sigh of even, Her spirit faded into Heaven; But left a perfume where she trod, A halo, for she pleased her God: In humble faith, so good and mild. She followed Christ — a little child. Among the flowers in Elfin Grove They laid the darling of their love. The birds sang blithely overhead, But they were weeping round the dead; Not in despair, as those who had No hope, no balm in Gilead. Oft Maggie read her Bible there, And breathed to God her evening prayer; She loved the fragrant flowers whose bloom Was scattered round her sister's tomb. And watched them tenderly each day, Till rough winds blew their leaves away. 196 A CLUSTER OF ROSES. Years rolled away: love's tears were vain, For earth returned to earth again. Maggie was motherless, and left Of every earthly care bereft; Yet not alone — the wings of God Outspread where'er the orphan trod. Through infancy, through childhood, youth, And womanhood, celestial truth Developed in her soul, and shone With holy radiance not its own; The Spirit came from God above, And Jesus sealed her with his love. When outrage, violence, and wrong Swept, like a maelstrom fierce and strong, Through Scotia's land, and stout hearts quailed. And e'en the cheek of manhood paled; When all were warned without delay To flee to some safe place away; Bible in hand, to Elfin Grove, Where slept the sister of her love, Maggie went down, and wept, and prayed, O'er the green grave where she was laid: *' Ah ! friends and servants, blame me not — I cannot leave this hallowed spot! " In the dark night, unseen, alone. While fitfully the wild winds moan, A CLUSTER OF ROSES. 193 Her arms around her Maggie threw, And closer to her sister drew: She kissed her, crying bitterly, " Dear Annie, do not go from me ! For oh ! I could not come alone, To Elfin Grove, if you were gone. " I could not read, I could not play, Dear Annie, if you went away; And mother's heart would overflow With the great burden of her woe ; The house would be so drear and lone. So desolate, if you were gone ! " " But listen, sister; when I stand Among the angels, in that land Where Jesus reigns, and father's eye Beholds his daughter safe on high, I'll tell the Saviour how you grieve. And beg him give an angel leave " To come, on wings of glorious light, Down to this world, and cheer your sight. And tell what lovely flowers are given To children, when they go to Heaven, And how we touch our harps, and sing Glory to God, our Saviour king." Before the beauteous Summer passed, — Before chill Autumn's withering blast Swept moaning down the mountain-side, — Before the last sweet rose had died, — 194 A CLUSTER OF ROSES- While blue-bells nodded to the breeze, And birds were singing in the trees, — Angels looked down where Annie played With Maggie 'neath the willow's shade. And whispered lovingly and low, " Child, Jesus calls thee, wilt thou go. Be folded on his breast to lie. The heir of glory in the sky ? " Her hazel eyes, so mild and meek, Were filled with joy, and on her cheek Dawned a soft smile ; it seemed to say, " Yes, angels, I will go away. I love my mother, Maggie dear, — Yet oh! I would not linger here." One morn, when glorious in his might The sun reflected golden light O'er mountain, valley, island, sea. And nature poured harmoniously A thrilling song of grateful praise To the eternal Source of days, — Maggie, with heavy heart and brain, Was watching by a bed of pain; For prostrate there, with failing breath. Sweet Annie languished unto death. How bright without, that glorious day ! How dark within, the shadows lay ! Her weeping mother bowed her head, And softly to her daughter said, A CLUSTER OF ROSES. 197 I hither come, to know the will Of God, who Ipves and leads me still. And yet I'd leave my Annie's grave Rather than tempt his power to save. " Close with life's fibres interwove Is the deep love of Elfin Grove. For Annie's sake, faith's blessed ray Illumes my soul, doubt dies away ; Though dead to all the world but me, Annie, I will not go from thee ! " The aged servants of the hall Assembled at their lady's call. The book was opened, and they heard A word of comfort from the Lord : " I will not leave you comfortless. In the dark hour of your distress. " Only remember — watch and pray, And cast your burdens every day On Me ; I know your utmost need, And will your faltering footsteps lead. Through hidden dangers, worldly snares, Suffering and death, to endless years." Devoutly kneeled they all in prayer. Implored their father's watchful care, To shield them from the