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Las cartes, planches, tableaux, etc., peuvent dtre filmds it des taux de rMuction diffdrents. Lorsque le document est trop grand pour Atre reproduit en un seul clich6, il est film6 A partir de I'angle sup6rieur gauche, de gauche A droite, et de haut en bas, en prenant le nombre d'images ndcessaire. Les diagrammes suivants illustrent la mdthode. 22t 1 2 3 4 5 6 Poetry and oems of . . Alfred Stafford. * * Daily Musintrs . Of , . . A Boy Poet ^ -7 r-»n I rK C^^V^: \^0)% J?/li? (: Introduction. 'jy^. To whom it may oonoern : At it ia ouatomary, ao ia it equally important for me to adjoin with thia volume a auitable Preface or Introduotion, which I truat ahall prove aervioeable, iotereating and inttruotive to every eye about to aoan ita printed page. Now that I am about to preaent to the world my firat edition of poetical viewa, I oonaoientioui- ly feel that auoh would not be complete without firat apprlaing my readera of a few facta concerning it and ita Aui.aor'a Life. It ia not my intention to here aaaert that thia little Volume of Poema did not originate amid auch patha aa labor, time and diaadvantage. Written and compoaed in harmony with thoae weary feelinga which dally aurround the bnay toil of ruatio life. Authorizedby a heart, mini and pen ataooiated from infancy with farm duty, humble anrronndinga and common country life, with iu ruaticity. The prodnotiona of a gift, cheriahed and excrciaed by a youthful career, face to face with the oppoaing elementa of life ; atrengthened by many peculiar diaadvantage* of an independent, aenaitive nature ; bleaaed with but an average education, obUined from thoae enriching and fccholaatio viewa of a common country aohool. How early it my daily abaence gneated, How rich waa I to be ao richly bleaaed ! Where once a maater'a eye had longed again to trace. Before hia deak, my atudiuua clever face, Whoae pen he aimed to match with ready will, Whote pencil loved to tiijmph u'er hia » kill. (From Poem on "The Old School.") Nor ia thia all, aa many of my fiaeat aelsotionK were firnt memorized from the traoinga of a nail or pencil on a board or pt'at, then written down hurriedly at night, auch aa •• The Spirit of Reform," " Wedding Bella," " My Mother," »to., whoae Brat writing and originality to day adorn theae printed pagea. I am alto obliged to inform thoae, my readera, that thia little wok (none of which haa ever been hitherto publiahed) ia but a portion of my entire writing*, which the lack of means hath neceaaitated me to omit from the preaent edition. Hoping that the public will in the meantime extend to me a liberal patronage to further aasiat me in my present undertaking, and to them 1 here extend thia pleating asaurance, that ere long I may be spared to placed within the reach of every home a more complete and substantial work. In order to introduce the preaent volume into every home, it haa been my constant aim to set my price it so low a figure that np family need be without literature in this progressive age. Yours by birth, ALFRED STAFFORD, POET. Bom in the township of MoKillop, Huron County, the 26ih day of July, 1877. NEujskSAkY COKKECTIONS—Page 1, laat four verses ai« aupplied with the title "If." Page-' Now and forever, but never. Page 40, "The Riverside," 8th verse. How well they cheer me in thia place.— By The Author. k ir Poetry and Poems ALFRED STAFFORD. f.inn written the dav foUoiciitfr our Eh- ! tvoriU Liagiic UirthUnv Parly, held in Walton Meihodiit Church, February 22nd, 1898. Our Birthday Party. Our birthday social now ifi patt, Ju8t what it was to be ! A treat moBt grand and yet a feast To last enternally ; How sweet her fruits wore gathered home, Where satan ne'er shall sever, Or out apart, loves chorded hearts Forever and forever. Every day may be a birthday To celebrate as then. For man while here is destined free The rights of birth again. True he may not have a party. Nor yet behold a feast, A daily birth in soul and ni nd Ranks not of fame the least. Yesterday eve in Glory sped Id peace with one accord ; Souls spent upon our meeting nights An evening with the Lord, To oflebrate His spirts birth In buds now opened flowers ; His church of love enjoyed this treat, So lived our sleeping houis. We served out to all refreshments. For body, mind and soul ; As bread alone can not sustain Our lives as one grand whole ; Now past and o'er in truth I say : All hearts were homeward driven, Those words of cheer and eougs of praise Are stored for us in Heaven. Some friend hath missed it here on earth, This treat the spirits love ; But league with us thy hand and hearU And share it far above ; Dear brother seek in Christ a birth. From earth direct thy flight, We lon^ to have thee share with us, Our triumphs for the right. Lines Written to a Mother About to Witness the Untimely Death of Her Only Beloved Child. All glory to the Father be, Now angels seek above ; How soon their hands shall bear from thee i his spirit of thy love. Make this thy sorrow known to God, Not fully known to men ; Soon he will hear and bear thee up. Lest ye would fall again. If ye from God had given power, Would'st thou recall thy child From such a home of peace and love • To wickedness defiled. T'is for thy sake he cometh now. To prove thy love untried ; Compare these pains to those Christ bore. Nailed to the trf .is died. Uncertain visitant of he past, Ye word of stand still growth ; T wixt truth and error thou art classed. To mark our place in both. Thou ar't but simple yet great in power, Denying man his stiength ; Ye word which reason speaks each hour. And measures pride it's length. True thou hast the power to divide Our faith of hearts from God ; * Yeii raise us on the wings of doubt. False unbelief to land. Upon thee first doubting trust is formed. Uncertain is this end ; Minds seeking thus and thus adorned, Ketain a mortal friend. J! ^"Jt^^'n^}""'. ""■'"*" S>*>*day, February also includes the following verse I Poetry and Potmt of Alfnd Stafford. Sin. Craal disobadienM fint tempUtloa. Th« onlj one from truth j Kv«r 6rat and aver lut to yield vaiation In yean wbioh follow yoath, Only thii once we hear the pleading ohild, First prompted by iu word from impnlaoa ■elf-deaire, Unreatrained the apiriu growth ia natural wild : Why now withhold thy training word of fire, Beneath the aanthine of the eky ; Weakly first let the spirit die. The Kinff of Beasts. Weak man alone is king of beaaU, For he alone will say : Ye daie to use his tongue gain'st truth And utter in his simple way There is no God. Hearken to him who made the earth. Reason dusty lover. Study nature but know thyself And sure it ia you will discover There is a God. Scan the stars throughout the Heaven's, To question if they shine in vain ; Study actions of the heathen And lovely flowers of the plains. They praise a God. Man himself is weak, imperfect, A fool if not denied ; All his strength doth tend to weaken. When living in his selfish pride Without a God. Into the esg within the shell His hand is clever shown. In inseoU life, in daily life, We see the mark of His alone. The hand of Gcd. Within a volume book of truth. Is wisdom perfect given ; It's love and power doth foretell By it's promise of a Heaven, The voice of God. Where is there such another shown Amid the works of man ? Where was there wisdom ever known, So full and perfect in it's plan. Without a God T There ia a God who reignsth o'er This darkened earth of nighta. There ia a God forevermore Ready to flood ihe soul with light. Such is my God. By •^■'7 Md night He walks Irith us, To light us on our way, And always shall we know him thna If we conceive by faith His ray. A ray of God. He gives us reason to behold, A gift not born of fleeh ; This morUI life proves at it's best. To be a net of deathly mesh. Our mortal God. Immortal is the spirits beam That sheds abroad his light. And everlasting is that stream Which always flows on day and night. The love of God. The stars which shine beyond the saaa. The day it's sure retura ; "^ From each and all of every phase. We oould not fail if we would learn. The power of God. The premise in His word fulfilled. Gives us His high ideal ; To ever let our minds be tilled, For prayer and praise will still reveal The truth of God. '^"mulf' "** "^' «>««pWng doubts. Whilst tomptinff storms may roar ; From hearts to Godour praises shout ; Soon we shall go forever more To live with God. The Sinners Bpitaph. Hbbb Knklt thb Ihaoi of th« Lord. This is the spot, now mark it well. Within this tomb a sinner fell : Vet died not till his spirit fled. And numbered with the tempting dead : But God of Heaven lent a hiSid,* And raised him up again to stand. This resurrection unto truth. Gave back the vigor of his youth ; To live by prayer in sweet accord, Here knelt the image of the Lord ; ^nghath he passed,his earth was riven. He lives with God, he resU in Heaven ; May all who see this as they trod, Laud not this spirit, but it's God. Abovt this trampled duet, Ufa ia above, below ia death ; Our Qod ia love and elaima our breath. I B H D H H( H H( He i Ho 1 Ho { Ho i Ho Ho V Hoi A Hoi A Hoi U Hov A Ho« T Hon T« To-nigl Gone Afloat Ihey Yes! I Clear Unselfii Greal Perhapi Oh I L'>st ne Lost I Pottry and Potmt of Mfnd Stufford. n I with light. Ika irith n*. '» r him thiw Hiany, hold, 'it's beat, nesh. ia light. Mm ky Mid night. >nd the gaze, I ; phaae, rould la»ro, d. ilfilled, led, II atill reveftl doubta, may roar lea about ; more ph. hb Lord. rail, t; f ing dead ; J. ud. bh; >rd, ord ; 'aa riyen, Heaven ; lod. ir breath. Shattered Morale. How many are the thoughtful worda. Riaao, yet never apoken I How many are the promiaed enda. Awake a la«t bur. broken I ^ «T.?'f*!i *" ""•■ thoi'Jthta of love. Divided by theee aeia«h Uoguea, Where friendahipa fall ap.wt t How often pity ia pityful. And aid ia time la aeverod I How often obedience ia a /rown, And never half endeavored I How olten our charity i« i, aham. And not through love ai.ioere I How often praiae ia ahatUd blow, And not the worda of oheer I How often envy takee her riae Againat a proaperona aoul I How often paaaiooa do deapiae Theapiriu aelf control t How often we negleot to pray. Until that hour ia paat t How often ambition rulee thia mind And never found at laat 1 How many are thoae bitter worda. Never again recalled I "o* nwny •" thoee anxiona hearta. Where pen haa never aorawled ! HOW many h«ve auch aelf oonoeit. Aa will not bow to toil I How many have auch filthy tonguea. Aa tempt olean lipa and apoil ! How many do control themaelvea. Unknown to their heart ! How many move in oirdea gay An empty poliahed cart T "Mr many rue each faUl *,.>!' They loat in time of yoni i , How many thought,yea I Thought to late. To live a life of truth I ■ -e Past Friendship. To-night my mind before the evening calm. Conoeivea fond friendahipa of the paat : Afloat on time'a river at memory'a danT ihey atiU are gathered now to laat. Ym ! I hear thoae voioea in the waters, Unaelfiah, each ripple aa it totted ; Great ia thia atream and true it'a flow. ^ n^T-Srl"" ''^^' P*"^ *' by unnoticed, On 5 V7hat a journey thia to aee ; Loat neath pleaaurea of a aelfiah apirit. Lost now and to forever be. Found amid my ohoioeat reoollectiona. Are thoae familiar ohimee which feU. And called me from pleaaurea and affeotiou. To treaaurea neath the achoolday bell. Friendahipa were they indeed of nnkaowa worth, Which I behold loet now and then i Such golden minntea unknown to daelta. Could I but live auch o'er again. Encourage othera ia much better far. To leave thoee patha. which oauae my rent. Than ioae the profiU of the preeent hour, U er which aome make a long lament. Stand and Wait. Laat night I Juat at the cloee of day. When darkneaa dimed my eight. I Mked the Lord what muat I «Io ? From Heaven flaahed a light j I bowed my head and hid my faoe. _ I knew not of my fate. When down to me a voice replied : Be patient 1 Stand and wait. Amin I aaked amid my feara. How muat I bear my paina. For Lord Thou knoweth of my cheer. Thou alao ahared my gaina T I liatened aa I did before, I knew not of my fate, Again to me that voice replied : Be patient t Stand and wait. Aoain I aaked with weeping eyea. How muat thia thing do r My faith ia weak in thee dear Lord, My word ia falae untrue. I liatened aa I did before, I knew not of my fate. Again to me that voice replied : Be patient I Stand and wait. Twaa then I knew the voioe that apoke. I raiaed my head to aeek ; But of myaelf, I could not aee But darkneaa cold and bleak. Then I remembered of thoae worda. When I knew not my fate, That voice to which the fleah waa dead : Be patient ! Stand and wait. Books. Ye hoolcs I With a') **"• >-: '^-i^- t j -= - ■ Titus., ^.j^ sBvTTieago atorod, Can'at never make the man. The worae ia picked— the beat ignored. To pleaae aome natural plan. Pottry and Potmt of Al/nd Stafford. eye, I. A Binner Bo'd. When I, H tinner Udrl and loit, I would not 1)6 tonlrollnd ; How I woi.ld thwal when 1 wm oroued. No irtithii did I love told. Myevery litilo with nnd whim W»i nut «• Ood would care it. Thii foolith life !■ full of utrife. My loul tnait p»y or ihiire it. •■ Ood. Unjf" '"'ng. fountain of love divine, Who halh such preoioun ore, Within . hrart auUtantial and lublime ^ in thine forever more ; E»oh panning hour tt-li'ih power, Power wn should know ; Draw near and laud This living (jod. Whose truth forever flowt. Saored being veiled from this earthly Jr,5 Dove!. Not earth built treasures of m&n4ind Take God With Thee. If thou would'Ht reap in time of harvest If thou would'st love or lover be. And concent rate each day the farthest. Take God with thee. If thou would'st have a hope of Heaven Up where the happy ransomed see. And lose i hyself from those now riven. Take God with thee. If thou would'st have a faith unbroken, High gifted spirit of the free. And lift up truth, yet never spoken. Take God with thee. If thou would'st have a peaceful spirit, If thou would'st through piet aaes see, Ami the spirit of praver to cheer ft. Take God with thee. Poetry and Potmt of Alfnd Stafford. fall, evil ! may Bv'il, h g«ll. B«l? y[hbi)r ? ««l ? int? e niting, to be ? '•t ({•rner, (8on taught, id growth of 'own conceit ; leraelf would ture'it law. rhee. I harvest, ' be, »rtheat. Heaven d aee, ■ riven, broken, ten, spirit, ages aee. ■it, Books. Ye lMH)lia ! Wiih all ihy knowledge ainred, (>«ii'at Dtiver make the man. The wiime is pi-jked— the beat ignoied, To piraae aoiiie iialuial pUn, fur niioh rnlulda hiH nairuw view ; Uiiitiihured fallow witiiif, Thy liiihea deiut await the word to go Auc» live bevond (he skies 5 1 ts ! leave this oold deceitful earth Behind for paradise, I know (Jod guides me day and niaht. Through faith He walklh near" My wings are prone to v.<>rship riuht. Instil me Lord with cheer. eauty pain. L««ve is spirit ; not this earth. It's fire warmth not it's hearth ; Yet must we hold her less she rise Beyond our reach in vacant skies. When (Jod supplies they cook us food, A^hioh others taste to share our good ; I here conclude yet more I find. If ye would know expand in mind. How Would I Like to Travel. How would I like to travel ? Is a question of the pasi<. For how would means unravel Little threads for me to grasp ; But contentment is a treasure When epoken by my O.nA ; Whilst travelling is a measure. Weighed out to wealth abroad. Poetry and Potma of Alfnd Stafford. The aailon of the ocean Ser'th sceneii they can't describe. The pleMure seeking tourist, Many truths that won't abide, For the devil and bis angels Divide them in his heart. Thus untruthful is the changeling, Which bids the child depart. How scenes that wing the ocean. How the billows ot the sea, How ships which stir her motion. Could waft miny thoughts to me ; How great churches are but steeples. And never half revealed. Of false beauty and her peoples. How truth is left concealed. How would I like to travel ? Is a question of the past, And may in time unravel Little threads for me to grasp ; Bye and bye is in the future. Unspoken by my God, Like travelling she hath measures. Weighed out to go abroad. Hideiner to Slumber. Entertained must be thy slumbers, Within thy cot with thee. Be patient ! If the loft en umbers, No better place have we. I wish you well, my host said he, As I went to retire, I thanked him as I bid adeau, Then left his grateful fire ; Before I lost the staircase step, His words rose up as true. And e're I to my room had crept, Their meaning well I knew. In going naked to my bed, Where coldness met repose ; The chill was great, I might have said, ibeik shivering to the noes ; My watering eyes, that running nose. Where addet to the scene. The wind it howled, the shutters swore I'lofanely with a scream ; How could I sleep on such a night. Amid such piercing roar ! MZ,o"" *•" ^ "aoh the shore. With hope above the lost, For he hath slept on such a night, Uiapite the piercing roar ; His cuddled limbs met with deliaht. They mostly met btfore. Shall We know Our Jesus There. Up in Heaven's ohoicist borders. Lights of truth are shininer there ; Sacred to his mighty orders. Shining, shining ! everywhere. What a scene for us to witness. Reward of true and devout prayer ! Can we safely say in spirit We shall know our Saviour there. Shall we know our blessed Jesus • Are we still of mortal breath ; ' Are we waiting, are we waiting. Waiting to be lost in death ? Shall we know our blessed Jesus, He who give'ih light on high ; Are we waiting, are we waiting, Him again to oruaify ? When beset by strong temptations, tsball we know our Jesus there ? When the world is robed with darkness. May we know him still in prayer ! Shall we walk ! yes, walk with Jesus, 10 know him not when troubles glare ! Must we thus forget our duty Unto Jesus everywhere. Poetry and Poema of Alfred Stafford. BUS There. A Lesson Taught. The aunbeana aparkle on my face, Thia lotrely mnroinK apot and place ; I dream that I dwell here alone, Aa 1 behold an upturned atone. My thoughta are buried in a mind, Tu often found throughout mankind ; SiMin I deny my pridea enchant, Whilat I l>ehold a buay ant. Some thoughtleaa foot engaged to roam. Hath overturned this nature's Btone ; I look to see the havoc made. When audden thought at once ia laid. With eager look do I observe Sume burden it ia a alave to nerve. It meeta with triumph, but, alaa ! You fallen rail, it faiU to pann. Trying, trying, becomea it'a plan. Where waa ever auoh pluck in man ? Now half the diatanoe hath it gaic^d. But strength is failing once retained. See it aecuring burden there. Then up it mounts itaelt with care ; How soon returned to toil a^ain. Spied by it'a brother paaaing then. Down he cnmea half way to meet it. At the top two othera greet it, Now fully relieved of it'a load It follows on to their abode. Look to nature, be not thou blind. It proves examplea to the mind ; Be not aelfidh in deed or thought. Was in thia leabon which they taught. An Early Poem— No Title Given My house waa divided, My father resided. Kind, yet careleiis hia way ; Such good will and atature. Men knew of hia nature. And tempted him often to atray. Te edil ! dididdle ! Hia body would fiddle, Tunea moat common to know ! They would ahine on hia face ^ When performed out of grace. Whilst mind proved hia unoho^en bow. Ripe deoiaion was rare About him I declare. True a oontmon disgrace ; He varied in wonder. Imperfect to blunder. Like others concerning hia race. Unripe education Brought on hia vexation, Klan he would'nt thua fell ; Deapite toleration Cornea this conaolation. He really and truely meant well ! Lines Written After Viewing the Life and Death of a Beautiful Flower. A darliug pure and sweet she came. And aweet ahe cume and went ; A taate of earth waa all she wiahed. Her life was upward bent. The cohl earth waa not praiae worthy, Of beauty there inalilled. For at her death unto thia eatth Her dust waa all ahe willed. Her beauty owed not to shadows. It faded with the night ; Each lovely tint which she poaseased Waa known by the light. Thua the ruler of all nature. Which know'th not repose. Knew well her life of unaeen breath. And thua by faith she roae. From whence the aun poured forth his rays She early bent her head. And perished with hia setting gaze, For thua I found her dead ! A day was all ahe could desire In life born unto fame. This example do I require To meet a birth the same. T'was but a flower perfect gem, Conveyed unceen by men, Who trample high with aelfiah tread O'er leMons taught to them ; No end hath Ood created vain Uafit for manhood's use ; But fools are we who tread our way To treat them with abuse. Yet more and more t'is my desire, One wholeaonie to be ruled ; To oeaae from paasiona erring fire. And be by nature achooled ; In error have I cnived to read Such books, unfit as mine. But nature is an open book — A book of hooka divine. 