I.N.CH'^^r^'fr'.r '■ 
 
 ■ REESE LIBRARY ■ 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA. 
 zAicessions No.(p / Jl ^^ . Claras No. Q ^O. \ 
 
Digitized by tine Internet Archive 
 
 in 2007 with funding from 
 
 IVIicrosoft Corporation 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/ellenseymourotheOOheatrich 
 
ELLEN SEYMOUR, 
 
 
 OTHER POEMS. 
 
 THOMAS HEATH. 
 
 [UNIVERSITY; 
 
 SAN FRANCISCO: 
 PUBLISHED BY THE AUTHOR, 
 
 AND FOR SALE BY A. ROMAN AND COMPANY, 
 
 Nos. 417 and 419 Montgomery Street. 
 1868. 
 
6f±^^ 
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1868, 
 
 By THOMAS HEATH, 
 
 In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the 
 District of California. 
 
 Bacon & Company, Printers, 
 536 Clay Street. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 Ellen Seymour 
 
 A Mother's Love 
 
 To THE Forget-me-not 
 
 Solitude 
 
 Remembrance of Thee . 
 
 Lady Celestine 58 
 
 A Legend of the Western Sea 
 An Ode: Dedicated to H. S., Esqr. 
 Among the Lilies .... 
 
 Content 
 
 The Dying Swan . . , . , 
 In Memoriam . . , . . 
 A True Heart .... 
 The Lay of a Weary Heart 
 Lines on the Death of a Lady 
 The Lost Flower .... 
 
 A Tale 
 
 Adieu 
 
 To A Loved One . . . 
 
 67 
 
 75 
 
 8s 
 
 88 
 
 90 
 
 93 
 
 96 
 
 98 
 
 102 
 
 107 
 
 109 
 
 "4 
 
 . IIS 
 
 At Parting 117 
 
 The Last Lily 
 
 Treasured Thoughts 
 
 Lays of Greece — Mytilene 
 
 " ** Paris 
 
 " •' Gr^cia 
 
 Marianne 
 
 119 
 121 
 
 126 
 132 
 
IV 
 
 The Bridal . . .135 
 
 Beatrice . 138 
 
 With Gentle Love 144 
 
 Stella Matutina . ' 146 
 
 Refugium Peccatorum 148 
 
 Mater Dolorosa 150 
 
 Lines to Tintern Abbey 164 
 
 The Golden City 172 
 
 Columbia ..." 176 
 
 EARLY POEMS. 
 
 Dedicated to H. A. J., Esqr., B. A. 183 
 
 Spring 185 
 
 Flowerets 187 
 
 Come 196 
 
 Shadows 198 
 
 The Storm 200 
 
 EccE Homo 202 
 
 Consolation 203 
 
 Religion 204 
 
 Dewdrops 205 
 
 The Morning 207 
 
 Lay to the Sea 209 
 
 The Bells 210 
 
 The Clock 212 
 
 Death 215 
 
 ERRATA. 
 
 Page 74 : For Volcan's mighty throws, read Volcan's mighty throes. 
 Page 131 : For Fawns no longer by thy waters, read Favms no longer by 
 thy waters. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 The inditing of the following lines of poetry has served 
 as an agreeable occupation for the mind during leisure 
 hours, and they are now like crumbs thrown upon the 
 waters of the ocean of literature which is constantly 
 agitated by conflicting currents, as is the bosom of the 
 unfledged author, by hope and fear ; and I trust that the 
 perusal of them may, in like manner, afford an hour's 
 agreeable relaxation to some of the many votaries of the 
 Muses. 
 
 As an author, I am a beginner, and therefore beg the 
 
 indulgence of my readers, as I lay claim to no other 
 
 merit than simplicity and the total absence of pretension 
 
 in the following poems. 
 
 T. H. 
 
 San Francisco, August, 1868. 
 
ELLEN SEYMOUR. 
 
 I. 
 
 A LITTLE village, drap'd in robes of night, 
 
 Where fragrant roses, arid fairest flowers 
 In dewy slumber 'wait the coming day 
 From out the clouds, that from chaos seem to rise, 
 And soar above the hills that bound the scene. 
 Anon, bright day dawns like a youthful bride ; 
 And feather'd warblers welcome in the sun. 
 With carols that awake the slumb'ring soul, 
 And call the lab'rer forth to till the soil. 
 White hawthorn blossom scatters perfume round, 
 And crowns the morn with fairest diadem ; 
 And delving deep to rob it of its juice. 
 The bee alights upon each honey'd flow'r 
 
ELLEN SEYMOUR. 
 
 And hums the softest strains : for loving soul 
 
 Like to ^olean chords at sunset hour. 
 
 But hark ! unto those chimes, like lyric hymn 
 
 Coming upon the fragrant summer breeze, 
 
 Admonishing of time that passes by. 
 
 And waits not, e'en to hear a blissful sigh. 
 
 A new-born hour comes in, the hour of five. 
 
 When from the mountain top the post horn sounds 
 
 A blast that's joy to some, to others grief; 
 
 And rattling wheels are heard the village thro', 
 
 As comes the morning messenger with news 
 
 To cheer, or render desolate some hearth. 
 
 In yonder copse a throstle's tuneful notes 
 
 Add charms unto the rustic village scene ; 
 
 On yonder hills the sheep and cattle graze 
 
 In quiet, save the tinkling of the bells 
 
 That from straying far keeps the flocks and herds. 
 
 A limpid brook comes babbling o'er the slope 
 
ELLEN SEYMOUR. 9 
 
 Which is spangl'd with buttercups and May-flow'rs, 
 
 And stronger grows, and swells, as on it]^flows 
 
 Adown the valley, where it turns the wheel 
 
 Of the old mill that totters now with age. 
 
 The sound is pleasant as the wheel revolves ; 
 
 And sunbeams make the falling waters shine 
 
 Like streams of pearls, rolling to eternity. 
 
 Below, a loudly roaring, boiling foam 
 
 Of whirlpools, strong and threatening in their m ien, 
 
 Until again a gently purling stream 
 
 Where rushes grow, and flags display their flow'rs. 
 
 Children hast'ning unto the village school. 
 With merry voices make the woodland ring: 
 Their rosy cheeks, arid lips of rosier red. 
 Denote the bright content of heart within. 
 O, for these happy days to come once more ; 
 How I have longed for joyous days like these : 
 
to ELLEN SEYMOUR. 
 
 The village school life, and the village play, 
 
 When all is brightness ; for the heart knows love 
 
 That's uninur'd to soft deceits and woes. 
 
 There are at times upon the page of all. 
 
 Fond moments, that return to other days ; 
 
 And then a thrill of joy at once vibrates 
 
 Thro' each drop of blood, whisp'ring peace and love. 
 
 We well remember how some other heart 
 
 To childhood's fondness love entwin'd with ours, 
 
 To live, and cast its after influence 
 
 Upon our course, when love seem'd lost to us. 
 
 Tho' fifty summers o'er our heads have past. 
 
 The scenes of childhood come as fresh as day — 
 
 With village stream, and vernal hills and lanes 
 
 To deck with joy our hearts and souls again. 
 
 O, wondrous life ! that thus the early dawn 
 
 Should be to cheer, when age is passing o'er. 
 
 O, wondrous mystery! yet so sublime. 
 
ELLEN SEYMOUR. 1 
 
 To Speak sweet peace when woe is on the brow, 
 
 And home, and youth, a mother's love, 
 
 To melt the hardest heart of fallen man. 
 
 Ah ! Ah 1 fond scene, my spirit where it will? 
 
 Behold whate'er I may, I'm with thee still, 
 
 Tho' vict'ry, honor, added to my name, 
 
 My thoughts of thee will ever be the same. 
 
 MOriTlVERsiTT) 
 II. 
 
 A fine domain ; and on the rising ground 
 The Gothic mansion of a rich man stands ; 
 An avenue of old and stately oaks 
 Is the approach unto this ancient seat. 
 This home of virtue, love and charity. ' 
 
 His family, a son, reaching man's estate. 
 Three fair-hair'd daughters, and a loving wife, 
 Fill'd with the virtues of a Christian soul : 
 A tender mother, she, thro' every care. 
 
2 ELLEN SEYMOUR. 
 
 But one of these was flower of the flock, 
 
 Belov'd by all, her very sight rever'd. 
 
 As she would pass each cotter's simple home, • 
 
 Or 'minister unto their urgent wants. 
 
 And children in the village at their play 
 
 Would bow and c'urtesy as she passed by ; 
 
 And tell, when home they came from school. 
 
 Of her melodious voice that in the hymn 
 
 Join'd theirs, and sang unto the King of Kings. 
 
 Charm of each one that moved in her sphere. 
 
 Love of her was centered in each heart ; 
 
 And when the shades of eve o'erspread the earth. 
 
 Her merry voice true pleasure would impart. 
 
 Scarce clos'd a day upon this happy home 
 
 But she had been engag'd in goodly work, 
 
 To satisfy the promptings of a soul 
 
 Alli'd to something higher, mightier. 
 
 Than ordinary things of daily life. 
 
ELLEN SEYMOUR. 1 3 
 
 Hard by, young William liv'd — an only child 
 Of widow'd mother, who in means reduc'd* 
 Fought hard against her lot in alter'd life; 
 And William was a worthy son. Deep read 
 And learn'd ; well spoken of by village poor. 
 And these two families h^d long been friends. 
 
 One eve in summer, when the vesper dew 
 
 Fed the drooping roses, and reviv'd their glow. 
 
 Two gentle hearts with beauty's essence fill'd 
 
 Spoke the language of mysterious love ; 
 
 And life seem'd come from some angelic clime 
 
 To make their pure and tender passions flow. 
 
 Quickly the rose-tint left fair Ellen's clteek. 
 
 As timidly she lifted up her eyes 
 
 To meet the glance of William as he came ; 
 
 And registered in heaven was that love, 
 
 Which to describe is not the gift of thought. 
 
 She early hasten'd to her couch that eve, 
 2 
 
14 ELLEN SEYMOUR. 
 
 And religion's glories shone upon her heart, 
 
 When in her prayers she gently breath'd his name, 
 
 And begg'd her God fulfill a Father's part. 
 
 Her heart that ne'er before had known love's pang, 
 
 Was filled with emotion, and a stream 
 
 Of scalding tears flow'd freely down her cheek 
 
 From true affection — 't was a virgin's dream. 
 
 "When in the sky the pale full moon 
 
 Rises above the woody height, 
 Then lovers hold their festal noon. 
 
 And silver fairies haunt the night. 
 Their queen upon the waveless lake, 
 
 Beneath a lily pearly white 
 Slumbers awhile, the sunbeams break 
 
 And unto flowers give delight ; 
 But when the twilight like a dream 
 
 Comes falling o'er the mountain's crest. 
 
ELLEN SEYMOUR. 1 5 
 
 Then hies she to the woodland green 
 
 To rouse the fairy band from rest : 
 And cries, come'! come ! the moon is bright, 
 
 Come from the fragrant cowslip bells. 
 Come and skip in the dewy night. 
 
 Come ! come ! come ! from the honey'd cells. 
 Forthwith the placid starry night. 
 
 Bride of the bygone golden day. 
 Is all ilium 'd from fairies bright. 
 
 In silv'ry gossamer robes at play. 
 Array'd in beams of lovely truth, 
 
 Beneath a spreading myrtle tree, 
 A tender maiden and a youth 
 
 Spoke the heart's fond ecstasy. 
 And called on the placid night 
 
 To hear the vows from lovers' lips. 
 Uttered in the moon's pale light, 
 
 Where Flora the bright dewdrop sips ; 
 
 rUi:^! vBHSITy) 
 
 f5? 
 
 
1 6 ELLEN SEYMOUR. 
 
 And echo in the sylvan glen, 
 
 Sister of melancholy night, 
 Brought back the vows to them again 
 
 And gave their startled hearts delight. 
 
 But then an angry father's stern decree 
 Would sever hearts that love had firmly bound. 
 And she was left in wretchedness to weep. 
 But ne'er in spirit be from William free. 
 Deni'd her sight, he oft at eve would steal 
 Into the shrubbery, near to the house. 
 And in her chamber window see the light 
 Gf flick'ring lamp, as perhaps she pray'd ; 
 And in the darkness he would meditate, 
 And thank his God that he was ever near. 
 
 G, could our minds the future penetrate, 
 And see the consequence of stern resolve ; 
 G, could paternal love by heaven's smile 
 
ELLEN SEYMOUR. 1 7 
 
 The fate of brightest hopes and beauty see, 
 Poverty, a brand of crime would never be. 
 Love seated in her heart, she knew not peace, 
 And prayed night and day unto her God, 
 That he would grant her soul release from sighs, 
 And dry the stream of tears that ever flow'd 
 For him she lov'd, for whom she suffered all. 
 And who to her seem'd in the very air. 
 And in each leaf mov'd by the passing breeze. 
 
 A maiden's prayer ! wish of a pure heart. 
 Unto the Giver of all earthly gifts. 
 Breathing the words, " My William, live for me, 
 O, grant that he, my William, live for me." 
 Not with same pleasure doth she touch the harp ; 
 The merry smiles have ceased now to play 
 Across her face that once was brightly lit 
 With mellow tints of health, and sweet content ; 
 For love in saintly purity is there ; 
 
1 8 ELLEN SEYMOUR. 
 
 And she, once happy, is a drooping flow'r. 
 Such is the diverted current of pure hearts. 
 And altho' months, and weary years roll past, 
 And the summer's heat, and the winter's cold 
 Blow o'er the heart, there comes no change ; 
 For love is life, and life is death, and death 
 Is only a gentle step to brighter spheres. 
 
 III. 
 Flowers never die, 
 
 But live forever. 
 On true love rely: 
 
 It ceaseth never. 
 Tho' time cruel be. 
 
 Heaven is still near ; 
 The heart is never free 
 
 From the soul once dear. 
 
ELLEN SEYMOUR. 19 
 
 Bubbles rise and burst, 
 
 Rivers still roll on ; 
 Storms may rage their worst, 
 
 Hope is ne'er bygone. 
 Wintry blasts may blow, 
 
 Hoary age come on, 
 Hearts be drooping low. 
 
 Sun of morn shines on. 
 
 ;tJHIVERSITTj 
 
 Doubts may fall at eve, 
 
 Darker, drearier. 
 Naught doth them relieve. 
 
 Life grows wearier. 
 Morning bringeth light, 
 
 Mem'ry wakes to bliss; 
 Happy is the sight. 
 
 True love 's not remiss. 
 
ELLEN SEYMOUR. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Fast were the sun's rays sinking in the west, 
 As for a foreign shore a lone bark sail'd 
 And from its deck a young man gazed back 
 Upon his country, passing fast from view ; 
 And woe was in his heart, for there was one 
 Ofwhom he thought, and whom this parting day 
 'Most seem'd to him to number with the past. 
 During that long voyage he thought of her; 
 Her living picture shone upon his breast, 
 And in his dreams of innocence and youth 
 Love's brightest star gave to his spirit rest. 
 
 Unto a lonely isle in tropic sea 
 
 William went, and there in trading pursuits 
 
 Was he engaged ; for 'twas necessary 
 
 That he should toil to gain his daily bread. 
 
 In leisure time he cultivated flow'rs, 
 
 And thought of Ellen, as with tender care 
 
ELLEN SEYMOUR. 21 
 
 He trained the roses o'er the lattice work, 
 And wish'd her near to see his rosy bow'rs. 
 The brightest visions beamed on his soul, 
 When in the starlight he would fondly gaze 
 Upon the ocean lying calm and still ; 
 For there love's echo seem'd to whisper, hope ? 
 At times he'd wander o'er the coral strand, 
 And watch the roaring sea-waves rise and fall ; 
 And see, by chance, long distance off the land, 
 A bird returning 'fore the night came on. 
 And wrapt in thought he'd fly to days bygone: 
 But not a murmur e'er escap'd his lips, 
 For he had faith to buoy his feeling heart. 
 To give him hope in God and man, in one. 
 
 V. 
 
 Years sped quickly past. Roses bloom'd and died 
 Troubles came and went, parcel of the past ; 
 
2 ELLEN SEYMOUR. 
 
 Yet one deep sorrow dwelt in Ellen's heart, 
 
 But conscience whispered into her ear 
 
 The law that bids the child love and obey, 
 
 And she submissive was unto her state. 
 
 The home that once so happy was, was gone, 
 
 And all the luxuries of life withal, 
 
 For time had fallen there with heavy hand, 
 
 Poverty, and almost want. Oh ! what a fall. 
 
 Oh ! what a scene within that ancient house. 
 Where hearts were rending, and a mad'ning mood 
 Had seized Ellen's father ; and he tried 
 To call a curse upon the man that brought 
 This hardest sorrow upon all he lov'd. 
 But she cried : " Stay ! oh father, stay that curse ! 
 And leave the man to conscience and to God ;" 
 The curse was stayed in her father's throat. 
 Beneath affliction both her parents died. 
 When she was forc'd to live from charity; 
 
ELLEN SEYMOUR. 23 
 
 And oh ! sympathy, have pitying heart 
 
 For one who has so tenderly been bred ; 
 
 And should ye meet such souls beneath some shade, 
 
 In Christian mercy fill a Christian's part. 
 
