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 COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT 
 
CALIFORNIA 
 
 AND 
 
 OTHER POEMS 
 
 By 
 MARY PEARLE 
 
 San Francisco 
 
 Press of The James H. Barry Co. 
 
 1915 
 
THE CHILDREN'S CHRISTMAS 
 
 Christmas chimes ring out with gladness, 
 Christmas cheer dispels earth's sadness, 
 Christmas hearts send forth glad greeting, 
 Christmas hands clasp warm at meeting. 
 
 Happy thoughts in all minds springing, 
 Happy voices gaily singing, iT?) ^ ' 
 
 Happy smiles on beaming faces, ^(r\^ A <3L 
 Happy scenes in market places. \ ^ W "^ 
 
 Jolly firesides, guileless pleasures, \^ ^. \ 
 
 Jolly friendship, token treasures, \^ \ A ^= " 
 
 Jolly babies, full of laughter, \ ^ 
 
 Jolly times, before and after. 
 
 Santa Claus is surely coming, 
 Santa Claus his gay song humming, 
 Santa Claus by reindeer borne. 
 O'er the hills on Christmas morn. 
 
 Stockings hung in countless rows, 
 Baby stockings out at toes; 
 Restless heads keep, all the night, 
 Popping up from pillows white — 
 
 Wondering if Santa came; 
 Had the reindeer all got lame 
 O'er the Rocky Mountains toiling 
 Hard, to keep the toys from spoiling? 
 
 Christmas chimes ring out the story 
 Of the King of grace and glory, 
 Of His star the wise men guiding 
 To the Babe pure and confiding. 
 
 Would our hearts were childlike holy 
 And our lives more meek and lowly; 
 Full of tenderness and love 
 Like the Christ Child from above. 
 
 Massassaga Point. 
 
 My Dear Mrs. Pearle: — ^ '<• 
 
 Verily your "Christmas Chimes ring out with gladness," 
 in a happy, silvery tone and pleasing measure, telling the 
 old, old, sweet story. The story I will read to-morrow. 
 
 Wishing you and your dear ones many happy returns of 
 the season, I am, yours very sincerely, 
 
 T. . ^. 1QQO CALISTA I. CZARA. 
 
 December 23, 1892. 
 
 DEC 20 1915 
 
 ©GI,A418118 
 
COPYRIGHT 
 
 1915 
 
 By MARY PEARLB 
 
CALIFORNIA. 
 
 Often in the quiet gloaming 
 
 Of a balmy sunny day, 
 Viewing the majestic beauty 
 
 Of the green hills far away, 
 To my soul, I voice, in rapture 
 
 "There is charm everywhere. 
 Truly 'tis the land of Promise 
 
 California! rich and fair." 
 
 Meditating 'mid thy flowers, 
 
 Smiling to the suncrowned sky 
 Comes a flood of inspiration — 
 
 Thoughts of things that cannot die. 
 O'er my soul thy spell alluring 
 
 Casts the magic of desire, 
 For I am part of California 
 
 And together we aspire. 
 
 California ! 'Neath the shadow 
 
 Of thy mountains green and gray, 
 In the hazy mellow moonlight. 
 
 Fancy free, I often stray 
 To a cottage in the highlands. 
 
 Covered with the frozen snow, 
 Where we dream of California — 
 
 In the happy long ago. 
 
 We, the children of the ages, 
 Schooled in European lore, 
 
 Turned from the ancient pages 
 To a later, fairer, shore, 
 
4 California and Other Poems 
 
 Leaving frost and snow behind us, 
 Moving to a hope sublime, 
 
 Risking all for California 
 And its fascinating clime. 
 
 Native Sons ! and Native Daughters 
 
 Of the glorious Golden West, 
 Yours, indeed a sacred birthright 
 
 To the fairest land and best. 
 But, with loyal, loving kindness 
 
 Note the strangers at your gate, 
 Welcome them to California 
 
 Although born, alas ! too late. 
 
 California, highly favored 
 
 Above ancient Greece and Rome, 
 Open wide thy golden portals 
 
 That the strangers may find home. 
 Give the Brotherhood of Nations 
 
 Entertainment for the night. 
 When the World's Exposition 
 
 And its glory loom in sight! 
 