ruffian's power, To be their hope, their strength, their tower; To give them grace his will to prove By patient trust and ardent love. 198 A CLUSTER OF ROSES. Dread silence reigned. Her eyes of blue Were moistened by the heart's warm dew, As with sad look fair Maggie said: " My faithful servants, I have prayed My Heavenly Father's will to know — Whether 'tis best to stay or go. " Here from my childhood's earliest day I've loved — I've wept; I'm growing gray. My treasured ones are sleeping here, And memory holds this place most dear ; Oh! something whispers I must stay, I cannot tear myself away! " But life is precious; why should ye Hazard the gift of God for me? No, faithful servants, true and good, I would not keep you if I could. Go — in the city walls abide; I will as now your food provide." Weeping, they fondly gathered near: " Dear lady, send us not from here. We saw our pious master die. Your mother follow to the sky. And gentle Annie pass away; O lady, lady, let us stay ! " The day was done; only the light Of the pale moon rose on the night, A CLUSTER OF ROSES. 199 And shimmered o'er the restless wave, Then stooped to kiss sweet Annie's grave; Maggie, her daily duties done. Sat reading pensively alone. Under the bed she saw a glare. Like a wild tiger's from his lair, Watching her candle's flickering light; Her heart's blood curdled at the sight; She durst not move, she durst not cry. Or servant call — that were to die. She closer drew the stand, where lay Her holy Bible; (day by day Had she recourse to its sweet voice. To strengthen faith and hope rejoice); Then read aloud the sacred page. Replete with life for every age. How in the plenitude of love, Down from his radiant throne above, The only Son of God To fallen man in pity came. And humbly bore a lowly name. Endured the smiter's rod. How lamblike and how patiently He bowed in lone Gethsemane, Hung on the cross and died ; How radiantly redemption's light Shines on a world where all was night, Through Christ the Crucified. 200 A CLUSTER OF ROSES. And in a solemn earnest prayer, To him whose kind benignant ear Hears every mortal plaint, She begged for strength, for trusting faith. For grace to suffer life or death. To pray and not to faint. " Father," she said, " this wandering band That plunders, desolates the land. Let them their error see. Forgive and bless them, gracious Lord ! To them thy mercy sweet accord, And lead them unto thee. " Oh ! send salvation's light abroad On every soul that knows not God, Wandering in sin's dark ways; Let crime and plunder, murder, cease. Till all mankind abide in peace, And prayers be changed to praise!" She ceased, and trustful as a child Lay down; and lo! the angels smiled. And bore in triumph through the air A heaven-sent answer to her prayer. The faith reflected from her soul Held the bold robber in control. And thus he spoke : " Dismiss thy fear, I will not harm a single hair. I came to plunder, kill perchance; Oh! hadst thou feared my stealthy glance, A CLUSTER OF ROSES. 201 Hadst called for aid, or oped the door, Thy heart had never fluttered more. " Thou didst not ask that vengeful ire Of God would burn us with its fire; Nor that the civil arm might rend From us all power, and none befriend; That justice would refuse to spare The ruffian who was deaf to prayer." " But thou didst pray so earnestly That God would bring us all to see How we are wandering from him now, — Bring us before his throne to bow. And taste the wealth of pardoning love, Redeeming grace and comfort prove." "These are the precepts Jesus taught; I do but practice what I ought. For all men sin and go astray. And need repentance every day ; We merit God's avenging rod, But mercy find through Jesus' blood." " In all my wanderings far and near 'Twas not my happy lot to hear This holy book. Lady, through thee First came these blessed words to me." He kissed her hand: " Thy prayer of faith Will lead me in another path." " The glory," she replied, " is due To God — he only can renew 202 A CLUSTER OP ROSES. The heart deep dyed in passion's strife, And fit thee for a holier life. Ask pardon; grace and love are given, For art thou not the heir of Heaven ? " He softly blew ; a silvery sound Floated to all the heights around, And quickly from the sheltered wood His banded men before him stood. " Airs well," he cried, " for treasure bright Ye dreamed not of, is mine to-night." They thought of gems and stores of gold Their greedy eyes would soon behold; But calling them, their leader strode His flying steed, and onward rode. Years passed, and God vouchsafed again His Holy Spirit unto men. Quickening hearts to sin a prey. And calling them from guilt away. Teaching the reckless lip to raise Ecstatic notes of grateful praise. 