NEW POEMS PS 1074 .B7 N4 1883 Copy 1 BY %ixme^ ^3fCx>i^ ^arflcg^ AUTHOR OF "POEMS," "VIRGINIA: WITH OTHER POEMS," ETC. CHARLOTTESVILLE, VA. : Jeffeesonian Steam Book and Job Printing House. 1883. [Copyrighted.] NEW POEMS BY %ixxnc^ ^^^x>i^ ^ctrflcg^ AUTHOR OF ''POEMS/' ^'VIRGINIA: WITH OTHER POEMS," ETC. \ S'-^o.,.,,...^?^' CHARLOTTESVILLE, VA. : Jeffeesonian Steam Book and Job Printii^g House. 1883. NEW POEMS. JEFFERSON AND FREEDOM. O Liberty ! dear dream of all the ages, Writ of by poets, prophets, gray-haired sages, Who spied thy ray, though yet but faintly shining — Thy champions failed, then died of heart's repining. Here, last, thy image shone, effulgent, waking O'erburdened heaits, from soitow's slumber breaking : And resolute, commanding hei-oes telling Of tyranny their righteous deed compelling, Declared their heart, tongue, action free forever, — Since no bonds hold which wrong has come to sever. Then when from victory flushed and proud, returning. Thy heaven-born breast with warmest rapture burning. Thy gaze fixed, Mdth a fire, supreme, undying. On all, not even the humblest friend denying ; But glowed thy august glances, deep and tender. And clad their forms in thy celestial splendor — Most lit two figures, Jefferson the writer And of Fame's chiefest scroll the bokt indicter ; The other — Washington, the great self-master. Who brought on British arms a long disaster. O Liberty ! apace thy country growing Surpasses the far-seeing prophet's showing : From North, from South, from East, from West, assembling. And the strong multitudinous waves resembling, Thy sons, thy daughters, come, thy presence greeting. Mid loud reverberations heaven beating — O come — ye ever widening tides of being, And shame the wildest prophet's wondrous seeing — And come each year, on this glad day returning — And give free vent to heart's profoundest yearning ; Your holocaust of love, upon his altar. Who, loving all, though threatened, did not falter. MONTICELLO. Behold the little mountain rise New-tricked in morning's golden beams : The azure summer skies o'erhead — Below, the winding, rushing streams. The woodland minstrels sing in glee, Blest in the close-embowered grove ; The dallying winds breathe music low. As o'er the woodland slope they rove. I look upon the landscape fair Outspread beneath my roving eyes — The Blue Ridge, and the cloud-caps white That high beyond its summits rise. The natural scene of loveliness Attracts the painter's practiced eye ; And Art — in vain, alas ! — aspires To show what truth shall still deny. Mid scene so beauteous lived the sage, Whose heart and mind and fearless pen Affirmed that Nature and its God, Are gifts bestowed on living men : 5 That none this freedom can abridge, But liberal as the mountain air Or sunlight sweet, it scatters far Its heaven-thought blessing everywhere. Between true souls and nature's walks There is a mystic sympathy — And Liberty's peculiar home Is on the rugged mountains high. And so, the Father of our Rights, From whom our highest good shall come, Had not been happy in the vale, But chose himself this mountain home. BOYHOOD'S JOYS. Oh, how happy were the fancies Of the careless dreaming boy — Deeper knowledge now enhances Treasured worth of each loved joy. Red-bird singing loud and cheery, Chaffinch t\\ittering near the ground Timid hare and squirrel merry That the ripened fruit has found. Finny fishes in the eddies Of the glassy brooklet shine — CircHng, thus avoiding Freddie's Fair deceit of pendent line. Yet ofttimes a perch or minnow Darts and swalloAvs quick the bait. Ruing, like sad hnman sinner. Dainty morsel, but too late. Oft in twilight's misty glamor, Far up on the mountain's side, Woodland heax-s, with sudden tremor, Loud shots echoing far and wide. Playful colts as yet ne'er bridled, Still, e'en now, our darling pets — Bravest boy has near one sidled, And upon the broad back gets. O ! ye joys of field and wildwood, All the life of tireless play ; Love of nature in free childhood, Can your blessing pass away ? Mid the rounds of dull day-duty Still there's something to repay — Memory shows your bliss and beauty Round our toilsome, rugged way. ALBEMARLE. Oh Albemarle ! in me scarce more than child Thy scenery beheld, woke pleased surprise ; Low mountains, coves romantically wild. Round hillocks, knolls, green slopes, high wood, blue skies. Thou wast the land of kindred, thy good soil In youth my father's feet had often pressed, Who here began his time of care and toil ; And here a loving, tender partner blessed His manly heart — ah ! doomed to early woe. In quick succeeding years I knew thy fame. And my mind caught, from altars lit, a glow Which not in life shall lose its heavenly flame — Now the sweet lady whom I do adore. Makes thee heart's hallowed shrine forevermore. THE HIGH ROCK AT RIO DE JANEIRO. In Rio's harbor deep and safe The ocean-billows meet and chafe A rock whose apex o'er the sea More than a thousand feet may be. Come, list a story now, as strange As any heard in fiction's range. Here once a gallant boy of France Beheld the rock sublime advance Its towering, giddy head — so high It seemed to flout the azure sky. And sudden, vain ambition woke Within him then — and thus he spoke To his companions, " I will climb Yon rock above the town sublime. And thence look down on shore and sea — Then men unborn may speak of me For many a day and many a year, A gallant youth who knew not fear." His comx-ades chid the boy in vain, Nor his attempt they could restrain. And he the steep ascent began ; And there was not a living man Who blanched not at the daring deed, Nor wondered at the graceful speed With which he rose — the space o'erpast From that dim height his look was cast On the hushed, breathless group below Who still his form cannot forego. Awhile the proud triumphant one Thought on the feat that he had done, Gazed now and viewed a scene no eye Before had caught, as time went by. But now the height he would descend And with his cheering comrades blend, And catch their words of generous praise. The shouts and votive songs they raise. Alas ! he finds the toil too hard. And he from all return debarred. His soul is filled with anxious care ; But once hope smiled — then came despair. The hours of day at length were done And from the sky sank down the ;5un; The wind of evening smote his brow, And he, worn out, would slumber now. The stars beheld him outstretched there, Upon that high rock's top all bare. Yet how he lived and how he died • All ask, while none have e'er replied. But there, e'en now, his bones bleached white Arrest the seaman's tear-dimmed sight. As then none dared to walk his way. So none ascend that rock to-day. 