3^' I no '^JZiiLo-^tf > < 7 -J :xr-t=r-*- ri > ft 4ilii Ainii POEMS By ANNIE TERESA HOGG D E N I S O N T E X A S en THIS LITTLE BOOK I DEDICATE TO MY BELOVED DAUGHTERS NELLIE AND GRACIE Copyright, 1920, by Annie Teresa Hogg Lenz & Riecker, Inc. New York, N. Y. 10 1921 ■g)C!.A617194 THE PASSING YEARS The passing years fly all too quickly by, Oh ! golden years of laughter, love and youth, Oh ! sunny years of song, of hope, and joy, All treasures these, which we cannot hold, For the passing years are very bold, and would tear them from our grasp. Oh ! golden years ; when from dewy eve until primrose dawn; We heard the nightengale calling ; and now as in the days agone, In the perfume of the summer night, 1 sit and listen to the sweetness of his song, Oh ! lonely years. Oh! years of sorrow when I first felt your loss. Oh ! Father turn back the years, that I again may meet her As she comes across the lea, And take her hand and lead her to the door of home. Oh! Years of sorrow. THE WEST WIND Lay me on the side of a sunny hill Where the West wind softly blows, And the blue sky watches o'er me broodingly, And the sunlight going down, Leaves shadows on the grass, And the west wind whispers as it passes. The softly falling Summer rain will bring the roses back again And o'er my head they oft will bloom, In rosy morning and golden noon, There I will lie in my dreamless sleep, Free from all care and world alarms, The birds will sing with joy in the Spring, And the West wind whisper as it passes. YOUTH Oh Youth beloved of the Gods and men, Stay yet awhile, I cannot bear to see thee go, And leave my sunny locks like snow, Or take the roses from my cheeks, And the light from the eyes he loves, Oh ! Youth I fear to let thee go, Stay yet awhile. Oh ! Youth I cannot bear to see thee go, Stay yet awhile, And help me hold with all my charm, Across the years that come and go, Oh! Youth because I love him so, I cannot bear to see thee go. Stay yet awhile. Oh ! Youth I cannot see thee go Stay yet awhile, Take not my springtime and my sun, . And leave me bitterness and woe, Oh ! Youth because I love thee so, I cannot bear to see thee go, Stay yet awhile. MY LITTLE BOY A head of soft brown curly hair, Eyes like the distant purple hills, A proud brave air and gentle as a dove. He has his mother's ways, 1 shall love him all my days, He is my little boy. Before his mother went away She gave me this dear son. That day the world looked very cold And drear, I always feel she's near When I hold this one so dear He's my pride. My little boy. Over hill and moor we often roam Then hand in hand we wander home As we sit before the fire He leans his head upon my knee I see his mother's ways, He is my joy. My little boy. NERO'S CAPTIVES Fear not thou dear one, lean thou on my heart, Be not afraid my sweet white fawn. The Fathers hath told me not long gone, If thou wouldst believe, thou wouldst be saved. Before lions' jaws tear thy tender flesh To ease thy pain, a philter I will give to thee, Pressed into my hand by an old black slave. Who nursed me in my childish days. No more shall rage surge across my heart, 'Gainst the cruel slaves of a more cruel king, I nothing fear, my beauteous one, With thee by my side, for thou art most dear. The Fathers say to believe in Him, And watch and pray, I believe he will send an angel of light, To bear our souls away. Tremble not, thou dear one, am I not with thee ? I will stand between thee and the wild beasts' fangs. Wouldst thou believe and be together in Eternity? The Fathers say to believe in Him, and to watch and pray. Oh, come blessed darkness, then wondrous day. THE OLD HOME ON THE HILL That old home on the hill seemed like heaven to me, In my childhood of long ago, and in the dusk of those dear old rooms, Loved voices would come and go. Below the old home on the sunlit hill, Ran the purling brook where we children played, And the path that led to the orchard wall, All these are gone beyond recall. From the old house on the hill we could see the river, And the white boats going out to sea. Where along shady paths, hand in hand we wandered, When life was young to you and me. ALONE You are dead — I grieve, and walk alone, The paths we oft trod together. In the scented dusk and evening glow, This garden abloom you loved so well. Brings memories of when we were wed, Just two short years had passed us by, Then they told me you were dead. Before they hid you forever from my sight. They dressed you in your wedding gown of purest white. In your sweet cold hands you held a rose, from your garden fair. They tied a snood of lace on your golden hair In the waning light the old stone bench gleams cold and white,^ — I sit here and dream I hold your hand. THE PATH THROUGH THE WOODS I dream of that path through the woods, Where in my boyhood, happy and free, I wandered with Joy, and my companions three, Where in spring time and summer, We knew every bird and tree. The soft pale green, of the stately Elms, The grey green buds of the lofty Oak, And the feathery fronds of the Locust trees, Its blooms were