8 Poetry and Potmt of Alfred Stafford. No gold oan'st buy or yet reserve My right to learoh her through. No human mind is wise enough To say she is untrue ; Each humble mind her widom seelcs. (iod lovetb such to be. The rich cannot hf :• treasures buy, Her teachings flow as free. Examples are her mighty works, Which form her entire span ; They all point out in faith to show, And elevate the man ; Imperfection must first subdue And thus deny my strength, Then soon wilt rise a life which few Could ascertain in length. God's spirit ruleth nature's ends To sympathize with our ; Thus have I here been lifted up /»u 7 ?«? *•"*" withered flower ; Uh ! What a space the spirit tills To reap, if souls endeavor. And who wilt doubt the truth of this Forever and forever. The Butcher. Oh ! the butcher, Oh ! the butcher, An honest man is he, Out riding where the breezes blow, His smiling face I see, With meat cut up to hide the bone To tempt the farmers buy ; ffJi""' ^ ^^^^ " ^^ *''>'• moves The country to supply. Oh ! the meat that butcher sold. It wasn't fit to eat ! When e're you'd cut the slices off They d make a quick retreat. His sight was good enough to see. He sold it by the pound ; He gave good weight at any rale, If It had but been sound. No ice adorned his covered rig To chill the maggot fly ; ®mi"'^'' ^^ "*"'* *"'* "till he The country to supplj . Oh ! the meat that butcher sold. It was'nt fit to eat ! ^hen e're you'd cut (he slices off They d make a quick retreat. He carried sausage boil and roast Cut up with tasty trim ; Its freshness was his constant I II say his name was J ; T'was old before he took it far. went boast, But sell it he must try. That tainted stuff where skippers jar. 1 he country to supply. Oh ! the meat tha ►, butcher sold. It was'nt fit to eal ! When e're you cut the slices off They'd make a quick letreal. Twice weekly he would come about And slop right at your door, And raise his old accustumed shout : T'«.^*?.S tf ■ ^'" "^*"'*P • " <""=« more : T » ac old before he took it far, But sell it he must try ; That tainted stuff where skipper's jar. Ine country to supply. Oh ! the meat that butcher sold. It was'nt fit to eat ; When e're you'd cut the slices off i hey d make a quick retreat. Smartness Is smartupsi always a virtue ? No, more often a shum ! But now one thing it is certain. That true t'is a tool used by man. Of*! it will cut because narrow, Then false pride gifts his find ; How It doeth thrill through man', mariow. But ever leaves vacant his mind. Up from the dust by the roadside Urifts there smartness to please • AIM such dust is not smarlness. Comes such with the spirit and bret ze. So may I learn to be humble. Gifts are borrowed not mine, And may pure truth bo their guidance. *ttr beneath this surface of time Mother's Words. Son obey your mother's words. If she be still a mother ; Soon her calling shall pass by. Then m vain you oft shall sigh I!6ssed ber loving voice * Reason. Here lost unseen amid the depths of thought. Ashamed to write, ashamed to idle be. Ashamed to fully trust thee graoious God ; True, well hast thou in truth remembered me. Great thought kindled in the breasts of ages past, Rose from some tongue touched with thy spark of fire ; Overwhelmed with joy from griefs to rise. Such is power and such I do require. No voice oan'st heal which mortal will hath raised ; No storms shall cease by human strength or word ; No second power can'st rise to quenched the first. Whilst envy against it ever shall be stirred. I, created first within earth's bosom, To mortal hand was workmanship unknown ; Yet where is skill to fashion or comply. Or equal his invisible here shown. Yes, everywhere if reason would abide, Would light be shown within this mortal heart ; And void of doubt hia truths would smooth- ly glide. To bid our gates of error all depart. My BUegy in Nature's Darkness. Composed in measure, combining truth, soundness and depth. THE AUTHOR. The toil of day hath sped before the face of night. In silence sank the hours to rest, but not alone ; Like them our younger heaito are lost in calm repose. Unknown and unconscious time is speeding Some insect life which charmed the thought- ful gaze : ^ The grateful throats which touched in note , and praise. Lay cradled in the bosom of the night. A veil hath hid the sUrry firmament above, No breath or breeze disturb these peaceful scenes at rest. Such intervals between the sometimes slumbering wake. Our landscape lamps, as if to pilot and to guide, Stretch forth a star unto this lonely spot. Where flys strike forth a quick uncertain light, A startling view this darkness to amuse. ^''ii£nT^**f *"* '*" **"" ''"* ''"*'" *•'• As if to yawn away the space twix't sleep- ing hours ; *^ Perhaps desire to fill the vacant space Ihe whipporwill had made to close the dav or ope the night ; ' Strange some hidden songster should now break forth. Unseen, yet he by his song is known, Charming taste, lor darkness withholds the rest. What a picture is here conveyed before av mmd ! ' No eye beholds the vividness of nature's ftrt f She comes instilled within the spirit clear through faith. All other gates in error bids her truths de- part. The waters move through aid to move along: TliO grasses flourish well when ere sfe weeps ; Thus I learn thy good, sympathizing tear. Trees in uninson are moved by the unseen. Throughout doth reason guide by some im- pulse unknown ; Great truths, which man would vain disclose, still rest with God ; No vain thing hath he created as man would When he would'st live without his maker's law. S/^u^'^i^'iy "''ea'eth thou such wisdom. Within this humble brow, unworthy mind. Here all alone in solitude. I rest with thee ; Thou knoweth my desire, my thirst ii quenched ; While many sleep within their earthly tombs, ye feedeth me ; ' Often when I would'st speak to rise or showy be, Ye ruleth, yea deny my tongue all power : But when returned alone with the to dwell 1 learn the truth and wisdom of thy wajs. ' Oft this same sad sacred spot I knew, know as now ; * I feared the darkness, then was I unborn of (jrod ; ^""wlth^ The^ thy peace and light, I spend The Bight, the richest momenta man hath ever known ! This cage is but a cradle, yet to be To rook the infant child that can'st not 10 Poetry and Poema of Alfred Stafford. walk, Till it reoeiveth strength direct from Heaven. Well may I be timed in purity to receive, To stand upon high vantage ground when called away From this tabernacle to that substantial throne. Clad as angels in robes to praise forever more ; My weakness telleth where my weakness lies ; Each triumph gaineth me required strength To battle with the thorns upon my way. The right of choice is given unto all who thirst ; The bee peitaketh of the tasty and to good, For such their glorious choice none could' well refuse ; To thee those rustic trees which mirk my presence here. Which by day hath swayed the chittering squirrel ; Kussel slightly before this short lived breeze. As if to call me homeward from this spot. Lives once wasted, but repented in dying Drowsy, yet mind is temple fearless of the ! <«i,„ .w'"!!^ -i i night; i Should not daily within the ear bo left Thus toil must bear it to the humble heart. The very breath which taints this fragrant air to muse, Gives forth new life at each heartfelt in- spired draw ; So is It now, as when first the man breathed forth life. Into his nostrils did he receive the breath of God ; Our life lies daily within his hand to quench, Deadly pressure is he at will to give, Or draw it forth into another world. Oft have I pondered, but have never thought so vain, As mortal sought to fully independent be j I'onvinced through reason, ye great teacher of the soul. That lives of prayer and praise must light our dwelling here ; So youth hath passed with all her idle dreams, As sea- on 4 pass with every morning sun From us to never, never more return. night ; Now strengthens and rules beyond the power of sleep ; Behold the many who have gifts to pen their page, Have yielded to this temptine God, in peace sleep on ; But woe shall find them at their troubled wake. When age is born, the spark about to fade. And view beside their talent nothing done. Show me the gift not worth the cultivated gain ! Point out to me the mind unwoithy of it's muse ! Dead is that critic's heart which aeeks to hew away, Yet doth not build itself a higher, better make. Why judge the weak at equal with thine own ? This same said sword by which ye love to cut. Unmercifully by it shall ye be judged. Our aouls may grow into conceited selfbuilt strength. And ever rule at leitare in times little day ! Men may live to boast physically a giant great, And yet intellectually an erring child : Wisdom is not conceived by moital eye ; So wisely hidden it shall always be, unheard. When danger meets us face to face at every step ; •' Consider of this universe through which we tread. And view in heart the frailness of the man Inducted through truth we, vile sinner's learn ; Dust thou art, and unto dust thou shall re- turn. The Mirror of Our God. View we within the mirror of our God The eye fur such, it is Deceiver, reverse of faith used to laud And look on all as his. The inward eye within this Tiansion dwells, been but by those who know the true divine, To weep whilst mortal eye in mischief swells • But when reversed it ever seeks to dine. The true light of the body is the eye. When mortal such we see. When spiritual this temple then is high And ever seeks to be. True faith through spirit is it's noble guide, One which can'st never fail to kuide aright ; Ihough round it lurk the moeking voice of pride. Withdrawing by day, returning by night. Poetry and Poema of Alfred Stafford. 11 but have never It thou shall re- Sonnet. OuUide beauty pilethenvy within the heart Irue the loveliest form wh'oh nature can produce Falls a prey beneath this vile instinct and desire. The laws of God are not the laws of man Frotrayed in lull, when he would 'st a temple make ; The tenth he gave to shelter and to clothe the rest, Still Christ perceived them yet without a spire. Heaven his great belfry, he rose to build above ; He the bell to call forth and raised the numbered dead. To bloom in sacred faith a life beyond the skies ; Love for it's mission to prove the first un- altered, Unchangable His law, His spirit rules the same. Thus Heaven is Christ's palace, if we would'st enter, Great is that pass and only sought through ! His most holy name ' Learn Ye The Lord to Pear. To-night if He would'st call thee, Would'st thou be ready friend ? Would'st thou in fulness grace a P»th of woe 2 I yx?Vf^^^r}'^^ *"'"«" 0* »''« measure, i Whilst false pride inspires hearU to down- I ward go. IV A living spirit brings us a blessing ! One to warm these our deadened hearts of night ; Kver found the tiuy spaik caressing In life, such is our God and such our light evening at My Journey. Written and composed one sunset, Mareh 2nd, 1898. My journey though long is nearly wended ; This temple soon must pasa into decay. As yon towering cloud row is blended. Behind is nature's tints before the way ; Well may these transparent moments jrlad- den, " Thus, my effect the future here shall trace Kvery cloud is rich when viewed in sun- shine ; And my life though ye know no smiling face. From memory of a lost poem, enough to preserve the metre, style and title, which was termed as Trouble. Trouble, trouble in the air, Ttouble, trouble everywhere, Trouble, trouble all to soon ! Trouble, trouble in the air. Trouble, trouble all to scare, Trouble, trouble, condescending to the tomb. Heaven with light is a treasure. Heaven is shining in gold ! Heaven shall never give pleasure lo spirit of earth uncontrolled. Laugh hearty friend at jokes ye crack so well Possess ye wit, but genius is not thine s Well do ye draw the eye and mind with ease ; But when alone thyself thou vain would please ; 12 Poetry and Poem$ of Alfred Stafford. My oonveraation low uopolished ■till, Tempt, not my mind to p«H beyond my will. A tnok may hold a surfaoe touched with oil Of many color* touched in rainbow lines ; Whilit neath the tcum upon thia flattered pool, Stagnation in but water could prevail. Ye come and beg me go and act the fool. Becau e my surface speech deficient is ; But underneath my treasure is secure lieyond the guess of all who seek to know Xmibation can but wield itself tubes And beat against ray rock a hollow sound. Until the mind which now with eaie Stands up in pride, for well he thinks Knowledge and truth crieth out with power. Definitions. I Poetical development is yet in its in- fancy, and Its progressive channels are as numerous as our future extension 6t life. II Poetical genius is the ideal power of Ian- atruoti """*'' *'' "* •P'"">»1 oun- III That the faculties of the true poet area gut rrom God is a fact undisputable. IV iJ!}^^ *' ?' !?*'*''•"■ • **y mother is the invisible church of God. ina^i'* "V '**'"'i • **^ '*^'>«'- *• the liv. hi-* Hia word my food and Hiaapirit thereof my materials of comfort. What is a son ? A son is a beinir sovern- ed by the light of direct obedience. * r„S*''fK* •'•"K'^ter ? A daughter is a soul robed in the finer and more beautiful charms of nature to attract the admiration and at- tention of man in order to promote the com- bined growth of flesh and spirit and re- generation of life. Two souls thus formed represent the children of God. There is a promise of snstenanoe unknown in power, which no natural poet can sweetest rliyme ; sound and style is not the highest .eotiment, neither is sentiment of riv" '"food:*""'* """"•"« from the great Let thy peace be as the peace ofanirela. continual and abiding within the 3ost receptacles of the heart. f«1St!I"*°°"^°^*PP'*°" ""l"''' that which follows some high and worthy effort. Clouds and sunshine mingle before the ad- vanoe of prosperity. ^ Sweet thought to praise will lengthen Take up thy cross. Thyself I mean. And bear it for the Lord ; Think not of dross Excuse to screen Thyself from truth His word. Thy actions speak. If not thy tongue, That truth which >e well feel When truth we seek Thy head is hung To think not words of weal. Questions and Answere. Oialoerues of Thought. is a soul What is a mother ? A mother gifted with the love of God. What ia a father T A father is the neces- sary being who supplies the solid faod, and materials of com fort ; whilst a mother Who are my most popular authors ? God His fdithful followers, disciples and mini- sters. VVhat is conversion? Conversion is a oontinous and permanent change oralter- fr^m •.?'"^"'« ^ * ?."?'•"* transformation fc I rT lu * •''a*'" "'«• " from all fleshy lusts to the purity and development of the spiritual elements. v^^^^t 'u? ^'"' • '''he WWe is simply a book, the highest and most complete of all classic, having God as its author. His we'd M Its truth, perfection as iu inspiraUoL. His spirit as its power for sanotifioation and bounamg throughout with endless stow, of knowledge, wisJom, and instruction neoes- aary for a proper enlightenment .^ndinjt to a speedy development in the study of man- a^H hil!lfi?ll''° P"'P''.«*'y '" order to lift up and benefit the condition of fallen man and t^ guide him out of the path, of demorali,- people If sue! n into real growth My mother ii the iy father ia the liv- food and His spirit comfort. t is a being govern- obedience. ^ (daughter is a soul re beautiful charms admiration and at- > promote the com- and spirit and re- souls thus formed GoJ. isteuance onknown latural poet can not alirays in the id style is not the T is sentiment of ng from the great e peace of angels, nthin the inmost sqnalsthat which thy effort. igle before the ad- ■e will lengthen Answers. >r authors ? Ood, liptes aad mini- conversion is a change oralter- ) transformation life, as from all ind development ible is simply a complete of all athor. His woid iu inspiration, inctifioation and mdless stores of itruotion neces- nent .ending to study of man- order to lift up fallen man and I of demoralia- Poetry and Poema of Alfred Stafford. IS Short Proae Writinfirs. Here is yonth pictured before my uBtonish- ed gttze of admiration. He is indeed a noble emblem of hia species, invigorated and cheer- ed by the powers of almost perfect health, and the fenlings arising from the ripeness of a well knit development and nuperb phy- sioial condition, which ideed is a marvel of the skill, as well as the jeftrs of those ideal workman Brst employed in its con- struction. This is but the mould of life, and eooo shall be its returu unto the pit from which it was taken. If the soul there- in goelh not before the signs of industry, and transform effects to life and beauty, equal to the height and advantage given by such a noble stature. Blessed indeed is the spirit of God, day by day am I bent to realize the rapid growth of that useful and beautiful flower in the garden of my soul ; day by day am I inspir- ed by inspiration of its purity, virtue and exaliment. Oh ! what must be the joy to which this soon must lead, that light and glory which crowns the souls of righteous men entering foiever anew upon heavenly peifected paths. Oh ! how weak and un- worthy is this spark I now possess. Yet could I wish for more ? No ! Conceited abundance is not glory. One pure, yet tiny spaik shines with greater brightness than all this world's great lamp of life, which sheds afar her many rays of misty,imperfect light. Oh ! God confine my unruled heart within thy bounds of trust and faith, at once and forever, while I tread these darkened paths of time. Instruct me only in such wisdom which knoweth truth alone, for through thee do I observe that whenever error is conceived it leadeth me to hastily speak : Oh ! God tny wisdom is unknow. It echoes back great tidings unto man " know thysell"; it tf llolh of the powers of a noble mind, which bless and enlighten the highest development of thought, which knoweth not the excuses of non conformity, which establish not tho^e thi"«3 which exist ; but 10 corrupt the inwar ' .e of brotherhood, Feople.generations and nations yet to come, f such evil within this belfry of my soul exibt, I earnestly plead that ;hrnugh thy Almighty grace and influence their im- mediate fl ght and destruction may he ac- complished. What is this mind without the true inspiration of the spirit of God ? Could she contrive one single independent thought worthy of obaervatitn ? Could she weild pithin herself such gigantic and ultilieing powers of continued concentration? Could she be instrumeutal in opening up alone a higher and better religion than truth I Itself ? If so, where abides the great secret : of such important qualifications ? They can- not exist except they be born from death ! Itself. There is no home regard leas of beauty which external surroundingand flowers can produce, nor of the fruit imparted by the fertility of the richest soil ; happy, if the souls dwell- [ ing in their midst be not endowed with the : spirit of righteousness or unacquainted with the freedom of the wings uplifting the com- , bined body of heartfelt prayer, praise and I truth. Blessed indeed are the feathered j winais of righteousness which soar daily I near, ever directing our flight from a world of wickedness and temptations to light and rest forever upon gates opening the ideal I kingdom of a heavenly paradise. What is I gold compared to such magnificient scenes, I entering forth anew unto enternal clorv. 