'Mong others, Maggie rose to tell How God protects and guards so well Those he has chosen for his own, Who walk by living faith alone; Who know not doubt, dismay, or fear, But like young children trust his care. A cLilstEk oP Ros£§. 203 How through the prayer of earnest faith The hand was stayed that threatened death ; How clouds of darkness rolled away, The son of crime beheld the day; The robber's soul was taught to see That Jesus died for such as he. She ceased, and one of noble mien Said, " I was actor in that scene ! I am that man — my sinful heart Has found, through ('hrist, the better part; That prayer was as a torchlight given, To show my soul the way to Heaven. *' Those men of crime, of sin and shame, I've taught to hope in Jesus' name; The wronged, the lonely, and oppressed, I've pointed to a holier rest." His gray locks trembled in the air, His eyes were closed in silent prayer. The mountain robber, fierce and wild, By grace made humble as a child, Rejoicing, penitent, and meek, While grateful tears rolled down his cheek. Saluted her whose words of love First taught his lips in prayer to move. O Faith, if we but knew thy power, We would not languish in the hour When all is wrapped in deepest gloom. When hope lies buried in the tomb; ^04 A CLUSTER OF ROSES. We would not yield to dark despair, But live by thee and trust in prayer. If wronged or suffering, poor, unknown, Thou tread 'st with bleeding feet alone Life's rugged way — when shines no star, No faint light gleaming from afar, — If faith within thy soul be born, 'Twill brighten as the glorious morn. For faith forbids all fear, all dread. All anxious thought for daily bread; And knows the everlasting arm Will shield from dire distress and harm. And lead us in the path he trod — The dying Lamb — the son of God. A CLUSTER Ol-' k(>SES. 205 MY SONGSTER. One day, while trying to concentrate my thoughts on an inter- esting subject, the singing of my little bird, of which I am very fond, won my attention, and prompted the following lines: — Thou call'st me from ambition's dream, From thoughts that wear the taint of earth, From fancy's bright and airy beam, To hear thy song of artless mirth. Thy song of mirth, O joyous bird, Breaks with Aurora's gushing light. Is with the sigh of evening heard. When veils the sun his radiance bright. I sometimes deem that thou hast flown With birds in amaranthine bowers. And caught their melody of tone To cheer this lonely world of ours. Love dwells for thee in every flower, In fertile vale and gurgling rill; On zephyr's breath, in sorrow's hour, It sheds a perfume round thee still. Then call me from ambition's dream, From thoughts that wear the taint of earth, From fancy's bright and airy beam — I love thy song of artless mirth. 9 $C6 A CLUSTER OP ROSfeS. THE ANGELS' GIFT. When beauteous earth from chaos sprung, And day's all-glorious lamp was hung, Man, in the likeness of his God, The new-made earth with gladness trod. Angels, adoring, fold their wings, And ask the eternal King of kings, "What boon most dear to us in Heaven May to the new-born race be given ? " Harmonious through the angelic throng An anthem rose — echoed the song Unnumbered worlds; and flower-decked earth. And mighty ocean, hailed its birth. Rapturous they said : " Music is given To win the sons of men to Heaven, To cheer the desolate when drear, And steal from grief its burning tear. "The patriot's love of country strong Will kindle with his native song; Virtue, religion, shed afar Their influence 'neath sweet music's star. " Emotions soft and pure shall rise. Like holiest incense, to the skies; Sweet thoughts around the wanderer come, If music cheered his boyhood's home. A CLUSTER OF RoSES. 