 VI. 
 
 The dark night pass'd, the morn was breaking. 
 The flowers were fresh to see ; 
 
 And I kept watch 'till I was weary, 
 AVaiting alone for thee. 
 
 'Twas long since I knew and lov'd thee. 
 
 My heart was light and gay; 
 But that sad night my heart was broken, 
 
 Because thou wert away. 
 
 When the church bells chim'd the midnight hour, 
 
 Wearied, I could have slept ; 
 With heart grown sad, I would have died, 
 
 And from my soul I wept. 
 
.24 ELLEN SEYMOUR. 
 
 I tried to sooth my drooping heart, 
 
 But peace was not for me, 
 Until I knelt me down and pray'd 
 
 Our God would set me free. 
 
 It was then I knew that peace would come, 
 And strong my heart became ; 
 
 It was then I laid me down to rest 
 With hope; 'twas not in vain. 
 
 VII. 
 A dismal winter, that had been severe, 
 With sharp, cold, biting frosts and piercing blasts, 
 Had now passed o'er, and again once more 
 The flowers of nature bloom'd, and grac'd the earth ; 
 And Ellen by hard teaching gain'd her bread. 
 A rich wooer came ; it was a summer's day, 
 AVhen woods and blossoms spoke of brightest hope, 
 And little birds gave out their blithest hymns 
 
ELLEN SEYMOUR. 2$ 
 
 As tribute offered to sweet nature's Lord; 
 But she to him a stern refusal gave; 
 And when herself with solitude, save God, 
 In thanking him she breathed William's name. 
 Trusting in God, she knew religion's worth, 
 And thus she toiled on, day after day, 
 Ofttimes wearied out, from grief and pain, 
 Her eyes were tired, when she late at night 
 Would sit to mend her almost threadbare clothes ; 
 And as she sat one night at work, she thought. 
 What if I could but go where William is : 
 And some voice gave the word back to her, go ! 
 And she was sore afraid at what she heard, 
 But in her fear she called on the Lord. 
 
 O give me, O give me, the summer's day, 
 When the woods and fields are all in bloom, 
 
 And some little bird sings its blithesome lay. 
 As the sun's rays fall in the month of June. 
 
26 ELLEN SEYMOUR. 
 
 'Tis then when we ramble with soul-grief bound, 
 
 Some powers, instinctive,' the shackles unbind; 
 And myriads of insects minute are found. 
 
 To whisper of hope to the weary mind. 
 - The instinct within climbs higher and higher, 
 
 As the eye looks on some little bird's nest; 
 For love of a Maker the heart doth inspire, 
 
 And speak to the soul of a future rest. 
 The swallow flies back to its former haunt. 
 
 From a sunnier clime over the sea; 
 The mind in its reverie bids woes avaunt, 
 
 As it returns to its bright infancy. 
 Give me the summer when the sun doth beam. 
 
 And the meadows are with flowers aglow, 
 For as the hart pants after the running stream, 
 
 Doth my soul sigh for summer below. 
 
 O, chastity ! sublime and sacred thing. 
 
 Thou pearl 'mong flowers, by God's grace preserv'd. 
 
ELLEN SEYMOUR. 27 
 
 Deem not thyself obscure, for tender love 
 Dawns still on thee, from climes far, far away. 
 One eve in sadness, 'gain this maiden thought, 
 What if I could but go where AVilliam is ! 
 When in the silence, with the very thought, 
 The self-same voice unto her whisper'd, go ! 
 When she was not amaz'd to hear again 
 The word, for reason to her God bow'd low ; 
 And go, she did resolve, lost peace to find; 
 But tears bedew'd her cheek, as she thought o'er 
 Her means, and gloomy fears prey'd on her mind. 
 
 ^UNIVERSITY- 
 
 VIII. 
 
 I fancy oft that face of thine. 
 
 And think of time gone by ; 
 And think of time when life young spring 
 Had barely known a sigh. 
 
28 ELLEN SEYMOUR. 
 
 How well I recollect the time 
 
 When affluence was mine ; 
 But now I'm left alone to mourn 
 
 Lost of all love but thine. 
 
 And know dear soul thy gentle words 
 
 Will oft fall on my ear, 
 To bring me thoughts of other days 
 
 And other scenes most dear. 
 
 Then breathe in language low and sweet, 
 O, spirit o'er the sea, 
 ^ That we upon this earth may meet, 
 And be from sorrow free. 
 
 IX. 
 
 Early one morn the postman's knock was heard, 
 With letter for Ellen Seymour from abroad ; 
 
ELLEN SEYMOUR. 29 
 
 Yet she ne'er gave a thought from whom it came, 
 But broke the seal, nor could her eyes believe 
 That what she read was true : " Come unto me." 
 Her heart was flooded, but with tears of joy, 
 For joy had come to her as winged dream. 
 And then amaz'd she read, the needful sum 
 Would be unto her paid, for outfit, and 
 A passage in the good ship " Arundel,'' 
 Which bears this letter o'er the wondrous sea. 
 She poor, all seem'd unto her mind a dream ; 
 Again she read the letter, and again. 
 Then in it all the work of heaven was seen. 
 
 X. 
 
 William had heard, altho' so far away, 
 Of all that had transpir'd ; the poverty, * 
 And alter'd state of her he fondly lov'd, 
 And offer'd heart, and welcome to the shore. 
 If she would come, and with him live and die. 
 
30 ELLEN SEYMOUR. 
 
 And now a visit to the cypress grove 
 
 Where Ellen's parents sleep the sleep of peace ; 
 
 Once more to lay sweet flow'rs, give last adieu, 
 
 Unto the sod that covers their remains ; 
 
 And flow'rs she laid on William's mother's grave. 
 
 But, oh ! the parting from this scene was sad, 
 
 For fervency of youthful love prevail'd. 
 
 And tears unbidden flow'd from mem'ry's fount; 
 
 To leave this spot was leaving other days. 
 
 Upon the deep she sails, to other lands ; 
 
 Her native isle, alas ! belov'd in vain ! 
 
 Farewell, fond scenes ! the native hills, 
 
 The native village, oh ! to all, farewell. 
 
 The heart is heavy, and the sight grows dim ; 
 
 But yet she sees thee, oh ! thou country dear. 
 
 Farewell unto thee, oh ! a fond farewell ; 
 
 For him she leaves thee, oh, farewell ! farewell ! 
 
ELLEN SEYMOUR. 3 1 
 
 XI. 
 
 Five weary months upon the ocean's breast, 
 Five weary months with spirit ill at ease, 
 Then came a sight of the long wish'd for shore ; 
 The land of hope, the land of many dreams. 
 The harbor gain'd, no William was in sight, 
 And words will not relate her grief at heart ; 
 For where was he who promis'd with his love 
 To bid her welcome ? source of her delight. 
 
 Pure as an angel from the realms above. 
 Lovely as the dew-besprinkl'd budding rose, 
 And with a spirit near allied to God, 
 She landed on that charming, sunny isle. 
 Her heart was sorely troubled, for she felt 
 Like one who for some coming danger fears ; 
 But with heroic spirit she conceal'd 
 From others' gaze the bitter inward tears 
 
32 ELLEN SEYMOUR. 
 
 His cottage gain'd, then came a sweet surprise, 
 To see the roses clusfring o'er the porch, 
 And by the well kept borders and the flow'rs. 
 She knew of AVilliam's task in leisure time. 
 But strange, he does not greet her at the door ; 
 She can no longer keep her doubts conceal'd: 
 What does it mean ? Oh ! why is this, she cried ; 
 Does William Stanley live ? Oh ! where is he ? 
 Be calm ! be calm ! a stranger said ; he lives. 
 But keeps his bed, his sickness was severe. 
 And quickly she was calm, for deepest sighs 
 The love of God had mov'd, and he was near. 
 She told her name, but oh ! they knew it well ; 
 'Twas the last pronounced by him ere reason left. 
 And that in anguish, for his soul was sad 
 From thoughts of her, and oh ! his heart knew fear. 
 
ELLEN SEYMOUR. 33 
 
 XII. 
 
 Once again, O, much loved brightness, 
 
 Come and give to my heart ddight;. 
 Hyacinths, in virgin whiteness. 
 
 Come ! and again enchant my sight. 
 A sweet chorus strikes on my ear, 
 
 I would wish to join in the song ; 
 But as the bright time is so near, 
 
 I would wish to live on as long. 
 
 With a last adieu to the flowers. 
 
 Then I'll leave for the better home, 
 To walk in the fairest bowers. 
 
 And with the heart I love, to roam. 
 Oh ! 'tis hard to part from the scene 
 
 Which mem'ry bringeth to charm ; 
 Life might much brighter have been. 
 
 But her love the sting doth disarm. 
 
34 ELLEN SEYMOUR. 
 
 If SO be, adieu ! to that form 
 
 Which ever before me doth shine ; 
 What trials for her how she'll mourn, 
 
 Before mystery, deep, divine ; 
 But whisper to her when I'm gone, 
 
 And laid low in the cold, cold ground, 
 That her love on my heart ever shone. 
 
 And in heaven my love will be found. 
 
 'Twas thus he spoke, when he'd made peace with 
 
 God, 
 Who deign'd unto his soul a glimpse of light. 
 Lovely in brilliancy, preceding darkness 
 Sad to contemplate ; but oh ! his was life. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Is this real ? can my senses tell me true ? 
 That I have journey 'd over the sea for this ? 
 
ELLEN SEYMOUR. 35 
 
 Oh ! welcome day of peaceful rest, to me, 
 
 If thou art taken unto realms of bliss. 
 
 And there he lay, so alter'd and so wan, 
 
 That she could scarcely know him, were it not 
 
 The known expression linger'd on his face. 
 
 She grasp'd his hand, she kissed his parched lips. 
 
 But no return of love — his reason's gone. 
 
 She saw it all ; the voice that whisper'd, go ! 
 
 Was voice of God, to bring her to his side. 
 
 A pure heroine, fill'd with Christian love. 
 
 She bow'd 'fore sorrow, yet she wore a smile. 
 
 And watched and tended to every sigh. 
 
 And prayed unto God, whose aid was nigh. 
 
 In danger she to take the sickness too ; 
 
 But no ! hope's wings are strong, and fill'd with love, 
 
 She heedeth not her life, if ta'en for him : 
 
 And thus she watches during night and day, 
 
 From Mercy asking that his spirit stay. 
 
36 
 
 ELLEN SEYMOUR. 
 
 The fever's stayed, and her ling'ring eye 
 
 Looks on his face, as reason breaks again 
 
 To Hght the heart, and give the spirit joy. 
 
 And not in vain. He turns to her and asks : 
 
 Am I in Heaven, that thou, love, art here? 
 
 But no ! I see it all. Be not afraid ; ^ 
 
 Come nearer ; but he could not further speak 
 
 The hallow'd language of his glowing heart. 
 
 Pure bliss her soul did sip, to hear his voice, 
 
 Clear and beautiful, as tho' an angel spoke 
 
 Sweet words of love, to call forth tears of joy, 
 
 Recall the bloom that once w^as on her cheek. 
 
 Strength came to him, at last, and he would gaze 
 
 Into her eyes, and firmly grasp her hand ; 
 
 And she would gaze in his, and never tire, 
 
 For she ne'er, with him, felt the need of rest. 
 
 All fears and gloom had gone ; the day had broke, 
 
 And all was sunshine: summer had awoke. 
 
ELLEN SEYMOUR. 37 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Sweetest fragrance was distill'd from flowers, 
 
 When at the altar of the church they stood 
 
 To bind the vow of love, 'fore God and man, 
 
 With witnesses besides from Courts above ; 
 
 And happy were they in their island home, 
 
 For flow'rs of constancy blossom'd in their hearts ; 
 
 And little lilies came to brighten life, 
 
 To bind the parents closer in their love, 
 
 With simple prattle to dispel all cares 
 
 Away from that thrice hallow'd christian hearth. 
 
 Not a Raphael's, nor Angelo's art : 
 Not Rome's antiquities, Italy's fam'd scenes. 
 Nor Eastern land dress'd in loveliness. 
 Can give the tender, loving soul a charm 
 Like scenes, when fancy wandereth along 
 The paths of childhood — tho' a clouded sky — 
 3 
 
3^ ELLEN SEYMOUR. 
 
 To view the country home, the fields and flow'rs, 
 And loving hearts with innocence entwin'd. 
 Tho' music is the voice of spheres above, 
 In life, no strains can give the thrilling joy 
 That is possessed when we turn to view 
 The long-left sunny home of early years ; 
 And look upon the little village church 
 AVhere on Sabbath morn in innocence we pray'd ; 
 Nor can its mystic chords reveal the woe 
 That is endured, when in such a scene 
 We see the vacant chair where mother sat. 
 Where we in childhood used to kneel at eve. 
 
 XV. 
 
 Calm was the lagoon as a sea of gold 
 When the sun's rays played on its waters. 
 Clear and lovely in excessive brightness, 
 Surrounded by leafy shades of beauty. 
 And when the solemn tones of the church-bell 
 
ELLEN SEYMOUR. 39 
 
 From the orange-grove, on the mountain top, 
 Came o'er the stillness that was wont to reign 
 With the mellow and rich garments of nature, 
 The scene was one of holy enchantment. 
 The lotus petals open'd to the sun ; 
 Convolvuli twined clust'ring 'round the shrubs ; 
 And high above the groves of cinnamon. 
 Thronged with birds of the richest plumage. 
 Cocoa trees waved in stately majesty. 
 Celestial loveliness was pictured here. 
 For quietude continu'd the year round, 
 Undisturb'd, save when Indians chanted : 
 And towards the hour when the sun went down 
 Their voices came in the air, clear and sweet 
 As tho' a choir of angels, from the clouds. 
 Sang to cheer some wanderer on his way ; 
 And this is one of their heavenly cantiques : 
 A leur mere qui est dans les cieux. 
 
40 ELLEN SEYMOUR. 
 
 Oui, nous t^aimons, plaisir de notre cceur 
 Mais d'un amour qui n'est pas exprimable ; 
 Que serions-nous, O vierge admirable, 
 Sans toi qui fais notre plus grand bonheur ? 
 Alma, Mater Alma. 
 
 Espoir du cceur! Oh oui, nous t'aimons tous, 
 Nos coeurs seraient seuls et pleins de tristesse 
 Sans cet amour qui fait notre allegresse 
 Espoir du coeur, rappelle toi de nous. 
 Mater Creatoris. 
 
 Oui, nous t'aimons, toi notre seul bonheur, 
 Pour t'obeir nous donnons notre vie ; 
 Veille sur nous, vierge digne d'envie, 
 Et sois toujours, toujours dans notre cceur 
 Stella Matutina. 
 
 Such chansons were taught by the Mission'ry 
 Who had lived many years amongst them : 
 
ELLEN SEYMOUR. 4I 
 
 Grown old and gray, beloved by them all- 
 Return for love — he with them sought to die, 
 After fifty years of labor, reckon'd 
 By the budding of leaves of the palm trees. 
 William and Ellen, with their children, join'd 
 In the worship of God in mystery, 
 With hearts brightened by the calm repose 
 Of this little spot in the wilderness. 
 But with this loveliness their hearts would fly 
 To the green lanes, and the flowers of Spring 
 In the little village, far, far away; 
 Bright, and more beautiful to the mind 
 Than this lotus-bound isle of loveliness, 
 Adorned with an ocean of verdure 
 Luxuriant in the fragrance of bloom. 
 
 Life's voyage down the human stream of time 
 Is where the soul first has a glimpse of love : 
 
42 ELLEN SEYMOUR. 
 
 From infinity, infinity she is, 
 And journeys on beneath the brilliant beams 
 That are but shadows of immortal love. 
 To look from regions far above our sphere, 
 This were a garden fill'd with precious flow'rs 
 That bud and blossom, fade to sight and go, 
 Not to first principles, but bloom elsewhere. 
 Some modern shepherds would the reason stay, 
 And fain proclaim upon enticing reeds 
 The tale of progress, all this journey thro', * 
 And smile at battles, laugh at vict'ries won, 
 And tell of sleep forever in the tomb. 
 But love steps in and contradicts their tale 
 By acts that spoken tongues can ne'er reveal. 
 And this is life. His soul was in a clime 
 Whose air was balm, and the resplendent sun 
 Gave his diamond rays unto the shore 
 And brought forth fruits and brilliant tints of 
 flowers, 
 
ELLEN SEYMOUR. 43 
 
 To render scenes Elysian to the eye. 
 