'Tis only known that he was brave. That none might succor Kim nor save. We think that oft the brave will die A dubiolis legend to supply : And it were better oft to be A toiler in humility. Than an aspirant mad for fame Who gives his life to whi a name. THE OLD GILLIAM HOME. Often airy fancy playing Borne on wings of silver gleam, Leads my boyish footsteps straying By a laughing meadow stream. High the lark is singing o'er me And his melody doth rain ; W^hile gay flowers smile before me Decking all the wide-spread plain.. My young breast no pang doth harrow,. x\ll unknown as yet is care ; Still I fear not for the morrow — Hope's dear promise is so fair. Happy is my spirit roaming In life's bright gay morning dream^ Which a cloudless sky is doming By the crystal meadow stream. Back from all my present sorrow It is bliss to wander there, And from childhood's joys to borrow Freedom from my grief and care. And I would not see a morrow That should hide its joys from me, — Welcome death instead of sorrow, Free from thought, from anguish free. THE OLD HOME. I see the brooklet stealing 'Twixt sedgy banks away, The fertile meads revealing Its course by verdure gay. I see the great house builded Within a clump of oaks, Whose cherished trunks ne'er yielded To stranger's reckless strokes. I see the barn whose shadow Creeps far athwart the lea,. Below, the daisied meadow, W^ith many an orchard tree. In pastures lying fallow The flocks and keepers stray- Rich corn-lands turning yellow- Beneath the August ray. Ah yes ! I have been dreaming Of by-gone things to-day, Of joys once endless seeming That now have fled for aye. But 'tis not ill to cherish, The dear, the blissful time — Let not its beauty perish Nor hush its fairy rhyme. HARMONIA. Harmonia ! fairest one That e'er has blessed my sight ; From some celestial sun Thou drawest thy strange light. For flowing thus to thee In unexhausted tides, Its free resplendency No darkness ever hides. Immortal are thy beams Though seen by mortal eyes ; Only thy splendor gleams, And other radiance dies. An atom doth behold. Thee decked with crown so bright : The silent harp I hold Wakes, and gives forth delight. II O light ! O star divine ! The wonder of these skies ! If thou shouldst cease to shine, Harmonia ! pleasure dies. OUR MASTER. Our learned old master, remembered so well. Though many the changes that all have since known ; His home on the hill and just out of the dell, O'er the meadow \Yith daisies and violets strewn. And, hard by, the old wooden chnrch at the Fork Without steeple or bell ; yet the country around, There duly resorted, done set weekly work, And the altar of God with pure heart-offerings crowned. His " school-house " was seen just within the small grove Where the broad county road went down to the brook. And thither we children at morning did rove. All slowly and mutely, with luncheon and book. Through the long bright day-time, our feelings represt. We pored over questions too dark for a sage ; A strange, nameless longing in each little breast For a life that accorded with that tender age. How oft would our dimmed eyes steal off from their task To watch the small wild-birds so^blithesome and free, Loud swelling their songs ; and these never could ask ■ For learning or vnsdom, still sang in green tree. And ofttimes to lighten our burden of grief. Till the slow recitations had all been drawled through, Hid behind our old book-backs, each tore out a leaf/ And round us the unseen paper pellets then flew. 12 I maio? And hiply some urchin more bold than the rest Might seat himself near to some bright-eyed sweet mal( And say, of her playmates he loved her the best, Then his arm round her wee waist quickly, stealthily laid. Whiles, the grave old master still reigned in his chair, And eyed us and named us our lessons to say ; Deep, shrunken, wan cheeks, with thin locks of gray hair. For this book-worm and teacher had seen many a day. He was gentle, yet stem ; was both pensive and gay ; His thoughts to us children were past finding out ; He seemed not to govern ; yet held on his sway ; If moi-e friend or more foe still enveloped in doubt. Not seldom he sent one to fetch him a birch Which gracefully hung o'er a clear rippling rill ; He " corrected " some lad who was left in the lurch, When his cries to the audience rose sudden and shrill. But now what a deep and mysterious hush Controlled the meek group at the stern master's feet ; For there swung yet lithe birches and danced on their bush, And each tiny heart in its bosom scarce beat. We feared our good master, and hardly we loved For we deemed, in our ignorance, that life is but play ; And the long, happy future so far, far removed, Seemed to call our fleet footsteps forever away. But now 'tis long ago we discovered his worth, x'Vnd saw him no longer the foe but the friend ; W^hile toiling our way inid the thorns of the earth. That discipline stern needed succor doth lend. And we'll alway remember him filially now. With grief that we ever impatient grew. To cast passing shade o'er that smooth, placid brow. And wing a keen pang to a heart that was true. 13 As oft as we come from our labors to look Once more on dear scenes that our brief childhood knew, The old home, and the church, and the farms by the brook, Our good master's grave we will tearfully view : And pray that still daisies and violets