1 '•Praise ye the Lord." Great indeed are His works, but few are Bis rewards. Come let us be up and doing while yet it is day, for the night cometh when no man shall work. Let us gather our treasures for heaven, and by faith shall we know them, for death shall be trodden in the dust of our path. Whilst Jesus walks above. Lookingr Backward. In far different lands, we friends are divided ; Yet from our infancy such changes have glided. From scenes in the east to scenes in the west. Yet the home of our birth we recognise best J A change may be new, yet strange it may be, T'was old long before, but still new yet to thee. Back from the days, peaceful days that are flowp. Do we count recollections, but count not alone ? We see on our cheeks, wrapped over with years The sweetness of childhood, the value of tears. Which ran all for joy, true inan to embrace ; Has time ceaied then to trickle down this hardened face ? A mother so loving end a father sincere Bloom ever as rose buds in fond memory's ear ; From soils of the farm, the bosoms of men, 14 Poetry and Poema of Alfred Stafford. The charms of the homestead remind us again, Whioh span on our life, truer man to .em- braoe ; Has time ceased such to trickle down this hardened face. One thought for our school days, where areat values were sought ; Come, Oh ! tell me if since, have wo such values taught ; With hearts for companions truer than these. So faithful contented, and mindful to please ; Examples remind, such samples were true. Good are they and worthy ; I extend them to you. j Yes ! backward and forward, souls and mmds are stilt rocked ; Painted deep in time's mirror.the spirit each image is locked. They whisper .3 words, old ships have a mast. They bring back to the soul the life of the past ; From skill as a boy through iJraotise of satinns run ; They point out our sorrows, when our loved 1^° thoughtless, with each gem. a wife he ones had fled ; { knows, They picture in fancy, many dreams of the I ^ «'"*<' bigamist through life he coes dead ; I They tell in old aee the cost of our gold ' Worthless character is within his bosom Whendeathisanearing, and fears rise un. !with?i- ., ..... told ; * I With tempting pride the liar's wealth doth They journey along in mind and in soul ; „«.» • '"l^''^'"*/^ . Whilst death is as certain, as to ashes the wl \ '" ?u 1°' I"*'""' •** <""*'«« builds ; coal. ^tiAi careth he when such his aim fulfills. Delight is made, through show of style and fancy dress ; Thus ambition mistakes the man of external guess. Wherever we go, wherever we roam. We all think with an author.there'sno place like home. *^ A Verse on Spring. Spring is trickling in the waters, .Spring M whispering in the flood, Spring 18 painted on the landscape, f he spring is promised in the bud, Oer the meadow and the ploughed land. Where the wintery winds hath swept. „ W« oan see her fast appearing Where long the frosty snow had slept. ^ See yon bank across the roadside, see It now whittled with the breeze. See the rain descending on it, Yea see it dripping from the trees, txrrl'J'l^'* '■°*''"' 'l"^^'' h'« whistle, Whilst thronged the chirpingsparrowssing. t,very voice eeems tuned with welcome. *or welcome is the voice of fprng The Bigramist. Unreconciled shadows, oft drift up by the way ; *^ ' Half mingling our gladness, through our lif'j 8 little day ; Protrayed in the heart, the mind and the world. This banner of sadness rises unfurled ; Sometimes in sunshine, sometimes in show- ers. Thus souls become beautiful, beautiful nowers. Still, friends, we look backward, our minds are divided, Fi-om truth or from sin, where the spirit abided ; "^ From scenes in the east to scenes in the west. But the home of our birth we reeognizo His many suits are borrowed, still unpaid A rogue is he, where truth shines out Mr- trayed. *^ Woman with heart, for wealth by him is oft deceived ; With name disgraced, her life this devil deep bath grinved ; This a proverb, still lights love's path and Wfty, He first to love is not the love to stay. See thou, love is not found, where riches rule the man ! For such at heart how many, so speak, think and plan ; j. f^ a. Where ere is wealth, the souls must b« con- Poetry and Poema of Alfred Stafford. IS trolled. The traeit heart is not the heart of gold. Of lovers are there, many thla have I ob- served, From faithful to bigamistio view, there thoughts are curved ; No two alike, the pretty sweet hearts find ; Uitfused are they according to our minds. T ho following versa of different metre was written just below the former pieoe, and whether it waa aet apart for the laat verae I am not prepared to aay ; neuerthe- leaa it auita it admirably. \ But, woe shall crown all who discover, They wooed and wed a druken lover ; You take your choice, it matters not To other people what you got ; Keep pure thy soul and let it be, Tnus ever bound to make man free. Compoaed A verae on the late election, maralyfor amusement, ia : The Victory. Once 1 thought, through recollection, To write a pooin on the election, A good cne sure I would a wrote, If I could only poll a vote ; Too young I was to stand the strain, To poll a vote on either reign ; Without me was the nut well cracked. The best was broken was a fact, Hyslop won the field of glory, Mooney shines brave as a Tory, T'wai well for both such wis the case ; A Grit would faint in such his place. And honest occupation, with truth, many times excels a life of human applause with political corruption. This is an assurred fact. The Toper's Glory. Where shines the toper's glory, I ask to night with pain ? Inducted is His wretched hand On those who bear His name. Is it in each anxious look, Or in discouraged tears. Or written in the judgment book, Unknown to His ftars ? How shiues the toper's glory On all who sell him rum ? Who lures the man to wretched needs, And christens him, a bum ? [ Title now so deeply set, J Where manhood ought to bloom ; Whilst ! souls thus lost ignore renret. And march down to the tomb. Where shines the toper's glory ? I sooner know than see. I „.^*7 P«ople pray with me today. I His glory cease to be ! May it change from selfish strains. J* rom voice of doubly cry, To journey far in temperance brains. And bid saloons goodbye. The above is just as it 7vas composed, beine written hiirriedlv. It, therefore, lies at the critics mercy and must be taken for what it is worth, md for shame's sake I will not give the date when written. It will when people pause to read, otand much investigation, "'^ /?. *""?*' ^^^ hearts ot men in need Of such consideration. Thoughts of Melancholy. (Before and after conversion.) , Melancholy is this feeling I Which at times enshrouds my heart, I Sometimes lost, though seldom kneeline. j frompted by some earthly dart ; What this sorrow, what this comfort. I Inspired all alone to trod ; ; Viewing daily, hopeless, careless ; Describe this life, myself, my God. Claimed by health, then was I monarch ? oelf independent I surveyed ; Thankless was my pride's possession, For worthless I the moments weighed. Oh ! atfliotion blessed shadow. Which hear beneath the Heaven's fall, Clothing souls in better garments To worship, Christ is king of all. True, earth's tongue is vile to wander, Yet faithful must each promise be ; Wilful to acknowledge plunder. Carrying truths which none can see ; Melancholy is this feeling. Becoming me where'r I roam, Bringing thoughts to me while kneeling, i hat earth is not my treasured home. A verae of welcome, compoaed and writ- ten, but not submitted, March 22nd, 1898. We welcome you unto the church, our home, io-night ye aged parents of the past ; 10 Poetry and Poema of Alfred Stafford. I For here our love, true love waa lifted up, Yet for thy epirit take we love thee atill, We recogniie our duty unto thee, And li«p to thee the secret of aapire. A birth took we but not again of flath, For Ood proves unto us the spirit's sire. There is no distinction in life like this. Our soul's rank friend, as friend Ood loves us ull ; Sweet heuiest thou our mother song the church, Ai by hep hand our cradles here are rocked ; Peace be thy spirit, whilst ye wait for strength ; Be patient through wisdom, thy tongue be stayed, ENe go ye forth through gain to crown thy lipa ; Like Judas with a kiss, his Christ betrayed. Our social hearts to night extend to thee A hearty welcome, true unfeigned, sincere ; One of respect tuned full of gratitude, For labors done for which we hold esteem ; Rejoice, rejoice, for well ye may at heart Profitable, to souls both yours and ojirs ; This league of life, where hearts live on secure ; •Neath this parental roof whilst darkness lowers. Come now enjoy with us tonignt These moments for the blest ; They hold for all a calm delight, For such we make request. Time is harvest, time is treasure. Now reap a store from word and eong ; Seek and such shall be thy measure To make this soul in weakness, strong. The Walton Epworih League, dedicated for the "At Home" to our congregation, March 22nd, 1898. The following poem was compoa'd on the morning of March the 22nd, dedicated to Monday evening, March 2Jat Ent tied Bidding Them Our Last Good-bye." or Partinff for the Far Prairie. .Tu»t as spring was bout to open Out charming buds, in nature's green ; Through a kindly voice of welcome Did I behold this parting dream. When the night was past and over, The time for all to homeward turn. Speak farewell became our mission. Their heart and hand its pangs to learn • None beheld it light or air/. Every aoul did inward cry, . Parting for the far prairie, Lvery breast did heave its sigh. What a message time doth carry, Me in this present future lnok. In this kindly voice of welcome, Here reooided within this book ; How s'raoge it is in every phase, T'is our beat always seems to go. And leave behind the greenest herbs To taste every bitter woe, .. ^^^°^ •>«*• '■•le heart and bring at once MeiLinK »«*■• dropi to the eye ; Parting for the far prairie. To them I bid my last goodbye. Soon the oars shall stretch the distance, T wxt old Huron's well tempered dust ; Frienilu must part as life is precious, Too precious yet to waste or rust ; Hut last night as friends we gathered, ba<;h formed to quest to hold esteem ; Through a kindly voice of welcome, AuJ thus beheltl this parting dream ; ^ None beheld it light or airy, Every soul did inward cry; ^ Parting for the far prai'rie. Every breast dit' heave its sigh. Soon the bride must follow after, To own her home out in the west ; „ Cruel to say its j ijs and launhter, »« " surpass old Huron's jest I May this move lead on to fortune, As f>uushine follows after rains ; May that province, smooth and level, YMd health and comfort to their veins ; True my wish is not of envy. Riches possessed are never mine ; Si> I give as I reLcive them. Withholding gifts is losing time. Then farewell dear friends and neighbors. Until we meet, yes meet agtin ; Though ye hold a smile of courage, Yet deep within there's hidden pain ; Hidden sorrow, when at parting. Sad sensation within the breast ; Thrilling, weeping, ever smarting. When love is changed a mourning quest. None behold it light or airy. Every soul doth inward cry : Parting for the far prairie. Every breast must heave its sigh. Toothache. This ia not only a truth, but an exper isnced fact, witnessed by the Author. Of all illg that flesh is heir to. Deed toothache caps them all ; You'd think your jaw was shot clean through. Pottry and Po0m» of Alfnd Stafford. I? r1 bring »t onoe Ai you extract the bawl ; Both day and night we take degrees, To cure in vain a dauber ; We burn our guma and hold our j^wa, And oatoh the running slobber. To bed we go, with plastered cheek, Pressed upon the pillow, And groan in vain for what we seek. Rolling like a billow ; Often upright we sway and sit. As if to take it easy. A hollow tooth's an ugly tit. Fed well, but seldom greasy. Delirious, the soul who knows, By woe this face oppressed ; Some say we twist from head to toes, We devils know the rest ; No rest by day, no sleep by Light Doth crown my defenceless head ; No thought, no gold, eau'st give delight, With this aching nerve undead. Two days and nights I've raved in pain From these unwholesome ppsts. Oh ! fool I was to bear that chain, Neath such tormenting guests. A maa who never had it yet . May laugh just as he pleases ; But friends like me, will say, you bet. T'is king of all diseases. Sunshine and Trouble of Sprinff. The oats of the household Lacily bask in the sun ; Whilst fowb by the farm yard Feel the same habit done. The dog on the grass no longer keeps guard. O'er strangers who pass near his way ; The herds chew content, who eat round the stack, As seldom they pine for their stall ; The ewea on tne sod are leaving their track, As their lambs ma loudly their call. Bright sunshine of spring time, Lovingly gifts us with joys ; Such impulse through nature, Well become ns as boys. We play on the grass, no longer neath snow, So soon to be clothed rank and green ; Flowers in woodlands are blooming once more. In splendor they boast not of pride. This same worthy trait they on us implore To honor our master and guide. Ye trees bud in promise ; Handsomely shall yo be clml To impart, to each heart HIessed scenes to make glad. Filends now sfllicted shall tattte of the j )y. As never was written by pen ; With "ove we behold, the team in the ploi gh ^ A tun ing each furrow ko neat, Ye plouDvnan whose skill, I vain eau'st think .a>t • I\>' i not on our kree.. '"l'^/^"'"'f ^'/^'<^ S^^or,. Now a. in oih.r d.^,. loea,e th.>„ lMbi„ born ,••''"? ''»''". come.. '•••••• Ihe .pring ti^^ "-ell muy , he owner twi.f .„j ^- J He Author. , , That thou hath .L- """ "'••. '^'.".''•i* truth and ever Unsheltered thie n-t.H k ^«t.orroH..thornV:;:J''"*« ' Caa.,tb;,t°"r?.^U"i'li-J'tterao,itude. "7^:;::^ - ^-^ ^^'t^r^^ , T,^ie=-oth.r.tor;S' ^-keo, if powei and ioSor"'""'"'' ' '" «•■'" '«S?„S..r" ."« k-ewf . o-"w« uove. '° 'hat voice bo'tft;i**:° *"• Pr-ze. ' ^ More undereivJd^t :• ?l* «•"''«. At hi. meal he .tope/ f'",'"^ •^« ^ He loved with ol^J,"' "'"' ''''i"*. ''•great intent .oCan'^p'rS, gaze ; A Vewe Of Bevelation. JovitmK before we if^ , , hend ; '"• '^ """ing compre- '~.,,;•. *'" ''Ved to of.,t, Couct ,.. . .'^'owBT cat. W'*" built, tbevr*"""' '»«••" ^ Witho„i'-!;hJ-?„7«n cMtle, there , >"hiWo-;£r^-^^^^^^^^^ %;!!Sor''"«-p'^^^^^^^^^^ ««--ffiCtr;s5?;rr: — -f-v.c 01 11 , „ He marvela youth ."'i--" «"• •--oader.whitherta2n„--; I! II tt^ora. '' '09a. Fur a full ^ i/ •ver m.t Lifore ' 'Kbout.du,.h..,rtt„^ '•howamethjlov,, • •tranter, ' ■". gentle dove, ■'come to our he>p>k 'neek.nd«eu^tJe.' ' by kin.lljr eve. • Ped to lieten, ' ''nj voice ' •m i»nd feelina. her:, to rejoice. '°8 quiet grew '«er'« h.ra,le,; gaze • ' ''»'• «od pr»i,e. rsation greir future etrife, ' s peaceful view ce proteotiDtf lifl •aorifioe, * ' li bloody gain, *^ "n price, nortal pains. ^ deeply ear, •O. without a wnrA ove to hear. ''""'• I "w proofs absurd. i»jed to cfut ho«egratt..i)iro roway cat, w deaire ; ,n oaatlea there • ,":,'£" •"'-. Tied rhyme, utha to aee, oe of time. to go, iia to f>ee ; e such flow,' Potty and Potma of Alfred itajfford. If Aad tblnkt a ganiua I mutt be. lie itay out chort, ha mmi Jrptktt, A journey walka before hii iiiinil ; He thitnk* hi* huat with nil hin h<<«rt, For acting open, frituk Knd kiuci, iThen •pica the uhi!«rtiMight from hit heart a loving kita. Traofparent is his manly fvoe ; Huoh goodness, wislnn nevur shuns ; This, Uod'adesoipln, truths embiauo ; Like Clirist he loveth Utile ones. He turnelh me his smiling brow, Touching such as sood enchanted, With grateful lips, I scarce know how, Thanking me his favour granted ; Now with esteem long to aoide. We miss our frien-1 before our view. As o'er the threahold he doth glide To leave his peace behind, adieu. Rescued in Time. Thii was from an tvcnt of actual lift, beautifully frotraying tilt drunkard nmi the respotuibility which- is daily incurrtd upon saloon kteptrs. The clouds began to lower fast — The rain came sprinkling down, As we prepared to leave at last A little country town. The water skurried in the track*, With swiftness down each slope ; The horses feet beat swifter amaska, Along this muddy scope. Thus soon the town waa lost to view By faafc revolvina wheels ; Quick jolts and jerka waa nothing new. With Hying alush which peels. Beside a stream, which skirts the way, A traveller caught my eye. Whose wagon now beean to sway ; He on the verge to die. His coat waa wet, 'us body numb, No place for mau to be On such a night ; thus charged with rum, A state of shame to aee. Now perched above, below hia death. fin _..- . A I J>- -. And like hia brains, he lost th<> reigna, Yet groaned for help to save. The blood stilt trickled from his nose, And down along dU face ; A man he wm, a wreiuh lo W'>es, Hia manhood to diigrace. In shorter lime, than here I write, I sprang to give him aid And from that ditch (juick ,rned hisHight, My airurt was well paii. What ! he a neighbor 1 once knew. Who owned a home near me, Whose thimt foi liquor stronger grew, To spend it on the spree. N )W in the care of other hands, We leave him far behind. The moral this lewon et demands Should govern every mind. That is to leave the gla 9 alone, Bufore ye irset your detth ; Or awallow up both peM< « and home, To breathe a toper's br<^aih. Writings ft-om My Early Poems. Tht following embraces most of my earliest writings. From the time whici I determined to preserve each and every composition, which I commenced to put in / ratice in the latter months of the year i8g6, tnd the be- ginning of 1897. Vft I hud cof ''osed many poems at an earlier agt than this but being specially inclined towards a def. 'nt nature or disposition, I therefore lacked onfidence in preserving such as might now b of much value. Little did I then realize u uit those little rhythmical dialottges of thought signified. I remember well at the age of fifteen years of producing two or mo> credit- able selections, which J even now u uld re- gard with much esteem if again posses ,d. Once written thought my mind posaessed, To day, by aorrowa pang expressed. To-day is mine, why must I borrow And lose each comfort of to-morrow Again tht folloiuing utrat ia dadieatmd to *ha mamory of » loat poam, written ahcrtly after my mothar'a demth, Auguat, U-95, Entitled " My Parting of Motfiar," whith poatieal geniua. Tiiua the aforeaaid uerae touehea upon my bitter lament, which ! I III ; i I TeM*to"m'''i''.P'*"»'«. "ot by wrath "• L^^l*''"'V'"'" hast strr/ed Poetical Introduction. Within this little volume lies Tbato';anceir„rr„;"«or ^ wS^ "?* *'"'' "ny day. Andreadthese^houIhtSoa With word, which heal than tear ''""'"«'^J_;--thi.re7e' behind me. Dreaminsr of Christ. CiioRra. — Jesus blessed Jesus, Lorn* 'P'^J^ ''"™ o' 'o'^e 5 Lord of earth and heaven, y^t gentle as a dove. Who gives us grace to flee from sin And leave this snare behind » ' Who gives us strength to lead with Him The poor, the sick, the bHnd^ ' Now you be foilnH I- _ L«ngtheningofyou^dvs.S What! disobedience to law With penalties and trouble. For s,n at best is but a flaw ' Deceiving as the babble* Oat floating ou the tide of life Decoy,Dg8ailors from her- - ••-giu cirumuier. Chorus.