 And hers was in a clime from this remote, 
 
 Upon a shore in North Atlantic sea, 
 
 ^Gainst which the angry billows foam'd and roll'd 
 
 Where blasts of winter blew, and spread dismay: 
 
 Yet love still lived, and soul to soul would speak 
 
 In tenderest devotedness of woe. 
 
 Her heart was in a night of hope and fear ; 
 
 But hope shone forth, and fear was overcast. 
 
 When in the darkness came the voice of love — 
 
 Thro' wondrous space — and said unto her, go ! 
 
 And light was beamed on her hallow'd soul. 
 
 Have ye not had a moment when the soul 
 
 Has gleamed with a sudden grace, and spoke. 
 
 When conscience has been wearied with pain; 
 
 Or heart alone, fearful and desolate. 
 
 In the wide world of seeming gloom and shade ? 
 
 It may have been when hope had nearly fail'd 
 
 To light the mystic way of daily life. 
 
44 
 
 ELLEN SEYMOUR. 
 
 And ye were near the brink of dark despair. 
 She spoke ! and thought arose in happy mood, 
 And all was peace, the pathway clear and bright. 
 O, could the eye but penetrate the veil 
 That hangs 'tween this and other brighter realms, 
 The heart would stand aghast at awful doubt, 
 And faith triumphant reign thro' weal or woe. 
 
 % 
 
A mother's love. 45 
 
 A MOTHER'S LOVE. 
 
 Her love is sweet when the morning dawns 
 
 And the lambkins skip and play ; 
 And sweet it is when the ev'ning sun 
 
 Sheds his mellow, soft'ning ray. 
 It lulls to sleep when descending dew 
 
 Freshens each tiny flower; 
 And comfort gives when awakes the soul 
 
 As the lark proclaims the hour. 
 
 Her love is sweet when the busy bee 
 
 Flies from flower to flower ; 
 'And sweet it is when the roses drink 
 The fresh'ning noonday shower. 
 *3 
 
46 A mother's love. 
 
 Its influence conies when babbling brook 
 
 Merrily rolls along ; 
 And dear is her love when virgins sing 
 
 Their heartfelt vesper song. 
 
 Her love is sweet where the gurgling stream 
 
 Comes o'er the crevic'd rock ; 
 And sweet it is when home at eve 
 
 The shepherd brings his flock. 
 It protecting is when tempest-toss'd 
 
 Is the bark upon the deep; 
 And cherish'd is when the storm is pass'd 
 
 And the wind is hush'd to sleep. 
 
 Her love is sweet when the groves around 
 In summer's hues are dress'd ; 
 
 And sweet it is when wild thyme blows 
 As incense to the bless'd. 
 
A MOTHER^S LOVE. 47 
 
 It fragrance brings, like the breeze of June, 
 When it thro' the casement plays ; 
 
 And it cheering speaks when o'er the hills 
 Hangs the blue summer haze. 
 
 Her love is sweet when the nightingale 
 
 Sings at night in the brake : 
 And sweet it is when the moonbeams play 
 
 Across the quiet lake. 
 Its strains are felt when the wood-pigeon cooes 
 
 For its mate when far away; 
 And its strains are felt when the cuckoo sings, 
 
 And echo answers its lay. 
 
 Her love is sweet where the narcissus grows 
 And bends in love to the stream; 
 
 And sweet it is when for God on high 
 With love the soul doth beam. 
 
48 A mother's love. 
 
 It soothing is where the lilacs grow 
 "In summer's lustrous eves/' 
 
 And its fondness known when zephyrs blow 
 And rustle the willows' leaves. 
 
 Her love is sweet when life is young 
 
 And the little heart knows joy; 
 And sweet it is when, white with age, 
 
 Time comes, life to destroy. 
 It speaks of hope when the heart's alone 
 
 And bends beneath some grief; 
 And in its cheering, mellow voice. 
 
 Gives words of sweet relief 
 
 Her love is sweet when bent in prayer, 
 Is the child that stoop'd to sin ; 
 
 And sweet it is when gentle care 
 
 Makes pure the heart within. 
 
A MOTHER S LOVE. 
 
 49 
 
 It knows no bounds when sickness comes, 
 And the body prostrate lies ; 
 
 And how sweet it is when leaves the soul 
 This earth, for the far-off skies. 
 
 Her love is sweeter than fragrant morn, 
 
 Coming in roseate ray; 
 And sweeter than life when angels call 
 
 To bear the soul away. 
 Its odor is sweet as the violet's 
 
 Before it's plucked to fade, 
 And nothing is dearer during life, 
 
 For 'tis sunshine in the shade. 
 
 ^ OF THE 
 
50 TO THE FORGET-ME-NOT. 
 
 TO THE FORGET-ME-NOT. 
 
 Pretty, bright blue flower, 
 
 In the hedgerow growing, 
 With rays of hope and love, 
 
 Tho' boreal winds are blowing : 
 Hold thy head to view. 
 
 Charm of beauteous nature. 
 Believe in love ! 't is true 
 
 From One — 'tis thy Creator. 
 
SOLITUDE. 
 
 51 
 
 SOLITUDE. 
 
 Of merry life and worldly things 
 
 I 'm not content to sing ; 
 But O! my muse, dear solitude, 
 
 With all thy charms shall ring. 
 
 I love along thy paths to tread 
 And converse *neath thy shade 
 
 With all that's good, that pleasing is 
 In woody copse and glade. 
 
 And then the thousand things in life 
 I think of when with thee, 
 
 Afford me hope, day after day, 
 And keep my spirit free. 
 
52 SOLITUDE. 
 
 With thee I hear the birdies sing 
 
 Their clearest, blithest lay. 
 I hear the tuneful nightingale, 
 
 When fades the light of day. 
 
 Each blade of grass a volume is. 
 When I 'm alone with thee. 
 
 The wayside flower that grows obscure. 
 Is wondrous theme for me. 
 
 The dawn of day, the rising sun. 
 Sunset, the dark, dark night. 
 
 With thee has wonders for my soul. 
 To speak of holy light. 
 
 Not 'neath the brightest orient sky 
 Dost thou most please the heart. 
 
 But 'neath the dark, dark shades of night. 
 When thought thou dost impart. 
 
SOLITUDE. 53 
 
 I love to stray alone with thee, 
 
 Along some moss-grown dell, 
 Where cuckoos sing, where foxgloves grow 
 
 Blue bells and pimpernel. 
 
 Or down the winding valley side, 
 To where the young lambs play. 
 
 And where the busy little bees 
 Take honey all the day. 
 
 Or down upon a stranded shore. 
 Where an angry tide doth roll. 
 
 And thunders peal, and lightnings flash, 
 I find peace for my soul. 
 
 Or 'neath some tow'ring granite cliff, 
 
 Where sea gulls build a nest. 
 And 'gainst which dash the ocean's waves. 
 
 My weary mind finds rest. 
 
54 SOLITUDE. 
 
 In dark and dreary rock-hewn cave 
 
 A hermit has found rest, 
 Away from man, from vanities, 
 
 His walk is with the bless'd. 
 
 He 's stemm'd the tide of raging fire 
 
 That nestles in each breast ; 
 His heart, he's won his God to love. 
 
 His soul to be caress'd. 
 
 Ah ! what is life ? He 's known its end. 
 
 Thro' trouble he has pass'd. 
 And found in friendship but a name. 
 
 And love that would not last. 
 
 He's shrunk from sight, where reptiles creep 
 
 He 's laid his weary head ; 
 For food, wild berries, bitter herbs, 
 
 Of moss he 's made his bed. 
 
SOLITUDE. 55 
 
 Many a good and lowly heart 
 
 In solitude 's had charms ; 
 And many a pure and God-like soul 
 
 Therein has quell'd alarms. 
 
56 REMEMBRANCE OF THEE. 
 
 REMEMBRANCE OF THEE. 
 
 Hark! the gentle lark 
 
 'Wakes the morning with its lay ; 
 The sun is breaking, 
 
 And I must away. 
 'Tis hard thus to part, 
 
 When for years we've been friends, 
 
 But deep in my heart 
 
 Is the shaft love sends. 
 
 When far, far away 
 
 From thee I Ve lov'd so true. 
 My heart will be sad, 
 
 My soul pierced thro'. 
 
REMEMBRANCE OF THEE. 57 
 
 Come to me what may. 
 
 As I linger far from thee, 
 Dear will be ever 
 Remembrance of thee. 
 
 
58 . LADY CELESTINE. 
 
 LADY CELESTINE. 
 
 The Lady Celestine doth sigh ; 
 All alone in her chamber, high 
 In the turret ; the hour is late, 
 And the lattice o'erlooks the outward gate. 
 No moonbeams solace give her eyes, 
 As she gazeth 'neath midnight skies. 
 Upon the road down by the brake, 
 Where, as each willow leaf doth shake. 
 The plaintive song doth pain her heart. 
 From absence of its counterpart. 
 O, lonely, lonely is her state, 
 Without her heart's united mate. 
 Who, to the battle far away 
 . Has gone ; and dismal was the day 
 
LADY CELESTINE. 59 
 
 He bade adieu to fairest maid, 
 In robes of early love array'd. 
 She tries assuage the burning fire, 
 And tries to draw from fav'rite lyre 
 Sweet notes ; but no ! the plaintive strain 
 Of music addeth to her pain ; 
 And save the pictur'd loving smile 
 Of Herbert, naught can woe beguile. 
 
 Where is my love, my absent joy, 
 For oh ! I feel I soon must die :, _ 
 
 This aching grief, too sad to last, 
 Is with me like a winter's blast, 
 To render cheerless heart and soul ; 
 And oh ! I wish my vision's goal, 
 For there, alone, I see relief 
 From all this sorrow and this grief. 
 
 The cheering morning's sun hath broke 
 On the hazel wood beyond the moat ; 
 
6o LADY CELESTINE. 
 
 And skipping o'er the verdant lawn, 
 
 Comes lady Celestine's young fawn, 
 
 Bleating, in the tenderest strain. 
 
 To see its mistress once again. 
 
 The thrushes sing a joyous song; 
 
 The warder's blast blows loud and strong ; 
 
 A horseman gallops o'er the ridge, 
 
 Keeping the road towards the bridge. 
 
 Celestine to the lattice hies, 
 
 When no loved one meets her eyes ; 
 
 But a strange 'Squire, wearied and worn. 
 
 Enters the court with look forlorn. 
 
 Woe weighs her beating heart down low. 
 
 When from a dove as white as snow 
 
 Sweet music came, as when it coo'd 
 
 In the long left green myrtle wood ; 
 
 And dreams of fairy love-songs sweet 
 
 Came, when her Herbert at her feet 
 
 Seem'd to bend, and with honey'd kiss. 
 
LADY CELESTINE. 6 1 
 
 Restore once more angelic bliss ; 
 As when love plum'd in shining gold, 
 Did first her vestal bosom hold. 
 But no ! no ! no ! it is a dream, 
 Herbert on earth will ne'er be seen ; 
 For the 'Squire tells of wretched sight, 
 When Herbert in the bloody fight, 
 Wounded by a dark Moslem's blow. 
 Fell nobly for God's cause below : 
 Breathing the name of Celestine, 
 His fondest love, his pictur'd queen. 
 
 Young, dashing knights, from castles round, 
 
 In speech that has no mystic sound 
 
 For Lady Celestine, hard try 
 
 To brightly light her tearful eye 
 
 With ray of love ; but no ! love's light 
 
 To her will never give delight ; 
 
 For dark's the world, as dismal night. 
 
62 LADY CELESTINE. 
 
 Tho^ all around be merry and bright, 
 And lilies blow upon the moat, 
 Where swans majestically float. 
 No blessed dreams hath Celestine ; 
 Hope in the future is unseen : 
 Altho' the gloaming and the haze 
 Are invisible, 'fore the rays 
 Of cheering, golden noonday sun, 
 For now the battle is begun. 
 She spoke unto a captive bird. 
 Which joyous seem'd to hear her word. 
 And filled soon the atmosphere 
 With music of a brighter sphere ; 
 And hope, in the retirement deep, 
 Arose forthwith from drowsy sleep. 
 But not to look on human bliss, 
 AVith heart's affliction such as this ; 
 And her loving spirit asked why 
 Her Herbert went away to die. 
 
LADY CELESTINE. 63 
 
 Soft is her soul, the hour's serene 
 That looks on lovely Celestine. 
 Her heart is sad, what heavy load, 
 When love therein has its abode. 
 Sunshine has no soothing power 
 When flow'r 's past the aid of shower. 
 She sinks, and meekly sighs and cries, 
 Mercy ! love, from the far-off skies, 
 And with a mother's parting kiss. 
 Her hope 's in death for lasting bliss. 
 And now comes seeming inward swoon, 
 And thro' the lattice the spirit moon 
 Shines brightly in the western sky. 
 When Celestine quite audibly. 
 Speaks of angels round her bed 
 Bearing a chaplet for her head ; 
 And looks on friends so calm and mild, 
 As tho' a living angel smil'd. 
 But now life from her eyes doth fly; 
 
64 LADY CELESTINE. 
 
 She sleeps to bloom a flow'r on high: 
 And angels joy a soul to see, 
 From the silv'ry shrine, virginity. 
 
 Doleful is the funeral knell 
 From the castle chapel's solemn bell. 
 As the procession in regal state 
 Moves slowly to the chancel gate. 
 Where, beneath a white marble slab, 
 Ladies who made the castle glad, 
 And I^ords who foster'd feudal right, 
 Are mould'ring in the vault, from sight. 
 The full light of a window beams, 
 Glist'ning each tear-drop as it streams 
 Down the face of the organist, 
 As the organ peals, his soul enlist; 
 And the tenor voice of young Lewell, 
 In the Miserere, works a spell 
 Upon each soul that's present there. 
 
LADY CELESTINE. 65 
 
 For as from a spirit in the air, 
 With deep love fill'd for her that's gone, 
 The words "have mercy" fell upon 
 Each spirit in the mourning crowd. 
 As with pious awe they lowly bow'd 
 In trembling, 'fore the mystic sign 
 Of God, in veil of bread and wine. 
 The slab is rais'd, and 'mid the gloom 
 Celestine 's lower'd to the tomb j 
 And the choristers they sing. Amen, 
 As she descends to dust again. 
 Sorrow 's there, for 'neath funeral pall. 
 The brightest light of the castle hall 
 Is gone ; and lord and lady say 
 They'll never know a happy day. 
 Until with Celestine they be. 
 In realms of holy ecstacy. 
 The rain falls fast, and shrill winds blow. 
 And sway the great trees to and fro, 
 
 i 
 
(>6 LADY CELESTINE. 
 
 And a raven in the belfry tower, 
 
 In the dark, witching, midnight hour. 
 
 Croaks, croaks, and croaks in doleful woe. 
 
 As it ever does when one doth go. 
 
 Of the noble house of Lord Saint Maur, 
 
 Of Ragland castle, Ragland moor. 
 
 The lonely fawn, with plaintive sigh, 
 Soon broke its tender heart to die. 
 For O 1 it miss'd the fost'ring care 
 Of her, who with it love did share. 
 And then the linnet and the dove. 
 Found soon in death release from love. 
 And after lord and lady die, 
 And those who to the tomb did hie, 
 And other generation reigns, 
 Nought but a marble. slab remains 
 To tell that Lady Celestine, 
 Was the lov'd child of Lord Eugene. 
 
A LEGEND OF THE WESTERN SEA. 67 
 
 A LEGEND OF THE WESTERN SEA. 
 
 The sea rolls mountain high, and steep, 
 
 A galleon breasts each wave, 
 A raging storm is o'er the deep, 
 
 Threat'ning hosts of furies rave. 
 In the north wind, so bleak and cold, 
 
 . Sailors scarce can keep the deck 
 To watch, and hope the timbers hold. 
 
 And save the galleon from wreck. 
 Near to the land she fights the storm ; 
 
 Sails are furl'd, and firmly bound ; 
 Pitching, tossing, awaiting morn. 
 
 When good fortune may be found. 
 From whistling in the upper gear, 
 
 Bending 'fore the raging wind, 
 
6S A LEGEND OF THE WESTERN SEA. 
 
 'T would seem infernal spirits near, 
 
 Lurk'd and victims hop'd to find ; , 
 But no ! the fates proclaim their might 
 
 To the cold and deathlike storm, 
 For in the moonlight of the night, 
 
 Calm across the sea is borne. 
 And tho' the waves keep rolling high, 
 
 Threatening all in fear to keep. 
 And masts creak loud, and spar-ends fly 
 
 In the air, now in the deep : 
 There's hope, long as timbers stand, and 
 
 Manly hearts are not in dread. 
 But guide the craft with steady hand, 
 
 To meet whatever be ahead. 
 
 At last, at last, bright harmonies. 
 Falls the rolling of the sea. 
 
 Before a dream-like, steady breeze, 
 Swelling sails, and three points free. 
 
mmmmum 
 
 A LEGEND OF THE WESTERN SEA. 69 
 
 On, on, the galleon proceeds, 
 
 Far from where the furies reign'd. 
 No more in doubt, from wreck she's freed, 
 
 Nothing lost, a vict'ry gain'd. 
 Her prow cuts thro' the briny deep, 
 
 'Neath sunny sky, near the shore, 
 And mariners carousal keep. 
 