there May come with the year, while the wood-poets sing Their requiem glad, on the ambient air, ^^^len the master sits enthroned, hard by heaven's high King. LIFE. Where once broad meadows spread Beneath the azure sky, The circling seasons sped On golden pinions by. Light-hearted, free and blest, I was a sportive child ; Loved, flattered, much caressed. Life's vista to me smiled. I dreamed the picture fair Should never be o'ercast; That joys so dear and rare, Should ever, ever last. Untaught ! — to think this earth E'er could be reft from gloom — That flowers of heavenly worth, Spring this side the sad tomb. And summer's tempest dread Came raging on full soon, And closed above my head. And hushed the songs of June : Till Autumn winds piped loud O'er many a sweet, pale flower — Lo ! all the fair ones bowed 'Neath Winter's conquering power. THE HAPPY LAND. " Where lies the sunny land O'er which dark stonns ne'er rise ; Whose airs are ever bland, Whose fadeless flowers arise, Where sorrow never sighs ? Show me that happy land ! " " Beyond this concave spanned By frequent rising storms, Begins a golden strand No thunder-peal alarms, And drest in Eden's charms There lies that happy land." "Oh, when will God command , My soul's hark too, to sail And head for that loved strand Before the freshening gale. To leave the gloomy vale — When shall I reach that strand ? " THE ROSE OF LOVE. O fair blooms the rose mid the garden of life And lends its sweet fragrance to morning's pure air. And all the cool bowers are with melody rife And nought that we know of is harrowed by care. And the rare flower we cherish, and linger to gaze On every unfolding and beautiful charm ; We shelter it closely from summer's hot rays And from the rude wrath of the loud winter storm. The rose is e'en ours, and its bliss is supreme. And the beats of the heart are a music divine : F 15 Our life, although real, as fair as a dream. While the hues of the rose still as beauteously shine. But, ah ! and alas ! for a season shall come When the rose that we shelter and nestle so near. Will lose its bright color, and give no perfume, ■, But lie dead and pale mid a landscape all drear. Then, how may we sing, or how can we be gay When the dear rose no more glads the garden of life ? What then shall we reck of the fierce summer ray. Or the wild winter winds' long tempestuous strife ? When we search o'er the landscape to greet as of yore The light of its beauty, the laugh of its bloom, Not fancy herself can our lost rose restore, - And but weeping is heard still on this side the tomb. Lo ! amid the vast desert of white silent snow, And out from the black folds of the loud howling storm, A fair seraph moves, on her bosom a-glow '. The dear rose we cherished, perfect color and form. As, quick she draws near, glancing kindly the while. And points to the fair rose victorious o'er death. She says — with a kiss e'en more sweet than her smile — " See ! the rose is immortal — and I am true Faith." A WANDERER. I'm far away from native land And fond delights of home, The smiling, anxious household band, — Alas ! that I did roam I — And though the scenes round me are fair. And voices echo kind, i6 -^ ' ^ 'These cannot quell my constant care, Or soothe my troubled mind. And, I have tried- the spell of love, Have sought in beauteous eyes The power my sorrow to remove And banish mournful sighs. But oh ! my efforts were in vain. And dark rolled every day ; 1 pined to view the friends again Where once my heart was gay. And still, as weary suns go by, My grief becomes more deep, And oft, when stars are in the sky. Alone I wake and weep. Eut when I slumber, then sad dreams Depict a man forlorn. O'er savage strands and ocean streams By fate relentless borne. Oh ! two dear friends alone remain To me below the skies, To chase my heart-consuming pain And banish ceaseless sighs : Tond memoiy that paints the past Without a trace of gloom, And Hope whose radiant beams are cast To light me to my home. BETHLEHEM. The Winter twilight, deep and chill, Died o'er Judea, glen and hill, The torches of the House of Bread Athwart the night a glimmer shed. 1/ In thorn and palm the birds were mute, In homes no strain of tongue or lute ; And silence, solemn and profound. Held all the breathless landscape round. vStill on the wide extended plain Where Night thus kept her sceptered reign, Some faithful shepherds did not sleep, And watched their flocks of snow-white sheep. Lo ! suddenly, above their heads Where Night her ebon curtain spreads. Their wondering eyes a star have seen, Which casts a new, unwonted sheen. An embassy of seraphim Hover above the silence dim ; Till sweet and far a gladsome song Floats all the starry space along. " God's glory must creation fill ; With peace on eaith, to men good will ! " And brightness on the landscape lay. And the dark glens grew bright with day. For then the royal child was born Who brings the world's expected morn, When Hate shall die, but living love The pledge of endless joy shall prove. SUNDERED. No black cloud gloomed the high-arched sky, No sudden tempest shook the air. But soft winds whispered melody. Fair flowers were blooming everywhere : 2 'Twas always sunny, balmy weather, When we two dwelt in love together : No speck discerned on high Alarmed the roving eye : For time was always sunny weather. When we tv/o dwelt in love together. But ah ! the sky so high and blue, And ah ! thai balmy, sunny weather, W^hen all green paths we threaded through, And roved among the blooming heathei- No more the wind makes melody ; The flowers long since v. ere swept away ; The tempest scowls from day to day, Nor any beauty glads the eye : And yet 'twas always sunny weather. When we two dwelt in love together ! SEVERED. Ah ! lengthening course of dreary years. Love, since we met and parted In grief, in anguish and in tears, True lovers, broken-hearted. We look now to that vanished time With pain and pleasure blended, Rove back in youth's gay vernal clime, Till life's long age be ended. Thy eyes were beauty's loveliest beams, Thy tongue's enchanting measures Like music which one hears in dreams, xVwoke a thousand pleasures. And oft those drew me to thy side And fast forever bound me, While bright gleamed time's on-flowing tide And rosy garlands crowned me. 19 O dark and terrible the cloud All suddenly befalling That did Hope's radiant light enshroud, Our young glad hearts appalling, And still our spirits feel its power And shrink as on that morning Whose frown upon our bliss did lower, All love's entreaties scorning. Life now has but one welcome balm To soothe our wounds yet bleeding, To lend a blest though mournful calm To bosoms ne'er unheeding. 