— H«'^ must I love thee dearest LorH ™SJi'»/"" submission give When trusting in thy 4rd*? Chori-s._ '^AndThuTa^cI^Tr;"'''^^''"^- WelosethrXJh'e^EV,.,^,. Life ever to embrace. ^ " ' Chorus — This is a dre.am, how soon t'is o'er And so with life the best; ' On*PK ^ tf'^^ '"'•«'«' -nor;. On Christ's most gentle brewt. ^''^'torehouseofthe sou/is Heau,n. -STAFFORD. Scene by the Wayside, or Even- ing- Charms. ^'tasTlt'dtr '''''' *"•' '^•^ "ath ^' evSlUf.""^'' "'" •'^'"-P''-. the From^^yonnoisy village, across the retiring """'thrS^ '"''"• •""" ^-•^'' o' ioy ''"teii^:;f'"-^''*''»>le of children at rd. •ver chance to itray r..is to blind thee ^' rightful way, '^e this here behind me. — • . 'fir of Otrist. ' * P'eaaing dream est, uj Saviour re blest. Jesus, '• born of love ; and heaven, * a dove. o flee from sin, •e behind ? ''*»'«?d wth Him, the blind ? dearest Lord, urred ? on give, y word ? oubles cast, ' grace ? a death is past ; ion t'is o'er, best J more, le breast. aoul ia Heavtn. -STAFFORD. '■side, or Even rms. >d, the day hath le atmosphere, the across the retiring »re fruita of joy We of children at Poetry and Poems of Alfred Stafford. 21 I Too floats in harmony with the change and sway. [That now is gathering, and far and wide resounds. When daikness slowly threatens ; because night her fotehead frowns. Those squeaking sounds of insects, all day drifted into melody ( Bat at eventide their music is the sweeter by far to be The perfumed breeze takes up the echo as it gently sways To and fro those wonderous forks of nature in endless praicei i The bee, he too passeth swiftly onward with I his solemn striking hum, And in it seems a saying i Again to-morrow \ I will come^ { Faintly the bleating of the lamb travels from the distant pssture land. Uniting those little, but cheering voices, with the chorus already grand. Then of a sudden from the woodlands, out rings the robins note, Thrillingly swing his charms around me, as his raptures seem to float. tire it lingeringly dies, another lifts up- wards the fallen strais ; From flying on the Wings of ecstasy my soul cannot refrain. As turning then to listen, my vision is by glory blest i When the sun in gorgeous splendor is a sink- ing in the west. Holding outstretched such tempting grandeur, for man here to behold ; With his curtains touched with crimson and set in purplish gold. | Instead of bringing a dying message, it fully seems to leaven. One thought in mind's great centre, a sweet fortaste of Heaven. Silently as the shadows fall, the stars spring forth on high, iJntil unnumbered sparkling jewels richly unveils the glory of the skyi Can'st those mark the shining borders, where souls before have crossed ; Should I strive to pass this night, I ceitain^ ly would be lost. Unseen therein, that boundless space, when ' engulfed unknown to God within ; How could I pass those burning lights^ which quench each stain of sin ? It may be now hath come, that hour free trom care. To lift this voice above to (iod in gratitude and prayer. Ye evening, thou has m»ny charms, which never penetrate our sod ; Can it be that this should pass, our prayer- ful look to God ? j^ biding with him as we walk, all our safety doth depend t Whose ear beholds the simplest prayer above the knees that bend. Now in this glimmering light of day, our duty yet lies undone. Until we raise undying praise to the "Fath- er and the Son." Peculiarity. Outside the church, beneath the steeple, Abound in throngs peculiar people ; Kich Jorce their ways till troubles groan, Then each their modes of life disown. Yet when exposure turns her back. They follow on their former track ; Forsake they, reason as a guide, Thus with them strangers shall abide. • Earth is No Home. Innocence, doth not hold a plea Where no distrust is found, And guilt proves what it seems to be, Tilled on forbidden ground. Is their but one place of safety On earth so broad and wild. Where mortal head can rest in peace Without the soul defiled ? Pleasure is a nest of future burdens ; No ease, no comfort there ; Worldly greed the harbor of vexation. And doth our good impair. Ambition erects no shelter From storms, which reign this earth j Glorious warfare, proves but to welter In blood of lives of worth. Long, long, the years this earth I searched In wisdom's path to trod I Yea rose, but fell, whenever perched To find a crown with God. Mark My Path. Mark my path, yea mark it well ; Mark its fountain and its swell ; Mark it in and mark it out • Mark it as God marks His trout. That ye may know it as ye wend, And know that God waits at its end. foetty and Poema of Alfred Stafford. True Oouragre ^^ «W' *" *••"?'*"« '^'l ">«* be ^""^v" tr '""' ""•''"' ™»'^ be for- Little ^l^^ little eonquored. not m w. de- -' X'i re"*"' "'•"•'' "' "'" P«''~«o» w. EveHo.t in'thee. true .Ivation then we Bat from ^thi. .pirU. humble Mpirated Woura«edr.w.meclo.er.n«»r.rto '^ir In "'•'"•'•' '°»-«''*«- » -ore '''%o7rd"?.:i;°'' «**•-" produce. Unsatisfied. fihT'*' ''*y" •'«"«•*'> the tree Shaken, amid the forest din • fihr°r''°^""'"-ontheknee Th«'fc!?u''^ y*"" o' guilty .in ' ^^teth^-p;^^^^^^ tht oonoolation of peaot. ~A. tTAFFORD. An Early Reminder. ThV-'!f'!i*°u'''«u'^*'' *>"« and there "^'"ffifc'o*: "'■•••"--• With boots so biff The plough to turn the furrow. T„^^ 1 ? '■"'•• '^" ""Oh a man ^"''o'fl'k* an arrow; " But. Oh! how quick I found he too. Could magnify the narrow. I h^A '•f'" ' •'**•' ^>t»» boyfah pride 1 had a lovmg mother ; ' ^ ' Sure I may watch In vain to wait. Loves equal in another. For w"!'. ?Ly «»"«-t priS ?*• For well they taught Me truth to give A more blessed chance to rise. An^t^ ' ''u''^ *•'"•• •nemory bright ^To'£2rr^''-'.-bent*d. With courage bold When no debt I owe the bad ? Wi?h'i!="f- *'•*"■ f ^ • ^l^^s* by gone davs With my times of lona aco • ^ Stiange they yet five ' And often hath Charms to drift a guiding blow. ~ • A Word to the Meadow Lark. Sweet meadow krk. bird of cla. P'ping sweetly o'er the lee;*'*'' From morn till night I hear fch»t «. • In pure delight ; ft hiii^t^^^'^""' A loving ear, instils me A merry voice. God gave thee Here I pause to satisfy My minds desire, its supplv • Hunting the Coon. ^afford. rue, WM auoh a mu • an arrow ; > ! how quick he too^ ify the narrow. [ state, with boyUh pride. •« mother ; * * lay watch to wait, in another. «ve, DO life yet olinga my dearest prize ; they taaght I to give id chance to riae. their memory briafct. >r my heart, when aad. on ' gebold ' I owe the bad ; • Of lona; ago ; 'ey yet Uve hath t a guiding blow. PMtr\i and Poema of Alfnd Stafford. as the Iffeadow I,ark. •ark, bird of glee o'er the lee; night I hear that etrain. ; It bring! no pain. thou wingeit ; )hou singeat ; fm, but email thou art • freat ia thine heart. ' itila me Jod gave thee. di. both far and near, • of known cheer. t, ao gayly • eet thrioe daily, thee more and more, «mt I knew before. latiafy ita aupply ; nge to remark, ou a lark. ' the Coon. lu"/""* "^'^ Wte in aearoh of coon, n? hand. ' tly dog ia where ? I aee him there Between the withered row ; That piece of atuff, \i%» got a aaufif, Enough to make him go. I know hia tail waga on trail. Now ru8«Iing through the atocks ; I T'la gone, a bark drifta through the dark, Followed by angry tquawka. Thoae wails of woe, do louder grow, I know their c»u4e of yore, And quickly run to jiin the fun Of making wails no more. Soon do I iiad, I have to mind To strike not dog, but cooo ; With one hard stroke, hia head ia broke ; Whilst aileaceseth hia doom. I graap hie tail to homeward aail, O'er crackling grass, ao stiff. To make a brag o'er one corn bag Round which the dog doth sniff. With twine near by, his legs I tie, Tight beside each other ; Secure from fang, I leave him hang. With room for yet another. / do not hesUati to sny that the above ntntioned room became occupied that very j night.— The Author. ' Fear Not Death- Think ! Speak of thoae comforts at close I of time and ending day, when all our earth- llv toil is done. How beautiful is the I darkest summer's cloud, mixed in reflection ■of the evening sun ! Spriner Time Oreetinff. (April i8th, 1897.; Everywhere the tree i« blooming. In days of aunahine, nights of rain. Jaunty breeze, thou art perfuming, ! Whilst honey bees have busy gaina ; Hear the black-birda whirring flitter, Juat aettling in yon wood top near ; Hear the sparrows chirp and twitter, From far and wide swells out the morning cheer. I Blossoms waving, dew drops sparkling, I Upon the plain, within the del! • I Voices mingled notes of music,' j How pleasant ia thia spring time swell ! | Hear the lamb, its mother calling Timidly from the pasture land ; Now hear it rise, hear it falling ; Doth life and nature walk forth hand hand. Just a moment, must I listen, Musical ia the froggiea choir. Gould I tell what hear is miaaing, I would indeed be nature'e aire ; Music pleasing, duty binding. Must I today thy thought expel ? Unforgotten, ever finding, I cannot here bid thee a long farewell. • Lost Forever. (January igth, 1898.; Another day of life ia gone. Marked by the setting sun, I look, but have not strength to aay : T'waa lived and aomething done. Yea ! pltasure ia but a flower, Ita kindred friends to pleaae ; Alaa ! ita acent ia wafted off. And loat amid the breeze. in The Power of Faith. Oh God, aa I propel by faith And view in endleaa hour. My heart ia melud, Jesua reigna, I feel hia cleansing power. The Heaven'a open 'fore my face, In him I am made free, My death is loat in endless grace, Aa Lord I trust in Thee. Ye come to give me reat on earth, When toiling aa a child ; Ye give me life and promised birth In Heaven undefiled. Gome great Redeemer guide me on O'er patha, lest now I stray. All flesh ia weak. Thy love is drawn, Thy spirit must have way. As yet my taith ia weak, dear Lord ; Oh atrengthen broad and deep ! Such food was not upon the sward, When I a wandering sheep. But since I learned to trust thee Lord And not Thy name deapiae, I feel that I muat soon in thee To Heaven's regiona riae. Sweet are those thoughts withgladened rays, Which haunt our paths on Christmas days ; Sweet are those words of new born cheer, Which mark the birth of each new year. —A. STAFFORD. 11 u i! !i II " M ^^y xaome. Where must there da. ' . " dav,u more welcome greet- Than in that children's home ? ^*''«''' Questions Unanswered. i Drunkard, where rests th. f ., H.« thou tfcy , ^^7^,, 1' 80, why art thou here y My Warning. Is she hvinff, is she dead ^««hewair«7ofthtS'l"'''- Proved she false or proved ,J.« * ax7d*°'^"-«-r i3,Hior;ht'zrr;«r«^ J« H but a drunken gfo^^' Forsake not truth in days of youth ni°''' "'."?'• '^'" cure the rust Occasioned by thy greed ' Field of My Father's Farm. (A'ovcmber 8th, 1897, ' ^ So sTeek V?! r" '^'^ "*«t»". I.fLu "/^""estohide- Where thou do now Sbide ? Deception rules thee cunning And prudent in my view Away ye dart anew. * ^ Thw *•"* P^*"* '^''«'-« vanished Thy form amid this dale • Wh«T r, *''" y« -nust have sped What shakes yon reedy sail- "^ ' Above earth's tangled cover I snv r""' "'^ ^"d "d green I 8Dy thee pass among thf ffra« ^'om things so perfioissS'' X&''f";'P^'''"'»'^ord. Ketufn to duty now H6 Reads to Scorn. wMcr:rtS«th7S.a"rh^'''''p*«^' Then travel back Tn i? ' ')•""'<■ »» rage, afford, ly farm and cottage isty deed full paid » 'h, no hearts to comfort dear 18 for future laid y art thou here ? Poetry and Poema of Alfred Stafford. y Warning. ™'^'5'^ay8ofyouth, t the deed ; 't, will cure the rust, 3y thy greed. I Mink on the Back fy Father's Farm. 'ier 8t/i, 1S97. ' 9 well fed creature. 7 bones to hide ; 1 yonder grasses' do now abide ? w thee cunning t in my view, 8 working in thee, t anew. ?! where vanished [id this dale ; '8 ye must have sped yon reedy sail- *^ ' "Jg'ed cover, "vild and green, imong the grass, aperhouB seen. •eaks a word, ' now, '. then turn about, I moves the plow. ' to Scorn. 'Ppn that page, in s heart to race, ameful scorn * adorn, life's great tree lystery be ; fore the light, " the sight. Ode to Myself. (January 6th, 1898 J emote from cities do I live, Buch as I have I love to give ; Nor do I wish to ever grow Into a man, yet never know These very words I speak. '. quell the flow of language stream, That I may speak not in a dream ; ^rom those who through great cities strayed ["heir truths and evils have I weighed, To find iuch life a leak. fl am, as yet, a worthless youth ; {Where is greater wealth than truth ? jl am, as yet, unknown to fame ; [ Is she still buried in my name In coming time to rise ? My bed is pain, cruel words my ease ; \ Affliction visits me to tease My flesh away to hide in shame ; My soul is beauty, not my frame Which hides it, till he dies. The Necessity of Reform. Something lost will come amiss ; To sip thy health is sip thy wealth. Where is greater truth than this ? Where is lost amid our lands Greater truth than this commands ? Where is found from day to day Greater evils on our way ? Why not set thy mind to act Only on a better tact. JRtligion flcweth as a spring to nourish and supply Each valley where her waters sing, beneath the sun and sky. —STAFFORD. True Scholarship. A college is the most sublime Of all our earthly schools. Good students are those marks of time Which rank among her jewels ; That faithful zeal, that studious look, Haunts her enlightened door. To know that thoughts can crown no men Who were not men before. Up there they go, and theie they learn, True greatness is no pleasure ; To act the man, they all must epearn Their former youthful treasure ! Yea ! toil and study, hard and long To make the mind obey, And strengthen her in knowledge strong To force through life a way. Yet to the poor, whose means are sought. When health is yet his own ; Take proper books, with careful thought Instruct himself alone ; Good teachers cannot crown a dunce With knowledge, which they know. If he hath not himself a will To take his oar and row. True hope knows not discouragement. But action to be brave ; True faith must crown the scholar's mind. Else live a pending knave. As thistle down, must fly all chaff To leave the mind forever ; All weeds must first be rooted out To make the student clever. His passions he must master well, Lest he should backward roll. Thus hearken to his conscience knell, When they must need controll ; True scholarship is not a name. Nor yet conceited boasts. As sometimes shown instead of fame By earth's mistaken hosts. He must be true and diligent. Yes ! faithful every honr ; He must increase by steady zeal His intellectual power. For such as this divides tjbe man From Lords who love £0 feast. And more than this it lifts his plan Above such flesh as beast. Mere imitation knows him not, Such works must be unknown ; Instruction is but dearly bought When thought is not his own. True paths of study long begun By faithful student friends. Bring times reward to every one Through benificient ends. His ideal must be true and high By aid of mental spring ; It must be tempered 'yon the sky And forged with metal ring. His steady aim shall drive his sparks To light where'er they fall. Which after death round Heaven's throne Shall crown Christ Lord of all. Poetry and Posma of Alfred Stafford, A Boholar bright and genuine. Lives by a noble mind ; Wot Death hia knowledge stored within Concealed from all mankind * ae takes instruction in a phase 10 possess ideas fine j R^ pI^'.T''^ ^"'" "'«'"» way., By Christ's example shine. ^I'Tl* ^5""^ V"^ '^«'8''^ o^ thought. Not words of thought alone ; * His wisdom must by toil be wrought From solid thought like stone. Diplomas do not speak of fame Because they are obtained j Biu learning goes on as before, i'erleetion must be gained. T.ue scholars seek not to covet Language of other lands, ^'* ^.af^r.one is their design. ToTnrioirrKl' ''I"*' **'f 8"" '«"' •'"d". R?,^ • t- "P''"'"' "^ common life Remains his constant aim, , *ot gold IS not his treasure sought He loves the truth to gain. When asked why he doth labor thus He makes the calm reply : ' My duty is to save the lost And strengthen lest they die ; This 18 the work of scholarship,' Its highest aim and art. And great that work for all who have A scKolastio heart. Come to Jesus. True physician of the spirit Is in Jesus Christ alone, He the balm of all diseases. Comfort of all chills and breezes In this eartb of woe • Onm* "'f* '"""^ ''*'"• •'o him honor Gui^t and sins will he atone j ' ThJfT-^^ ^^"^ ^^^^ "P"" the cross 'tVhteTeeir;iJ"'s''^«*'''^"^^^^ Come in faith and he will heal thee pHeal thee whiter than the snow ! With^^-°r '?^ ^"^''^ ""^ broken wPo;rKeirr''--J»'^-.i Tha?'^?iT • """l?* *he truth shall find Ihat all possessed in heart and mind Might salvation know. ' Go in love and tell thv brother NoMn S?ifP°''*° *'"■ ^ho Lord ; iVot in flesh, unseen, though near it Holy be his name. T^!?"" ^° ^im, beloved mortal, Jesus waits just o'er the way; Trus in hfrf'^K ''? ^'" hear' thee, irustm him for he is near thee, iiver blessed Lord. Friend, he died on earth to wve thee Why must ye forsake him not? He 18 waiting, thou debating • He 18 truthful, thou art yoithful Doubting with disdain. ' There is danger in delay, Wa „n*" *'^' ." *hou believe him.- He w,il come, if thou receive him fcvery day the same. Come to Jesus- Come to Jesus ! Mark the danger from thy doubting Coml f*;^' '^'^tching, waitfnl o'er 'thee • Now without delay. The Little Minister. ^Thnlirv.'' '^*' 5''"hbv. plump „^ TTiT^h^t "«* '"'°'°«'' his fac; ,. ' "°''' °'?7hi8kers grew a redish hew Around his reverential chin with „,« A minister eloquent indied he wi ^'^' li'oquent sublime. ' He worshiped God,.ociable. good n.tured Love instilled his chime Waters flowed, yet failed to wash thn.