 For storms past and troubles o'er : 
 Bravely they fought, with utmost skill. 
 
 To weather the threat'ning storm \ 
 So now what harm with right good will 
 
 To merrily welcome morn? 
 But every one in his own way. 
 
 To express his joy of heart. 
 So Juan Crespi spoke a say, 
 
 Joyfulness, of noble part : . 
 In return for fostering care, 
 
 Francisco, list ! hear my say. 
 
70 
 
 To dedicate to Saint, 'tis fair, 
 
 Francisco, we name some bay. 
 Francisco outspoke this reply : 
 
 Thou'st in wisdom's words begun, 
 With heart and soul then we will try 
 
 Joy to show, it shall be done. 
 Up spoke an ancient mariner : 
 
 O Padre Francisco, we 
 Resolve to show our gratitude, 
 
 Tho' poor mariners we be ; 
 And near the bay we'll raise a shrine 
 
 Of bright loveliness to see, 
 Where Indian flow'rs shall entwine 
 
 In honor of our Ladye. 
 Right well thou'st spoken this fair day : 
 
 Angels guide ye thro' the tide ; 
 Our hearts in love for ye shall pray : 
 
 Lord be ever by ye side. 
 
A LEGEND OF THE WESTERN SEA. 7 1 
 
 And guide ye safe, ye mariners, 
 
 When ye 're on the troubled sea, 
 Safe to the shore, ye mariners, 
 
 By the shrine of our Ladye. 
 
 Ye patriot sons, on tide embark ; 
 
 Gentle spirits ; noblest pride ; 
 Uundaunted ye, with the cross' mark 
 
 "Far dearer than all beside. 
 Firmest courage : ye foes defy ; 
 
 Giving coward hearts dismay 
 To see warrior spirits die ; 
 
 Truest nobleness display. 
 Ye knights of light, that thrust the lance 
 
 For catise of highest chivalry. 
 Ye all poor captives' weal enhance 
 
 When bowed low in misery. 
 The galleon runs before the wind. 
 
 All the time along the shore : 
 
72 A LEGEND OF THE WESTERN SEA. 
 
 When joy at last! the port they find, 
 
 From which new land they would explore; 
 And on they press for Monterey 
 
 With brightest hope, their hearts aglow, 
 That Providence will shed His ray, 
 
 And blessings on their toil bestow. 
 Not Monterey, some other shore 
 
 Seeming circled by high hills ; 
 A dazzling lake, the surface o'er. 
 
 The brightest hope instils ; 
 For regent o'day uplifts Ris crest, 
 
 Invested with shining rays, 
 And makes the glitt'ring water's breast 
 
 Seem a sea of gold ablaze. 
 And Juan Crespi, from high land. 
 
 Saw an op'ning to the sea. 
 And said, upon this new found land 
 
 The foremost of our race are we. 
 And when the golden beach they trod, 
 
A LEGEND OF THE WESTERN SEA. 73 
 
 Francisco bestow'd the name 
 Upon the bay, and with a nod 
 
 Juan Crespi spoke the same. 
 Their banner was rais'd, and out it spread, 
 
 And their hearts fill'd with dehght. 
 Uprising from ashes deemed dead. 
 
 The same eagle wings his flight. 
 And the mariners came and rais'd a shrine 
 
 To Dolours of our Ladye ; 
 And flow'rs around it did entwine, 
 
 And a fair sight it was to see. 
 
 Now, where lupins blew, on sand-hills' breast, 
 And fragrance gave to the breeze, 
 
 A mighty city lifts her crest. 
 Peopled from across the seas — 
 
 A right noble city, first in fame 
 
 ' For commerce and youthful might, 
 
 And to be queen of western main 
 
74 A LEGEND OF THE WESTERN • SEA. 
 
 She proudly asserts a right. 
 Then watch o'er her, Saint Francisco ; 
 
 Keep thy homonyme secure 
 From each of Volcan's mighty throws- 
 
 To time's end may she endure. 
 
AN ODE. 75 
 
 AN ODE. 
 
 DEDICATED TO H. S., ESQ. 
 
 Our thoughts are of the ancient land, 
 
 Far away across the sea; 
 Where the nightingale in the silv'ry night 
 
 Fills the woods with melody ;. 
 Where the glow-worm in the dewy grass 
 
 Lights up its golden lamp ; 
 And the wild rosebush in blossom 
 
 Gives its fragrance to the camp ; 
 And rabbits on the cowslip slopes 
 
 Crouch low in dreamy sleep; 
 And nimble-footed fallow deer 
 
 Recline where the willows weep. 
 And that is in the ancient land, 
 
76 AN ODE. 
 
 Far away, across the sea : 
 Where Hesperian zephyrs in the vale 
 
 Rustle the greenwood tree. 
 And this is the land of the luscious grape, 
 
 Where the rich wine floweth free, 
 And bringeth a happy, mellow glow, 
 
 As we drink right merrily ; 
 And feel so free, and feel so free. 
 
 None more merry than we. 
 And we sing old songs of the ancient land, 
 
 Of the land across the sea : 
 Songs of bright youth and happiness, 
 
 And none more merry than we. 
 Then here's to the land, the ancient land. 
 
 Far away across the sea ; 
 Dear 's each spot, and in country's love 
 
 Right firmly tied are we. 
 Our thoughts are of the ancient land. 
 
 Of the land across the sea ; 
 
AN ODE. 77 
 
 Of verdant hills and tranquil shades 
 
 Where we linger'd leisurely ; 
 Of the cot wherein we first knew light 
 
 And a simple daily life ; 
 Of a mother's love, a father's heart, 
 
 That eased each petty strife. 
 And how we dream of olden things, 
 
 No matter what they be ; 
 The bucket at the draw-well set, 
 
 Or perhaps some toy we see. 
 And we dream, dream, dream of olden times 
 
 In the land that's o'er the sea ; 
 Of the plank thrown o'er the gurgling stream 
 
 Rolling on merrily. 
 And in happy hours we linger'd there, 
 
 And listened to its theme, 
 And watch'd the swallows skim its breast 
 
 When eve began to gleam. 
 
78 AN ODE. 
 
 Then here's to the land, the ancient land, 
 
 Far away across the sea : 
 To the right good old Saxon land, 
 
 For of Saxon blood are we. 
 
 Ah, ah, that dear old Saxon land 
 
 Lives in the memory ; 
 No matter what be our lot in life — 
 
 Riches or poverty. 
 And now a description we will give 
 
 Of a little village, fair. 
 Which is part and parcel of our life. 
 
 And our thoughts are often there : 
 The cock's shrill voice announces day 
 
 Upon the wings of time. 
 And wood and copse with music ring 
 
 Beneath the bright sunshine. 
 In verdure clad are the noble trees 
 
AN ODE. 79 
 
 Rustling in the balmy air, 
 For now is the month of May come in, 
 
 And nature looketh fair ; 
 And Flora upon the passing breeze 
 
 The sweetest fragrance flings, 
 And, flying about from flow'r to flow'r, 
 
 Butterflies display their wings. 
 From the great elm trees, in the old churchyard, 
 
 The caw of the rook is heard ; 
 And O ! that is a welcome sound 
 
 From noisy village bird. 
 The roses are blushing with early dew, 
 
 Telling of love from the sky ] 
 And so are the herbs that lift their heads 
 
 Beneath the brambles high. 
 And in the vales the lambkins bleat, 
 
 And frisk and skip and play; 
 And the little gracefully winding stream 
 
 Goes purling on alway : 
 
8o AN ODE. 
 
 Now thro' braes coursing, now thro' meads 
 
 Babbling right merrily ; 
 And now thro' a cultivated spot — 
 
 A charming sight to see ; 
 For sweet lilies blow and roses bloom, 
 
 And the sweet-briar trees. 
 With honeysuckles and lilacs grow, 
 
 And fragrance give the breeze. 
 'T was by that stream when we were lads 
 
 We used, with hearts' delight, 
 To softly steal with staff and wire 
 
 To catch the wary pike ; 
 And where we used, with stockings oft, 
 
 To spatter and to play, 
 And take bulrushes, forget-me-nots, 
 
 When 't was a holiday. 
 And now is the welcome Maying day, 
 
 When tott'ring age is young, 
 
And festivities are now begun 
 
 By the joyous village throng 
 As some young swain with thrilling glee, 
 
 Upon the village green, 
 Leads off the merry rustic dance 
 
 With the blushing young May-Queen. 
 And young lovers 'round the Maying pole 
 
 Sing and dance with glee, 
 And their merry voices o'er the hills 
 
 Ring again with melody. 
 And the sound comes o'er the bright green lanes 
 
 As tho' on zephyr's wing 
 Pan rode, and from a green reed pipe 
 
 The tuneful notes did ring. 
 Look, now, on the herd of bleating kine — 
 
 A pleasant sight to view — 
 Returning home as sinks the sun. 
 
 Their wont the summer thro'. 
 
82 AN ODE. 
 
 And listen now to the old church bell, 
 
 Tolling the ev'ning hour ; 
 And see the gloaming o'er the hills, 
 
 The closed lily flower. 
 The farm-yard fowls are gone to roost 
 
 High in the old oak tree ; 
 The lab'rer wends his weary way 
 
 To his heart's pure canopy; 
 His cheerful home of peasant life. 
 
 Happier than the halls, 
 Illum'd with frescoes, works of art, 
 
 And gold-gilt on the walls. 
 But now we near the tottering pile 
 
 Where the yew trees bend. 
 The ivy-clad old Gothic church 
 
 Where to God we used to send 
 Our simple prayers in childhood's days, 
 
 Free from a sinful thought. 
 
AN ODE. 83 
 
 And listen to the Rector's voice 
 
 Urging us do as we ought. 
 And there we look on the same sun-dial 
 
 That told of passing hours 
 In that good old merry, merry time, 
 
 When youthful years were ours. 
 And now we stumble near to a grave. 
 
 And sad at heart are we ; 
 For Oh ! 't is a tender mother's grave, 
 
 A loving mother, she. 
 And in her own she'd take our hands, 
 
 And trudge a long, long way. 
 Unto this dear old Gothic church. 
 
 And sweet were the words she'd say. 
 Oh, say not manliness is gone 
 
 When heartfelt tears will flow 
 Adown the noblest, manliest face, 
 
 At such a sign of woe. 
 
84 • AN ODE. 
 
 But Oh, say the truest manliness 
 
 Is by such act displayed j 
 For Oh, 'tis but an honest man 
 
 Who has such love obey'd. 
 Come, take courage, courage by this tale. 
 
 Told by the churchyard sod. 
 And prosper, fearing not to fail — 
 
 Above, there is a God 
 That watches o'er each one of us, 
 
 No matter who we be ; 
 No matter where, upon this earth, 
 
 If honest men are we. 
 Then adieu ! to that old Saxon land, 
 
 Away across the sea ; 
 To that much lov'd old Saxon land, 
 
 For of Saxon blood are we. 
 
AMONG THE LILIES. §5 
 
 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 She sleeps ! sweet sleep ! down among the lilies, 
 
 AVhere she often strayed in summer hours 
 
 Of life, to view the consecrated sod^ 
 
 Sheltered by the branches of the yew ; 
 
 And when her soul stood spell-bound before thought. 
 
 The companion of silence that reign'd around, 
 
 And pictures of an elysian sphere 
 
 Came 'fore her gentle spirit, then she prayed 
 
 That she might sleep among the royal flowers. 
 
 She sleeps ! sweet sleep ! down among the lilies. 
 As pure, she sleeps in peace. Brief was the time 
 She passed on this transitory stage. 
 
 (UNIVERSITY, 
 
^ 
 
 S6 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 She sleeps ! sweet sleep ! down among the lilies. 
 
 The voice we knew is gone ; she sleeps ! sweet sleep ! 
 
 The smile she wore is gone ; she sleeps ! sweet sleep ! 
 
 The vesper bell proclaims the time of prayer ; 
 
 Chaste virgins bend before religion's shrines, 
 
 And still she sleeps, down among the lilies. 
 
 The pet dove pines and coos, and still she sleeps. 
 
 Mystery, that maketh angels of the good, 
 
 In thy embrace she sleeps, among the lilies. 
 
 Then why should sadness live within the soul ? 
 
 Why should the heart to weary sorrow bend? 
 
 Why should the night, when glow-worms light the gloom 
 
 Be passed o'er in dismal sighs and tears? 
 
 And when brightly the vigil star doth shine, 
 
 And whisper of the flower that fadeth not. 
 
 She sleeps ! sweet sleep ! down among the lilies, 
 And the soft zephyr plays the fragrant bells, 
 
AMONG THE LILIES. . 87 
 
 And the little bee buzzes round the flowers. 
 
 The robin chirps, and rests upon the stone 
 
 Which bears the name of her that sleeps, that sleep 
 
 To which we all descend. She sleeps ! sweet sleep ! 
 
 And nought remains but that stone's epitaph 
 
 To tell that she who sleeps was pure and good, 
 
 Except the void within the hearts that linger 
 
 Upon the journey, to the shore far off. 
 
 Where will be met those who already sleep 
 
 The sleep of peace, down among the lilies. 
 
CONTENT. 
 
 CONTENT. 
 
 A gurgling rill, with mangroves bending o'er ; 
 A mossy glade, a bright and tranquil shore. 
 Where, 'neath the stately palm trees' shade, I'd lay 
 In sweet repose and chase dull thoughts away; — 
 But no ! when there, alas ! still on to press 
 Would be my aim, for time would bring distress. 
 To be familiar, is oft to cherish not 
 Pleasure, friendship, riches, whate'er our lot. 
 Something attain'd, still wishing, on we press 
 Towards some other object, life to bless. 
 In vain we journey on, and seek to find 
 In art or science, lasting peace of mind. 
 
 A cup of water — Oh ! I ask no more ; 
 Save me ! I would not die upon this shore ; 
 
CONTENT. 89 
 
 Bleak and unfriendly tho' it be to me, 
 
 I'd wish to live, from death's cold hand be free. 
 
 Aid me to live : I then content shall gain — 
 
 Nought else on earth shall e'er my steps detain. 
 
 Ah ! Ah ! sweet life is by my wish decreed, 
 
 I journey on, from struggling trouble freed, 
 
 And know the ease the gold of life will bring, 
 
 Yet discontent doth ever show its sting. 
 
 Even tho' we live in hope's fair domain. 
 
 And tho' our lot be cast in earth's bright train. 
 
 Life knows not peace ; a something comes to mar 
 
 The cherish'd pleasures, and keep us far 
 
 From contentment, which oft is found enshrin'd 
 
 In peasant's heart, to humble fate resign'd. 
 
 Gold ne'er can buy content, nor bring repose. 
 
 Nor give sweet herbs to soothe our painful woes; 
 
 By love alone can sweet content be found 
 
 To bear us treasures, scatter myrtles round. 
 
90 THE DYING SWAN. 
 
 THE DYING SWAN. 
 
 The mountain's peak is hid in gloom, 
 
 And all is peaceful there; 
 'Tis early morn, and hawthorn bloom 
 
 Gives fragrance to the air, 
 And scattered o'er the mountain's breast, 
 In groups the flocks and herds take rest. 
 
 The flowers bend with crystal dew, 
 
 And dew-white is the grass. 
 And by these charms so dear -to view, 
 
 Spring tells of time we pass, 
 And blithely purling thro' the dale, 
 A stream keeps up the wooing tale. 
 
THE DYING SWAN. 9 1 
 
 Tho' peep of day, and yet a star 
 
 Shines from the- eastern sky 
 Upon the stream, 'way from afar 
 
 A snow-white swan sails by. 
 And harigs its head upon its breast, 
 As tho' 't were also seeking rest. 
 
 But see, it bends its neck again 
 
 In graceful, stately curve, 
 And bears its head as tho' 'twould fain 
 
 Time still should be to serve ; — 
 But hear that cry : it is the last. 
 Telling of springs and summers past. 
 
 Right plaintive is that yielding cry. 
 
 As low its head doth bow ; 
 And O ! 't is sweet to hear that cry, 
 
 It seems a dying vow 
 
92 THE DYING SWAN. 
 
 Upon the soft wind borne away, 
 As breaks the orb of coming day. 
 
 The verdant willows seem to weep, 
 The sege and rushes sigh. 
 
 Yet the clear crystal stream so deep 
 Deigns not, a wherefore, ^hy? 
 
 But purls along, despite the cry, 
 
 And leaves the snow-white swan to die. 
 
IN MEMORIAM. 93 
 
 IN MEMORIAM. 
 
 I wandered far away 
 
 And a mother left behind : 
 A fonder, better mother 
 
 A child could never find. 
 I kiss'd her lips and parted : 
 
 I shall ne'er forget her sigh, 
 As she sunk, broken hearted. 
 