'Tis that our youthful thoughtless love. Though banned and sorrow-riven. Through all this long life-woe can prove The steadfastness of heaven. Yes, sure our love was blessed still Though its warm wish was thwarted. And foes who knew not its sweet thrill Enclasping hands have parted : And faith avows to conscious love That, in yon blissful heaven. To truth that nought could ever move Its guerdon shall be given. A HYMN. My God ! Thy glory shines afar, The planets e'er revolve, Until dread elemental war The fabric shall resolve. 20 How those all move to nicest law And shine forever bright ; Though from my vie.w they oft withdraAv They lose no ray of light : Set times, they gleam above my head, In glory still unchanged. Yet tell not of the realms outspread Through which their courses ranged. O glorious kingdom without bounds, Of void, and rolling sphere. From all an anthem e'er resounds To the Creator's ear. Yet I am nobler still than all Illimitable space, Since Heaven redeemed me from my fall Through love's amazing grace. ADDRESSES TO EDITH CLARE. I. Thine image bright had hovered ofttimes o'er me In the soul-visions that illume my life — Life-morning's rose-hues coloring all before me, And love's dew fresh, the world with beauty rife. Yet e'er I failed to realize my treasure, My soul's ideal, beauteous-smiling bride ; And when I woke the lyre's low swelling measure. The melody in death-like silence died. 21 But oh ! that image bright enchants my spirit ; Each charm is living, every dream-like grace ! Now perfect bliss my glad soul doth inherit, And earth appears not earth, but heavenly place. 11. Oh ! thou art fair ! Thy form is grace itself, Thy face most beautiful, thy mild blue eyes Have the transparency and blessed light Of Summer's deepest heaven — thy sweet child-voice Moves me to joy or sadness at its will : Thy mind is noble, and thy guiltless heart Mirrors th' unfading truth of heavenly love. Thou art my angel, leading me to God. III. My soul is sad — to-day I have not seen, Dear one ! thy form, thy bright and gladsome mien ; I have not watched thy outward natural grace, Nor heard thy voice which can all care efface From heart desponding ever, when thou'rt gone. And I, e'en though in crowds, am still alone. Dear one ! I do beseech thy lips to vow I never more may sadly sigh as now — Say, I may ever dwell in thy loved sight And feast, ne'er fearing, on such dear delight — I cannot live, when I am torn from thee Who art my light and true felicity. IV. () rarest Edith ! wilt thou aye be mine And strew my way with flowers of fairest hue ; And cast a sunshine, radiant and divine. O'er scenes that else were dark and drear to view ? O now, thy kind consent I do entreat ; O bid me not away, unblest to die — Love ! sweetly smile, and make my joy complete, Saying I evermore may linger nigh. 22 Yet still in softest accents I implore ; I wait thy answer, though the hours go fleet — For could I live and see thee never more, Nor hear that voice's music, glad and sweet ? So strong the love that now controls my fate, With thee my bliss would be almost a heaven ; Unloved, rejected, lone and desolate. Will come the rest to all the wretched given. V. It is the look thou giv'st to me. The furtive glance so sweet — It is the smile none else can see, Where souls convivial meet — It is the whispered tones, all low Like fairy songs by night. When moon-lit waters gleam below, And stars on high gi'ow bright — It is the token, faintly felt. Withheld, and but half-given — And thy true pledge when I have knelt As to a shrine of heaven : — It is e'en these I prize the most. And these can make me blest ; Oh ! when their memory I have lost, In death this heart shall rest. VI. In my heart's fortress, sweet ! thou art secure ; Oh ! laugh thou therefore scorn to every foe. For not they all could lay the ramparts low, , And he who builds, has wrought the work so sure No force may rend them, and they must endure. Here stay and dwell, still take thy safe repose. Though, nigh, the onset's tumult louder grows 23 And fast their volleys 'gainst thy casements pour. Mock Death ; the angry giant's dreaded power Is now no might — since holy Christ has graced Thy towers with his red ensign e'en this hour, And changed weak heart into a stronghold great, A jewelled sceptre in thy fair hand placed And crowned thee queen in high imperial state I VII. Oh I I love thee, and thee alone ; No other flame this bi-east hath known, No other shall it own, till cold My mother earth shall me enfold. Thy form and face were matchless fair. And, first beheld, became my care — A mighty spell possessed my soul. And o'er me orained entire control. Now, as one shipwrecked, who shall wait The rolling billows' love or hate — Or, cheerful, glad return to life. Or death amid the awful strife — I wait to hear from thee, the word Gladdest or saddest I have hearc — If love's supreme felicity. Or living death, afar from thee ! VIII. This long-drawn absence wounds my heart, 'Tis lover's deadliest bane to part; I cannot play, I cannot sing ; Nor fancy waves her sportive wing. From cheerful scenes I steal away. And lone in untrod paths I stray, And muse on Edith's distant charms H And long to fold these in my arms : Count o'er the sad and dreary tale Of days, hom-s, moments, till the gale Soft-breathing, waft the blue waves o'er, -Her yacht to glad again my shore ; And when at last my soul is blest While in her faithful arms I rest, No earthly might again shall rend From this warm bi-east its closest friend ; No ! only Death shall boast that power To rob my fair from me one hour. IX. Since fate has severed me from bliss, From Edith's smile and granted kiss, O angel hope, child of the skies ! Thee most of all my good I prize. And how could I endure one day. If dark despair should hold her sway, And tell that I no more should greet My cherished lady smiling sweet ? Hope, precious boon of pitying heaven. If now thy pledge so kindly given. My trembling soul shall not betray. But give, at the appointed day, My eyes again to view that smile Which aye my sorrow can beguile, Then all my harp's sweet melody, In future years, shall thrill to thee. X. Dame nature viewing once her realm, Beheld its varied beauties, Each in its own appointed place, AH doing loyal duties i t Red roses on the garden walks, White liHes near them leaning, The modest violets and pinks, Half-hid by verdant screening ; The clear dew shining on the leaves, Like diadem's adorning. There heightened all the fair flowers' charms x\t eventide and morning : She sighed that they were distant thus, — Love for her sweet ones such is, — Not seen at once, nor feeling oft Her hand'^ caressing touches. So, then, she bade the fair ones all, (For sovereign powers are nature's,) And met, well-pleased, their blending charms, In Edith's form and features. The rose and pinks became her cheeks, Her lips of dewy splendor; The lilies white her neck and brow, Her eye the violet tender. Now, grace of Nature, I behold Her beauty's peerless seeming ; I love a living maid more fair Than bard or painter's dreaming. XL I meet my love in blissful dreams, When stars gleam bright on high,, I greet her mild eye's mildest beams And catch her answering sigh. She smiles and soothes my throbbing brow With her caressing hand ; She whispers, that she loves me, now In accents, low and bland. 26 Her soul is true — her love brings me A far more precious store Than all the wealth that land and sea For monarchs ever bore. I meet my true and faithful one, In vision's blissful beams: I'm blest till comes the morning sun That chases joy's fond dreams. XII. Wheii the glad beams of morning shine Swift speeds my thought, dear one ! to thee ; Tor, oh ! thy beauty is divine, Such matchless charms ne'er beamed on me. Thy graceful head, thy snow-white arms. Those eyes in hue with heaven the same, AVhose glance the impious gaze disarms. Inspire a never dying flame. I wish not wealth, or fame, or power. But constant love in some green dell, A home which blooming trees embower, Where birds their kindred transports tell. XIII. O Edith ! far in some green vale With thee I would elect to dwell, ^Vhere ne'er breathes hoarse the northern gale. But whispering breezes softly swell : Where nightingale in moonlit grove Pours forth his tenderest notes of song — This plaintive minstrel's tuneful love Seems sweet beneath the stars' thick throng. Here, loved one ! our safe nest should be, And we would thrive and tell of love ; We'd teach rude rocks soft sympathy And breasts of savage creatures move. And night, she of the star-gemmed crown, Should hallowed smile, on vale and hill, And heaven's high hosts low bending down To hear our harmony should thrill. XIV. Though many queenly beauties Around me shine. Their courtiers pay them duties Almost divine. Not one, all brightly beaming, — My queen can be ; My constant heart is dreaming Of thee— but thee. Ah ! when shall I, deep-yearning With deathless love. As if on wings returning, My raptures prove. While, on thy breast reclining In ecstasy," No longer then repining, I know but thee ? THE ANCIENT VILLAGE CHURCH. Upon the open village green The Church now dim with age — And to the quiet, lovely scene ' We make our pilgrimage. Our fathers reared this temple, plain Yet pleasing to the view ; Here prayed and sang the solemn strain To their Creator true. 28 Through these hushed aisles they ofttimes passed, At yonder chancel knelt, And ne'er a harrowing doubt o'ercast The faith they deeply felt. And oft the gift of special grace Repaid their warm desire. And heaven's light sat on every face And touched each tongue with fire. Here many a guiltless pair were wed And fervent they adored, The pastor when the rite was said His plea for blessings poured. Here many a victory hard was won For righteousness and heaven. For unbelievers prayers were done, The sacraments were given. There now within the enclosure nigh Whose sombre cedars wave, Where breezes stay and softly sigh, Heaves many a grass-grown grave. Who to the line and plummet stood And feared in house like this, — For God is mighty, just, and good, — Enjoy eternal bliss. DEPARTED FRIENDS. Why fade the dearest ones Of our terrestrial kind, So oft — alas ! — ere yet Life's morning hath declined ? Brief time they bless our sight And wake our fondest love ; Then quickly from our walks To scenes unknown remove. 29 Yet, we remain to weep Sad unavailing tears, As in a desert lone Where ne'er their smile appears. O Father ! make our faith, Our patience, strong that we In hearts those gems may wear Thy Holy eyes would see. A WOUNDED SPIRIT HEALED. My agony for guilt is passed, My deadly pain is gone at last — The dead Christ's blood my fatal wound The sovereign remedy has found ; A rapturous joy divine, A heaven below, is mine. Sure I should soon have sunk in death, Had I not exercised finn faith Nor used the boon that love supplies To raise the soul that faints and dies The death that even lives, That time no ending gives. Now all my nameless pangs are o'er. For Hell consumed my heart before ; And loud I sing, at night, at morn, My glad new life so strangely born ; Restored, completely whole. Heaven lights my thrilling soul. 30 LIFE AND DEATH. Consider the unceasing change About our bodies and within, Beyond fixed bounds things cannot range, But, moving round, again begin Their circles of unending life : This matter