a feast for the honey bees. Then the saucy Blue jay, flitting from Hmb to limb. The Oriole, with his breast of flame, The swallows in their circling flight, And others too numerous to name. After roaming the woods, and tired out with play, We would lie on the grass, and watch the blue sky, And the clouds like white fleece drifting by, Then we would plan what we should do. When we became men. Of all the wonderful dreams, we dreamed of the future, Very few came true. One stands high with his country, And is rich and proud, The other two are sleeping, in their shrouds. And I am lonely, old and gray, I am longing for my home land far away. And the little old mother, I have not seen in years. Who always forgave her wayward boy. With tenderness and tears. I AM DEATH, THE KING I am Death, the king, I rule the earth The whole world fears me, I am not appeased by work or deeds, When I lift my hand a mother tender sweet and kind, Perhaps a father noble, fond and true, A little child, what care I, I am Death, the king. My subjects call me cruel, I am not always so, Sometimes I am very kind, The hurt, the maimed, the broken heart and brain. They often beg me to let them go, I do so, is not that kind? > There are men who fight me tooth and nail. To keep the mother for the babe. The lover for his maid, I smile and step back a pace or two Then lift my hand and they are gone, For I ani' Death, the king. I ride the earth, the sea, the sky Sometimes I touch men like a flash of light, Often I linger until they plead and call. Then I softly drop the dark curtain down And shut out the light of day and life. Am I not sometimes kind ? I am Death, the king. I do not always choose the old, forsaken and the poor, I take men from the highest in the land. Who hold fame and fortune in their hands I take the youth who dreams of power, The beautiful, the rich, the proud, I take them all, for I am Death, the king. I choose from emperors, kings and queens, I raise my hand and they obey. For they know I am mightier far than they, I am not appeased by words or deeds, I lift my hand, their thrones are empty. They are gone, for I am Death, the king. ABSENCE When the dawn paints the morning sky With pearl and rose. My heart calls to you dear across the deep. Have you forgotten our tender love of yester year, And your promise, dearest will you keep? Your silence cause me everything to fear, And the coldness of the coming years, I cannot meet. And dear, when I am gone beyond recall, will you Remember, when life to us was full and very sweet. Will regrets come like swiftly winging birds. To wound your once tender heart, I long ago saw my cherished hopes depart, My joys have vanished one by one. The golden day has turned to darkest night, for me For you are far away across the sea. THE ROAD OF LIFE There is a road that winds far away, To a land unknown, The rich, the poor, the young and the gray. All travel along this broad highway. Youth sees the wonderful sweetness, Of the early spring, Age seeks the glow of the sunset. At the end of Life's highway, Then peace and rest. There are many who walk the road of life, Whose hearts are filled with grief and care. For many the road is steep, with cold and snow. For others green valleys where the roses blow. Many follow the road to riotous scenes, Others to great endeavor and wonderful dreams, For many the pleasures, other's the pain. Some all the losses, other's the gain. All had believed the future, Would be filled with charm. If the road were sunny, bright and warm. There is a road that winds far away. To a land unknown, There the rich and the poor. The young and the gray. All travel along, Life's broad highway. AUTUMN ON THE RIVER The far away reaches of the river Lie in a golden mist along- the Green and sedgy banks. The wild ducks feed, the swallows fly Up and on through the sunlit air. Sometimes the reflection of a rosy cloud touches As with fairy fingers the shimmering waters As it flows sparkling and shining toward the sea. Evening comes, then the moon in her splendor Gilds as with silver, a path across the river. The alders make dark shadows on the water, I can hear the twittering of sleepy birds, and Autumn leaves are blown about by a vagrant wind. Across the river on the hills the lights flash and Sparkle like jewels. I DREAMED I HEARD YOUR VOICE Last night I dreamed I heard your voice As in those days so bright and fair, *Twas happiness beyond compare — I heard your voice. When I heard the words soft, sweet and low As I often did in the long ago, My heart was filled with joy, when I dreamed I heard your voice. I have wandered where the lotus bloom, In my endeavor to forget — If I could be the weaver of my dreams I would always dream of you. Perhaps a balm may fall upon my heart After years of yearning and of pain — *Tis all I wish that when twilight falls I will dream I hear your voice again. OLD LETTERS Whom has not laid old letters away To dream o'er the days When all time was May. With spring in The heart and light in the eyes, 'Twas heaven in those happy hours gone by. I