 California! God's own country, 
 
 Proudly scorn each evil thing, 
 Let the light of Sinai's mountain 
 
 Guiding rays around you fling. 
 Righteousness exalts thy banners, 
 
 Queen of every other state, 
 Therefore be your watchword ever 
 
 "The good alone are great." 
 
California and Other Poems 
 
 ^'BEAUTY MADE THE WORLD." 
 
 Emerson. 
 
 This world is beautiful with shine and shade 
 E'en though its roses droop and fade, 
 
 And its lilies do not stay. 
 There is freshness on the summer hills, 
 A thrill of rapture in the rippling rills 
 
 Where little minnows play. 
 
 The sea is fair with calm and billow 
 Where aching heads oft find a pillow 
 
 So wonderfully soft; 
 O ! give me a nook by the wild, free sea 
 Where the white foam dashes a kiss to me 
 
 As the sailors go aloft ! 
 
 And the woods ! O, the woods are fair to see, 
 Where the wild birds chant sweet melody, 
 
 Gay songs of faith and love. 
 O, give me a seat 'neath the forest tree, 
 With my dearest friend in converse with me, 
 
 And the soft blue clouds above. 
 
 They tell me of heavenly lands more bright. 
 Where there shall never more be night. 
 
 And suns shall never set. 
 Yet methinks I should miss the moonlight soft 
 And the gentle touch of a hand that oft 
 
 My own in the pale light met. 
 
6 California and Other Poems 
 
 And that cottage home 'neath the old oak tree, 
 Pictured so plain in memory, 
 
 My fancy still enthralls. 
 For I shall never on this earthly plane 
 Find the contentment and love again 
 
 I found within its walls. 
 
 Blame me not, if I call earth good 
 Though heaven may suit a sadder mood. 
 
 To-day I am content 
 To bask in the beauty God has given, 
 Until in the better land of heaven 
 
 My future life is spent. 
 
 And oft at eve, when the sun is low, 
 
 I look toward the west, where the sky, aglow 
 
 With his departing kiss. 
 Mirrors that Paradise far away, 
 While I wonder if Celestial day 
 
 Can be more fair than this. 
 
 MEMORIAL POEM. 
 
 The morn has dawned upon the night of sorrow, 
 For which we prayed a little while ago ; 
 
 And he has entered on that bright to-morrow, 
 Triumphant over death and pain and woe. 
 
 Nearer, My God, to Thee, in anguish 
 
 He prayed in agony of mortal pain ; 
 "Thy will be done," although the body languish, 
 
 He softly murmured o'er and o'er again. 
 
California and Other Poems 7 
 
 He was a hero. For his country's glory, 
 
 He risked his life, when in his youthful prime; 
 
 And dark the blot upon that country's story, 
 Left by the dastardly assassin's crime. 
 
 In perfect safety oft through din of battle, 
 He moved, while bullets flew around like rain ; 
 
 Bearing dispatches 'neath the cannon's rattle, 
 To his commander, o'er beleaguered plain. 
 
 And yet, strange fate ! At zenith of his power, 
 Upon the day named for him at the feast ; 
 
 He fell a martyr, in the festive hour — 
 The nation's ruler and the people's guest. 
 
 Oh ! watchman, tell us from thy clearer vision. 
 What of the night? Its gloom is o'er us still; 
 
 Is there no message from the land Elysian, 
 Urging submission to Jehovah's will? 
 
 Must anarchy enthrall our souls with terror. 
 In a land redeemed by patriotic blood? 
 
 How can we best eradicate all error. 
 
 And become strong in Christian brotherhood? 
 
 ;|: ^; ;|; >i; ;1j 
 
 Oh, weary watchman, on the walls of Zion; 
 
 Proclaim the Gospel of a purer creed ; 
 With God's good laws for nations to rely on — 
 
 There is no room for anarchy or greed. 
 
 *'Thy will be done," above earth's dread commotion, 
 ''Nearer, my God, to Thee," at any cost; 
 
 Till in the calm of the eternal ocean, 
 The tears of time shall be forever lost. 
 
California and Other Poems 
 
 THE SONG. 
 