even cannot die. To take new shapes its only strife, Rich effluence of its source on high. This flower my raptured eye explores Will early fade and droop and fall ; Caressing winds from warmer shores The same fair semblance shall recall. And let us not regret so much The worth we give unto the worm. For what seems death cannot be such, But rather life's still changing form. MY ROSE: My little blooming rose In sunny Eden born, My last fond joy at eve, My first glad wish at mom ! The genial sun and shower Bid rare, strange beauties blow God lets not foes invade. Nor winds too rudely blow. My beauteous rose, my gem ! That sudden rapts my gaze. Makes fragrant memory Through long laborious days. 31 I know that when my eyes Behold the flowers in heaven, The sight of my fair rose To this heart shall be given. TO ONE WHO EARLY DEPARTED. The evening breeze is sighing With breathings soft and low — It faints where thou art lying In dreamless sleep below : And this true heart is bi-eaking Above thy senseless clay That ne'er shall know awaking Till God's great Judgment day. The dark-robed Night is steeping The flowers, the green tui-f there, In drops that she is weeping For one so young, so fair : My heart, in darkness hidden Gives never failing tears. Till by the dear Christ bidden, Joy's endless dawn appears. TO J. S. H. Come, my loved friend ! when garlands fade And larks forget to sing, Then to my heart thy speech and smiles A timely joy shall bring. Full lightly speed the winged hours While vernal roses bloom, But when the yellow hue is seen The faithful friend will come. 32 With thee to speak of by-gone joys, And of my present bliss, And of the brighter spheres that wait The generous man in this : I will not wail Spring's chaplets sweet Pi-one on the cold earth cast, Nor Autmim's drear, asserted power, Nor Winter's cruel blast. PARTED. The years are many since we parted there, One summer eve, beneath the old oak-tree. We loved — but fate had doomed us to despair. And we had felt that untold agony Of souls completely one, yet rent in twain, — The years are many since that nameless hour. And these have felt the shafts of other pain, Yet nought that equalled that first sorrow's power. The love that woke in life's best gladdest time, Though hapless and despairing, never dies : Come, heavenly Faith, and point, with mien sublime, To recompense within th' eternal skies. SONG. Oh what gives such charms to the landscape I view, A deep rocky glen with a brook babbling through — No tropical splendor of foliage and bloom, No rich gorgeous floM^ers that scatter perfume. f 33 ^•'Tis a vale of the land where the summer is brief And soon the hoar frost nips the forest's gi-een leaf, Yet far dearer to me than those gay bowers of bliss Which the soft airs from smooth seas caressingly kiss. For my Julia dwells here, blest with beauty and youth, • And the white northern snow's not more pure than her truth, And 'tis she who thus bids these cold shores that I view, Blossom out in the glory of lost Eden's hue. A TOURNAMENT AT THE WHITE SULPHUR SPRINGS. I never can forget the time and place At a resort in fair Virginia. An eve in August, skies serene and bright, A gay-hued party, riding in a mead, For youthful knights would play a tournament. Fair ladies thronged the place, expectant all. Right gallant was the sight, and every eye Was fixed delighted on the lovely scene. I gazed entranced — until a greater chann Fixed me to earth — for a strange vision flashed For the first time on my bewildered eyes. A lady of the South, young and most fair ; A figure seeming faultless ; a sweet head Which turned most gx^acefully to every view ; Rich chestnut hair luxuriant growing round ; Eyes heaven's hue, ere clouds were ever born ; Cheeks, lips, the rose and lily blent ; her air That of a queen who knows her power o'er hearts ; Teeth pure as pearls ; small perfect pink-hued hands; A voice, low, musical as streams ; a smile Like sunlight rising o'er some southern land. Nay, more was she — for my poor speech in vain 3 34 Would paint the beauty that surpasses all Her beauteous sex — Oh ! I would rather wed This fair untitled lady than the queen Whose mighty sceptre ruled o'er half this globe And should be happier with her as my wife In rural vale, than king on highest throne. THE LITTLE ORPHAN'S CRY. I am a hapless little orphan child, I have no home, no hearts to give me love, The eyes that once upon me kindly smiled Are gazing now on brighter scenes above. Although I feel that I am still their own, They dwell, alas ! so far, so far away, I am as one forsaken, all alone In dangerous, gloomy wilderness astray. No father, and no watchful mother here Ah ! what is this strange grief, to be alone ! And cold the faces which I see, appear. Not like the loving faces I have known. If friend I had, he could not be like those Who gave to me my being on this earth ; Ah, me ; oppressed, o'erwhelmed with many woes, I now have learned a living parent's worth. But yet, though miserable, I can pray ; My parents good while living taught me this, Before their sinless souls were called away To live forevermore in heavenly bliss :• And I'll entreat my King all fervently, The living Lord whose tniest name is Love, To bid my sainted parents watch o'er me And bring me safe to them and Him above. 35 TO E. C. If, beauteous girl I thou wouldst bestow Thy priceless love on me, This life should seem a heaven below \\Tiene'er I thought of thee. Thy face is fair, thy soul so pure Thou might'st my guardian be, Could bid me all my fate endure, Beloved and blest by thee I If, beauteous girl I when comes the hour To yield my mortal breath To Him in whose eternal power Are fleeting life, and death — If I then saw thee bending o'er My couch with eyes that rain. The sight my courage might restore To conquer life's last pain. SONG. Would I might own another love, And charms as dear as thine. For whom my broken heart could prove A passion as divine As the strong flame that burnt for thee Through many a happier year, And cherished now in memory. Through sorrow's winter drear. But oh ! how can this heart forget Its first, its only dream, Whose fond and sweet remembi-ance yet Gilds darkness with its beam ? 