207 • " At eve, when day's receding light Melts in the depths of gentler night, Then music to the realms above Shall waft the strains of grateful love." Angels, for this, your glorious boon. Our hearts Jehovah's praises tune; For music to the blind is lights Their beauty's hue, and lustre of their night. EVENING THOUGHTS. I ask not the wreath that decketh the brow Of the son of martial fame; 'Tis darkly dyed with the widow's woe. And the orphan's tear is the radiant glow Of the laurels that grace his name. But I ask a spirit humbly meek. The contrite sigh and the tear-wet cheek. Too deeply fraught is ambition's dream With the heart's unrest and the tearful eye; The glittering baubles that erst would seem Life's rarest gems, but a moment gleam, And as passing vapor die. I ask — to brighten my lowly lot — All-glorious faith, for it fadeth not. I ask not the magic of wealth, to knit My earth-born soul more closely here; 208 A CLUSTER OF ROSES. Each pleasure lost, as it lingers yet On the heart's sad string, is a sigh of regret, That leaveth it darkly drear. My soul, attuned to Thy praise alone. Shall come with the morn and the night's low moan. I am lingering here, but a beam of light Is luring me hence. I go to my home. To bask in the radiance of glory bright. No more, unheeded, the child of night Through forest and wild shall roam. I am going home to yon dear abode; I am going home to my Father — God. WOOED AND WON. WOOED. I come wdth the moonlight, my own love, to thee. To bask with the stars in the glance of thine eye. I've longed for the close of this beautiful day. Though the sweet birds were singing their soft rounde- Fly not, like the fawn, from thy lover afar, [lay. Thou day-dream of beauty, thou ever-bright star. Turn not from thy suppliant; O dearest, be mine; I ask, I implore, on the banks of the Rhine. WON. I've won the sweet blossom that bloomed in the vale. And the voices of music float by on the gale. A CLUSTER OF ROSES. 209 With rapture unbounded my heart is elate, And I ask not of fortune a happier fate. OJi exquisite transport! oh blissful delight! The clouds of suspense have rolled by in a night; And with purest effulgence for ever will shine The jewel I've won on the banks of the Rhine. HOPE I've floated o'er earth on a beam of light, As the fire-fly shines in the darkest night; I've kissed the flowers bespangled with dew, Then soared aloft to my home of blue. On a golden beam, through a fairy bower, I have sought in vain for a fadeless flower; Its hue musf be bright as a seraph's wings, When he basks in the smile of the King of kings; Its fragrance pure as the light above That beams from the brow of the God of love. I sought on that lovely sea-girt shore. Where science and wisdom were blent of yore, Where, sportive as birds in their leafy bowers, Young children were twining the earliest flowers; Yet their sires were groaning with anguish keen. On each manly cheek was the tear-drop seen, And lone by that shore, where the Grecian wave Was dashing its spray, stood a chieftain brave. His people were slaves, and their galling chain Was rending his soul. Shall it suffer in vain? 210 A CLUSTER OF ROSES. I sought to solace his anguish deep, And encourage his heart that he should not weep; And he said, as I whispered: "My arm is strong: Unconscious of might, I have wept too long; My land shall be free as the mountain air, And the tyrant be crushed in his hideous lair." But his generous soul with revenge grew dark. And I wept, though I quenched not its kindling spark. Where the happy were wrapped in their visions of love. And the sky-lamps were gemming the azure above. On the downy breath of the sportive breeze That murmured all night 'mid the leaf-clad trees, I was gently borne to a chamber lone. Where the midnight lamp o'er a scholar shone. The oifspring of genius, whose every thought With fancy and feeling was richly fraught. But a dream of ambition was lurking there, And I turned with a sigh to a scene more fair. Where the perfume sweet o'er my senses stole: 'Twas the balm of peace to the anguished soul; It breathed from a flower, a lovely thing That bloomed in the heart's most sacred spring. Then the trophy-clad seraphs around me came; Their harps of glory were sounding its name: 'Twas blessed Beneficence, spotless and mild. And I hailed it immortal with joys undefiled. In an amaranth wreath for the brow of the kind, It is twined by the orphan, the mute, and the blind; And it blooms ever fair as the star of even. Though drooping and sad with the tear-drops of heaven. f^lgs A CLUSTER OF ROSES. 