 To part with me, her joy. 
 
 When I tore myself away, 
 Oh! I felt that I should die, 
 
 For I knew all pleasure's false, 
 My very soul did sigh. 
 
 *s 
 
94 IN MEMORIAM. 
 
 I gaz'd back on the window 
 And I caught my mother's eye : 
 
 I shall ne'er forget her look 
 Until the day I die. 
 
 Around the cottage window 
 
 The most fair of roses grew : 
 In the midst of them her face 
 
 Shone forth in brighter hue, 
 And on my afflicted soul 
 
 It quickly became engrav'd, 
 And I see it when with sorrow 
 
 My heart is sore enslav'd. 
 
 A wreath of great woe and joy 
 Came borne on the wings of time : 
 
 Angels took her soul away, 
 She came and spoke to mine. 
 
IN MEMORIAM. 95 
 
 Ah ! my soul was sorely struck, 
 A sword had pierced my breast, 
 
 But footprints she had left me, 
 To ease and give me rest 
 
 She was my earliest love. 
 
 And she taught my heart to pray; 
 She spoke to me of flowers 
 
 That bloomed by the way; 
 She spoke of lilies, roses. 
 
 And other flowers as fair. 
 Of mother's love eternal. 
 
 With which none can compare. 
 
96 A TRUE HEART. 
 
 A TRUE HEART. 
 
 When away, far away 
 
 From her who ever lov'd thee, 
 Whatever be thy future, 
 
 She never can forget; 
 And when the prayer-time comes, 
 
 In the morning and the evening, 
 She'll call upon her Maker 
 
 Thee ever to protect. 
 
 Tho' away, far away, 
 
 At all times thou'lt be with her. 
 And thy well known shadow'U beam 
 
 In the chamber at eve ; 
 
A TRUE HEART. 97 
 
 And befall thee whatever may 
 
 Upon life's troubled ocean, 
 'T is the fond heart of a mother, 
 
 Which never can deceive. 
 
gS THE LAY OF A WEARY HEART. 
 
 THE LAY OF A WEARY HEART. 
 
 The winter is dismal and cold, 
 
 My heart in its loneliness sad ; 
 My body is weary and old, 
 
 Gone are the friends that made me glad. 
 I look out on the stream with hope, 
 
 And wish that the boatman were near 
 With his muffled oar and his boat, 
 
 To bear me to happier sphere. 
 
 The world's no attraction for me. 
 Ambition's a thing of the past ; 
 
 Each heart's ever cold unto me ; 
 I wish for the love that will last. 
 
THE LAY OF A WEARY HEART. 99 
 
 I was once full of youth and glee, 
 
 And now I am weary and old ; 
 Death alone has its charms for me, 
 
 And I wish that my tale were told. 
 
 I have clothed my soul in her best, 
 
 I have sorrow for every sin, 
 I anxiously wait with the bless'd 
 
 For the joys of home to begin. 
 -God's love consoleth my sorrow. 
 
 Now that I am weary and worn ; 
 My heart's full of hope for the morrow. 
 
 When my soul will depart for the bourne. 
 
 Weave me a chaplet of flowers 
 
 For my grave when I sleep in peace ; 
 
 Weave it of those border flowers, 
 The bright flowers of Marguerite. 
 
THE LAY OF A WEARY HEART. 
 
 Weave the chaplet quickly I pray, 
 For the night is fast coming on; 
 
 Angels' footsteps are coming this way, 
 And my day will be past ^nd gone. 
 
 I shall soon be far from the stage, 
 
 And removed from those I've long known ; 
 Fierce winter comes on like old age. 
 
 For the swallows away have flown. 
 Stars of heaven will still shine on. 
 
 And flowers of the field still bloom. 
 When I, child of time, shall be gone 
 
 Unto my dreary, earthly tomb. 
 
 Place the chaplet near to my bed, 
 I'd look on the pearls 'mong flowers ; 
 
 An angel's hand rests on my head — 
 Adieu ! adieu ! to the flowers. 
 
THE LAY OF A WEARY HEART. 
 
 Fast Other forms clothed in white 
 Are taking the places of friends ; 
 
 My soul is awaking to light, 
 
 To God and His love she ascends. 
 
 The journey is done, life is o'er. 
 
 The last rose of summer has blown ; 
 The soul that was bound to the shore, 
 
 Unto happier spheres has flown. 
 The chaplet goes too, to the grave. 
 
 Emblematic of life are the flowers ; 
 They fade, and no power can save, 
 
 A mystery is life, and flowers. 
 
I02 LINES ON THE DEATH OF A LADY. 
 
 LINES ON THE DEATH OF A LADY. 
 
 The whine of a hound doth fall, 
 
 And forebode ill 
 To the inmates o' the hall 
 
 When night is still. 
 The lord of the house has grief, 
 Angels can give relief; 
 The life of one is brief, 
 - It is God's will. 
 
 The tall trees rock and sigh, 
 
 A storm goes by, 
 Clouds gather in the sky : 
 
 They say she'll die. 
 
LINES ON THE DEATH OF A LADY. I03 
 
 The willows plaintive cry, 
 The birds sing mournfully, 
 Altho' a soul will fly 
 To God on high. 
 
 A fair lady goes to-day 
 
 To the cold tomb : 
 Oh ! 'tis a sad, sad lay, 
 
 Of such deep gloom : 
 Orphans are left behind. 
 Their wails 're borne on the wind ; 
 A strong man weeps, to find 
 
 Her gone so soon. 
 
 In gloom 's the stately hall. 
 
 Its bright light gone : 
 Hardly does footstep fall 
 
 Where her love shone. 
 
I04 LINES ON THE DEATH OF A LADY. 
 
 Sad is each inmate there, 
 For her who was so dear, 
 And heartfelt is each tear : 
 A pure soul gone. 
 
 A Talbot's, Howard's name 
 
 This lady bore. 
 Known on the scroll of fame 
 
 The wide world o'er. 
 • And she of noble race. 
 
 E'er fill'd with sweetest grace 
 A goodly Christian's place, 
 
 With God's own poor. 
 
 Deep sorrow 's in each heart 
 
 Both far and near : 
 It is hard thus to part 
 
 With one so dear. 
 
LINES ON THE DEATH OF A LADY. I05 
 
 Light of each lowly home, 
 Hear how they sob, and moan 
 The loss of her, gone home 
 To Him so dear. 
 
 As friend, as mother, wife, 
 
 Her love will live ; 
 Holy was her short life : 
 
 Tho' dead she'll live 
 With husband, poor, each child. 
 That saintly love so mild, 
 AVhich on them ever smiFd, 
 
 Will always live. ^ 
 
 Flower of this earth she, 
 
 Fragrant and rare, 
 Gone in her bloom to be 
 
 Flower more fair. 
 
Io6 LINES ON THE DEATH OF A LADY. 
 
 Borne in an angel's breast, 
 Unto the realms of rest, 
 To bloom with flowers bless'd. 
 Love's wreath to wear. 
 
THE LOST FLOWER. I07 
 
 THE LOST FLOWER. 
 
 Have ye seen my flower that is gone, 
 My once fragrant and spotless flower, 
 
 Which bloomed the admired of all 
 
 'Neath the shades of this sylvan bower ? 
 
 My flower I loved : it was fair. 
 
 It was always the pride of my heart ; 
 
 But nought is for me now but despair, 
 Since my flower and I are apart. 
 
 Twas the gem 'mid the fairest of flowers, 
 And to me it was ever so dear. 
 
 I am sad, for I've wearisome hours 
 
 To pass o'er with my sighs and my tears. 
 
Io8 ~ THE LOST FLOWER. 
 
 Could that flower e'er be mine again, 
 
 I should quickly have sweet peace of mind. 
 
 Could wealth bring back what has been ta'en, 
 I would give it, my flower to find. 
 
 But, alas for me ! hope I have none 
 To regain my lost flower once more : 
 
 And the end would be welcome to come. 
 For I'm weary and wish for the shore. 
 
A TALE. 109 
 
 A TALE. 
 
 The ev'ning shades were falling fast: 
 I stood beside a linden tree, 
 And wish'd the day could be my last, 
 If from remorse I could be free. 
 Ah ! sad is life when conscience stings, 
 And wafts a tempest o'er the brain ; 
 The heart is bursting ; terror rings 
 In leaf, in footstep o'er the plain. 
 As flies the hart before the foe. 
 The weary seeks release from woe. 
 I walk'd a path where flowers grew. 
 Where all was brightness, all was joy. 
 Where mildest zephyrs ever blew 
 To fan the cheek, to ease each sigh. 
 
 / 
 
no A TALE. 
 
 I knew of life, I knew of wrong, 
 Of all my tutor'd mind could speak. 
 Alas ! the tempter came and stung, 
 And left remorse, with no relief. 
 
 With charms he won my soul to stray 
 Down dreary paths, obscure from day. 
 I laid me on a couch of down, 
 Pleasures my fortune could obey. 
 Alive to virtue, but yet I 'd frown 
 At religion's charm. I 'd lost .its sway : 
 The tempter came ; I knew not peace ; 
 The modest fear I knew had past : 
 I rous'd me up, and sought release : 
 The chains were l3roke that bound me fast. 
 In luxury my lot is cast, 
 But innocence is in the past. 
 I remember when a child of grace 
 How good I was, how loving, too. 
 
A TALE. 
 
 When I'd look on that mother's face 
 Who gave my heart the love it knew. 
 I then had wishes — who has not ^ 
 To be an angel — childish thought ; 
 Look back, and ye have not forgot, 
 This self-same station ye have sought. 
 
 If ye were in religion's way 
 
 Brought up, from childhood's early day. 
 O, would I had my mother near, 
 To speak to me as she would speak. 
 To ease my heart, to wipe the tear 
 That often trickles down my cheek 
 When J look back upon the past. 
 And see my home in peaceful dell, 
 And see the little village church. 
 Where, on my little knees, I fell. 
 
 And pray'd with heart and soul sincere. 
 
 For suff 'ring people far and near. 
 
112 A TALE. 
 
 Ah ! I remember, and 'tis sweet 
 To think upon the time gone by : 
 To think of those whom I shall meet, 
 Tho' doom'd for time on earth to sigh. 
 .^^; For yes ! there's hope ; the flowers meek 
 Proclaim to me another spring. 
 And late and early thus I seek 
 To send my love on angel's wing ; 
 'And for the past I now atone. 
 And bear all ills for spring alone. 
 Oh ! for those days gone to the tomb. 
 To which my fancy oft doth tend. 
 And see a child from out this gloom, • 
 Without the mask the world doth lend ; 
 I see a child in virgin's robe 
 Approach • the cup, partake its food ; 
 I see where grace has its abode. 
 Where dwells that innocence so good : 
 
A TALE. 1 13 
 
 Sweet are the waters that e'er flow, 
 Drink, and know their worth below. 
 I see a little village spire 
 Towering o'er the woodland round : 
 It gives my heart a cheer, as higher 
 My soul doth soar, where lost are found ; 
 I see the graves, the grass is green 
 Where forefathers o' the village sleep ; 
 I see her grave — she once was Queen 
 Of May — my sister ! How I weep. 
 As now I see a mother's grave, 
 And hope for mercy, tho' I 've stray'd, 
 
 m 
 
114 ADIEU. 
 
 ADIEU. 
 
 Adieu ! O, what a word : 
 Is it real? Is the parting 
 To meet again ? Yes ! 't must be, 
 
 When love is everlasting. 
 
 Adieu ! dry up those tears, 
 Cheer up from sadness — 
 A pierced heart, such is life, 
 
 But hope, love, for gladness. 
 
 Adieu ! come storm or calm 
 Across life's great ocean. 
 Love that's pure will ever ride 
 
 Unchanged by the motion. 
 
TO A LOVED ONE. II5 
 
 TO A LOVED ONE. 
 
 I THINK of thee when morning dawns, 
 When fades the light of day, 
 
 I dream of thee in the lonely night, 
 Thy heart is e'er my stay. 
 
 Thy angel's face is ever near. 
 
 To speak of hope to me, 
 I often sigh and drop a tear 
 
 From ardent love for thee. 
 
 To think of thee 's the only joy 
 
 Upon this earth for me : 
 Thy loving face, thy simple smile. 
 
 Will always live with me. 
 
Il6 TO A LOVED ONE. 
 
 No tongue can speak the pow'r of love 
 When heart to heart has spoke; 
 
 No pen can write, no words can tell 
 The joys, the woes awoke. 
 
 The heart that's lov'd is ne'er forgot 
 Tho' time and fates invade, 
 
 Tho' fortune change, and seas us part, 
 Tho' all is gloom and shade. 
 
AT PARTING. ll^ 
 
 AT PARTING. 
 
 O YES ! I'll e'er remember thee 
 As long as time shall be with me ; 
 I'll see thy face in ev'ry flow'r, 
 And pray for thee at ev'ning hour. 
 
 And when in slumber I am laid, 
 For thee I ne'er shall be afraid, 
 For there is One who guardeth thee. 
 And keepeth thee from dangers free. 
 
 When sheds the sun his brilliant light, 
 And all around 's supernal bright, 
 I'll give thee thought tho' far away. 
 And give a thought to bygone day. 
 
 f ^^ OP THE ^ 
 
 (TJNIVERSlTTj 
 
Il8 AT PARTING. 
 
 AVhen light is gone to other shore 
 I'll think of thee, thy own sweet lore, 
 And cherish thee in fervent heart, 
 'Till from this life, and thee, I part. 
 
THE LAST LILY. II9 
 
 THE LAST LILY. 
 
 The bright days of summer are past, 
 And my sisters are gone to the tomb, 
 
 The sharp frost of winter is come. 
 And with it a sorrowful gloom. 
 
 I have bloom'd the admir'd of all, 
 And fragrance IVe cast on the air. 
 
 But now nipping frost comes to wither 
 My charms and my beauty so rare. 
 
 Royal flower I am : I was fair. 
 
 And the pride of the landscape was I ; 
 
 Now my leaves are all drooping to fade. 
 And meekly I bow me to die. 
 
I20 THE LAST LILY. 
 
 Yesterday I was comely to see, 
 
 The brightest and blithest of flow'rs : 
 
 But ah ! now I'm cast down, poor me, 
 Past revival from sunshine and show'rs. 
 
 I am weak, and I'm fast fading out. 
 My life's taper 's declining from, sight ; 
 
 Is it true ? can it be that I'm going 
 From those whom I used to delight? 
 
TREASURED THOUGHTS. 
 
 TREASURED THOUGHTS. 
 
 Dear is the hand, 
 And dear the heart 
 Of her, tho' far away, 
 And dearer still when the echo falls 
 Of the heart's sad, sad lay. 
 
 Dear is the smile. 
 And dear the face 
 Of her I lov'd full soon. 
 And dearer still, when the glow-worm's lamp 
 Lights up the ev'ning gloom. 
 
 Dear is the touch. 
 And dear the voice 
 
TREASURED THOUGHTS. 
 
 Of her who strung the lyre, . 
 And dearer still, when the full pale moon 
 Reflects the orb of fire. 
 
 Dear is my love, 
 And dear my thoughts. 
 Such that no tongue can tell. 
 And dearer still, when evening sheds 
 Its ray across the dell. 
 
 Dear is the path, 
 And dear the fields 
 O'er which we ofttimes stray'd, 
 And dearer still when thoughts come o'er 
 My soul, when peace is made. 
 
 Dear is the night. 
 And dear the day, 
 
TREASURED THOUGHTS. - 1 23 
 
 Tho' from her I did fly, 
 And dearer still when faith tells me 
 I shall meet her, by and by. 
 
124 LAYS OF GREECE. 
 
 LAYS OF GREECE. 
 
 MYTILENE. 
 
 Calm is the air; and the vestal moon 
 
 Glitters like a diamond stream 
 Upon the glassy sea of splendor 
 
 Where is the Isle of Mytilene. 
 Isle of song-birds ; isle of roses ; 
 
 Isle of the myrtle, ever green ; 
 Isle of Flora's sweetest posies ; 
 
 Isle where richest fruits are seen. 
 In thy woodland, lays of Philomel 
 
 Ravish and entrance the heart; 
 Life is weary ; senses slumber ; 
 
 Would the spirit could depart 
 
LAYS OF GREECE. 1 25 
 
 Unto those scenes, where bliss is lasting; 
 
 Where the sacred altars gleam 
 Rays of light, that seem gold blazing ; 
 
 Where innocence and virtue beam. 
 Where lays of Philomel are surpassed. 
 
 And the sweetest music's swell 
 Is heard for ever and for ever ; 
 
 Where 's unknown the word Farewell ! 
 Isle of Mytilene : flower-spangl'd. 
 