opened a packet of letters today, Old letters from loved ones now gone Far away and forever. This is from one I loved best of all ; He wrote "Dear I love you." Then the birds sang in my heart And all time was May. I am coming to claim my bride, but alas ! He never returned, his ship went down None were saved. Now he sleeps mid the coral caves on the Ocean floor, and the surging waves Sing his requiem o'er and o'er. Sister dear, I want my mother very much tonight We meet the enemy tomorrow, O, that night of bitterness and pain, my loved brother I Never saw again. This from one who went away to that unknown Land and left my young heart desolate, Mother loves Her own dear girl, always be good, just and kind. When I read these letters penned by loving hands, They ease my pain and soothe my days, so I fold And put them away in the little box where my treasures lay. THE DOVE Oh ! lonely bird, I hear your soft sweet call, In the dim green aisles of your forest home, Has the wings of your babes borne them away From the great green woods to open day? When the shadows of evening begin to fall, It is then I hear your plaintive call. Oh ! lonely bird I hear your soft sweet note of mourning, On sunny tree tops where you await, For a flying wanderer, your beloved mate, I know he will hear your soft and tender call. MEMORIES Under the light of a thousand stars To the call of the violins we stood together you and I, And with love and hope our hearts beat high. The silken sheen of your rose pink gown, The charm of your youth, your beauty and grace, The lilt of the music, the sway of the dance, Have you forgotten, since your heart has grown cold? A chance word heard beneath the stars That I loved another, he could prove, he had no fear. When he like myself, had loved you for years. Oh, have faith dear one, and believe me true, For all my life I have loved none but you. And the wedding veil on your sunbright hair. You promised once for me you'd wear. But if you still wish to be free, Remember this, you will always be The dearest memory in this world to me. A RAINY EVENING 1 am sitting at the window of my little house It is dusk and has begun to rain. In the gloom my lilac bushes look like phantoms in great pain, They bend so before the wind. I see my gate that gleams so white Through the mist of the coming night, And the path that leads up to the door Planted with marguerites and daffodils By one who has sailed for a foreign shore. The storm has ceased, I look again, through my window pane And see little pools of water sparkling and shining Under the glow of the lights. I hear the murmur of voices, The sound of running feet, And the laughter of the children Shrill and sweet. SISTER MARIE Beyond the convent walls All day the battle raged, Many wounded men were brought within, For the Sisters' tender care. There was one fair sister, Sister Marie, So like an Easter Lily was she, Who heard with alarm The battle's din. She thought of one in the long ago, 'Twas no sin she said. She was told he was dead, so she prayed for him And served her Lord with sacred vows. 'Twas the hour before sunset. When the birds in the thicket Outside of the convent gates, called to their mates. When a young soldier brought a letter to Sister Marie. She read, "Come, do not deny, The day's light is going, I must see thy face, sweet maid of grace, Before I die, Raoul." At the altar rail she knelt and cried, O, Virgin Mother intercede for me To thy Divine Son, that he grant me This short space. As in a dream she heard the Virgin say, "Go, I will take thy place When the sisters come to pray. She went through the gate with flying feet, And the soldier led her to where he lay, She knelt by his side and took his cold hand, "This is heaven," he cried, "I see you once more My loved Delores." "No, Sister Marie," she gravely said, Her sweet face pale as a snow white rose. Then a soldier said, "Sister, he is dead." And great was the pain in her tender heart. As she crossed his hands upon his breast, "I will pray for his soul," she softly said Then pressed a kiss on his brow so cold, "He is dead, 'tis no sin," she said. Then went away with low bowed head. She reached the altar for the hour of prayer. And to this day. She believes her Lord heard her piteous prayer, Her heart is at rest and she serves her Lord with sacred \ vows. The soldier sleeps beyond the convent walls Where the zephyrs whisper. And the moonlight falls. LIFE, LOVE AND HOPE Life holds two jewels, they are Love and Hope, I love, and the sun shines over sea and land, If shadows come Love takes my hand, And leads me over sunny paths, To home and you. Loves hand maiden is star eyed Hope, For without her we oft would grope, Through Life's chill ways, Then should the road grow dim, I knock at her golden door and call, Then I walk midst the roses by the wall. With you. MY SWEET WHITE DOVE Soft as the down on a wee bird's breast, Are the curls on my baby's head, Like a rose pink petal is his tiny hand. My sweet white dove. Sweet as the scent of the jasmine flower, Wood violets are his eyes, And