- who feared to dive • *"°''® In^Ha^ony his word' it passed, yet few Praise Ye the Lord. (Written from •«'»in-i, v i. .. rem w.wo.j', Aovcmber zyth, '97.; Lift ye up the word of praise ^';J« «/«»tures of the earth?' iiaoh the name of Jesus raise Give to it 8 wider birth. ' Poatry and Poema of Alfred Stafford. a^ (U thy brother n with the Lord ; sen, though near it, but in spirit, Woved mortal, »'er the way • I he will hear thee, le is near thee, )rd. • earth to Pave thee, >r8ake him now ? u debating ; ihou art youthful, dain. irt, desr brother, delay, lou believe him,— lou receive him, ame. Dome to Jesus ! oppressed ; from thy doubting, loh ye are routine )ul. * the Saviour gives mt loving grace ; Dg, waiting o'er thee ; lant, Ginner come, will be done, »y Minister. \P'"™P ant^ round, his face ; ^dish hew b1 chin with grace, aeed he was, El. Joiable, good natured 9 chime, ho^knew him well. n his GJod ; is flowing well, ;rod ; iled to wash those ' it passed, yet few tie Lord. Vovembet 2jlh, '97,; rd of praise, he earth ; Tesus raise, rth. Sound it here and tell it t here, Into places not before ; Show an i siug it evm where, Tell it, tell it, more and more. To the weary, tiick and poor. To the sinner luBt and prone, Make his name, a name secure. In the circle of thy hume. Feel through him, no need of ahame, PraiRe him with a deeper gloss ; Piaise our blessed Haviout'a name, Great redeemer of t,he cro^s. Praise Him, praise Him ! time is fleet. Praise His name with sweet accord ; Praii-'e Him, all that you may meet, Heaven's king and Christ oui Lord. Results of Disobedience- Each trifling act of disobedience, Proves death to life.whichin thee lives ; No man can alight to his delight The bounds which mercy gives. Deception will many a heart yet grieve, So surface smiles will oft deceive, All those who each and all believe. -SI AFFORD. j¬her Sabbath Eve. Composed Sunday Evening, October ijth, '97. Sweet joys of Sabbath rise to |;reet me. Mingled with the evening air ; Not the sounds of home returning From the busy fields of care, But other sounds by far more pleasant Are softly fading in my ear 1 Ye news bud blithe and sacred, Another Sabbath eve is here. The pale moon holds deep her reverence. Turned with face above the cloud ; Meanwhile beneath the esrth is seen Still, in holy silence bowed ; Down by the wayside church are gathered Its friends, mindful of good to share I The peace, the peace, of Jesus, From this his blessed hour of prayer. Sonnet on Affliction. Through life and faith I know this truth, A til lotion is a noble gift from God ! Our hardened hearts to cleanse, to soften and to melt ; Though darkness is at first unfurled. Which seems to tear, which seems to rend. When God must come to claim a friend ; Pain I A fathei 's chastisement this his rod To quench our love this outward woild. ViBible earth, to spiritual, unseen, though felt This life light of eternal day to come ; In days of sickness have I dwelt, I know no greater weal. They mould and fashion soul and mind For better dajs to seal. A Morning of Winter. The farmer's sleigh o'er snow beat tracks. Are groaning as they slide. The jingling bell, the wood man's axe Ring out now far and wide. The morn hath come, the sun is high, No breeze to stir the hoar ; Ye splitting frost through action lost A picture seen once more. The evergreen, the naked branch. Yet claim their nightly sheen ; O'er sheltered nooks and crusted rills Behold yon rising steam ; Dull vibrating of frozen earth The distant sound conveys. For speaks a chanse, though not its range, Which time with truth delays. Oh ! blessed scene of winters tide. Is there no praise for thee ? Deserving of thy silver pride Which glitters on the tree. For miles and miles before my sight Ye ! thus the p'ain adorn. With crystals for the shining light. Which woke at break of morn. Those silver tongnes, there sparkling bright, Each rising echo drowns. Unseen below^ the depth of snow, Receptacles of aonnds ; No feathered creature have I seen. Except the one I see Which scrapes yon moss of faded green, The hardy chick a'dee. 38 Revelations of Nature Composed ,vhcn about to return from a ^'^oll ur a small wood-Propert/ of p . YouHg, August, 1897. ^ V f. - naihriHeution castin man • Well picture out the Rrowth of life In everj part and phase Beneath the stump and knoll Portrays to me the image of ' A weak, uncultured soul • Ve estate on which I have tread I Do^h^7.t«dahalln'erbem?ne: A likeness of our time. Ye water trickling steadily from IJoth at a glance to me convey All grovith which we instil- And such my spirit could rt veil More clearly than my pen Poetry and Poema of Alfred Stafford. Ihe strength of wind again ip told V\ hen roars those stubborn trees' As thrilling, creaking, louder /rows , "^^^'^ '""h delights to teas? ' ' "^V.l *?*'*'5 "' ^""oy "seds be great Ltke kindred of the coast 7 * ' To grow, indeed, i, but her fate, Of helps she hath a host. Trices Make Perfection. Pray ! be carefnl whar, you say A Musing of a Journey. (A sketch true to life, April, 1897.; On the Growth of Fancy. , The following lines were written on H,. ' manner as to convey tnto the channels of my \ «» tn this simple i>oem " n„ *i ^ Fancy." ^ ^" *''' ^^o^^h of AfH.T'iT'P'''°»'"dwoer ***"'* '■'y Affluted here, yet thy noble heart is blame. True^! from all these eartly trials through ^'^lk:i%rst^'""""'-'^''-"''>"for. Fancy alone but half perceives How night herself hath bowed Unless the thunder should re?eai The darkness of her shroud "^ ThretiTHnTi' '^ ?'-«>-« sheets. Brmgshertferrlir' ' The tempest's wind and rain. ""''"an J;"! k^^ ""«•''«'"' outstretched '"''Sir?b'o;^^'''^«^-P°''«.y- blessed Thy ^memory feeds me still. J hear thy "^t^^lJ:^'^ t-hed my simple ":nT„s7uf?ff;'"*^^«y«*«-agood Ye a^re but slow to Vak, Hove thee as my '"TL^hr^^^-^'^'ye-ndMhich ''""hirCgr^°"'''^''-*^™yword Poetry and Poema of Alfred Stafford. 29 rd. wind agHiQ if> told, lose stubborn trees iking, louder grows elights to tease. noy needs be great, f the coast ; is but her fate, >th a host. ke Perfection. JMS planted by oor wav lemindus ; ' lat; you say, oken in a very thought- )f invitation ity rod, aspiration 'ught to God. f a Journey. life, April, 1897.; a week ago to-day : welling, roofed beneath sly hand is there to tude, but not alone ; '. great indeed thv ■voe, •' noble heart is blame- sartly trials through e, neither is this for- lelfish outstretched ye spoke, yea blessed » still, J hear thy touched my simple ye yet live a good fi I love thee as my thy errand which bedient to my word Those 'Ummer hours long since have paused, but yet I see His kindly face, those falling blades, his scythe, that swath, As if they increased and shown but yester- day ; j Kitruest, simple, his manly way which met ' my gaze ; Who would dare his presence there despise ? rest he well deserved ; When e're he stopped to rest beneath some friendly shade. His friendly chut and those words he bade i me keep Again thrill through my living veins, their fruits again I reap. Sweet musings of yon now sighted cot, here unfold ! A form with aged step confronts me m I speak ; Not as it would, that faded sight, dimed by time. Deceives the goodness of a soul, I pass him I not, ' But grasp this withered hand given un- certain into mine, As his known voice demands this noble i stranger's name ! ! Responded, his earnest mind knew no better \ tact Than thank the love of God, so sho^\n with- in this stranger's act. 1 Again he blessed me, as he often blessed be- i fore A scene of joy, pndeless to drive a melting tear Down my youthful cheek, one n'er to be forgot, While yet I live, with hands to give and strength for ^ood ; An hour too soon passed swiftly by, while friends in gladness met ; Cruel time, ye as a sword, our forms and paths divide ; Eaah quivering lip will not this truth deny. Again clasped hand in hand we say, per- haps, our last good-bye. Not for all thy wealth and beauty Would I my life lay down ; But in freedom's name and duty. Such honor is renown ; Where is there higher privileges Than in her boundaries shown, For truth to prow and love to flow ? I feel them as my own Loyalty. Is true life not worth the living. Dear brothers here on earth ? Is true love not worth the giving ? Why seek ye lower worth ? Yes ! fair Canada I love tliee. Yea love thee heart and hand ; May 1 remain to ever be Loyal patriot to my land. Laziness holds no attraction. Rest is only found in action ; This alon* yields satisfaction. -STAFFORD. Lines composed upon the death of Miss Margaret Mowbray, as highly respected friend and school mate, who passed atuay November 2Sth, 1897. Another school mate past and gone, A friend of mine was she ; Ah ! quick she marked her early flight Without one word to me. Upon her parents, folks and friends, Deep sorrows sad were strewn. To lisp amid this costly rend Our lifes uncertain doom. Can she be dead ? Why came this news Which quenches words of strife ? This flower plucked amid us weeds And in the prime of life. Hath she but fled to meet in love A sister who hath flown Not long ago to seats above. Round Christ's celestial throne ? Together doth Christ behold them In light eternal grace ; N'er shall I tell with ink and pen The joy of that embrace. Rewarded may those spirits be In day of endless hour ; Yea live a life of prospered peace, With beautifying power. If we but live to serve their King, Who gives our spirits birth, iSoon in those regions we uhull slug Of freedom from this earth. A) t i!;f Musimra on Cheer. Parti. That leads above life', darkened rIow But he« not in each quaking h^/i' S° V' !J"""°'' ^° •«'« that gate, Such brothers seldom pour forth .ood Nor do th.y speak of gratitude * ' pi.r h^T/'u"' '^'' ''*^« ""r choice ! W f.^Pu*'"' *"' "• '""'• cheering S Wealth her. for hours of fretful ga n • They bring not cheer to come to ftav Togu.deandaidu.onourwaJ. ^' U.t.l wisdom brings her chastening rod For cheer alone is found in (^od. On some false imaae passing by Why must wo vieFd our lifla^d days To such which Jhath an end to die ?^ Whf„K ^.V ''"•" °" "-uth and right Th«„ K *l" *' '""" ^■•'^'» "« takes Kht Within life's bosom, there to burn. fioetry and fioems of Alfred Stafford, Musinsrs on Cheer. P«rt 2. taw easily see. Then cheer up for glory waiu thee Of fl- ^^" 'i**"'' •'''« other side • Of this dark and adverse chanaln.. Involved within earth's crimroTtfde. Love thy God, the same thy brother As ye journey on thy way f ""' May no greed be found in worshin All Gods, but God dessert and siTy. Live the true, the right, ti.e noble Ihough our friends on ^arth he few • ^^{ira;t^:Xtorw^«'^^-«' lo mar the glory of that crown. Straightway then, be up and doing- What IB pain and sorrow here * ' Compared to the hearts renetvina r Come let us feel such themes are« ear. We shall reap, a, mercy tells u. Times increase with good or ill '' Th« f ? " ^"'■'" hars our window. ' The temples threshold for the ligh^ ' JS!J:.'^« '""« P'-«°io" moments S"f,'h.s weakness, which we "rave : Live the present for the future ' How frail is man befor. the grive. Be discreet in every d./tv. Utility well restores ;'^' Habiu lost when carel.,., feeling Pound unguarded life', fatal doo«. i^^r^i^rSe^^t^^^^^^^^^ It may be perhaps fo morrow. Ihat .-upant seeks to find Set de^i»,tments filled by other. Born of a vain and wor til less kl'nd. Life and Death. Sunlight now is ending. Here told by dusk with creeping shade And people homeward wending! wfthMle''„7'""'°^<'8'-««tthee, With silent message on thy brow • A time of thought for me. ' At^n/5h^''*''"'^K'''t«''link ShSit.'K'"'"''' '"''•"' *o" " o'er one sits me down to think. This life holds but a smile • ^ r^/^fof^taote of HeaTen'.'bHs, And death is but a stile. ' of God. ""'""' '^"d the children -^S. STAFFORD. otd. » meroy telli m, '•ith good or ill j Ugema.krthy Uborg, ice 18 huihed and ■till. \n our talents, !> for truth or right ; • bars our windowi, •hold for the light. reoious momdntg, s«i which we crave i or the future, beforfl the grave. •y d-ity, res ; )»rel.;8s feeling, life's fatal doors. side that portal, 7 hide in gloam ; Is bright treasures »Ken room. fo- morrow, 8 to find ed by otheri, worthless kind. Id Death. ending, with creeping shade eward wending. to greet thee, ;e on thy brow ; It for me. Q to blink 1. when toil is o'er to think. t a smile ; f Heaven's bliss. a stile. ^»gel flying in spirit ■iJveH and the children «. S. STAFFORD. Pottry and Poema of Alfred Stafford. 81 Fruits of Glory (Octobtr, iUgj.J low autumn bringH to viniou'd gra^p. Hers the fruitH of glory ; Except when hid by iwttty light, Or morning fiDotH no hnitiy, then neiibtr bte, or hutzng wasp, Wing forth to turk their gain, kecause their foes were put to flight, Pursued by autumn ram. |ls yet the leaves adorn the tree. The country f<»r abroad loldi high Ihfl contiast now possessed Above this wiiheied moiI ; llthough the leaf niutit fallen be And birds de^ni rl their home, (ipe fruits this loss hath surely blessed, Fur such, we cau't atone. ■Why lift not thanks to earth's best friend, J For bleskingH given all ? (The poor receiver speaks mo^t high, The greatest proves most small ; [For fruits which cause the bough to bend, I And fields with taste run o'er, I Yea ! scene* so pleasing to the eye. Which I so well adore. No more upon the woodland knoll Shall flowers bloom in the shade ; I Not now shall eager children romp I To pluck those stems decayed. I Instead they run with uncontrol, I Told in their merry cry, I From place to place in childish pomp. Where hidden nuts now lie. Today the sun shines dim, but warm. O'er field and falljw sear ; The wind hath gone to leave behind This smoky atmosphere ; Flies in the air now dance and swarm. Where comes such grace and ease, When gassing up I quickly find The eye they love to tease. Within yon neighboiing vineyard And orchard on the hill, A sight of pleasure to behold. Vain desires crave their fill ; Within our hearts, an we reoard Dainties, which the seasons bring. With apples green and apples gold, And ruby autumn King. Speaking nothing of the garden, Where little children run, Amid the yellow pumpkins scattered, Bellies upward to the sun ; 8uch a view would never harden Chords of a thankful heart ; But cause thoughs of mercy tattered, Forever to depart. The corn rows, new lomewhat broken. Have dawned their golden tint ; I how riclily each are laden With ears of treasured mint. ThoHe melons are a token Of the flavor they possess. Which the pretty darky maiden Would never need to guess. Lines Dedicated to A. Younff, Musician. Fair musician, sweet charmer of the soul, Thy noblest gift so well once given thee. Proves not in vain. Great aspiration in such devotion lies Known not yet to all, but they who hear Thy tune on sacred days. Recompense is sought by thee, not all from men ; Lovers of the earth. Thy bosom holds a happy tbousht. Trust only God. * Whe:re is there pleasure outside joys of the Lord, Deeper in the soul ? Or where abounds a tuneful art With greater praise ? At seats of learning one wise writer said : That such was the language God's angels In other lands of bliss, beyond our own. Neath many pious walls a vacant seat we tind. From sources unknown ; Except those frequenters fled from instru- ments approach. Who but a bigot could turn, in haste desert One such holy pew 7 At time when music rose to lead The voice in song. Continuejuther, with thy sweet charm of Let man's poor nature prevail yet where It will ; Forsake us not. One note of muaie sways a charm with power And bids us observe our star! led cause. To be a water drop. I !ii ' ; „,. ,^' harmony ; ''■' Tlr "«''"•'- the .piHU Into on.lle,. )1„^, ^^on it hlth but (l a I J" ever guide the waj- "'""** wi:io tif '^^:,°V-"' -Pe-te Wing ' .tra> ""' **'•"-■'""»«<" P.th. of The fault of ,„an. J ^^y ««' all h,« rnsrcy len.k ; ''vor.hip not t»,y beauty, «"tl"ve men for their ,ou| «"|/0Mn,nn .elf control ';■« "Pirit its deaigner An.1 moulder of it, worth, rhou h „,„„ ^„^^ ^^ .^^ ^^ i" God mun give it birth. Danoin. aa . P,easu«.-u.rn| cni8 Lesson Well. Fonow±n'iX 'of''' *!rP^ «''»•'<'« Journev"! rf ' '"'"'"'"'' '*«n<'e. But loi!i°'„ thi. *'"" "" "l*-™ ! """"""'"••Il.oftkod.",.' Inmed ud so neaf f-^-, t.. , , , «o well hii pleaaurV aharr'"^ ^ '"•*• tford. rit of True Love. Uot thy worth, thone .hy /rientU, ' who ,„a,|,, ,„ ,„^jj| morcy lendM ; ip not thy beauty, "•"n 'or their ioul, '* '• "ot ia pMHJon, ill «f If oonfn,l " if« designer erofits Worth, """ """-t be ili fiuder, U't give it birth. a Pleasure. -Learn I Bsson Well. hut *Ieepy glance 3f restless dance, miiaic sweet, it^stio feet (loom to early morn, ve, each soul is shoro. as moments fly, e '« passion's cry :o greet the dawn • wise guests have gone ' »'e«Py glance. * ' of the dance. leath to greet St beneath their feet, Bt in hidden gloom, nin the tomb ; J step the floor '' id something more. with stiffer minds ; and hearts for beer • jption wink, ' jealous think. as music rose ;nee, to climb up there, for me ; ' easant smile w. head to feet, hare. Po9try and fotmt of Alfnd Stafford. Departed- LintM on tht dtalh of Mr. John Forb*t, vrilttn tht day following his sad dtparlurt. is Mul took flight with morning's light, Baoh clad in mantle grey ; )ld aK« hath worn away onoe more A spark of life's array. io more shall earth deny that soul A sheltered path to trod, )ut fat above, where all is lore, It sped to meet its Ood. [Softly, gently the stins of death Crept o'er his aged brow, I Diitarbing not that feebled frame A slave to pain, but now ; I It is made free, as loved one's see As parts that ending breath ; I Deep in sorrow, thev each behold Those eyes now closed in death. Return fond change to visioni range That noble life onoe led ; 'lis bat this frame of spirit's fame, Which nambera with the dead. Rejoioe good wife in morning life. Have God alone to fear ; For thee, onoe more, John goes before, Thy good old pioneer. Can'at ye but gaze on brighter rays When Ood must join two, one As on a reel, my statement feel, This tread now almost run ; Bride go prepare for him up there Thy soul with brighter robes, That ye may hear with purer oar Sounds not of fleshy lobes. Come now, arise for Paradise Right true to him were ye ; When branches swung you both well 3lung Through storms on life's great tree ; Fear's are shedding for a wedding, In Heaven mnst it be, With Christ thy King, shall angels sing Eternal march for the. Unsucoessftil- Once conveyed to me by murmurs Of the breeze which rolled the deep One, a blessed dream of fancy Which revives my eyes from sleep. At the foot of life's great mountain Stands an engine with her train. Every oar is heavy freighted, Not one foot her strength can gain. While the track was smooth and level, Mile by mile, it swept its way ; But now hath risen this loftv bevel Holding gloom and dark dismay. Great is her fate, cruel poverty Caused by lack of fuel and steam, Which hath faoe to face now met her, As the driver soon must deem. Copiid from a slip vtkich unfortunattly eonlaintd only a part. Thi rtmaindtr «»< rtcov$rtd. My Mother. Oh ! my mother, blessed mother. What a history thou bnngest to me, As I look back to my childhood, What a debt I owe to thee ; But thy faoe though long departed Still with memory it doth shine. With its smiles and words of mildness Float back through the stage of time ; As a child, I well remember From obedience I did stroll, Or in mischief kept a walkina, Kept adding sorrow to thy soul. But dear noble patient mother, Who hast thy trials so aobly borne, It was thy skillful hand which lead me, Which I shall never see no more ; By the cold hand of death Yon left this world of ours, For a happy and distant land Blessed with sunshine and with flowers ; I cannot count those toils and cares, Or even realise their worth, For they that were are past and gone To have no recompense on earth. Love Poem. Love hath its charms, that n'er decay, Which may at times all slide away To make return with brighter ray. Such, is its wiidom in our day. Make hare this life without its sway. Can we one part of life well slay ; Our every action yields dismay. Why then should we cause loves delay t For when we do we build of olay, A native like the mole or quay. That seldom in li^ht comes to stay ; How true ia this and this I say T 34 Thtn '^"'^ '," ''"'*« true own way Marked deep on life, both grand and gay. ^f„^!fV^ Wends to make array Dr?wS'^;«cr? e-a t''i -^'"-^ ''^y' Wat» n.r / f "r °''»viour aye, W»ke up. j,.,n hand., help him. hurrah J | Poetry and Poems of Alfred Stafford. Morninsr Poem. °""h.^;j:'f"»-' »i--i. b.d.„,. c^u'^*! 1°."''" ''^•'•'"l a horse W^i "^J""'.^ "P"'*" the air. While others bet their ready 'cash. ThtS^f church they could not spare, I Tn ^« f? '^'"P^ *•'« treasures of their race I reason on its end, ■ i Would thfly cause such disg. ace ? I will not say all thing, I know, There better far unsaid. I m wise enough to hold then, back How bitter if once fed. ' Men never seem to love the truth ^Vhenspokento the point th:;'riJ;,„a TheS-^lrof';:r'"'^''' '""^'ndtr^'""^'-'^''.*»'e-adow Alf^te^KT'-ing I Whilst the faithful are weaving ♦u- •hine to keej'"* '^la sun- Blithe morning, grey morning, go swif. speed on thy way. *' * "'"t W..t notion the ,a./whJ now love not the Worthles^^e^^an who thus covet, to Colt T '"' *t ^'''*" *^ '*' ^^"-fc-- Co/,.rf from a s!tfi cf my writing,. The SwaUow Queen. (Hiay, 1897. ^r«^^««'««'' a form so clever In dress of rich and gaudy sheen None performs a swift UeLor ' Like ye-^ur little swallow queen. Oh ! God of mercy from the skies Look down on man below Tol^fS^'l?"' P*"^ •"'••"'g desire To make him upright «row He S:i°''".'?r"'Weh*erefn7tWe. no .