211 SONG OF THE "NEW YEAR." From the ice-bound realms of the North afar, To cheer the earth as a meteor star, I come, for pleasure awaits me here. And they welcome with music the glad New Year. To scatter the roseate beams of joy, And young hopes pure from the dark alloy Of sorrow deep and the burning tear: Oh! they shall not sadden the bright New Year. But virtue puissant and truth shall shine, Ennobling the soul with their breath divine; The diamond of faith and the dew-drops of prayer Shall hallow my footsteps — the bright New Year. On the radiant pinions of light above, I've soared for the balm of unfeigned love; The holy have sanctioned my mission rare, And angels are blessing the bright New Year. They shall not weep as before they've wept. Where the star-lighted visions of hope had slept. And the heart, bowed down in its mute despair, Sighed, mournfully sighed, to the closing year; Though the earth may be clad in its robe of white. And the once green trees be muffled and dight In snow-wreaths and ice, while the vp'ind's low moan Is singing the dirge of the Old Year gone, 212 A CLUSTER OF ROSES. I've slept in the breast of an amaranth flower, In the crystal drop of an April shower; From a moon-lit beam, in a star-gemmed sky, Fve looked on the earth as I floated by. The fragrant blossoms of love must be On the leafy boughs of a fadeless tree; I come to scatter these blossoms fair, While kindness illumines the bright New Year. I've sung to the morn with the dappled light. And the beauteous tints of the rainbow bright, To unnumbered worlds in their high career, Through regions of space — sung the bright New Year. Now, singing, I come to the children of earth, And with rapture they echo my carol of mirth; And the mourner's sigh and the orphan's tear Shall cease with the dawn of the bright New Year. THE INDIAN WIDOW'S DREAM. [A lady one da3\ when walking down to the river, saw an Indian woman weaving moccasins, wlio told her she had dreamed, the night previous, that her husband (who had lately died) was cold and hungry in the hunting-grounds; and she was loading a light raft with food and clothing to send up the river to the Spirit Land, doubting not that it would reach its destination in safety.] I dreamed of my warrior. He stood alone By the ice-bound streams where the deer roams wild; The rushing winds,, with hollow moan. Were rocking the trees like a little child. A CLUSTER OF ROSE?. Jil3 He wandered on through that forest dim, He was cold and sad, and his heart was sore ; No wigwam fire burned bright for him. No evening meal when the hunt was o'er. The birds sang not in that far-off land, Nor came young Spring with her early flowers; By hunger was weakened that powerful hand Whose stroke was death in this land of ours. His eye was dark, but the lightning's fire Would kindle there when the war-cry came; And the sons of the forest, with looks of ire, Would gather as one at Mehopac's name. From valley green and rock-bound hill. From mountains high, where the antelopes rest, And the screaming eagle foreboded ill, As she folded her wings round her young ones' nest. But his voice was low as the curling wave That laves the shore where my baby sleeps: A lover fond and a warrior brave Is my hunter dear; but — he weeps! he weeps! For the snow is cold and his feet are bare. And he dreams of me and his darling boy. If the Great Spirit answers the mourner's prayer, His heart shall be thrilling with only joy. With arrowy speed o'er the waters dark. With early fruits and the dew-gemmed flowers. And its burden of love, flew that little bark. With tears impearled, from her greenwood bowers. 214 A CLUSTER OF ROSES. WHY I DO NOT DRINK. [Written by request, in answer to a piece of an opposite character which appeared in a city journal.] I drink not — for the soul of man. In God's own image made, . Should shun the withering glance of shame, And triumph undismayed: For oh! it is a godlike grace, Integrity of soul; It cheers us with a brighter charm ■ Than gilds the flowing bowl. I drink not — for the dovelike tones Of children greet mine ears; I think on vows of nuptial love. Baptized in hallowed tears. The golden threads by angels woven, That hearts together link. Are sundered by the touch of sin — That's why I will not drink. I drink not — though life's devious paths Be oft perplexed and dark, And shoals of care and reefs of wrong Wreck many a fragile bark. Watching the polar star of hope, My life's sure compass mine. Fearless I breast the howling storm. But shun the tempting wine. A CLUSTER OF ROSES. 