in my arms he finds his nest, My sweet white dove. THE STAR I saw tonight a great bright star, That blazed like a jewel from afar, I know 'twas held by an angel's hand, To light my way to that heavenly land. Poor and lonely I wait, at my Saviour's door, Where he will bid me come in and sorrow no more, So I will watch for the star. Held by an angel's hand. To light my way to that heavenly land. THE MOCKING BIRD The mocking bird is singing In my sunny southern home, I am standing in my garden Listening to his silvery tone. O Mocking Bird, O Melody. The glitter of the moonbeams On the flowers and the trees, The fragrance of the Jasmine Is wafted on the breeze. O Mocking Bird, O Melody. Springtime long ago has left My heart, and now alas I mourn, For the one I loved sleeps on the hill And I am left to roam. O Mocking Bird, O Melody. THE PRAIRIE The evening has come and the sun has gone down to his bed of gold and rose. The amethyst dusk enfolds us all, We hear the grass rustle and the night birds call, On the Prairie. The night wind softly kisses our cheek, as we sit beneath the stars, And the dew gemmed flowers on the cactus gleam In the morning. On the Prairie. MARY MAGDALENE In a city of olden times, A beauteous maiden forgot, and fell, Many elders sought our Lord Her many crimes to /tell. But He wrote their sins in the yellow sand, Affrighted, they fled. They could understand their Lord could read Their hearts. She washed with her tears her dear Lord's feet. And dried them with her golden hair. She begged o'er and o'er, "Lord, forgive, forgive," He blessed her then said, "Go, sin no more." BETHLEHEM In far off Judea, in a manger throne An adoring mother first beheld her Child. The Wise Men followed the beckoning star, Over lonely plains and mountains wild. After many days they entered the hallowed ways To lay their gifts before this Son, their Lord and Savior of all men. They brought incense and spices sweet, And lambskins to shield Him from all cold Then worshipped at His sacred feet. But in that dim and holy place They could not see the path that led up to the cross, Nor the crown of thorns placed upon His head. THE PARTING Like bright jewels on a silver string The stars come out in the dark blue sky, A shadow falls across my heart, For the time has come to say goodbye. I know, love, you are sorely distressed. Let me lay my head on your tender breast So when I meet with Death's dire sting It will be like the touch of an angel's wing. Will you meet me, dear one, on that other shore Where in Elysian fields we oft shall roam. And I shall wait, dear, at the open gate. To welcome you to my Father's home. YOU, WHOM I LOVE May fortune touch with her golden wand, You, whom I love. And keep you from all life's despairs, You, whom I love. May the sky be blue with the sun shining through, On you, whom I love, And no shadowy paths for your wandering feet, You, whom I love. You whom my heart loves tender and true And I am calling dear one for you, With sun shining paths for your wandering feet, You, whom I love. AT EVENTIDE At eventide when the fire burns low, I see loved faces come and go, And my heart near breaks at eventide When the fire bums low. I see a lad with sunny hair Who sleeps on the fields of France so fair, The boy of my love and of my youth At eventide when the fire burns low. He wrote, "Dear mother, you must not grieve, For in spirit I am always with you." And this I see in the bright red glow. And my heart near breaks at eventide when the fire bums low. INDIAN SUMMER Over the far purple hills a soft mist is falling, Brown, orange and green on the trees, The faint sound of bells comes up from the valley, And the tang of smoke is borne on the breeze. Down in the meadow the cattle are lowing The day's door is closing and chill is the breeze, Still far away I can see, Brown, orange and green on the trees. WILD GEESE O, ye birds of dark and lowering skies, Gray harbingers of cold and storm. Ye wing the height of aerial blue Where the hunter can do no harm, Like a great black ribbon you go up and on, And then in battle array, Still up and up, until near the clouds, You then blend in with the gray. CARMILITA Adios, Carmilita, my tender maiden of sunny Spain, Our country calls, I must away, When the birds are singing in the Myrtle groves, I will return, my Carmilita, adios. Adios, my Carmilita, sweet one of my boyhood's dreams, Then, underneath your lattice window, On which the moonlight brightly beams. Our love we then will whisper, my sweet rose, CarmiHta, adios. IN TEXAS Oh land of plenty to he who wills, Where o'er flower gemmed plains, the cattle roam, Where there are sun kissed hills under azure skies, In Texas. Where the balmy air from off the sea Brings the scent of flowers and hum of bees to me, Where the roses drowse in the moonlight fair. In Texas. In cotton fields of snowy white, the happy darkies come and go, When the sun goes down in his crimson light Their work is done, they sing soft, sweet and low, In Texas. \ LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 015 937 230 3