^-^^co a McKlea ear. and nnf ♦"!,- ' truth of life "' "•• "P*" To mioiple every c«re. Grace to thee art surely given. Replaced iXi'dTy?w:e^5'e^?,"ht. LikethUia„7th7ota°""''" ' My envy change, to a dream. ^\iTl ">« "''«« and hollow, f hy endless curves now everywhere. At the brooklefa muddy border For thy marvelous mud built nest. ^BehinTtr'^^yly^'^'tter Chides up before hi. vofcedt:jVoof Ye think not that he is fiSL B-tMngit forth while shi^,;w,f.„ iz-rf. Poetry and Poema of Alfred Stafford. 96 ide behind a horse ly splits the air, befc their ready cash. » they could not spare, he treasures of their race as they . if they wouldl its end, ausesucb disgrace ? all thingi I know, I" far unsaid, iced reproof. iddinar. 3al!,*' ibbinff, I ahadowa fall. I An early, early bird thou art. For thus ye rise to greet the dawn ; |Pure food and health renews thy heart Before the morn is past and gone. I Sweet bird of culture, bird of praise. Now flying were we wicked dwell ; [Thy merry joys, thy fruitful days, I wi^h in vain that I could tell. I Surely thou do come to bless me With this our spring time, o'er and o'er, I Harmless creatur^ , I possess thee Within my bosom more and more. I Oft in times of doubt and trouble— Ye cast thy sunshine in between. Making them light as a bubble ; Still do I crown the swallow queen. Lines composed and written on Christmas morn, December 25th, 1897. Exactly as \ jotted down when composed. Christmas morn ! Christmas morn ! peals of merry laughter bringing ; Chrintmas morn ! Christmas morn ! sweetly everywhere is ringing, O'er and o'er each snow tipped border, sounded by a mighty hand Is this blessed news of Christmas, through- out our good and peaceful land. Christ is all ! Christ is all ! keep each to-day His sacred came ; Christ is all ! Christ is all ! have faith instead of untried shame, Keep a purer ensign waving, quite un- molested by our earth ; Send thy gifts and tidings homeward, give new extension to his birth. Bethlehem star I Bethlehem star 1 yet lights a path unto our King ; Bethlehem star ! Bethlehem star I shines bright in glory while we sing. Sing of Jesus, sing His praises, sing a pray- to all mankind. Tuned in voice of fullest talent, to cheer the sick, to lead the blind. Jesus born ! Jesus born I born to redeeem our lost and prone ; Jesus born ! Jesus born ! yea born for fTAAVAfi'a hanmr f.KrnnA • -— — — •rr'j .,tsi— iiw , May he be born in hearts today with great- er Eeal than ages past ; May his fragments lost be gathered up to receive him now, as last. Oh ! happy thought, happy thought, should to-ilay embalm each heart ; Chriftmcks thought ! Christmas thought ! must seal all essence they impart. He who wears the ohristain armor must don his polished coat of steel, Tu compare his mail with being, and search if their be inward weal. Jesuii Lord ! Jesus Lord ! still lives to-day a chiM, a kind ; Jesus Lord ! Jesus Lord ! great fountain at our gosptl spring ; Miy our hearts live not in festal, nor wor- ship her a Christmas God, B it in motives higher, upward, to cheer us as we onw»rd plod. Christmas day ! Christmas day ! reveal ye charmt I never knew ; Chiisimasday ! Chris.mas day! I goon to thee must bid adieu ; Ye will not wait for man to brood o'er better things which might here dwell. Thy thoughts, thy ways, thy merry days were I a poet I could tell. ! thy time is short ! may all alike thy; Happy day ! happv day I must declare ; Happy day ! happy day comforts share ; But e're ye pass, I here suggest this one great thought I must implore : Keep join in one, our days aa this, until we meet to part no more. The Spirit of Reform. This spirit prisoned in the heart Sweeps down the dust of care. And every image, dark and false Abides no longer there. No themes delay to make reform, The present is in view ; As wisdom says begin at once Thy great eternal new. Where are the heart's intended deeda Ye promise by delay, Aa tnist they bar declining sight, With falsehood on thy way. Have courage brother seek control, Repentant without fraud, And make a full surrender now Unto the living Ood. Have faith in Jeaua Christ alone, Confesa in full thy sin. Both pray and trust Hia blessed name. Great triumphs shall ye win. M Poetry and Poema of Alfnd Stafford. Written contemplations of thought while Pass,ng through a burial ground, April, GatheriDg of this dusky gloom watti to me a ahiveriDg dread. wTnlr V^ th"" ghoatly tomba Mingled oVr friends now fled. Whin^'^'^ir*''.""*"'™ o'««- the dead. ^iltT' *t*"'«'" " »•' «»°h "tone' ' Erected o'er bnt ornmbling bone. ^ nfc!'f' "J ?°i'°" •""">* my mind Ah "u""""C"' devils in my thonX Mviff ^ °^'^°*•^ «uch trashes find. Tol/«« ♦£ "y* '.'**• '^*'' »" but bought . Bnt f„?«*'"'y '"«"?'' *'"' then I fought But into memory they have got ; ' Like him whose hair lifts ffom its root I am a dog, poor frighted brute ' Foul novel spell of early youth vit°1mlLT^'^ ^'*'' ""'"^y greed ; vast imitation is not truth. Oh ! faith attune in truth to roll 4=irirf-«„r-'^' ^"^M-rwu^ts Which brings a close to lifj Rath. My future years are not for me PerhaM iB^^"*"* "^ «'"' '''t^ cheer ; mt^ i" """ "•" monra to see When but my bones do orumhi?i. And read that epitaph of &.'" '"'" Myolay.hanVe«";i5;^rrt'4ad. Jf^' proper channel of aeguisitivenss in life « ihnt of —„••.. ^VtofCM, * --4. STAFFORD. A Prayer for Aid and Protection Composed and directed by me, when abouA to fall ,nto the hands of passion, April 189S, """"tlar'"" '"«««'-»'. now '"""requttT"''""'' '"^ '"" *°"«"'» Vile indwd its harmony, if thy rule be ^""'bist' '*"*''**''• '''""' •^" «' °»* thef No viler seed is borne from man I °andr* ^° '"'«''* -cattero'er a 'll.''ifi'T5P?"?°°°'''»own, ' Thoug^vej gift,, but train them now to n^JZ «?■^*''» pawions of a poet's heart • If there be mercy bid them now depart. %~!f^'5""" '.''°" ''"t t*ke account - Great judge o'er Israel in dark awa {.^t xea from each known sin to ever fast. Hence forth I while yet I here abide • """ of m:n!'""'*'"''''*"°''«»^»'>« heart's While^slght „ blind to no^'Khold thy ^a'Sj]!?? '^ \ ^^l' ^ '» • '"ture live • Afflict^ 1, but mercy I muit 'yet «„. Oh!hjrd^the«.thorn.„pon the righteous """UughtT '"^ «"•' ""•' «'»'"* R^emption by promise to everlaatlna Ilk Kindle this breanh «« ss«a«- nr = • j \rd. Poetry and Poema of Alfred Stafford. 37 Aid and Protection, i 'recUd by me, when about] ds of Passion, April i8g8. from the Heaven's now ption from this tongueaj irmony, if thy rule be !e, when born of not thej le from man n might scatter o'er a I of bis own, makes will, his strong ut train them now to lions of a pool's heart • epts formed in some lid them now depart. lost take accoant ' rael in dark ages |.^t, wiedge to restrain >n sin to ever fast. et I here abide ; ble flourish of my pen, nd be thus exemplary )ition, now the heart's vil I may do id to now behold thy a future live ; >rcy I must yet em- upon the righteous great that comfort to everlasting life » »», 'tis w&dom'e ^B SO rain desire * Pon the new born to the inward mind, uk snares of wrong. Lines composed while spending New Year's with the Germans, January, 1898. Mingled straiiKeness where lies thy power, Barn with bewilderment alone. Lost in the progress of each hour Thy nnaeen hand of stone. Converted by the spirit's heat. Conveyed into a milder clime, Ye image, which I must defeat Reflected hand of mine. lo language unspoken to me. With earnest, unaffected grace, Grouped before the fires ruddy glow, This hand I well can trace. How hospitable this their hearth. Where meet we kindness so disposed ; Their tideness is also felt By taste of food disclosed. Though short my stay, have I observed Great thriftiness from place to place ; Two things I give them credit for Frugality and grace. My Late Return. Composed while returning from a call late on a winter's night. My where-abouts I am prudent to with-hold, the Author. The moon, a moment seems to pause While peeping through her hazy gauze ; She seems like me, void of the right To frame the beauty of the night. No thoughtful aim oan'st in me rise To paint in time those azure skies, Or touch yon ring of rainbow hue A perfect circle full and true. Mark yonder wood which tips the hill. Dark to the mildest winter chill; Distinct above the crystal snow, Which zephyrs fail to raise or blow. Some owl now reigns this solitude. To break the stillness by his mood. Which echoes, who ; whoo, whoo, whoo— whoooo ; Thus asks me quaintly. Who are you 7 As watch dogs from adjoining farms Wail foith their tongue with sharp alarms ; Responding voices of delight From feathered pups which wing the night. (Feathered pups alude to a barking bird of the owl species. Now very rare in our woods.) Unheeding lateness of the hour But mindful in his shady bower ; The coon is mocked and often heard By voice well unsucked by a bird. Yet other life is still abound ; From far and near I hear the sound Of distant trains though miles away, And jingling bell before the sleigh. Pet haps some man can bcarce discern Through paths of night, to make return Unto his home of siukiog mire, To spue his filth before the fire. Perhaps some lover from his mid-night stay Goes driving homeward in his sleigh. His love he thought not to adjourn Till trampling on the hours of morn. Perhaps some traveller delayed. Or him from sickness is conveyed. Who spares not self, to gain renown When comes the doctor from the town. Darkened stillness holds false alarm From distant sound, that means no harm ; So distant is each sound and clear, The rabbits start from peace to fear. Their lower instinct guides their view Whi3h aids departure ffom the true ; They have no moral to Aid their plan, The same I say is true of man. Unknown value and moral worth May from such scenes as these take birth ; Deserting all, I homeward plod. Here leaving such with nature's God. Uncertainty. I A child of vigor, unsurpassed. May with her comrades play ; A child endowed with beams of life Is frail to melt away, II A boy may have no truthful glimpse Of future hurt, or sorrow ; Yet hours of pain and sudden death May come before to-morrow. Ill A youth may independent be From taking good advice ; But woe betide that stream of pride Which changes joy to ice. 88 Poetry and Poems of Alfred Stafford. IV A man may on his journey go Yet .n f^'* ''1''^ wrtblyitreaaureB. i-ach day of selfiah pleasures. V ^T^^K*-.",'" '•'" "^« ^<"" man To build on crumbling sand. When storms of heat ehfll 'gainst it beat Will such erection stand ? * VI Good wheat may grow on such a soil B„Mf'-^ f ""'era fall to cheer; * Thl? w"?' the sun should burn Those blades scorch brown and sear. VII ^Th«^"f''n'"*y.''^"«'"» "o the vine, tJ {u u?^*** ^y jack frost : Thus with h.m hope doth of elope To leave all prospects lost. VIII Ve might have led a noble life Thou begger on thy way , BarwK-?"?''1t° leave'alone ■Bad whisky m thy day, IX My man yon might be free todav Slave to tobacco went, ^' Arlru r ^^\\ h««»°8e in debt, i^or that in folly spent. X XI Smll troubles on our daily nath. ItZ^^^ '"'^*'' '"« ™ount^h?gh. Jhe brightness of the sky. XIV XII Words from ohilhood mioht h« p,.„u lfS'li''"T."^''»thTn?hem '"'°''''' If babes could hear more truth'to cheer Now spoke by reckless men. ' XlII ^ 'ifZi''*" ''°"'*' ""»" weddinas be If sexes grew not cold. ^ "^ «y single meet and self conceit. And grow from young to old. Ani f Vu t^*"' "P«nes8 met. And to the heart more joys impart. Less followed by regret XV Some wife would have her husband yet It V'u'^'J*^ * crippled back. ^ If she had missed the man who hissed At her and her boot- jack. XVI ^ rJ^'"'^7u"''^ ""^ •^°'"« •" the sasb »,."*4 not that missile flew. -The kids would not to hideing got Ifsafety wasin view. XVII ^ ThelaTi^ ° k' '"'"* "P"^ *he milk, fi„„K ■ ^^ hers no doubt. Such pains of fray would go their wav If maw would chuck her out. ^ XVIII ^"TII^J^^ "^"^^"^ have been to-day tL^^'?'* '''^ ^''««t red head The girl he wo'ed, then cussed. XIX ^ Pr„^°^ '^•?"'^ ""t °^ heen so sick IfhfT/?"fheeatinbed, If he but took the physic b(;ok, Ihen acted what he read. XX "To&rrfs-r? ""'- XXI A youth once sought to take a «irl R«I " ''? "'"«'* his heart was galled Because she wasn't there. * ' XXtl ^ Alfhn° 1*11°'' ""* *° "''e to town. Although the mare was hitched Voth f"^ ''•"""'• «he wheeled kround Both gentlemen were ditched. """'*'• XXTII Uncertainty may meet ui. all. j,„?°fj"'':'« Jokes to break; ^Acriavu^r*'-*-' Poetry and Poema of Alfred Stafford. XIV Duld come to pma ness met, )re joys impart, ■egret, XV 'e her husband yet I back, ' ! man who hissed tjaok. ;vi ome in the cash !e flew. > hideing got w. ni e spilt the milk, 10 doubt, lid go their way her out. 11 lave been to waste this little while T I ask no more for fear a vain Ambition should creep in, Atid mould my now well polished brass. Destroying all with sic<. An Epitaph- Here lies the body of a soul Which lived a noble life, Who learned at chaff,— the people smile At truth the voice oft strife. He learned to live, he learned to die. Thus underneath his bones now lie ; Here buried deep in peace to learn The way to mother dust return. Chanfired- No more are bayonets gleaming O'er mountain, plain and hill ; No more is life blood stieaming Down warfares bloody rill. No more the moon beholds them At quiet dead of night ; May ail such scenes of carnage Vanish from Heaven's sight. No more do sounds of battle Disturb our peaceful land. Instead we hear sweet music By Gk>d's own chosen band. - They stoop not I but to conquer The darkest depth of sin Among his poor lost soidiers, And life impure by gin. May Heaven guide them onward ; The saved ones, them reward. Glory be their victory. Victory for the Lord. — •- My Vision. 'Twixt the banks of a river no fame can abide, Like that which lies covered still untold bv the tide ; To ye simple mankind this a riddle may seem ; But the same passes unspoken in life's little dream. Thus the more it becomes solved, the wider our views, Until all is forgotten when death brings us news. Then we gaze back behind us to learn of the past ! Finding many dark foot prints to conquer at last : We see many mistakes, we see labor in haste. When God's known perfection make vacant the waste. In the form of an image cherished idols now stand, And wait but to be broken by God's mighty hand. Trifling acts to companions rise up like a star On their journey for Heaven, in mercy their car ! Deeds of love in the centre directing her flight. At the front are her drivers, faith, hope, truth and right ; Soon this earth is forgotten when rises her song : Thus forever und ever the souls float along ! "Weddinff Bells. Wedding bells are gayly ringing In yon village across the way. Heart and hand shall be united In fellowship for life to-day. Autumn's tide drifts invitations To join within that feastal glee ; Although her chimes are drifting merrily, True hath she chimed none out to me. 40 ^t* 'P. peace do I enjoy it, Wrani^^ i T'""' ^^^ ^"S^^ and fair - More lovely than when witnesaed th;re. T ,f» r K. "".y ^*°®' y« cheerful bride • »een by the lover at thy side, Evyvhece is peaje and comfort In union with both love and cheer • Harmome,ng autumn weather. ' Ihw blessed season of the year. liach inspired with good to tell • Unto that grand old marriage bell. Not a cloud is in the future. Fore ?ol5?„''Jr'"' *'''P^"« '^^^ ^ear ; AhnrnJ ^u^ S"^'"'' "o^ honoured ■ A home well stored with life and cheer Poetry and Poema of Alfred Stafford. Stni wedding bello are gayly ringini, " my fervent humble prayer Po2'l7:{°'V^'"* '"^'«''' -- com. iJa r -^ ofnttxtng mortar for build ing Purposes at the time of if, / ! neither « ,V ;.. •' * formation ; tZ L """y *"''»'''^ '^ fictitious tale ^peak for itself ^ ' ^°'*'* «"^^ . —Th e Author, Pictures by Nature. As in proud cold depth of winter N„» ? ^""'"•ch crash below. Z&^! "•'*''' »»">« d"ft ng heaps Amid the winter's blow. ^ In this time she stood unguarded Careless what she migh^t do, ' While thus reaching he? ambition _ Ihe only end in view. "'""'»— in time— the present noes • Imprudent to lif'e'sfoundatTois I Imperfect thus she rose ' ^"wl? t*^ by dreams of a future Th^ *km"* *««»"« breeze; Thoughtless of storms yet auear-nr, Thus weak she fell b> these "' S,ff '?"' *'••' y«t unsevered But trust no more the earth • Forth?"""" 'i^* y-l^ t° blossoi;! I *orth a grand noble birth. The Riverside Poem. (^''0'^ the memory of a Past Poem) ;;K%Tt"oVeT^-^. 't^reHKs'J^Sef"" iTor love hath cleared awav at l«f A winter's icy vein. ^ ""^ Labor seems but heartfelt grandeur T^.r «'''**^'' '''»° before^ '"^""• Or foil KsT* "**'''• ""Wtion, vr laij to rise no more. Ti.« ^, "-y .''ease, yet centre oiif, I The place he dived so well ' How strange I'm lost in nature'. «k Which make^J^J^^ilVSe. I ^ ^VhJ^" T."** worshiping I An^T u ^ "^^^^ me in thev And teach me how to live. rd. epth of winter wh below, hose drifting he^a 8 blow, od unguarded, i might do, K her ambition,— M her it to the ground, fe murmuring onnd. ''a failings 'It goes : oundationa, ' rose. of a future, freeze ; » yet auearin^, by these. unsevered, he earth ; to blossom • birth. lide Poem. of a past poem.) >r bank, "parkle down a. ebbled shore proke, '»uld think broke. '«Jy place ■eam, his nest, o scream. re his form, swell, >ntre out. well. •ature's charms y soul ; »y veins, !em whole. ing ■s give ; a they,' I'e. Poetry and Poems of Alfred Stafford. 41 leet praised fl-iats up through the air JAiiiid the inurmuriug trees, Irricil sottly within its cnurae fj'hf ttentle scented breeze. The Effected Lover. be f,'rass blades now begin to rise lj\s liew drops cease to weij^h ; liua freed from hiirdrns they proclaim IThe liKht, the light of day.* he songs of morn are being sung lAlng this charniir^' shore, t lones with far more richness strung I Than ever heard before. .ath yon mossy out reaching bank jTlie sunbeams dance and grow, liHrtiefl by pebbles as they sank I lu waters far below. Iiere busy crabs delight to bathe, ' Or hide beneath the mud stained stone, la solitude each reign supreme ; Wiiilst nature wills a home. Idr round abo^t by faUh I fee • Scenes of marvelous power ; i'ct lo.st when passions rule from me The knowledge of each hour. I'onderful are God's mighty works, When we such judgment give, From them we cannot fail to learn, Those paths by which we live. ■Fair river side with gems of life I A lesson ye have taught : iThttt happiness here given me Is neither sold nor bought. [Tis but a gift to every heart Which seek'th to be wice, I By asking natuie of her store. Then hearing her repliec If with me you would be happy. Seek every where her charm ! I Ei-h by toil we best may find them, When living on the farm. I Cities may have great attractions, Procured if we have wealth ; Yet think ye what the country gives ! The rosy cheek of health. Farewell, farewell, ye blessed scenes Here by the river side ; I Oreat thought of thee is yet unborn In mansions to abide. , A youth he was, but soon a man to be ; i His look proved strange, though mortal I buch was he ! His form developed once in better trim ; I His elMjuette nVr proved his eye sight dim Lrrtain now effected by many skcplsj nights ; '^ This sacrifice he makes to save his future rights. His lal)or hard, with experience none the best. Afraid to go alone and yet to take a guest ' Loud 13 his praise from those who know him well ; No rest by day when they in night excel. His mustache young, untrained they bring to play, " Mid truthful points, which touch his loving way. " The tricks he played, that he might them evade. Are now in photos, one by one conveyed ; Produced so near to life, surprised he can't deny. In silence with ignorance feigned they must pass by. Delighted by each success they now teek the more To find those truths which he will least from them adore. Is life worth living, may ergaee his vow ? If she stilt lives, I think it will be now. When first we met a charm did I discover. Unknown did 1 -dmire, jea was thy lover ; Concealed from thee my thoughts, afraid to speak, Lest ye should doubt my worth and be not meek. 