36 If I behold most lovely forms Thought flies to thee alone ; The fairest of all female charms Seem worthless by thine own. No, though my joy were passing deep To know a later love, When I might cease to sigh and weep For thee lon^ sped above. I know^ I never more may find On earth the blissful rest Which once I knew^ my brow reclined On thy fond, happy breast. THE UNIVERSITY AVENUE PAVEMENT ;DONa OR, TIME TAKEN BY THE FORELOCK. Med and Blackstone meeting. With the usual greeting, In their studious room, Lawyer made relation. With congratulation. Of the good news come. " People of the city Thinking it a pity, Got in better mood ; People of the wayside. Chiefly on the pay-side, Likewise growing good, Taking resolution. Paid their contribution To that happy end : 37 Smooth communication With the Junction Station, Thanks to some good friend. He by Heaven inspired, And sublimely fired, The conception caught, Using strong persuasion, Till the corporation To his terms were brought. We who came for knowledge To a musty college, Cabined, cribbed, confined, Laboring, while in season, To improve the reason And enrich the mind, Needing recreation, Found no slight vexation That we saw no ways, To secure the good end Dear to thoughtful student — Health and cheerful days. Exercise is pleasure, Earning costliest treasure, Doctor, you will say ; Power of frame they needed, All who e'er succeeded Climbing Fame's steep way. Question how long pending ! Fearful of expending Money for the pave ! City Fathers owling, On reporters scowling, Met in high conclave. 38 Voted to construct it, And the old ^Yalk, plucked it, • Heaving fragments far, Hying thick as grape-shot, Which full many an ape shot In the civil war. This long pending question . Finds unshaken rest on Glorious certainty ! .'-assed is fear's tuition, Hope becomes fruition, Joy to you and me ! Going to the shop, sir. To the German hop, sir. Private tete-a-tete ; Going to the churches, Pews, or airy perches. Certainly, if late. Yields the last named station Clearer observation Of the preacher's grace, Delivery and action. With the Word's impaction On each sinner's face. But, it were too much, sir. Briefly but to touch, sir. On each small detail ; For would I expatiate To an ear insatiate. Time and strength should fail. Suffice it that we know, sir, We may safely go, sir. Forth and back each day. 39 And if men will mind, sir, Shortly they shall find, sir, Walk will well repay." Law, with oped eyes glistening. Thought that Med M^as listening In abstraction deep ; But when closely viewed, he — Dear, delightful dude, he ! Soundly was asleep I THE SOUL. How transitory is the life Allotted here to man ! A few brief lurid mornings dawn And fill his little span. Then whither flies the spirit free From its material chain ? Does it all die, or lives it still Unbroken joy or pain ? The soul responds unto herself. If duller sense deny. And says her origin divine Permits her not to die. Away she speeds to higher spheres. Or sinks in darkest hell ; And not the calculus of heaven Her endless years shall tell. 40 JENNIE. AN IMITATION. Ho\v beauteous is the vernal rose Gay-blooming on its stem, When decked with morning's shining dew As with a diadem. When I behold sweet Jennie's cheek More blooming, softly bright, I own it shames the richest rose That ever oped to light. The pure, new-fallen, drifted snow In winter's sunlight gleams. Spread o'er the meadows, dales and hills. The silent, unseen streams ; 'Tis spotless as its native heaven, Though clothing nature now ; 'Tis not so white, 'tis not so fair As Jennie's lovely brow. The swan that swims along the lake. The ship upon the deep. The eagle's flight, the planets' walk Against the dark blue steep — More graceful movements I behold. When virgin Jennie flies, In measured dance, upon the green, The cynosure of eyes. How tuneful is the feathered choir. The mavis' mellow throat, The lark's exulting, joyful strain. The cushat's brooding note ! More charming is her vaiying voice, Enrapturing my ear, W^hen roving by these banks and braes, With gentle Jennie near. 41 The sparkling diamond, in the mine, That ne'er gave forth its glow, The trembling beams of silver star Within the wave below. Own less of purity and grace Than Jennie's heavenly mind, And this of all her matchless charms The dearest still I find. Oh, should sweet Jennie own her love For me, her humble slave, No other bliss, while life is mine. From fortune will I crave. I'll dwell contented with the good Which Heaven designed for me. And pray that we may thus be joined In blest eternity. But if dear Jennie's guiltless heart Denies that she can love, Still may she live the chiefest care Of all the powers above. And well I know no evil fate Sweet Jennie can betide ; She is too good, she is too near To heavenly souls allied. BELLE BONHAM. Hidden in a lonely vale. Closed by rugged mountains round, Where the boisterous arctic gale Sinks into a whispered sound ; 42 Where the feathered minstrels sing Through the balmy summer hours, And the humming bird's soft wing Poises o'er eternal flowers, Beautiful Belle Bonham smiles While time's current's gliding by, And my sad, lone heart beguiles By her witching melody. Men may seek the great, gay world, Mingling in its giddy train. In its vortex madly whirled Through a round of joy and pain. Happier is my peaceful home Deep within this flowery vale, Where no call of care can come. And sweet love can never fail ; While Belle Bonham sweetly smiles As time's current's gliding by ; And my lonely heart beguiles By her witching melody. THE RUSSIAN DRUMMER BOY. The Turk and Russian once at war, A Christian drummer boy was ta'en ; He bore no bleeding wound or scar. And yet he knew a mortal pain. For in their garrison near by Then lay his comrades' shrunken band ; Hard was the stress, and they must die Unless the post were newly manned. 