 Where cooling streams of water flow ; 
 Isle of Mytilene : laurel girdl'd, 
 
 O'er which softest zephyrs blow. 
 Isle of Mytilene : flower-spangl'd ; 
 
 Fresh from streams of morning dew : - 
 Blooming roses ; clust'ring roses — 
 
 Philomel's pride — bright scenes renew. 
 And veil from o'er the mind is lifted ; 
 
 Reason breaks the binding chain 
 
126 LAYS OF GREECE. 
 
 That weigh'd it down to gloom and darkness, 
 
 Joyfulness is come again. 
 Isle of Mytilene : flower-spangl'd, 
 
 In thy grottoes, sweet repose ; . 
 In thy woodland, happy moments, 
 
 There a freshening fountain flows. 
 
 PARIS. 
 
 The head of Priam's son is drooping 
 
 As his bark glides o'er the sea; 
 A burning, harrowing pain is reigning — 
 
 His heart has lost its ecstasy. 
 For the star — of light self-giving — 
 
 That rays diffused in his breast, 
 Is far away across the water : 
 
 Whence his spirit seeketh rest 
 From flashing gloom, and dark forebodings 
 
 That the vow unto gods spoke 
 
LAYS OF GREECE. ( TJ N I V E ^^I TV 
 
 Will, 'fore burning passions struggle, 
 
 And alas ! it may be broke. 
 A "blazing torch," a weakly mortal 
 
 To the soft'ning power of love : 
 He fell — as old man in his dotage — 
 
 And but power from above 
 Could from evil thoughts release him. 
 
 Allay the burning of the heart. 
 And save him from the direful curses 
 Inflicted by foul passion's dart. 
 
 O list! unstudied words 're flowing 
 
 From a queen, upon whose brow 
 Beauty reigns, and 'fore eyes glowing, 
 
 Priam's son is conquer'd now. 
 And CEnone — pure and lovely, 
 
 Who to Paris gave delight — 
 Is cruelly ignor'd, deserted, 
 
 Now she is away from sight. 
 
128 LAYS OF GREECE. 
 
 Helen, wife of Menelaus, 
 
 With the recreant Paris flies ; 
 But from lust's demoniac passion 
 
 Stinging vipers quickly rise, 
 And nestle in the breast once faithful 
 
 Unto (Enone, its bride : 
 Devouring peace and staying slumber, 
 
 Harrowing memory beside. 
 
 Then Paris sheathe thy sword, blood-stained; 
 
 Let it lie until it rust; 
 Thy ills to hearts have brought destruction ; 
 
 Hosts are trampled in the dust. 
 And eyes that were with pure love glowing ; 
 
 Lips that utter'd love's o'erflow ; 
 Hands that trembled as they touched 
 
 Others lov'd, are now laid low. 
 Carnage of hearts is perpetrated 
 
 For thy lustful passions' fame ; 
 
LAYS OF GREECE. 1 29 
 
 Then hang thy head for hearts' strings broken, 
 Sob and weep for very shame. 
 
 But soon the wanton's beauty fadeth, 
 
 She for Paris hath no charm; 
 The cank'ring worm that gnaw'd his vitals 
 
 Arous'd his blood to shame's alarm ; 
 And poor GEnone, so forgiving, 
 
 Comes at last to soothe his brow 
 With odors from the mountain Ida; 
 
 But too late — he's fallen now. 
 For Graecia's sons are rous'd in battle; 
 
 And their clashing weapons glare. 
 As on they rush and slay the Trojans, 
 
 Whose cries for mercy rend the air. 
 
 Troilus killed in the warfare. 
 Words of the oracles were true : 
 
130 LAYS OF GREECE. 
 
 Troas, the mighty, is defeated, 
 Trojans weep the country thro'. 
 
 Victory ! the wrong 's avenged ; 
 Sons of Greece return to share 
 
 The laurels of their noble conquest, 
 And cries of triumph rend the air. 
 
 GR^CIA. 
 
 An eagle from its nest arising 
 
 Leaves its young in sweet repose, 
 And soars above the mountain's summit. 
 
 Proudly vaunting, daring foes. 
 Till lured on to bloody battle 
 
 It skims the air with stately flight. 
 And falls before a foe, defeated — 
 
 Dreadful change, a woful sight. 
 The strains of music from the eagless 
 
 Cease to make love's current flow : 
 
LAYS OF GREECE. 131 
 
 For nought is heard but painful discord, 
 
 With fire the eye has ceas'd to glow ; 
 And when at last, now freed from bondage. 
 
 Trembling, it is fill'd with dread ; 
 For hope is gone, its life is blighted ; 
 
 And, alas ! its valor 's dead. 
 O, Graecia ! once noble, mighty ! 
 
 The shepherd with his pipes hath fled ; 
 Fawns no longer by thy waters ; 
 
 The chieftain low hath bow'd his head. 
 Thy ancient clashing sword of battle ; 
 
 Coat of mail, and pond'rous shield ; 
 Thy chieftains fill'd with greatest valor ; 
 
 But in name are now reveal'd. 
 And children weep upon thy bosom ; 
 
 Fill'd with woe, they thee admire ; 
 O, Graecia ! of fame extended. 
 
 Love for thee their hearts inspire. 
 
132 MARIANNE. 
 
 MARIANNE. 
 
 In coming up the stream to-night, 
 When moonbeams will be glitt'ring bright, 
 My bark is 'neath the myrtle tree, 
 I 'wait the hour to come to thee, 
 
 Marianne ! 
 
 Up the stream I will quickly glide, 
 Favor'd by the inflowing tide ; 
 Be at the flood, at the osier bed. 
 Seraphs will hover 'round thy head, 
 
 Marianne ! 
 
 Step in my bark, and on we'll go 
 
 With the clear stream where zephyrs blow; 
 
MARIANNE. 1 33 
 
 We '11 pass the amaranthine bow'rs, 
 And taste the fragrance of the flow'rs, 
 
 Marianne ! 
 
 Sweet Philomela's strains will flow, 
 And cheer the night with a loud echo ; 
 Miss not the hour, I thee implore, 
 Once gone past it will come no more, 
 
 Marianne ! 
 * 
 And when the moonbeams will decline, 
 Hope shall be ours for bright sunshine. 
 Which Cometh after break of day. 
 When the blithe sky-lark sings its lay, 
 
 Marianne ! 
 
 Once in my bark, O trust my arm. 
 That will always shield thee from harm ; 
 7 
 
134 MARIANNE. 
 
 My heart from thee shall never roam, 
 But guide thy soul tho' billows foam, 
 
 Marianne ! 
 
THE BRIDAL. 135 
 
 THE BRIDAL. 
 
 Hark ! the convent bell is tolling, 
 Heaven is smiling sweetly down, 
 
 For this morn another virgin 
 Comes to win celestial crown. 
 
 First her advent 'mongst the sisters 
 Was to try her spirit's grace, 
 
 Whether thro' her perseverance 
 She might take a sister's place. 
 
 Now in robes of earthly bridal, 
 See ! she nears the altar high, 
 
 Crown'd with pure and spotless lilies. 
 Innocence to typify. 
 
136 THE BRIDAL. 
 
 Now she casts herself before it, 
 Raising heart and soul above, 
 
 Now she makes her adoration, 
 Leaving earth and earthly love. 
 
 Now the work is joy and gladness, 
 Gladness to her inward heart, 
 
 Yet she weeps hot tears of sadness 
 From her parents kind to part. 
 
 See her now in robes still bridal, 
 Happy sight it is to see. 
 
 For these robes are of the convent. 
 Bride of heaven now is she. 
 < 
 
 Doing works of holy kindness, 
 Lov'd alike by rich and poor. 
 
 Practicing the holy virtues, 
 Working out salvation sure. 
 
THE BRIDAL. 137 
 
 After many spring times over, 
 
 After many toilsome days, 
 After many summer's quiet, 
 
 God's own voice her soul obeys. 
 
 In the convent's quiet garden 
 
 Peacefully her form is laid ; 
 O'er her head are lilies blooming, 
 
 Neath the cross' holy shade. 
 
 Frequently the sisters visit, 
 
 On her grave bright flowers to lay, 
 
 Often pausing for a moment 
 Ora pro nobis there to say. 
 
 Thus an end to earth's best flowers. 
 
 Thus the lily and the rose. 
 Bud and blossom, fade and wither ; 
 
 Thus the sweetest life will close. 
 
138 BEATRICE. 
 
 BEATRICE. 
 
 I. 
 
 Where the purple heather glows, 
 Where the purling streamlet flows 
 By the tow'ring rocky height, 
 Where the falcon wings its flight, 
 Where the bee in flow'ry dell 
 Hummeth as a light-ton'd bell, 
 Where the sycamores branch across 
 The ever tranquil glassy fosse. 
 Where the op'ning roses glow, 
 As the Lord of Light, below 
 The ancient old castle wall. 
 Lets his golden lustre fall : 
 
BEATRICE. 139 
 
 There dark sorrow 's flung aside, 
 And the soul upon the tide 
 Of happiness, serenely lies. 
 And in sweet accent, to the skies 
 Uplifts her grateful voice in bliss. 
 For repose so sweet as this. 
 
 II. 
 Down beneath a green willow tree 
 There sat a maiden fair to see. 
 And listened to a gurgling stream 
 Music giving ; 'twas seeming dream ; 
 Violets pearl'd with drops of rain, 
 Brought unto her the wish again 
 To look upon the noble face 
 That won her heart with manly grace ; 
 Willow leaves above were weeping, 
 And her eyes their vigil keeping, • 
 
1 40 BEATRICE. 
 
 As from her heart a thrilling lay 
 Spoke what her fervent soul would say 
 
 Forget me not, tho' from my sight, 
 
 And far away from me ; 
 But think of me with pleasant thought. 
 
 And I'll forget not thee. 
 
 Think of these scenes in beauty bright 
 That used to give thee glee ; 
 
 Think oft of me and bygone days, 
 And I'll forget not thee. 
 
 Think of the time our childish hearts 
 From gloomy doubts were free ; 
 
 Think of our love, our innocence, 
 And I'll forget not thee. 
 
 When a vision o'er the scene 
 Passed, like a hopeful dream, 
 
BEATRICE. 141 
 
 And in the sunny light of day 
 Responded to her ardent lay : 
 
 Thy love is happy, Beatrice, 
 
 Whene'er he thinks of thee ; 
 Be watchful, faithful, Beatrice, 
 
 His thoughts are oft of thee. 
 
 Thou'lt see him shortly, Beatrice, 
 
 He will return to thee ; 
 When trees will blossom, Beatrice, 
 
 He will come back to thee. 
 
 A ladye rob'd in purest white 
 It was who sang this lay of light. 
 And Beatrice amid the flowers, 
 Underneath the willow bowers. 
 Startled, arose to leave the scene, 
 In dread that reason, once serene, 
 *7 
 
142 BEATRICE. 
 
 With this beauteous ray had gone 
 
 That she'd been bless'd to look upon. 
 
 But no ! the ladye to her side 
 
 'Gain from the air did quickly glide, 
 
 And O, her face wore such a smile, 
 
 That 'neath it there could be no guile. 
 
 And down upon her knees in prayer 
 
 Before the ladye smiling there, 
 
 In accents sweet the words flow'd free, 
 
 ^'Avel ave! Sainte Marie .f*^ 
 
 And O, her soul had found repose. 
 
 Where the fragrant primrose grows ; 
 
 And back unto her father's hall 
 
 In joy she went, at ev'ning fall, 
 
 When cried retainers in amaze — 
 
 " A miracle ! see glory blaze 
 
 " Its wreath around her beauteous face, 
 
 " O heaven here has shed its grace ! " 
 
BEATRICE. • 143 
 
 And when the trees with blossoms bow'd 
 
 From out the abbey bells aloud 
 
 Came merry peals : a bride was she 
 
 Of Leo, from sunny Britany. 
 
 And where the blessed vision stood, 
 
 On the moss in the vernal wood, 
 
 A crystal fountain freely flows 
 
 And heals the ills of mortal woes ; 
 
 And pilgrims at the fount are found 
 
 Unto this day from the country round. 
 
144 WITH GENTLE LOVE. 
 
 WITH GENTLE LOVE. 
 
 When falls the shade of night, 
 
 And the birds are gone to rest, 
 Ever sighing is my heart 
 By thy love to be caress 'd ; 
 And I think of thee, 
 Love of my heart, 
 With gentle love. 
 
 When comes the morning light, 
 
 And the sunbeams fall to cheer. 
 Enraptured is my heart 
 
 With bright hope of thee, my dear ; 
 And I think of thee, 
 Love of my heart. 
 With gentle love. 
 
WITH GENTLE LOVE. 1 45 
 
 When light of day is past, 
 
 And the tasks of life are done, 
 In clinging to thee my heart 
 Finds the way of peace begun ; 
 And I think of thee. 
 Love of my heart. 
 With gentle love. 
 
146 
 
 STELLA MATUTINA. 
 
 STELLA MATUTINA. 
 
 When waves of the sea 
 In the storm lash high, 
 Across the dark waves 
 Thy shadows e'er fly. 
 
 Light of the darkness, 
 Thou star of the morn. 
 Beacon for wand'rer. 
 When seeking the bourne. 
 
 Star of the future. 
 Thou light of the earth. 
 Gem of the orient 
 To aid the new birth. 
 
STELLA MATUTINA. 1 47 
 
 Stay of the trusty, 
 And light to the soul, 
 Guide unto reason. 
 And then to the goal. 
 
148 REFUGIUM PECCATORUM. 
 
 REFUGIUM PECCATORUM. 
 
 O THOU the star for sinners here, 
 Who from thy place on high doth speak, 
 And bid the fallen suff 'rer near. 
 That unction soothing to the weak. 
 
 O thou the refuge when cast down 
 Of all that lift their hearts to thee ; 
 The mother to the lost child found, 
 Tis comfort, hope, thy love to see. 
 
 O thou for sinners sweet repose, 
 AVhen to thy heart they own their grief; 
 A fallen child, whate'er his state, 
 By seeking thee will find relief 
 
REFUGIUM PECCATORUM. 1 49 
 
 O thou the refuge in distress, 
 It is to thee earth's children fly ; 
 To seek for soothing comfort here, 
 To ease the heart, and ease the sigh. 
 
150 MATER DOLOROSA. 
 
 MATER DOLOROSA. 
 
 FIRST DOLOUR. 
 
 He is ! He came : thy love, thy rest 
 Thy joy is great ; thy heart is fed : 
 
 A prattling infant at thy breast 
 To take its milk as daily bread. 
 
 He came, the curse of Eve to stay. 
 As predestin'd from first of time : 
 
 Rose of Judah, through thee, the ray 
 Of God came down by David's line. 
 
 He came, a son to take thy' love. 
 Such love ! to give back unto thee, 
 
MATER DOLOROSA.^>**''^^^^p!|j:^^l^^> 
 
 (TTKIVERSITT 
 
 Until first sorrow from above '""^^^-^^i'!??!!!^ 
 Came forth to work what was to be. 
 
 He came to thee, thy heart knew joy ; 
 
 But then a something came to mar 
 That love which on thy first-born boy 
 
 Shone forth from thee, thou brightest star. 
 
 When holy Simeon saw thy son. 
 
 He told that sword would pierce thy soul, 
 And then thy sorrows were begun : 
 
 And none but God could thee console. 
 
 He came the strongest ties to break. 
 
 To weigh thee down, and cause thee grief. 
 
 To bring those saddest sorrows forth. 
 Which here on earth ne'er found relief. 
 
 He came ; pity the mother's pain 
 
 Whose heart with this still dwelt above ; 
 
152 MATER DOLOROSA. 
 
 That heart which early thus -had ta'en 
 Deep sorrow equall'd but by love. 
 
 SECOND DOLOUR. 
 
 The magi from the East came forth, 
 And by a star they found the word ; 
 
 They ador'd the lamb, and then return'd 
 Unto their homes, their flocks to herd. 
 
 But Herod mock'd by these wise men, 
 Gave out the crudest decree : 
 
 He tried God's power and might again 
 To set the suff'ring people free. 
 
 Rachel wept : " the great God lives on ; " 
 A piercing sorrow's now begun. 
 
 For Joseph tells they must be gone 
 Far, to Egypt, to save their son. 
 
MATER DOLOROSA. 1 53 
 
 He was ; but still a sorrow flows 
 
 Fresh from that stream of purest love ; 
 
 It flows from purest virgin rose, 
 Filled with grace from God above. 
 
 She pressed her child unto her breast, 
 And wept a tear of heartfelt woe ; 
 
 She pray'd to God, with soul oppress'd, 
 To dry the fount whence sorrows flow. 
 
 Ah ! she lov'd a mother's charm. 
 Her own ; her fondest darling, joy, 
 
 The little lily on her arm. 
 
 Was God, was man, a simple boy. 
 
 Sad was her heart, the sword was there, 
 'Twas driven thro', the blood was drawn ; 
 
 Sorrow liv'd on, and aching fear 
 Came to the heart, to sorrow born. 
 
154 MATER DOLOROSA. 
 
 THIRD DOLOUR. 
 