'Twas there my life in twain was severed far apart ; Lach hour without thy love, divided was my heart ; Fittch friendly look from thee, however slight, would please ; Heedless of wealth, for thy reward would moment's seize. Ye seemed an acgel sent by God to bless. Yet knew not where till need alone would guess. Now courtship hath connected heart and hand ; Our spoony look is played by mimic brand. iMo peace is found except alone with thee, Indted .». fih.-vrm-whilst,— =hincs futurity ; Wou d ye dessert me ? Consider all kindn.ss done, Those trips you well enj.yed before the setting sun. 42 Poetry and Poems of Alfmd Stafford. VVouki^ye for ake and lose with me aud Thos^e j^iaka of thought and love, the cost of True thou hast said amid thy beauty proud ■ iieioie the eye of them ye love so well. I fly wealth i8 ife, undying to oxcel ' '""ri?d''«''^'"''«^^"'^^--''-y^ Live^t^o please thy God and not thy alre.dy ""TJeif'^a.'^ ^°^'«' -^ - ^^-^ ^° 'blrtr,""'"'"'"''^ «'"" ''"' ^^'^ ««''=ted Purity of love ever is defiled j ay nohea seen outside the simple child. WouH^_ they consen^ deny, my looks are ; Unvarnished to behold. God loves the ^ Pew habiu tarnish either mind, or soul • ; Few^pasMons quench, or pass my self con- ! I am^ not perfect in mind, or soul, as yet I ''"t"i^g&"'°'^''"'^'''«'^.'-"d«»'-t; ^''^ dS'f ''■'^^ ^"^«'« my maker's ^ise ! *'^t^notT.*'' ■* -^''''f"^ ^^^-\ TrlrfK-' r^"^" ^*"« "«"' with me in line True this I say .- A lover's fame u mine. \e know not what ye here would do. Ihy home is God's, not thine ! It y« were him and I were you 1 change thy place for mine. Wake up 1 Oh beast, thou selfish fool And share thy bed and leaven ! A step like this would surely be A step from heil towards Heaven Love Thy Neighbor as Thy Self. Pjmposed b.fore retiring one cold u,inter's niglit.~The liut/ior. The bitter gale with terror froze, I ThT u°r H^ ^^'"^ »°d fast, ' R J„.' /k « t"^\' increased and rose Before this howling blast. ^Tn2iu^'''i''-^^!i'"''« P^th to-night ! Unsheltered m his form ; °^^-r'''"? ?^''«''«t*' and courage bricht While in this pelting storm. ^ ^wt.iT"-'' ?. "'^^ hardened heart, Which would not bid him at«„ . ' But turned him out and saw hiii, ^tart 1 such a naked way. Coniposcd on luariug „ „„,„ ,,-, • returmng from „ st, oil in the 7c'oods. Thy sweetest song, thy mellow voice. Inspires me again, ' As on I walk with inward talk, lecharmingbird the wren. 1 e while away the golden hours. „,?''^'»,t"'g nothing wrong j ' K"P'."^""''^*''^'»'''''''bout, i<-!4ch welcome tender song. NonpI.ed by harms request ? M "u' ,'"*' ^^""^ I would not seek Nor hold it in my breast. ' Go wiug thy way ye clever bird. Trust not this form of man ' B^,f A'"^' ^^^' ""^ 'he same, Hat differ m their plan. ^ An?hni'''f °".' ^^y '''" *•' P'^^se. All those fond nature's friend ^i'hus fulfil thy maker's wUi And His created end. Tempt Us Not Again. Gathered from a slip of paper ; time of ■writing unknown. °J Ye tempting lovers of the glass. Vile derangers of purer men, btm haunts our doors and try their locks Oh ! tempt us not again. ^' Ye must not enter thieves of thrift To make our house a wretched glen • Leave us now. at once, forever! ' Ob ! tempt us not again. On our paths we meet them daily- Satan s angels, but where and when ' God of mercy guide, defend «s. ° " ^o never yield again ; Gaurd us that no foe deceive us. Oh ! tempt us not again. Poeby and Poems of Alfred Stafford. *t ve here would jlo, lofi's, not thine ! i.i)n or conuludu, liut shift and tlide to mil their mo..d Man formed in lift- without re^tntint, Proves more ,i dt vil than a saint. Tlie (Irunkatil nmkes (iis SHni(dt' fine. To live a life, iht' (Mir>n of wine j Vet what a critic lo coudeinn Nuch fduliN fts these in other men He a siudt nt, cli vt-r ^h')wn To revi-ul faults which hide his own. Alhtists exi^t ; bub in di-guiHe, Amid the gooil, surn then: h^ lies. He holds their niiint\ weik fiithleMS thief. Possessed in heurt by lUihtlief. He came u sinner poor forlorn, lint nevtr fincp, increased reform ; Varnishe ^hich I near '""uJplT""" '^ '='""P'^^^- '^^ chink Poetry and Poema of Alfred Stafford. 45 I choose to walk .-ather than take a hone to Tine, Alone and unobserved I .lowly tread mv way, ' ' Faaaed every now and then by team.tera on theif aleigh. , The villagv reached decidedly, I turn to- ' wards her store. The proper place to buy, inside ; but near I the door I am saluted by a friend with beardless ohin, Who asks in vain for me to join him at tho inn, j Whioh noisely skirts the way unto the I village school : j At this as other times my resolutions rule • ' Deep silenoe does not always give consent as tongues have said, j And never shall to such a call if half the i ilcsh be dead. i Where worldliness rules unre.trained.as out upon the street Where natural laughs of flesh l.i.ilt pleasures reign secure, Where frivilous conversiug yid.ls not prohts sure, Where envy governs, lest some should gain in lower ways, Where satan's rtark impurity sends round nis tempting trays. Some hoddy doddies slip-slop have obtained. Slang whangers in the audience placet gained ; ^ Topsy, turvy their frugal minds now feiaa Now on the threshold, I with wonder do observe : A keeper's pomp, as if all credit to deserve. With decency 1 pay my toll, then inwardly pass on, ■' Where people beneath embellished -.vails are thither drawn. Odd, oddity and oddness of our race are gathered here. Of many in shapes and sizes down to the nursling dear, Impatiently awaiting some elixir nigh to gam, " When far above confusion roars a mockery of a train. ' The chairman old, yat hearty, now gets seated on his chair. Presently ascends the show to open in pro- gramme fair : *^ A professor leads in music, pure undisoord- ed strains, What a talent he possesses, revenled by en- chore gains. Again from above the platform's closest border. Sternly rings out our chairman's cry for better order, Which as yet hath not been granted By a people half enchanted. possessed ; Whilst horty, torty. rules around thU shame well guessed ; Such heads as these make lost vessels term- ed a lugger ; Loaded with their cargo purchased haaaer, mugger. '* ' In hurly, burly, they seem to enjoy the Indeed much to theirs, but not so to my I delight. Untuned sing song have the audience now in rhyme. As shifting feet and flying candies beat the time ; Offensive breath tf those near to my side rtoth bear A foul perfune of alcohol instilled in there. Yet not quite enough to set his rapids fly- Quickly down into rooks of public shame and mire, ^®'g^"j^e^ enough can I detect upon that To tell he yet may live to die a drunkard's death. He also spokp about the good these enter- tainments done, Yetl must know the reason why many good people shun Such places where all classes in one mixed body meet, Meanwhile the programme, half unheard. IS passing on In choice music, dialogue, and patriotic song. Of which some senseless hearers well had chanced to know, And with their noisy hum the time doth mingled grow ; But see that lad who sings straight onward 88 before, Which has within its chorus "British to the Core." He will not be provoked from duties soverign cause, And so ends up triumphant amid unfeigned applause. " Now at last appears Miss Tobin upon th« platform gay, m . 46 H«r.o.t„., ,„"*/. ^ T,. MMd..]!, '■""""""Wo/g,,,,. F'cue 18 iung, ""• ""6 noal wl ""«nteat way, ' •" ■" iti •"fcirr.,''"''' "•«" ".".. wu ' '"'.irr. .'" "- «'".^.», J. >l»ir ."«.dCtS.'A'" "'^,■"1 """U V„ '.'■''"81"' ^" I-"' "> «»pr". ... f "'cv:.';'!'..-""^"""'— dd. , x:rs' '° "»" — ... Tha end, perhap, More th« . ^u ^"'"re tffi ''"'"'•« »« «reatneaa of ouowy road, •- "'ong the ./Ir-toKCe^fo™ the gate. Which 'tt/Kar"^ -'•-'« Who eacort. J»-e'-- -til, honored a. a ^;tttLSrn;''^'^'«''^^Vehe„,«Hto„t J;ttThtL7ote?«-^»^«^t.then PilieraSr '*''"•--. "-^^hta up hia Thev*'''*'*''*""»^"'de "'"*'«'''«. '^hioh ^'""' '^corded «,ithi, »u- . Jhey may ,n turn find ; aiater «,k V u ^«»>eration «ivln *"• "'""'o oi them the reat, ""®' "^^^ Mcorta I ^« book of booka thlu'u, x To spend an hour 'jater atill h„n . I u,. '"Wime, ' '^' ^'^^^ "^ «fe the moat ^ '^oman'acuest • """.honored aa a Which tell«nfr • But ahould itCtt; ..„„:._ . in^ uJ'l?i'^i"«t. our Saviour a*..-.. I-'glaK joins this hurry-aoum^ to reach the door ^ "^' -""Pwap, *Vho could kepn f,«„ • ' ^ by the unXeT? '"""""tion. crowded Alow in lateneiiii a r H„J"'r «"•«'«" "train"^"'^''' ''*^«"'^« to alo« ai mf ;,; "^' p'^^b"™. thi. sublinie, ^ " ""' ^ue moat XS^t^5Sj;r«----^t. The Christian Man. f-^une, 1896 J Be 'ruUfurti^therord'Hr,'' '" "«««' ^ A°d truly bleaaed [,'hu "act"' ''»«''n?n?r:«t':' '" '"'"'^ '^''th show For he th^e LSa n,*""!" ""'^ ' e^ord a moat worthy child, when laden down ^uu ^ ■ , ^ Hia p.t.eDceTea« S.*""^^ **' "»'•«. Through fdiowshT;'w5hGod"'''"'*'' /"^'"''--edTha^;yhVmr'-' C^hildren honor suofe f.»K._- . way to niftnkiod. ae. -Monuments of *^ame. Ihy monument, of great l^vation rl.e. above «l, lament., when ad.niniat. ^ aurrender in all j^e imetery with all i,, Jj ,'" J've. of modern. •» may with wi,do.n ^enduring p^th and '- but to exprew one 'o thoae monuments »Ph8 of fame was all tjiln hia walh, the re to greatneaa of ''•> thia olaasio of »>'« of life the mo8t our Saviour await- Q Man. 5 J m man, ) etand in need ; His pl*n, i« seed. »nd doth show inciled, I blow ; worthy child. ialj of care, not alone, ^od in prayer, PPy homei 5 ucar oving praiae ; Temperance *Bxhortetion ^^1/ «^c. PO..S 0/ .z/,,;,,^^^^^^^ All ar« wan "?1 ^^ ""ufliuf. V'ctoryahHllbe.ieJtlw"* 'p.l7h*^"il''T''"'«'''"'der May feel H need for aftf;.:^irred. I D_ ?"f ""d «'l while her/,,:, ..,,u Gii,Y„T°°'" '" ""''*•'> this pr 2^ ^ "• "" AbotTh^ "'^^•"^ '" bi"h' Above this earth', dark vanitieb. I Th.ir p/th.TearrX'Vul '^'"^•z I „ K»oh for forev/r ,. .^ « "^ '*""« forlorn. Oh •' whut a pal^Vh"'^ /"'■"r*'" •"ore. k, A. it link, So i,.^ •'*"«'' '•'^ide. C -eating i''''Jf'«"'o« way. 'Twi»r .1^ • 'J*" ''"Pth beside. ^"'m.hemandthee^reaCday I Cmrol thy..lfaudbe»man fcfton tfidv fi^ t jy i ""^"l of O.^Ln ''^""' "^ " ^'"'rming \ " J ""• iievil, thus acconlit,,, , a, • ' "' U'hich mankind seek toZ. ' '' '" 'ke manner s/Vit '"'"'''''' ''''■ A.Stafford ' """ ''"'^Mions.^ 47 Why delay until to-morrow ' When precioua time s all h..f "°*^' I P^Per as a sampj^^ftr'' "^'"^ "" ( i- "/ "ly Idle miHufis. i>h:re'tfcf?^>K Of hi. corners. I Old maid's who utonT"^' "^"-^^ ' ^ From disturbani,. llf 7" ""ers. ' True a home may kUw no^n/° ^'T^ ' Yet is it consiir"d7o"r;;/t'""'«''*«f. Or „ • ^ '''^ lonesome ear " Wh""'' r"*" deserted sigh Where thoughts of prideltlive the tear Yea. picture tach gay look ofJ""" '^ ""'" ' Unru ed in the phiU . u ^ Pleasure, Which ahaU^bMn^fS^rrffl"'' ^ Future, of tr,.th is, . hI • *«l'ot«OD, P-ture by pen ;LVbypL^[r '• leil them how no other riohe. Can'.t.urpas,ahighnoWe"name. 48 Poetry and Poems of Alfred Stafford. Written one evening at sunset after a hard day's toil, April, 1898. Here as I sigh, I yet behold the setting sun, To behold the greatest task as not the easiest done ; Little by little perfected as yet we live Inspires us reward by wisdom's crown, Thu» continued with duty well begun Hath more than half of life's victory won. — A. Stafford. Augrust, 1895. A short sketch touching upon my sufferings in the above mentioned year, at which time my life was in a very hopeless state ; when my recovery seemed very doubtful indeed. Just sore aflSicted is this heart of dust, Unfertile soil ; To meet the soul's procrastinated God, 80 long delayed. Wild love lies tamed amist this aching fiesh Of healthful spoil, With self desire which sought to rule the breast. At latt decayed. Great buds of life ate in this season born. Which span, that circle of eternal bliss Where golden heaven^ dawn in day of light. —A. Stafford. Poem on Fashion. Words in poems of fashion In this great world today ^ Holds not a rank in place, or prank, For truths a bard would say. Surface signs, fulfil not The search of his desire. As depth replies and truths arise The whole world shouts thou liar. This incense and abode Few poets wish to bear. For heart and hand with her they stand To make truth's poems most rare. Form hath growth deceptive Our female long to mar, So much I guess in foolish dress Men wonder what they are. Those hoops of twenty years ago Was one to make men fret. Perhaps like I you'd wonder why A kiss was hard to get. The bustles of ten years ago, The bustle on the rear, Its length and siza— its width and rise, No man could love— but fear. False head-dress then engaged the mind At very rash expense, 'Twas labor lost, but never cost A grain of common sense. Tired legs of fashion jumped the hoop. Bustles forsook the rear. Great loops and frills turn out to be Expense instead of cheer. Still one by one another fad, Odd dress they love is true, As thunder clouds before the sun Big sleeves rise up in view. But baby's fashions seldom change. No matter when, or where ; Fashion suggests no simpler garb J More safe than its square. Poor woman hath her faults to bear And hear their husbands boast : That they all fashion's do despise, Unlike the female host. Their dress is always very plain, Omitting hat and wig. And dudes with breeches frogleg tight And others loose and big. And coats cut square and swallow tail. And collars low and high. And razor toes on dressy shoes. Yes ! laced with latest tie. They never seem to talk, or hint About their biggest ships. Whose pipes stick out above the deck, Held tight between two lips. But men they will forget their ways When in their common clothes. For now and then I see them draw Their coat sleeve cross their nose. Their hands get greased up now and then, Such things will be by chance ; They never think to wash them oflP, But wipe them ou their pants. Yet not a whit of decency Can we as husband's find In any woman, or her dress Regarding cost and kind. If women possess no virtues, What could be said of men I The most slovenly of mortals Is good enough for them. Poetry and Poems of Alfred Stafford. 49 h and rise, ear. ed the mind 308 1 the hoop, it to be ) sun hange, ' 5 garb to bear oast : apise, ain, gleg tight allow tail. bint the deck, )8. ir ways thes, draw ir nose. ow and then, aoe; 3in off, nts. Toiliner- (May, 1895.; From hour to hour the bee speeds on ; Flower to flower from day light till dawn. Through i;reasures of beauty she unceasing- ly wings. Through riches of woodlands she content- edly siufts ; 8till humming, still drumming. Onward she goes. Working with pleasure, although the wind blows. Gathering her treasure a rich harvest she Whose time exceeds not the life of the bees. When honey seasons are over, When plenteous harvest is past. No more Dlooms the clover Within autumn's faded contiast. Duelling as stately as Queens did of old. Whilst seasons past ye by ; Heeding not weather, both dreary and cold. Feeding there on an abundant supply. For honey sustaineth life to the bee. As health is to life that dwelleth in thee ; Striving for food, both getting and giving, Marketh the toil of creatuies here living. 1 I Stars of Liffht- (J»ne, 1897. > Thou tremblins star, yet shining bright, That spreads alar a vivid light Where never cloud hath rolled, Beyond that rise, above the skies Is Heaven built in gold. Upwards from me light is treasure. Biding with thee double pleasure ; Pure virtue here I find, As I gase upon the rays Where no darkness dwells behind. More are growing, other* ranging. Some bestowing, beams unchanging, Each a message of love To and fro on us below From a higher world above. Towards early morn, when shadows creep Away in scorn, beneath the deep. Then from our earthly vision rise Numerous gems, which glory hems Around for morning's sacrifice. Our naked eye can'st not reveal Wonders that lie hidden so real ; Even leaves of the wood, Which wave and blow, can'st never show So great a magnitude. They all night long keep a peeping. Without a song, still keep reaping Such charms, which, but admire Within our hearts, serving as darts To wing the souls desire. Unto that place far up above Of endless grace, where God is love, Heavenly portals such they be : Ye balls of light, the souls delight Through all eternity. The above poem, " Stars of Light," is ont of my earliest compositions, —A. Stafford. The Little Messengrer. By the cradle sat a young mother Quickly plying needle and thread, A stitch then follows another. Each making her baby a bed. While close by the earth in the corner The father aits beaming with pride. Thinking his house will be warmer Since his own sweet son he hath spied. His heart seems filled to overflowing. He dandles that child on his knee, Backwards and forwards he's going. Your my little darling you see. Come my own, but prein untold. fertile dominioua I is unfurled, er a ruler, ;en8 the world ; proclamation »r long noble reign, coronation impbs with fame, bion, >r increase of salvation, on of peace. ?Iory, or splendor in arms, endered ns ; in'a vast empire, t cast, ers of sorrow ath passed. ■oughout Nature the best ; d hovel > breast. I can e're shelter, san'st give, Bs in our doorway »iay live ; I extended, >r heart by her « true smybols, F her land ; been opened lyed, n of freedom in aid. thy birthday e ; it most worthy you, >roolamation B o'er the sea, bration ubilee ; >ice8 shall raise n. Poetry and Poems of Alfred Stafford. 81 Each hertrt tuned with prayer the strungest of praise For England, but God save our Queen. The above poem was composed on the morn- ing of May the 2^th, 1897. Its style and | eomp:.sition differing from any hitherto writ- ten by me. I will not make any further comments upon it, as I trust the poem will \ comment for itself. \ -By A . Stafford, i And ever aided by thy grace ; Keep faith joined with courage in me, Until fulfillment I embrace? The Sinner's Prayer. To night my Lnrd I cannot rest On luxurious beds of t^ase ! They give not ptsace of mind to me, All earth proves vain to please. I once cuuld on m" 'Jot of straw Receive swee' ,. repose; But since I fai • ant thee Lord No comfort ■ ' . ivs. My hours are spent in dreadful dreams That haunt me day by day. Great God restorer of all peace. Here teach me to obey. Oh ! teach to me deep paths of truth. Which never shall depart In darkest time of adverse life, Now ruined it my heart. Implant in me that gift to know The paths of right from wrong, That I may lisp to thee again A tuneful, brighter song. Oh God ! I knew not of thy power, The fullness of thy grace, Which I behold this passing hour So deep so full to trac{>. Teach me to know my errand well And works which ought to be, Control my tongue in truth to speak : God Lord thou knowest me. Help me Lord to rule o'er passion And triump every care ; Fill me with thy voice of wisdom. Tuned in heart, tuned by prayer. Guide me now, Oh blessed Saviour ! Pray strengthen me from earth's decay Satan watches near to tempt me, — -**" «— r.-— s pOw^sions p&ss ftwdv. May I have desires worthy, The Soul's Awakening. Tired and altne here in vain I seek for rest. While the darkening shadows cancel from my sight Those paths leading to scenes where others have confessed, Sought to begin once more and guide their steps aright. My soul at last hath grown weak by man sin stained days, " Still one by one they yet return my troubles to incrf ase. I long to be a child again on Christ to utter praise, For through him only must I Lnd true happiness and peace. Thoughtful conscience now exhorts me this onward step to take. And varnish away forever all worldly thoughts and fear, To grasp another infancy and thus from sin I awake, I For such did Jesus shed his blood, along \ with precious tears. Now weary of this wgrld and Uden with my hardened sin, I present raystlf to thee, sintjere and with sweet accord, That I may find forgivness and grace to my soul therein. In the spirit of our Jesus, Redeemer and our Lord. Forgive, yea take my soul all to thee I fnllv owe, "' And ever teach me with thy blessed voice so meek and mild. Gift me that I may on other creatures thv love bestow, To ever bow before thy face a father's worthy child. Such is the soul's awakening to one eternal day. Great celestial light is shining to guide us from this land ; There is but one path to enter, God pro- pbasies the way. None are ever lefi behind who obey the Lord's cohimand. 