43 Gladly the foemaii sees their state, Will take them now by stratagem ; The boy shall cause his country's fate, And make destruction sure to them; Shall lead a party at midnight, Beating his land's inspiring air — Tliey hail the music with delight, Certain that friends are hastening there. TUey throw the castle's portal wide And fall a willing, easy prey, And swell the haughty Moslem's pride, His song on many a festal day. The column marches, breathless sWl ; No strain, or whisper, wakes the night. Till coming where the notes may thrill His sleeping comrades' sense aright, He rolls his land's alarum long, The hated " onset" of their foes. So, warned, the place becomes too strong. Each hero roused up from repose. His land was saved, but the fell crew Scowled darkly on the patriot boy ; Him with their cimeters they slew, To die for friends and home his joy. WOODS IN OCTOBER. Above the wood that clothes the mountains' side. My vision strays where bright red spots reveal The inward wound that summer would conceal Where hidden runs her being's pulsing tide. 44 Yet more and more her garments gay are dyed, The more the woeful, ghastly truth's gainsaid ; Her breast and arms with crimson blood is red, Till all her rich array is sprent and pied. No more resounds the joyful chant of bird, Or wooing zephyr kisses blushing rose ; Only from oped and deep red lips is heard A sad, low, faint, half- audible, weird moan, Like some unhappy, dying spirit's tone — ' Unchecked her gushing life-blood freely flows. AN IDEAL. I know a fair possessing every grace That Fortune ever gave to female kind, A perfect symmetry of form and face. Most winning manners, perfectly refined. And mind as pure as is the morning star That glitters in the azure sky afar. So bright is she to wondering mortal eyes. They deem enchantment's spell doth hereby lurk, E'en cunning Nature's self doth feel surprise Beholding now her own unrivalled work ; Yet Heaven reveals to those who walk in light What charm doth make her beauties beam so bright. Beauty is less in feature and in tint. Although by these our eyes' true praise is won ; But virtue there perfection doth imprint, And forms a thing more glorious than the sun. We doubt that which we see, if woman she. Or angel with concealed wings, may be. 45 ON PARTING FROM A FRIEND. Ah ! see the precious moments go Ere friend shall part from cherished friend, One sadly marks the mournful flow, The measure, sand by sand, descend. They're gone, and silent teai^s he sheds. One stolen moment lingers yet ; Then wanders where a deseii: spreads Whose darkness echoes but regret. If placed 'mid gayest festal scene, Where maddened mirth holds revel high ; Men mark the mutely musing mien, The fixed or wandering vacant eye. Oh, when in those revolving years My dearest friend is memory, These eyes shall shed their saddest tears That thou, loved one ! art far from me. LILLIE'S IN HER GRAVE. Lillie's in her narrow, silent grave. Where in the valley clustered violets wave, Where the airs and brooklets blend their sighs^ Echo from her mossy seat replies. Galliard thrush upon the blooming spray. Balanced sings the whole bright year away. And the mingling tones of stream and wood Lose them in his strain's strong gushing floods Lillie's in her silent, narrow grave. Where the thick-sown azure violets wave, Sweet is nature's requiem toning near. She loved all, and to all she was dear: 46 m But the loud glad carol of the bird, Bears the thought which my quick sorrow stirred, And I think dear Lillie's angel voice, Echoes here to bid my heart rejoice. A HYMN. My foes are many, great and strong, And dangers compass me ; Like mariner who momently Sinks in the hollow sea. For rescue strain my fearful eyes, Yet none relieves my sight ; Fate shrouds the wide and watery waste In black and awful night. Still higher rise the crested seas, And toss my barque on high. While lightnings flame and thunders crash From all the laboring sky. O hasten. Lord, my God ! to save, Nor let me perish now. Say "peace, be still!" a rainbow's hues vShall smile on Ocean's brow. THE MINSTREL. " I once beheld a minstrel with his lyre. With wildly rolling eyes and panting breast, And reason told me that celestial fire Had then become that suffering bosom's guest." 47 " What song or songs did that strange minstrel bring In sounding measures to your hstening ear ? I fain would hear you tell what he did sing, For I to bard inspired near yet came near." ** He praised the heroes of his native land, Who forced insulting foes to sue for peace. Her lords who swayed a genei'ous command, Her sages whose renown shall never cease." " And was the strain thus ever loud and high, Of glorious deeds, of never-dying fame. Which, filling, with its trumpet, all the sky. Yet echoes round each proud ascendant name?" " No ; once e'en 'mid the loftiest soaring part The song descended to a minor tone ; It told of baffled hopes, and breaking heart. And sorrow ceasing in the grave alone." INEZ. I sing the praise of Inez, The peerless southern flower, Who left her genial climate To deck my northern bower. Her eye is like the sunlight, - Her form the lily's grace, Or what the mind imagines The fairies' beauteous race. Her voice is like the music That floats o'er tropic sea And lingers in old love songs In happy memory. 48 As in some precious casket The costliest gem we find, Her all-unrivalled beauty Adorns a heavenly mind. Who that beholds such beauty A stoic's pride could prove ? And I, O peerless Inez ! I cannot choose but love. BE A MAN. When the organ-ditty's pla,ying Don't.linger near the spot, W^ith careless vision straying As though you listened not — For, passed the time of praying. Hell grows exceeding hot ! NOTE. The writer of these poems was born in Louisa county, Va. He is a graduate, and he was at one time a Professor in an educational institution. Mr. Bartley owns real estate in Orange county, Va., but he passes the principal portion of his time in Charlottesville, Va. tK' I