 The love within the mother's heart 
 
 Could scarcely bear the boy from view ; 
 
 And when at times he'd from her part, 
 Sorrow's sword would pierce anew. 
 
 He grew in wisdom, filFd with grace ; 
 
 But yet he play'd as children do ; 
 He had a pretty, modest face. 
 
 Was child of God the whole day thro'. 
 
 But then the time of feast came on. 
 
 And to Jerusalem she went. 
 The fear of God around her shone. 
 
 But sorrow to her heart was sent. 
 
 When th' return home was being made. 
 The parents for their hope look'd round. 
 
MATER DOLOROSA. I 55 
 
 And saw their child away had stray'd, 
 Yet thought, with others, he'd be found. 
 
 And on they went another day, 
 
 When Oh ! what sorrow rent her heart 
 
 For sad, the child was gone away 
 From father, mother, far apart. 
 
 Back to Jerusalem they went, 
 
 And sought the child in every spot; 
 
 'Neath sorrow the mother's heart bent, 
 Such was the sword, such was her lot. 
 
 At last, after three days away, 
 
 They found in Zion's porch their son ; 
 
 They were in awe at what he'd say, 
 And Mary's sorrow afresh did run. 
 
156 MATER DOLOROSA. 
 
 FOURTH DOLOUR. 
 
 See ! as a sheep he's led away : 
 The multitude looks on to see 
 
 What happens to the lamb this day — 
 The son of man, the great to be. 
 
 A crowd of women follows him ; 
 
 He speaks, and tells them' not lament 
 His loss, but for their children weep : 
 
 What is, is wisdom, God's intent. 
 
 But there was one who sought relief, 
 As from her mother's heart did flow 
 
 A fearful, gushing stream of grief, 
 
 Which mov'd the hardest heart to woe. 
 
 'Twas sword that pierc'd from love of son ; 
 'Twas sword so great that none can tell ; 
 
MATER DOLOROSA. 157 
 
 She look'd, and saw all that was done, 
 And saw when 'neath his cross he fell. 
 
 My child ! my child ! Oh ! sad's my loss ; 
 
 What is the offence thou'st done to man, 
 That thou art taken with that cross ? 
 
 Oh women ! answer if ye can. 
 
 Say ye that wail his dreadful state, 
 My son! my all! the joy of soul ! 
 
 Say on, and ease my sorrows great — 
 Say on, ere time shall o'er me roll. 
 
 Ease my poor heart ; my soul give light ; 
 
 Oh ! ease the terror-stricken part ; 
 Tell me why this tragic scene 
 
 With sorrow came to rend my heart. 
 
 8 
 
158 MATER DOLOROSA. 
 
 FIFTH DOLOUR. 
 
 She wept, and was it not severe 
 To suffer as she must have done ; 
 
 To drag from her heart — worse than tear- 
 That ever much-beloved son? 
 
 She wept, and stood beneath the wood 
 AVhereon her son was crucified ; 
 
 That son so dear, so pure and good. 
 Who for the sins of this world died. 
 
 She wept, and had a mother's grief, 
 As from her heart the tears fell fast ; 
 
 She felt like others no relief, 
 Until from God it came at last. 
 
 She wept, for what a fate, to be 
 Cruelly torn before her eyes; 
 
MATER DOLOROSA. 1 59 
 
 Nailed upon the fatal tree, 
 
 Despite her 'treaties, tears and sighs. 
 
 She wept, that angelic mother. 
 
 Mediatrix for all below ; 
 She who is above all others, 
 
 Consolatrix for children's woe. 
 
 She wept : her son was gone from earth, 
 And by his cross she knelt to pray, 
 
 To soothe that love, which, from his birth, 
 Had brought her joy from day to day. 
 
 SIXTH DOLOUR. 
 
 Now he is not ; my son ! my son ! 
 
 What shall I do ; ^where is my love ? 
 A sword of sorrows now begun 
 
 To pierce afresh a mother's love. 
 
l6o MATER DOLOROSA. 
 
 Thy tender breast, thy face so fair, 
 
 With bloody marks from crown of thorns ; 
 
 Thy broken limbs, thy flowing hair. 
 
 My heart will break ; why was I born ? 
 
 My boy ! my love ! my angel son ! 
 
 Alone I 'm left, I 've sorrow great ; 
 Oh ! come the end, let course be run ; 
 
 Come, heaven, love, and happy state. 
 
 As from this fatal tree of grief 
 
 Into my lap I take my boy. 
 My heart and soul find sweet relief 
 
 To see his face, to heave each sigh. 
 
 This is my son ! my only boy^ ! 
 
 That darling who brought happy day ; 
 'T is he who gave such holy joy. 
 
 That love which sorrow ne'er will stay. 
 
MATER DOLOROSA. l6l 
 
 And now he 's not, and I 'm left here, 
 
 To have my heart with sword pierc'd thro', 
 
 To grieve and drop a mother's tear, 
 To wound my heart and love anew. 
 
 This is his hand I used to hold. 
 
 And these his eyes, his cheeks, his face ; 
 
 And now his heart of love untold 
 Will be for all the human race. 
 
 SEVENTH DOLOUR. 
 
 That heart so full of love, so pure ; 
 
 That heart, so wounded by the sight ; 
 That heart so constant and so sure 
 
 Not to forget love's holy light. 
 
 The body now was taken forth. 
 In linen wrapp'd, and laid apart 
 
1 62 MATER DOLOROSA. 
 
 In the sepulchre in the rock, 
 
 And a sword pierc'd the mother's heart. 
 
 She wept to look upon his brow 
 As he lay dead, and cold as clay, 
 
 Picturing his youth, the words he said : 
 He dies to meet another day. 
 
 Gone ! dead ! Oh ! can it be, my son, 
 That thou art thus before mine eyes ? 
 
 How strikes this sword unto my heart, 
 To pierce it with my tears and sighs. 
 
 Mary wept, for her life was sad. 
 
 When Jesus slept the sleep of peace ; 
 
 She '11 ne'er know joy, she '11 ne'er be glad, 
 Nothing will now the sword release. 
 
 She wept, she sobb'd, as mother does, 
 AVhen from her heart the child is torn ; 
 
MATER DOLOROSA. 1 63 
 
 She was a mother fill'd with love, 
 And thus as mother she did mourn. 
 
 Pure was the heart, and pure the soul, 
 Spotless and fair the virgin star ; 
 
 Sorrows were her's before the goal 
 
 Beam'd o'er her soul from heaven afar. 
 
 MpriTIVERSITY} 
 
164 LINES TO TINTERN ABBEY. 
 
 ^ LINES TO TINTERN ABBEY. 
 
 Hail ! thou noble ruins of the past, 
 
 Old Tintern ! majestic structure. 
 Thou mark of God's holy religion 
 
 Inspir'st awe from stately grandeur. 
 There standeth knight Strongbow in armour ; 
 
 Here Mary, the mother of Jesus ; 
 Bones lie there of nobles departed ; 
 
 Here is the range of the altar 
 Where of old, Cistercian brothers 
 
 Sang praises to God for His mercies. 
 Grand must have been such ceremony. 
 
 With the loud peals of an organ : 
 Giving to the pious souls transport 
 
 To the presence of the Holy ; 
 
LINES TO TINTERN ABBEY. 1 65 
 
 The lowly bowing down in meekness, 
 
 Removed from this world's sorrows ; 
 Good doing and hallowed brothers 
 
 Who gave to the wants of strangers. 
 No simple tombstones tell their names, 
 
 No epitaphs tell their virtues. 
 Alas ! they are gone ; faded away ; 
 
 As flowers do in the hedgerow. 
 Their holy haunts will know them no more, 
 
 Neither cloisters, nor their chapel. 
 Heavy crosses in this life they bore : 
 
 Their reward is crowns of glory 
 In the last, and the happiest home. 
 
 Where it is summer forever. 
 
 List ! and look upon the scene of old 
 That comes as vision before me : 
 
1 66 LINES TO TINTERN ABBEY. 
 
 Hark ! to the tone of the vesper bell 
 
 In the belfry tower swinging. 
 See stragglers come from the cloisters and cells, 
 
 And join in the throng to the chapel, 
 Loudly the heavenly peals come forth 
 
 From the organ, 'tis as incense. 
 Before the altar the brothers serve 
 
 The Mighty God of Israel ; 
 Others in the choir their voices raise : 
 
 Sanctum et terribile nomen ejus. 
 Now aloud they chant, and lowly bow : 
 
 EleisoHy Kyrie Eleison. 
 Now, upon high the Host is raised, 
 
 Tis God Himself in mystery. 
 In adoration they all bow down, 
 
 Unworthy to look upon Him. 
 Listen now to their voices chanting : 
 
 Tantum ergo sacramentufn : 
 
LINES TO TINTERN ABBEY. 1 67 
 
 Those words that speak to the heart of man 
 
 When his soul is all attention. 
 Now comes the Father's benediction, 
 
 And nothing is known but meekness, 
 When noble hearts and souls are filled 
 
 Full of love for God their Maker, 
 And for those who sob, and those who want. 
 
 In this the life of affliction. 
 See, now, in procession they withdraw, 
 
 The massive ruins remaining: 
 Where dwelleth the grace of God's great saints 
 
 For the hearts that cry — pray for us. 
 
 Ye hills ! that witnessed things gone past 
 
 Can tell of the lovely valley 
 Where the waters of sweet peace flowed, 
 
 And fertilized the vineyard. 
 
1 68 LINES TO TINTERN ABBEY. 
 
 Ye moss-grown dells and ancient glens 
 
 Can tell of the scenes of springtime: 
 How 'neath the shade of the forest king 
 
 The kine of the abbey grazed. 
 And tell us how, from the hamlet-side, 
 
 For food, came those that were needy. 
 And tell us of time when content liv'd 
 
 In the heart of peer and peasant. 
 And tell us of deeds of chivalry, 
 
 When hearts to God were submissive ; 
 And Sir Knight his all, his castle left. 
 
 To fight the fight of the Christian. 
 Here was sweet rest when he homeward came 
 
 Careworn and weary from battle ; 
 Here were the wants of body and soul 
 
 Relieved at every season. 
 O list ! as the heavy portal swings 
 
 Upon its great creaking hinges. 
 
LINES TO TINTERN ABBEY. 1 69 
 
 To the cheerful voice, that welcome gives 
 
 To the tir'd and hungry pilgrim, 
 Who has travel'd far, and thro' the storm, 
 
 Across the hills of Cambria. 
 His raiment 's wet, and he needeth food ; 
 
 And here God giveth him all things. 
 The tenderest love, and watchful care. 
 
 Were ever the gifts of the good men ; 
 The orphan child, andfihe infirm poor. 
 
 Found here a home and a refuge. 
 
 Hark ! to the bell of the Angelus 
 Echoing in the distant hills ; 
 
 And the Ave, Ave Maria, 
 Sending a holy enchantment 
 
 Unto the souJ that clingeth to God, 
 And feedeth in fairest pastures. 
 
lyo LINES TO TINTERN ABBEY. 
 
 The stern grey rocks that tower on high 
 
 Have look'd on the many virtues 
 Achieved within the crumbling walls 
 
 By the carefully-tending shepherds. 
 The very walls as a witness stand 
 
 Of- deeds of love and denial; 
 And is there a heart can turn away 
 
 And say not, good men, pray for us ? 
 
 Lo ! it is night, and the moon looks down, 
 
 And naught is heard but the river ; 
 The gurgling Wye as it rolls along 
 
 With time, its attendant ever. 
 With deeper awe the soul is struck 
 
 As the moon beams on the ruins. 
 For sweet sanctity, a part of God, 
 
 Is there, and speaks to the spirit. 
 
LINES TO TINTERN ABBEY. 171 
 
 Flowers may blow, and flowers may fade, 
 
 And the river roll forever ; 
 Summers may come, and summers may go. 
 
 But from this spot, sanctity, never. 
 
172 THE GOLDEN CITY, 
 
 THE GOLDEN CITY. 
 
 Thy Golden Gate, propitious sight to view, 
 
 As lifts the veil of mist when morn is new ; 
 
 And underneath, the sun's bright charms unfold, 
 
 And like a mystic spell, the senses hold. 
 
 Away, from far away, the bark has sped, 
 
 And battled long with strong winds from ahead ; 
 
 When now what joy comes to the wand'rer's mind, 
 
 A pleasant greeting, at the gate, to find. 
 
 The pearl-white sails bend loosely 'fore the mast ; 
 
 A gentle breeze prevails ; all storms are past ; 
 
 And harborward the vessel's prow doth turn ; 
 
 And with exulting hope the heart doth burn, 
 
 As thro' the harbor's mouth she 's quickly borne, 
 
 Favoured by the fortunes of the morn. 
 
THE GOLDEN CITY. 1 73 
 
 But see ! upon the right, and stretching far, 
 A mighty city. Fell it from the car 
 Of Jupiter ? O wondrous sight to view. 
 Thy temples and thy palaces so new I 
 Successful youth ! the mighty palm 's to thee. 
 Thou Golden City of the Western Sea. 
 Progress is the watchword, fear not the storm. 
 But fear dark pride, as onward all are borne. 
 Caesar, with his greatness, went unto the tomb. 
 And mighty cities once, now 're sunk in gloom. 
 Youthful tho' ye be, ye Ve known dismay. 
 That lurks in the wake e'en of imperial sway. 
 Be trustful, then, as night's mantle passes o'er 
 The wide-spread region of the Western shore ; 
 For hope comes from the East, with mighty host; 
 Thy star ascendant is ; from ev'ry coast 
 'T is view'd, and noted -, the present doth presage 
 A mighty future, at no distant age. 
 
174 THE GOLDEN CITY. 
 
 Then, on, and prosper : Phoebus smiles on thee. 
 
 And an iron road proclaims thy destiny. 
 
 But hark ! the giant of the mountain wakes, 
 
 The mountain trembles, and the strong man shakes. 
 
 O ! Power above. Thy might proclaim. 
 
 And the youthful city spare, spare to fame. 
 
 Let not the mighty castles plough the deep 
 
 To find her gone, forever hush'd in sleep. 
 
 Oh ! stay the evil of volcanic rage. 
 
 And let her live, the dreadful foe assuage. 
 
 Oh ! let her lofty minarets remain. 
 
 Let her in modern progress be the fane ; 
 
 Wonder she is, altho' the age is wise ; 
 
 For thought like lightning thro' the 'ocean flies. 
 
 Oh ! spare those mountains round about her, too. 
 
 That rise so stately, and enhance the view. 
 
 Condemn her not all in her youth to die. 
 
 But spare her still, to meet the trav'ler's eye. 
 
THE GOLDEN CITY. 1 75 
 
 Let not the giant of the mountain roll 
 And rumble, like to thunder from the pole ; 
 But let her on the Golden coast remain, 
 The joy of wand'rer from the spreading main. 
 Onward ! who is it knows the future goal, 
 Who can foretell what time's page may unroll ? 
 Oh ! let her live, a mighty wonder, she ! 
 The Queen of cities on Pacific Sea. 
 
176 COLUMBIA. 
 
 COLUMBIA. 
 
 The lord of the sky in his chariot rides, 
 
 And scatters his beams below ; 
 Day after day from his chariot throne 
 
 His smiles aid the flow'rs to glow ; 
 And fall what gloom o'er that country may, 
 
 Along with departed power. 
 He ever his sympathy will display, 
 
 And smile thro' her adverse hour : 
 As he smil'd when the busy hum of life 
 
 Loud sounded upon the shore ; 
 When commerce was teeming in her ports, 
 
 And her barks the seas rode o'er. 
 'Most deserted her homes, her fields untill'd, 
 
 Her lovers are in dismay ; 
 
COLUMBIA. 177 
 
 For memory days from the past doth call, 
 And pity a sigh betray. 
 
 Her flowers are bright, and no clime 's more fair ; 
 
 Lovely are her hills and dales : 
 Her bowers are beauteous, where forests shade ; 
 
 Crystal are her streams in th' vales. 
 Their antlers tossing on her mountain-tops, 
 
 Glens below the deer survey ; 
 And majestically sniff the balmy air. 
 
 At the golden break of day. 
 The roses are fragrant her summers yield, 
 
 In her silent sylvan groves ; 
 The charms are romantic that deck her streams. 
 
 Where the Indian maiden roves. 
 By Fate's sad decree, now her blighted life 
 
 Is disturb'd by the fitful moan 
 Of a famish'd wolf with destroying paws. 
 
 That her broad lands o'er doth roam. 
 
lyS COLUMBIA. 
 
 In trembling each tenement door they 'd bar, 
 
 To keep out the rav'ning foe ; 
 And in dauntless hope all await the dawn 
 
 Which may dissipate their woe. 
 Then smile, bright lord, from thy chariot throne, 
 
 And incite each heart to glow; 
 Let banners unfurl, and let manly prime 
 
 To her shores, inviting, flow. 
 Oh ! drive from the encumbered land the wolf 
 
 That threat'ning would devour ; 
 Her commerce revive, and her hills explore; 
 
 Restore her wonted power. 
 