52 Poetry and Poema of Alfred Stafford. Sonnet hera beneath with might the and The lightninft m Heaven's flash, The thunder echo forth power, But man is frail ; Great beauty now possessed can'st pass away, *^ 'Tis but an earthly splash, Struggling with some fashionable hour With life to fail. Death may escort us off within a day, Our cherished hopes may blasted be. Our pride may lead us to eternal rfeath. How blindly we our brightest prospects see. Oh ! what this life ruled by a seltish whim. Without a knowledge of our Maker's will • Ali gum is dying thirst and foolibh still. Oh ! Ignorant are but earth, the learned. the shower ; Gold our weakest riches, knowledge equals power. once My Life a Lamentation. A poet great is but a humble man Inspired by his God, The spirit faith propels his fame, With patience is he shod ; His namely growth is as these tender blades. Which 'neath the Heaven's wait. Amid these darkeniag hours of time. For dewa^irhich ttSK too late. HiB life sees not but drought within its day. Few showers fall to quench his thirst or wash his way ; Uncertain pi-aise bedecks his pathway as he goes, ' Supplies of nourishment this gennis mldom knows ; His present name and worth, ingratitude speaks not to save. Until poverty crowns his life, whilst glory crowns his grave. Man ! where is thy reason, Hidden aa yet unseen ! Why mourn o'er thy once worthy dead. Now past all human aid ? Turn,— breathe thy life into the present age; Not embitter life which liveth but a season. And decorate the unclean grave with ferns. As nation's have the seoocd tomb of Burns ; Supply needful cinders unto this hearth. my breast. While burns my spirits fast, consuming fire. Which early, soon munfc die= The oil of support my early genius hath not yet known, But flitttering tonguas to hinder ; Eoiightened purity of my poetic toll, Such gifts but add fresh unseen burdens to my soul. Yon lamp is but a cloud When debt supplies her light ; Each iieeiing day is but my shroud, It to denies my right. And yet oh Lord, my master and my guide, Why should this be when everything is thine, * The nearer I unto thy breast must rise. The more all men my spirit do depise. The purest talent tasteth great of pain, Indulgence finds reward by practise vain. On earth, yea earth alone. Sonnets. Know thyself ye natural, boundless man. This IS a sermon of all life itself, A Heaven lies before such humble thought, Which few do ever seek, or wish to bear. Man know thyself when in some false dis- guise. As man but great amid external men. Know ye are evil when thy passions rule. And blind unto thyself and Heaven's God. The essence of all good live in spirit, For truth alone must mould the model man. Know thyself before the light and truth of Christ When haughtiness pervades thy paths to roam ; Self knowledge is a gift no rival can supply, Except by such which tends to weaken and to die. II This life in which I daily live is but A dim reflection of my celestial home ; Theje thoughts which crown my mind are but to give, Those fruite which I obtain through Christ alone. Still day by day as on this path I tread. My soul expands in wisdom and in grace. As up a mountain is my walk of time. Each step is strength, which it shall n'er deface. "Gainst all earth hath my spirit to contend, Her pain and thorns come more to heal than rend ; Such must I reap if I would well ascend With inward joy, peace, faith, belief and Ufa ; Upoi my daily journey up this slope, Thi// comfort gives earth's death, my spirits hope. *^ Poetry and Poems of Alfred Stafford. 5X der ; etic toll, MO burdens to light ; y 8broud, »nd my guide, I everything is must rise, lo depise, at of pain, traotise vain, ndless mr«n, elf, rnble thought, 'ish to bear, lome false dis- tal men. assions rule, eaven's Ood. spirit, he model man. and truth of thy paths to al oan supply, > weaken and is but tl home ; my mind are itough Christ ih I tread, id in grace, of time, I it shall n'er t to contend, nore to heal rell ascend bh, belief and » slope, ,h, my spirits III That faith whict I observe within the child, When perched upon hia Godly mother'o knee, f^o simple, pure and childish undefiled, In after years of age I seldom see ; Great as he becomes taught the language of the earth. His flig of faith is pieced by patch and seam, Until from furled, Thus comes world. His many colors plecse his vision well ; His friends are many, who possess such growth and birth. The simple while from which they first be- gan Is kept and carried in a hidden way ; Whilst varied colors change as life doth plan. So oomes the change and growth of faith in weight and shame the first is divided faith throughout the way. Where sped away the would be vacant night, Of winter's tide, in quickness and delig, i. My sires taturn, how wtlcome to his thought and age, That ruddy glow which quickly bade hia chills assuage. The busy murmur mingled with the children's laugh, Ascends to tell, but feign could speak an entire half Of all thy joys we meet, where e're we roam Amid this hearth where love adorns the home. VT man. IV Each minute passed, though unobserved is time, The past is lost, the present is but mine ; Govetiousness can'st not return by wishes sought. Everything when lost is gone, the change is wrought. Our life dwells here, the present is our own, Why turn we back to look and fret, 'tis flown ? Forever a space is left unfilled, alas ! Idleness a common error hews this pass ; That past is debt, paid it must, dear ' brother. When here holes men dig to plug another, j Rather than at once reveal their state and grace. This a shame, their fellows to an end will trace ; Yea laugh and mock, but wise is he, when he again must live ; Such is the time when Christ is come His debtors to forgivs. j Thit cherished hearth of fondness and re- view. Bright casket, which from infancy I knew ; A mother's love ranks foremost there to priEe, Aad here lo-day her presence I surmise. Thy evening chat with undulated sway. Bright jokes became the busy neighbors' I The present lost in sunny dreams of earth. Is lost indeed 2 The most beautiful oft, adorn the weed, Flowers whose beauty bloom forth to perish : Good looks are short and frail, Which we admire and crave in heart ex ternal God, — God of declining life. Quench desire and contented be, A taste is all and mort than ye can'st bear ; Gratitude crowns thy spirit into a perfect soul For Heaven's path, a circle found. Hour by hour, each well employed, when fled, Give strength as we rf^uire, Yea lifts us diligenily from all fceauty dead. Vll This is God's word now void of doubt to me conveyed, Spiritinily concealed upon this humble page, Once deserted by my heart, loved in sin to sway, Which nov7 by wisdom reason speaks and bids its stay. Trusting never more into wilderness far to roam ! This is my |j;uide, whilst obedience builds my home ; This earth forms my altar, thy truth is fuel to burn. Which others see, and all my steps from thee they learn : Religion taught and in this volumn found, Is not aspiration of earth in mound. Such as denies this selfish soul its strife Is spiritual, and quite another life ; Faith for its foundation, love its power, A cloud, indeed, yet blessed is its shower. M Po0try and Poems of Alfred Stafford. VIII W^stei^^'f^i '" ^ ^y wisdom schooled. VHsdom imiUted ye hand of earth. Choice of man to give aspirated birth ; Irue aspiration sound ideal, the life of him Who hved and died for us, Redeemer of Si 8ID. WeA.i'"' ''.i^^*'"^ wpiratioD gained. S'ln'^rf'"',' *'■'"' Heavenly dove. On all alike -for such is love f trie ^^ P"yerful. faithful, eve^ ^'o language from a mortal foxguc Swells forth 7i-ith greater praise ; J^o themes of life are higher strung, As friends tee spend our days. O'er yonder scene a curtain huntt. Wh«nT"°*'u''''r«'' ^''*' "uUen roar. When through the woodlands rain drop. Like waters 'gainst a stormy shore ■ wMT '\ «?/«l°Pe« my home Priy.i •^.''I'J'H*' drops and hurried splash aru"? """ "^^^^ mud.like foam ^ ' Which wash the slopes as on they dash • Whilst flowing waters ch- -n the pool. Light dawns in the southern sky Kioh that space of wonderous blue. Transparent to the gazing eye, Thl ,h!; r^""" '•'i' "'^^^^ •'i'chanted view. The thunder sounds the distance back Reserved the clouds move to that scene Yet leave behind their silver track And nature clothed in double green. %o Ki^K^T' "'^y -"^Kht abscond, lo cleave the day and light beyond. Heaven abounds in beauty meet me there. —A. Stafford. Written After Viewing a Morn- msr Thunder Shower. The sun had lit the eastern sky Th„ '* ?t'*aked light its furrows ploughed Though calm below-the breeze bleS„h Th^l^f "'•'''i^ 'P^'' the flying cloud.' The sultry air deceived the morn, ihen ac its cool accostumed hour 1 he southern veil was closer borne, "showTr"'*' ^'•' '^' approaching. Lightening flashed with vivid light, ! The thunder rolled with livid might. The heaving mass now darker grew Th„. .*"". ?P"x° "" •=**■«•' ^ shine. T„ Z'^^X ^'"T ""y «"« withdrew Thin ^vJ"'*\ *"""«' o^-her clime j Ra^j/'k'' !!!''*' "P,"" ^•'« slivered rail j Bwed by the swift returning bees nrT? . "■* the unexpected gale. Whioh yields their t,im»l "»...^ii__ .• Before the ehower'sbustiing train i The following had for its source a great I JlyW of a usenunt. raving had the goo.. iJo^nne of witnessing r girl flght, at which i theZ'-fTT^ is admirably displayed in the spirit of the moment. — The Author, There wer. threats and there were misses There were flying skirts and histes ' I There was anything but kisses ' At hf> brawl. There was bitting, there was spittinjr Th! '^^^ tempers «t iu head. ^' O^Z^ ^"biting, thore was fightina Over gall they could not bear.* * lill I grew afraid to mingle. Lest should I be mangled there. When their strength from them retreated Both opponents felt defeated "^""^ed From some fearful wound to die, Which was close unto the heart Yet healed by a hearty cry. Which from bitterness doth sever Making friends as good as ever ' i>y the brawl. The Drunkard's Home. ^''^•drutVrdTS^r-^----rthe 'rei;::rai?ne ?"^ ^'•«P«°'« - feel our- n hung, sullen roar, lindi rain drop« ormy shore ; ' home id hurried splash, te foam M on they dash ; cool, 1' ra the pool. rn sky, Jrous blue, eye, lichanted view, tance back, 9 to that scene, )r track uble green, {ht abscond, ht beyond. source a great r had the gov.. fight, at which bly displayed in -The' Author, I were misses, hisfees, )8 Poetry and Poema of Alfred Stafford. 55 ringing out 1 jawing, spitting, Id, ighting m retreated ie, •t. vet. otne. I we near the I we feel our- But, hark ! there is music through the chilling air. The mournful voice of a woman, once happy young and fair. Heart thrilling, the sound drifts upward in strains so rich and olpar. Out from that broken windowed rJungeon, yet from a heart most dear. To cheer up those little inmates whose choking sobs increase.. C! ! may they dwell in another land, one of joy and peace. The song ended— a voije pleads upwards in faltering prayer For a safe return, her husband whose faults she has to bear. The chill of the night increases amid th" pelting rain. The worn-out hearth lies vacant, only the ashes remain. The utensils of this prison are scanty, yet how neat and clean. But to her eye are mocking and only a wretched ''ream. ' That picture the clocks face yonder, doth fill her heart with pain. For the thoughts of him debauching now twists that tortured brain. His child on the straw beside her, the sweetest and the best. Hath fled from pangs of hunger, ever in Heaven to rest ; Forsaken this home of coldness, of passion , and of lust. Thus deserting a mother to escape this cage of dust. Hark ! above the sobbing his step echoes 'cross from the door. That father returning home again, as he often came before. Not again to abuse his child or rouse him fro"" his sleep, That ghastly face, those sightless eyes will out both hard and deep. The Tended Garden (f'l two parts- spring and snmmer.J Parti. Spring Time, Tended garden, epot devine. Where the weed is daily sought. Murdered by a prudent thought, ^^«. I question seeking more. AH'ure feeds thy humble store. « logs thee anything but joy • Insects whioh ye here employ, limely hands are not delayed. Yonder ye are being sprayed. Trust rne not, lest I forget. With thy secrets hidden yet ; Mind I well, when bat a boy Uf thy treasured raptured joy. Here white blossoms load the vine Nature's finger.-not for mine, ' here fond nature paints the rose. Here the yellow lily grows, ' Here the grass is tended green, Her'^The hC ""*' *° *="*"" t^e scene. Here the b ossoms swarm with bees Here the birds nest in the trees. ' Here 18 toil, here its reward Richly painted on the sward. Here the children play at ball, Heedless, careless of jt all • «7*u^Py (®®'^ ^ ""o^e unshod' While they play upon the sod. Yonder fields must envied be. Now as beautiful as thee ; Uandylions paint with gold. Was BHeh beaaty ever told ? 1 here are garden's now at will Naked to the nightly chiJl, Thus untended they may pass Unlike plants beneath the glass, hafe to mock soils thirsty wrath T«n J /i''?u*"'°'' «P"Dkled bath ; Tended do thy garland's twine . Where the morning sun doth TK-lt'^VP? ^^^ humming bird. Thither by his thirst is stirred shine, Friend, this home was robed in mourning— j caused by the cup of woe, ; Nor is it yet the only one's that through our j lands may flow ; I Learn now to leftve the slasa Mens by ■ thirst ye sorrow crave, " ' } Before it sinks thy all and all to vanish in i the grave. 1 Rich perfume doth here abide. Rich with music as with scent. As in pleasure all is spent. Here the leaves do thicker grow or. -he uuaiics bloomiug «o. Noticed sad the thought to see Yonder fading girdled ti-ee. Tended garden this I trace A6 Poetry and Poems of Alfrod Stafford. Now the time its life nplace. Spring t.n.e tended thi« thy birth (.arden fruitage, tasty earth, ' Hotter doth the sunshine burn iiriiigiDg summers sure return. Part II. Summer. Summer, summer, summei's will VeildiDg riper fruitage fctill, J ended garden by the wav. Tended yet from quick decHV • Aow fhv vines of widened spread Load with ber/ies scarlet red Quick to stain and blear the lip, * Tst the thumb and finger tip • W.howers fall-summer rains Blessings many busy gains ; ' Toil IS needed, time is o'le, t;olden precious as before. W and then the toilers go Mpjmg weeds by horse and hoe. Tended garden, fruitful sure As with profits je mature ^"W potatoes yield us food Now tST'*''''"-'°P«^''at stood; Aow the union suits the taste, Grearthr«'^t?''» placed, yreat thy treat from bush knd Stirther''*"u^'**'°"«««"e; '.VI H !l- ''u'^^" ^''*™ the gaze lended garden is it true ^\ here thou art our wants are few ' In thy image do I find *'^ '^*^ • lended garden of the mind. Neath Yonder Trees. A faithful beast it was no doubt ^^J'/^ "Wage had worn it out, ,.^*.«'«»dyas itliethnow It daily tugged the heavy plow • «?n ?K^''Tf '^^«t«=''' void of respect So thoughtless as this grave negUct! vine, I« gratitude by thee possessed, Za^^T '"*^*' "'*"■ ^hore expressed ' Indeed It IS from morn nil uicl. I li.e air is robbed of sw.et delight • I What greets the breath disease, derav i By vermin life it lives to-day. ^' , O'er yonder road of travelled dust i he driver moves in deep .lisgust. He speed, his steed as on he goes, I Hal faint the la.lies hold their nosl. The truth before disclosed by me. SHV*"""'. "^ ''"y^'" "f this steed. Ir I 'l««P-»"r great its need. It owed thee nothing 'fore it died ^e owe the toil its form 10 hide ' A Hteed like this is out of place And bu.ldeth thee deserved di.Sce. A viler smell hath never rose As'from v„!i**''\'"'.'^ »''''«"« *'th woe,, AS from yon earth doth upward rise To swee. the plain as on it flies ; \^a\ ' * **y ^° ^""'"g him shame. And not expose abroad his name. The above poem was composed in a state of extreme annoyance, from which the reader canst r.adily guess. If won'.d not be a prudent act to disclose my whereabouts, a. such m,ght lead to unpleasantness of feelings. —The Author". J ",f."^'T'^ '« '/'^ «'ortky memory of Mr. .ll.am Gladstone, as a token of respect for the deceased Pre. er of Great Britain. Bespect for vtrtue followed in lifcrememb- cred ,;, death, worthy of a nation's honor, is the name of Hon. William Gladstone. A name he bore, lika to hia craoe and will Which^^triumphed in the 'r^^t^LTiZi'of Orated by a breast of earnest fire H?.TnK/° debate -gainst outspoken wrong His noble master mind declared its skill^" Before past storms of battle calm he s ood A man he was and yet the stateman's sir^ Who^e face shone forth his vivid thought to Drew every ear attentive, 'twa. his song. ed, 3 X pressed ? I uigl.'. elighl. ; iseajB, deray, y- J duat sgust. he goes, eir uose, aot ate, y me. steed, Deed, it died, de. )lace, lisgrace. e with woes, I'ard riae B8 ; shame, ne. * in a state o/ •It the reader 'd not be a creabouts, at ii of feelings, he Author. ihough pictured to no mortal eye. The Selflah Peddler A sketch true to life ; revealing the evil Jrom .Ignorance and vice -beautifully ex- posed. ■" ■' Over hills and round crooks of th. country. He travel, by wagon-a jew , ^' HiHuim and motto is money. Both narrow and surly his view. When early n„e evening I met him, He . .bbage.l the whole of the way. i Looking HeaTenward. Just a thought, just a word Warmly in a bosom stirred, Yet it is a name to priee. Hidden from these mortal eyes. Just a gift, just a prayer Pleading from a world of care. Yet it is a voice to gain Homething moro than mortal pain. Just a heart, just a child Weeping cause it is defiled, X «t a hero on to plodj Toiling for the cause of Ood. Just a murmur of amen. Spoken ever now and then. Yet all earth it doth eolipsi , Spoken througS divided lips. Just a hope— just desire To escape eternal fire, \ et two souls it oft hath bore Happy life forever more. Just a faith, just at heart. What our fate should such depart : Could we view a life like this ? Would we know of Heaven's bliss ? Just a word, just forgive, TeachetL sinners how to live i Just the little things of life Built by faith oan'st vanquish strife. A Closinsr Poem by the Author. Pressed by the labors of the farm. Pressed by my love to muse. Too pressed by want I must present No language to abuse. Up from the dust hath risen bards Before my age and day, l-rtke them I feel my time is short And too must pass away. ■^ ^''^'o ""ky condemn my words And never know the same, Yet mark the mind that judgeth skill And spoils a path t, fame. No riches have I Imt my own To fight this World of care j mJ/'*'^ ^ *'"' y«" "oh indeed. Whilst some be wanting there. I "»!?ht w'th.hol.l this treasured scope. Which follows mind and pen As yet unripe to shall jw minds. But truth must rise again. Finis. Finis ! the tone and thought of my once early youth, ^ T?*,** ?l' } 8*v«' y«t wished for mt e. dMir"e *'*'*' '^°**"" ^" '° '""'"°'' Of boundless youth as in my days of yorf , Where neath robes of idleness 1 hid tn shun the truth ; And memory fled, but through the gates of judgment's fire. Alas ! in cruel torture did I long remain. Yet turned when I to mercy lent my ear, lo heed that word which she would to me give. With all my lost did she bequeath, I live. The gift to labvr goeth before the pen. —A. Stafford. Expositor PRii*t, Skaforth.