215 I drink not — though a woman's scorn Should fling its keenest dart, Or quench the hopes of loving years, And desolate my heart, Friends cease to smile, and all the wells Of sympathy dry up. Though ne'er a star should light my way, Yet taste I not the cup. I drink not — in the soul of man Blooms many a precious flower. And languid misery longs to breathe Their fragrance and their power. The deeds within his virtue's scope Inspire my soul to think That soul's an embryon for Heaven — And so I will not drink. THE PATRIARCH'S LAST HOURS. "And he worshipped, leaning upon the top of his staff." — Hebrews, xi. 21 The sun, resplendent, o'er the eastern sky Diffused the brilliance of his morning smile; The bald, black mountains in that smile rejoiced. With sweetest flowers that bloomed around their base. And nature from her dormant state awoke. Reanimate with strength and vigor new. Men rose, the paths of honest toil to tread. Or love omniscient and supreme survey In every charm that decked the orient vale. 216 A CLUSTER OF ROSES. Tears, from the hidden fountains of the soul — Earth's bitterest tears — were falling silently, As, with bowed heads and reverential air, The patriarchs fondly gathered round the bed That held the form of Israel, their sire. And childhood, with its artless smile of glee And loving heart and bird-like voice, was there. And wistful gazed up to a father's face. And read — enigma strange! — dire sorrow's lines. Wooed by the breeze of love, the young ones laughed, Nor knew that tears were sorrow's tracery. So the gazelle, 'mid far Judea's hills, In flowery haunts by fond affection kept, Frolics unconscious of a world of grief. The sun of Goshen glowed o'er tent and field, And, dazzling, seemed to mock the patriarchs' woe. Yet, ah! when anguish racks the human soul. And jars the strings affection's hand hath tuned, Till discord harsh grates on the weary sense, The heart heeds not the thrilling tones of joy. The smile of peace, or voice of gladdening hope. Now Israel's eye with lengthening days was dim; For threescore years and ten, with restless step, The earth he trod, felt mingled joy and grief. His dim eye kindled with prophetic fire. As, leaning on his staff, he worshipped God. The hidden glories of the latter day Shone through the vista of unnumbered years. And the Redeemer's everlasting arms Sustained his soul. He saw Immanuel's birth. A CLUSTER OF ROSES. 217 The wand of peace his guardian angel waved, And Jacob's spirit with his fathers slept. The sunset ray waned on the mountain top, Kissed the still wave, and faded in the West. DO YOU .REMEMBER.? Alice, do you remember How bright life's morning seemed. When, through the glass of fancy, The light of pleasure beamed.? How, like a transient meteor, Those happy moments passed — The golden hours of childhood. That could not, would not last.? Alice, do you remember Our Sabbath-school so dear.? The precepts, fraught with mercy. That won each listening ear.? How, in God's temple kneeling, With contrite hearts, we said The sacred prayers together — The sacred lessons read ? Alice, do you remember The parting tears that wet Cheeks of the loved, who fain Would linger with us yet .? 218 A CLUSTER OF ROSES. Now, each through life so lonely- Must take her separate way, And grief or joy alternate Will lend its shade or ray. The path we've trod is rugged; For grief's most poignant dart Hath pierced, with shaft unerring, Each young and trusting heart; Yet let us bear it meekly, Our lot of suffering here. Till faith's celestial morrow Shall dry the mourner's tear. REST ON THE ROCK. I dreamed; and my mother stood by me. I was weeping; she said: "Cynthia! do not weep. Rest on the Rock. Christ is the Rock! Rest thou on Him." 'T is midnight. Now, in slumber lost, They dream the passing hours away; I only wake, and memory's lamp Lights up her pure and hallowed ray That burned in days of innocence, Made holy by a mother's prayer; ^ Days sacred to affection's birth, For oh ! a mother's smile was there. A CLUSTER OF ROSES.. ' 219 But she has gone, and since that time How many clouds have frowned above The skies, so tranquil and serene When guarded by maternal love ! One night — oh, 'twas a pleasing dream! — I looked upon my mother dear; The melody of that sweet voice Fell, as of old, upon mine ear. "Weep not, my child, though thou art left Alone, life's thorny way to tread; Rest on the Rock! and Christ shall be A pillow to thy sinking head. " Rest on the Rock! Christ is the Rock Of Ages; be thy refuge there!" Then to the realms of light she flew, And left upon my cheek a tear. " Rest on the Rock!" Those precious words The safeguard of my life shall be: Let me not fall, when lured to sin — Oh! aid me, Christ, to rest on thee' 220 A CLUSTER OF ROSES. NO MORE—NO MORE! Tranquil and holy was the Sabbath eve. The dying rays of crimson light had flung Their parting greeting to the summer flowers, Then veiled their beauty in the shades of heaven. Oh! 