 The sea-mews skim o'er her welcoming cliffs ; 
 
 Nereids of the ocean smile ; 
 And Naiads by the side of her mountain streams 
 
 Merrily the hours beguile. 
 Then Fortune, thou exile, return to her shore. 
 
 And raise thy voice in each glen; 
 
COLUMBIA. 179 
 
 Festive joy the propitious day shall crown, 
 
 That bringeth thee back again. 
 Let the merry sound of the woodman's axe 
 
 Ring thro' the ambient air, 
 When Aurora shall smile from her azure vault. 
 
 And thy bright return declare. 
 
EARLY POEMS. 
 
DEDICATION. 183 
 
 DEDICATION. 
 
 THESE EARLY POEMS ARE AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED TO H. A. J., ESQR., B.A. 
 
 On thee may star of fortune shine, 
 
 As silver dew upon the rose ; 
 May virtue, with her charms divine. 
 
 As breath of spring, dispel all woes : 
 May choicest treasures in her train 
 
 Attend, as golden morn array'd; 
 And may'st thou wreaths of laurel gain, 
 
 Rewards for classic lore display'd. 
 May wisdom from thy gen'rous breast 
 
 In cloudless lustre ever shine ; 
 And may thy noble soul find rest 
 
 In sympathetic love divine. 
 
184 DEDICATION. 
 
 These wishes from sweet friendship's shrine, 
 Penn'd by my muse's magic will, 
 
 I trust will o'er thee ever shine. 
 
 And bind our friendship firmer still. 
 
SPRING. 185 
 
 SPRING. 
 
 Hear in the vale how the little birds sing, 
 
 As they hop from bough to bough : 
 
 Chirp, chirp, twit, twit, 
 
 Chirp, chirp, twit, twit ; 
 We have truly bright spring now. 
 And we welcome thee : all hail ! to thee. 
 
 With rays of sun for flowers, 
 
 Chirp, chirp, twit, twit, 
 
 Chirp, chirp, twit, twit. 
 Along with fresh'ning showers ; 
 'Gain we welcome thee : all hail ! to thee ; 
 
 For with thee 's milder weather ; 
 
 Chirp, chirp, twit, twit. 
 
 Chirp, chirp, twit, twit ; 
 
l86 SPRING. 
 
 Frost and snow 're gone together ; 
 We will merry be and sing with glee, 
 
 And we'll make the woodland ring : 
 
 Chirp, chirp, twit, twit. 
 
 Chirp, chirp, twit, twit, 
 With welcome to thee, sweet spring ! 
 
FLOWERETS. 1 87 
 
 FLOWERETS. 
 
 Flowerets, I love you ! 
 
 For indeed ye tell 
 The heart that 's sad and weary : 
 
 To hope, and 't will be well ; 
 To dry the falling tears. 
 
 And lift the soul on high ; 
 To quell all anxious fears 
 
 While God Himself is nigh. 
 
 Flowerets, I love you ! 
 
 Fresh and sweet are ye. 
 Bringing pleasant thought. 
 
 With perfume sprinkled free ; 
 
1 88 FLOWERETS. 
 
 And ye shine in beauty, ^ 
 'T is beauty dear to see ; 
 
 Ye bloom in simple quiet, 
 For ye from stain are free. 
 
 Flowerets, I love you ! 
 
 For your brilliant hues 
 Our minds should ever feed 
 
 With better thoughts and views. 
 Ye bud, ye bloom, and die. 
 
 And tell to man a tale ; 
 And O ! I wonder why 
 
 So many of us fail ? 
 
 Flowerets, I love you ! 
 
 Playing to the breeze. 
 Giving up your honey 
 
 Unto the busy bees ; 
 
FLOWERETS. 1 89 
 
 Ye sweetest fragrance yield 
 
 To the zephyr going past, 
 To waft into the chamber 
 
 Of the child that 's sinking fast. 
 
 Flowerets, I love you ! 
 
 Emblems of things pure, 
 Ye tell that earth is false. 
 
 That nothing here is sure ; 
 Ever speaking simply 
 
 Of brightest hope to all. 
 Telling of a refuge 
 
 For those who lowly fall. 
 
 Flowerets, I love you ! 
 
 For ye whisper love. 
 And tell of greater power 
 
 That rules in world above ; 
 
190 FLOWERETS. 
 
 Ye tell of One who joys 
 All to forgive, forget ; 
 
 Ye tell of love forever, 
 Where suns will never set. 
 
 Flowerets, I love you ! 
 
 Simple tho' ye be ; 
 Ye look so bright and happy, 
 
 Ye breathe sweet peace to me ; 
 Ye teach the heart to cling 
 
 To One who doth entreat 
 The fallen to return, 
 
 And taste of pleasures sweet. 
 
 Flowerets, I love you ! 
 
 Love to angels' eyes. 
 When upon thy innocence 
 
 They look down from the skies, 
 
FLOWERETS. I9I 
 
 And cheer thee to perform 
 
 A mission great on earth : 
 
 By innocence to speak 
 
 Of other, brighter bjjrtf^J^^^p^^Mj^ 
 
 XJITIVERSITT, 
 
 Flowerets, I love you ! 
 
 The jasmine which throws 
 Its perfume so fragrant, 
 
 To soothe our cruel woes ; 
 To whisper to the heart 
 
 That sorrow for the sin 
 Is proof of His assistance 
 
 A place above to win. 
 
 Flowerets, I love you ! 
 
 Monthly roses bright. 
 Clustering round the porch 
 
 To give the heart delight ; 
 
192 FLOWERETS. 
 
 To cheer the cotter's home 
 AVith sweetness undefird ; 
 
 To deck the lowly roof 
 Of nature's simple child. 
 
 Flowerets, I love you ! 
 
 When* the morn is new; 
 For ye cheer with sweetness 
 
 When drops the falling dew ; 
 Ye like jewels sparkle, 
 
 So bright are ye to see ; 
 Ye point the way to bliss 
 
 For all eternity. 
 
 Flowerets, I love you ! 
 
 Pretty, bright flowers, 
 Growing in simple quiet 
 
 Beneath some shady bowers ; 
 
FLOWERETS. 1 93 
 
 Dress'd in modest beauty, 
 Ye meekly fill the part 
 
 Allotted by our Maker, 
 And ye purify the heart. 
 
 Flowerets, I love you ! 
 
 Blooming by a rill ; 
 Pretty blue forget-me-nots, 
 
 My thoughts are of you still ; 
 Tho' from you I Ve been borne, 
 
 My heart e'er lingers near 
 The pathway and your blossom, 
 
 And mem'ry drops a tear. 
 
 Flowerets, I love you ! 
 
 On a sabbath morn. 
 When in lover's best frock-coat 
 
 A red rose-bud is borne ; 
 
194 FLOWERETS. 
 
 Ent'ring the village church, 
 The maidens' blushes rise : 
 
 One of these is idoliz'd, 
 
 And love lights up lier eyes. 
 
 Flowerets, I love you ! 
 
 For to muse with ye 
 Is for the soul a stream 
 
 Of cherish'd purity ; 
 Ye charm the heart to joy 
 
 With rays of greatest light, 
 For ye like angels glisten 
 
 When noonday's sun is bright. 
 
 Flowerets, I love you ! 
 
 May-flowers blowing 
 By the side of the brook 
 
 Thro' the dingle flowing ; 
 
FLOWERETS. 1 95 
 
 Bright yellow May-flowers, 
 Flowers of Sancta Maria, 
 
 Yielding to her homage, 
 Alma, Mater, Maria ! 
 
196 COME. 
 
 COME. 
 
 Come, to the greenwood fly, 
 Come and hear the linnet sing, 
 Come where the throstle's notes 
 Make loud the wild welkin ring, 
 Come to the fairy bowers 
 Where elfin sprites are at play. 
 Come where the violets §low 
 And butterflies flutter all day. 
 Come, come, and stray with me. 
 Amid love-inspiring flow'rs. 
 Where fragrant eglantine 
 Is refresh'd by summer show'rs. 
 Come where the oxlips grow. 
 And the nightingale sings its lay. 
 
COME. 197 
 
 Come to the echoing woods, 
 Come where the moonbeams play. 
 Come, come away with me. 
 Buttercups and daisies to cull, 
 Come in my skiff on the lake, 
 O come while the sails are full. 
 
198 
 
 SHADOWS. 
 
 SHADOAVS. 
 
 There is a time 
 When the blessings 
 Of friends now gone 
 Around us fall. 
 O memory, 
 See that dear form 
 Shadowing plain 
 Upon the wall ; 
 Or in the chair 
 The shadow 's seen, 
 By the dim fall 
 Of th' taper's light ; 
 Or near the couch 
 It sheds the rays 
 
SHADOWS. 199 
 
 Of morning bright, 
 AVith smiling love 
 From angel's face, 
 To cheer our hearts 
 With pure delight, 
 While yet 't is night. 
 
THE STORM. 
 
 THE STORM. 
 
 Dark is the night, the storm rages strong, 
 The clouds are black that come rolling along 
 From over the troubled sea ; 
 
 Upon the sea's breast a bark is borne. 
 And she runs quite helpless before the storm, 
 And she plunges, lifts and rolls. 
 
 She nears the shore and the tempest mocks. 
 And dashes her against the rugged rocks, 
 A crash and she sinks from view ; 
 
 But alas ! the sailors' cries are borne 
 Far across the waves thro' the raging storm, 
 Asking for mercy from God. 
 
THE STORM. 
 
 O where q.re their hearts ? what a sad tale, 
 As their lives ebb out and their limbs all fail 
 But where, alas I are their souls ? 
 
 Anon the sun shines o'er the briny deep. 
 And the waves of the sea are hush'd in sleep : 
 But where are the wand'rers gone ? 
 
 See the widow, the fatherless wait 
 The return of those who have met this fate ; 
 But alas ! they wait in vain. 
 
 For never ! never ! till all is done. 
 Till trouble is past and the fight is won, 
 Will they meet those forms again. 
 
ECCE HOMO. 
 
 ECCE HOMO. 
 
 EccE Homo : His head droops low ; 
 O sweetest love, yet fraught with woe, 
 Which moves the heart of very stone 
 And makes it vow for ills atone. 
 But hear his sigh, as from his eyes 
 The radiant spark of life now flies. 
 Ecce Homo : like setting sun, 
 O sweet love, what hast thou won ? 
 For human race he suffers death, 
 And thou art in his parting breath. 
 Ecce Homo : his friend St. John 
 To sorrow yields, for love now gone ; 
 But o'er his soul bright hope has shed 
 Heav'nly manna — lambs will be fed ; 
 Ecce Homo. 
 
CONSOLATION. 203 
 
 CONSOLATION. 
 
 O ! WHERE are the sweet viole'ts gone 
 
 AVhich fondly I used to greet ; 
 And where are the daffodils gone, 
 
 Which grew in the grass at my feet ? 
 They have bow'd 'fore the wintry blast 
 
 That came o'er the valley and slope; 
 Their beauty is thing of the past, 
 
 But its mem'ry lives to give hope. 
 
 'Mid this cold and dismal array 
 
 I 've still some flowers for my dream, 
 
 Tho' others have left in dismay. 
 
 The crocus and snow-drop are seen. 
 
204 RELIGION. 
 
 To remind my heart of that love 
 As chaste as the Hly flower, 
 
 Gone away to bright realms above, 
 To await the fond greeting hour. 
 
 RELIGION. 
 
 Come in my garden walk. 
 
 Come ! come ! do pray consent ; 
 
 Cull my flowers, I beg, 
 
 Keep them, and know content ; 
 They Ve sweets for ev'ry thought, 
 
 And peace for the troubl'd mind ; 
 Come ! I beseech thee, come ! 
 
 And pearls of hope thou 'It find. 
 
DEWDROPS. ^ 205 
 
 DEWDROPS. 
 
 Arise from your slumber, 
 The morning is fleeting; 
 Go gather the dewdrops 
 The roses are greeting. 
 
 The lark is proclaiming 
 The approach of the sun, 
 Ere he comes, be gleaning, 
 The battle 's to be won. 
 
 Seek, then, the dewdrops, 
 The pearls of the morning, 
 Thou 'It want then the dewdrops 
 Ere another day's dawj>iflSrSS~r7tt^T*-^ 
 XTNIVERSITY 
 
2o6 DEWDROPS. 
 
 Choice gems are the dewdrops, 
 They cause no repining ; 
 Comforts are the dewdrops 
 When Hfe is declining. 
 
 Have faith, catch the dewdrops 
 So brilliantly shining ; 
 Work, and by the dewdrops 
 In love be declining. 
 
THE MORNING. 207 
 
 THE MORNING. 
 
 Hark to the merry song of the lark, 
 
 Greeting the early morn, 
 And bidding the heavy sleeper rise 
 
 To glean the ripen'd corn. 
 
 See in the Orient sky comes forth 
 
 The ever welcome sun 
 To cheer each hope, and to tell the heart 
 
 The battle may be won. 
 
 But, O listen ! hear ye not a voice 
 
 Of music from the sky. 
 Which is for the ear of lamb that 's called 
 
 From earth, and all, to fly ? 
 
2o8 THE MORNING. 
 
 Be ready, then : come, awake in time, 
 Ere early morn is past ; 
 
 Go ye forth to glean, for labor 's sweet, 
 And reward thou 'It find at last. 
 
LAY TO THE SEA. 209 
 
 LAY TO THE SEA. 
 
 At night, upon the deep, deep sea, 
 When waves are rolHng high and free, 
 They sing a chord of melody 
 Which ever speaks of mystery. 
 
 And when upon its bosom borne 
 Away from friends, away from home, 
 The waves are cheering in their tone 
 To heart of wand'rer doom'd to roam. 
 
 But, O ! the sea, the wondrous sea, 
 With its spray dashing merry and free, 
 It is deceptive in its glee, 
 Tho' surging e'er so tranquilly. 
 
2IO THE BELLS. 
 
 THE BELLS. 
 
 Ding, dong, 
 
 The merry, merry bells 
 Thro' the valley sound, 
 And spread far around 
 The news of the new-born heir. 
 
 Ding, dong. 
 
 The merry, merry bells 
 Make known to the throng 
 Of the old and the young 
 The news of the new-join'd pair. 
 
 Ding, dong. 
 
 The solemn, solemn bells 
 
THE BELLS. 
 
 Ring a doleful knell, 
 Heard o'er hill and dell : 
 The news that one's departed. 
 
 Ding, dong, 
 
 The solemn, solemn bells 
 Speak : Bring him along ; 
 Come, hurry the throng; 
 Never mind the broken hearted. 
 
THE CLOCK. 
 
 THE CLOCK. 
 
 Tick, tick, lick, 
 
 The clock goes on forex^er, 
 Speaking words of comfort, 
 Never ceasing, never. 
 
 Tick, tick, tick. 
 
 No matter how the clime. 
 Ever speaking of hope, 
 AVeather dull or fine. 
 
 Tick, tick, tick. 
 
 The old house clock at home 
 Often strikes upon the ear 
 When far away we roam. 
 
 Tick, tick, tick,. 
 
 The widow's comfort ever; 
 
THE CLOCK. 213 
 
 With all she 'd rather part 
 Than from thee she 'd sever. 
 
 Tick, tick, tick, 
 
 Hard the poor sempstress plies, 
 Working late and early. 
 And careworn are her eyes. 
 
 Tick, tick, tick. 
 
 The pilot's babe is sleeping, 
 ^ The dark storm is raging: 
 But the wife is weeping. 
 
 Tick, tick, tick. 
 
 The mother sits and cries, 
 Waiting for her boy's return 
 To ease her tears and sighs. 
 
 Tick, tick, tick. 
 
 No matter what goes on : 
 The clock's tick is cheering, 
 Come sunshine or come none. 
 
214 THE CLOCK. 
 
 Tick, tick, tick, 
 
 The fingers are moving on, 
 Telling of hours coming, 
 And of hours past and gone. 
 
DEATH. 215 
 
 DEATH. 
 
 There is a great king, and his name is Death, 
 
 And he walks in majesty : 
 For his train is thronged with angels bright, 
 
 And they chant solemnly, 
 
 'Tis time — come ! come ! 
 
 A messenger goes to tell the approach 
 
 Of King Death and his great train. 
 
 And when he comes the very air we breathe 
 Brings the solemn chant again, 
 'Tis time — come ! come ! 
 
 And the powerful king he seats himself, 
 And the angels dress'd in' white 
 
2l6 DEATH. 
 
 Stand waiting the potentate's sign o' command, 
 And they chant their words of light, 
 'Tis time — come ! come ! 
 
 And then when the appointed time is given, 
 The angels bear far away. 
 
 The soul for which King Death arrived, 
 To sing, clothed in bright array, 
 'Tis time — come ! come ! 
 
 ^universittj 
 California^ 
 
VB ll92i 
 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY OF CAUFORNIA UBRARY