't was an hour for contemplation high, When the rapt soul on holy things might feast, And hold communion with the Great Supreme. On the soft breeze that stirred each leafy spray, Like angel music, came the voice of prayer; For God's own people in the temple met. To pay their homage at his Son's dear feet. Angelic peace seemed brooding o'er the scene, Stamping her impress on each living thing. How suddenly is beauty changed to grief! The azure sky with lurid flames grew bright. And hurried steps and words of anxious dread Broke on the ear like echo's mournful tones. The flames rolled high, the crackling timbers fell; Dome, roof, and wall in burning ruin sank, And that fair house shall glad the eye no more. • There found the heart by sorrowing sin oppressed All-glorious faith to dissipate its gloom; The white-haired man, the widow desolate. And young hearts glowing with the light of hope. All knelt to bless a common Saviour there. The dear old bell, whose well-known voice was heard At life's bright dawning and its sunset hour, A CLUSTER OF ROSES. 221 With one vibration, long and loud, last fell. How seemed that thrilling tone to say, Farewell ! I shall ring no more on your festive day, When merry and blithe your children play, When joy lights up in the matron's eye. And the shadows of pleasure are flitting by. My story is told, and my time is o'er. Ye shall hear my voice no more — no more! With tear-dimmed eyes, and hearts bowed down in grief, They heard the last sad sound — No more — No more! THE KEY OF CONTENT. The sun rose up resplendently bright. And pencilled the ocean and earth with light; The rivulets laughed in the glance of day, And the birds were singing from spray to spray. The fields were yellow with ripening grain. And the voice of the reaper was heard again; Joy ruled the blithe morning, with beauties besprent. And I asked why a daughter of earth should lament. Then came the answering voice of the flowers: "Anon will she weep in this world of ours; She will weep, for the golden hues of bliss Melt away like the dew on the sunbeam's kiss." " Mid your flowery deeps so fragrant and blessed. Oh! may not her sorrows be soothed to rest.'*" As the flowers shook their heads, they perfumed the air, And mournfully answered, " Not here — not here." 222 A CLUSTER OF ROSES. O'er the rustic bridge of a brawling brook, That wound its way through a shady nook, And a cedar grove, I passed to find The balm of peace for the wounded mind. A mansion arose on the distant height. With its glittering dome in the sun's warm light; Its forest trees in their peaceful shade Embosomed a fountain, that warbled and played With the silken flowers. Oh! so sweetly fair Was that calm retreat from a world of care. Yet a lady stood on the portico, And mournfully gazed on the scene below; Her brow was sad, and she breathed in sighs. And tears welled up in her hazel eyes. I deemed not that death's Cimmerian gloom Had cast its shade o'er her beauty's bloom; But the tyrant with stealthy step had come, And broken her heart, and robbed her home. There lurked not the gleam of one blessed smile, To lighten her lips and her woes to beguile. Then I turned my steps to an old elm wood, By the noisy mill, where a cottage stood; There daughters of poverty held their abode. Who bade me come in and partake of their food. Though I thought ofthe mansion all mantled in gloom, I still found the cotters' a beggarly doom, A CLUSTER OF ROSES. 223 Since few of earth's blessings to them had been given; But they answered, " Our wealth is with Jesus in heaven, Where jewels are graces that garnish the blest, Afar from this world with its griefs and unrest." And the aged matron arose and took From its little stand a holy book: "Here gather," she cried, "faith, hope, and love, To fit thy soul for its home above." Each fingered page seemed a lamp of light, A beacon of hope to the child of night. Here, here let the sorrowing soul find rest, 'T is the balm of peace for the bleeding breast; Her rock of strength is the book of God, Her guiding star to his dear abode. FATHERLAND. DEDICATED TO MR. A. REIFF, MUSIC- TEACHER IN THE NEW YORK INSTITUTION FOR THE BLIND. There is a charm all holy and pure. That comes o'er my soul when, at eve's soft hour, I think of the land where in gladness I dwelt. When my spirits were buoyant in childhood's green bower. My heart-strings cling round thee, thou bright land of glee— Oh! I cannot forget thee, beloved Germany. 224 A CLUSTER OF ROSES. 'T was pleasant, when radiant with stars looked the sky, And the peasant from toil to his cottage would come, With my brother to roam o'er the mountains afar, And hear the last echo of " Home, sweet home." ' T is rapture to bless thee, thou bright land of glee — Oh ! I cannot forget thee, beloved Germany, Thou fair land of science, the poet's own theme. How oft would thy music, with charm all divine, Entrance my glad spirit with joy not its own! The strains seemed of heaven, that rolled o'er the Rhine. Thou home of sweet music — O bright land of glee ! How could I forget thee, beloved Germany.? I dwell in a land where the olive branch sheds Its unction and glory, its peace-lighted smile, And the friends of my bosom are blessing my name, And the sweet strains of music my lone hours beguile; Yet o'er my calm spirit come bright thoughts of thee — Oh ! I sigh to behold thee, beloved Germany. Perchance I may greet thee, dear land of my heart; In gladness roam over thy mountains again. And view the bright scenes by my infancy loved. And hear the sweet voice of my brother again. In the sunset of life, ere my spirit is free. My last breath shall bless thee, beloved Germany. A CLUSTER OF ROSES. 225 THE PASSOVER. Through the still air the hallelujah rose, And, like the sound of many waters sweet, On the charmed ear of the lone Christian fell. Great Judah's heart with her high theme was stirred. For holy recollections thronged the soul, And woke dead hope, and kindled zeal anew To swell the glories of the paschal day. Centuries have rolled their tide of years away, Yet to their fathers' faith the children cling. Still weeping, praying for a brighter day, When Shiloh's presence shall the earth illume, And barren deserts bloom as Sharon's vale. Do dark eyes kindle with devotion's fire, Or holy tears some aged cheek bedew. ^ I see them not, and yet I dream 't is so. Father of love, oh! hear thy people's prayer, Who in suspense untold are languishing. For these are thine. When shall the day-star rise. And Israel know e'en now Messiah reigns, And own our Christ the mighty King of kings .^ 226 A CLUSTER OF ROSES. WHEN THE CARES OF DAY ARE OVER. When the cares of day are over, And the young, contending, hover Round their reverend sire; When the latest bird of even Sings its farewell lay to heaven, Friendship tunes her lyre. From the depths of soul upspringing, Tender memory, fragrance flinging, Halcyon days brings back; Happy hours that pass too fleetly. Throng with love's own music sweetly Round life's thorny track. In the dim, dim twilight kneeling. When the tide of holy feeling Gusheth up to God, May our thoughts, like sunbeams blending, In one mutual prayer ascending. Reach his dear abode. Love hath found a fragrant blossom; May it in thy gentle bosom Ever sweetly bloom: Ivoving eyes of friendship smiling, Every earth-born care beguiling. Cheer life's passing noon. A CLUStER OP kOSES. 227 As the red light fading, fading, Leaves a holier calm pervading All the peaceful earth, So may gentle words oft spoken — Holy deeds — a blessed token Leave of priceless worth. \ THE VOICE OF FLOWERS. The voice of flowers is the voice of prayer. Soothing the soul in its time of care; The voice of flowers is the voice of love, Luring the soul to its rest above. The voice of flowers, like a glistening star. Beguiles the wandering one afar, Through regions of space to life's blessed streams. Where the Lamb's pure glory eternally gleams. The voice of flowers hath a silvery tone. Winning poor sinners to mercy's throne; And we bend the knee as the notes of praise Attune our souls to seraphic lays. The voice of flowers is the old man's friend, For it sings how the journey of life shall end; The voice of flowers to the youth can bring The sunshine of truth in his blooming spring. 228 A CLUSTER OF ROSES. The voice of flowers, in the hour of death, With faukless music and fragrant breath, A whispering angel of mercy, shall come. Wooing the soul to its holier home. WE MEET AGAIN. We meet again! Since last we met, "How many loved have passed away; How many golden suns have set. Yet left a bright and cheering ray ! We meet again! But not in tears, For friendship's pure immortal chain Hath linked the past of many years, And wreathed the flowers of joy again. We meet again! And i)leasure's light Hath wooed you, with its magic smile Of more than rainbow's beauty bright, Lulling to sleep each care the while. We meet again! Your voices dear With love's own music greet me now; Grief hath not left a darkening tear Or shadow on one youthful brow. THE END, lii '^^J^/M £.-&2^iU-^^^