 Softly and sweetly each glad note 
 
 Fell on my raptured ear, 
 As minor chords their burdens float 
 
 Upon the morning air. 
 I stood and listened. Silent tears 
 
 Welled up into my eyes; 
 And for the moment life appears 
 
 A breath of Paradise. 
 
 Louder still the notes flow on, 
 
 Like triumph over pain. 
 My soul soars on the wings of song 
 
 Up to a higher plain. 
 The anguish of my heart is healed, 
 
 The wrongs of time forgot. 
 The word unkind forever sealed 
 
 Upon that hallowed spot. 
 
 I looked around. Not far or high 
 
 The singer and his art. 
 Within a thicket I espy 
 
 The lute that touched my heart. 
 A wounded lark, within the brake 
 
 Imprisoned and in pain, 
 Sang on through bitterest care and ache 
 
 This beautiful refrain : 
 
 "Hope on ! hope on ! relief is near. 
 
 Sing on ! the end is nigh. 
 Love on ! for love casts out the fear 
 
 That cowards have to die ! 
 
California and Other Poems 
 
 Work on ! The morn is bright and fair 
 
 And Hfe is sweet at noon. 
 But night is ever drawing near 
 
 And darkness comes too soon." 
 
 IN MEMORIAM. 
 F. M. Milne— April 21, 1910. 
 
 Calmly she sleeps in the arms eternal, 
 After the burden and heat of the day. 
 
 Breathing the odor of flowers ever vernal 
 In the beautiful city over the way. 
 
 She wrote of sweet rest and of heavenly beauty; 
 
 She told us of God's tender pity and care. 
 Her incentive to faithful performance of duty 
 
 Was faith in the beautiful home over there. 
 
 Her smile was a reflex of that inward glory; 
 
 It beamed like the sun on the rich and the poor. 
 Her life illustrated the sweet, tender story 
 
 Of hope and redemption and pardon secure. 
 
 How calmly she sleeps 'mid the lilies and roses, 
 Embalmed in the shrine of our tenderest love. 
 
 Saying from the glory in which she reposes, 
 "Set your affections upon things above." 
 
 Sadly and sorely our city will miss her 
 Culture, her talent, her influence sweet, 
 
 'Twas the angel of life and of love that did kiss her 
 And woo her away to ideals more sweet. 
 
lo California and Other Poems 
 
 INDEPENDENCE DAY, 1913. 
 
 The years roll on : time's chariot dashing 
 
 To earth the noble and the good. 
 While from Eternity this truth is flashing: 
 
 Death cannot sever bonds of brotherhood 
 
 And Freedom's laws stand written on Creation, 
 In language plain that all may understand 
 
 The crowning glory of this favored nation, 
 Where Independence waves its banner grand, 
 
 Beneath which the stranger of every nation 
 Finds hearty welcome, shelter and employ; 
 
 No matter what his color, creed, or station, 
 America would crown his life with joy. 
 
 And molding it to the culture of the ages. 
 Leaving the blinding desert sands behind. 
 
 Opening inspiration's golden pages 
 
 To educate the slave idea from the mind. 
 
 Adopting him into a kingdom newly born 
 Where every man may rule by right divine. 
 
 Conquering wrong and laughing graft to scorn, 
 
 Marching toward Progress along straighter lines. 
 
 Great Father of the universe, our praises 
 Ascend to-day for mercies of the past; 
 
 Preserve to us the virtue that thus raises. 
 Our Nation to honors that forever last. 
 
California and Other Poems 1 1 
 
 A MUTE APPEAL. 
 
 In mute appeal their unsealed eyes look upward 
 
 Into the azure that obscures God's throne ; 
 "We fought for liberty, fought nobly and fell bravely 
 
 Defending what thou gavest us to own. 
 Appealing to the clemency of nations, 
 
 We fought like heroes, yet like dogs we lie 
 Unburied. How invincible the armor 
 
 Death's angel folds around the brave who die." 
 
 *Xet the dead bury their dead," though sin and sor- 
 row 
 
 Impede discipleship with Christ, the good ; 
 Retributive justice on the dawning morrow 
 
 Demands respect for human brotherhood. 
 ''Blest are the Merciful," thus taught the Master, 
 
 In that immortal Sermon on the Mount, 
 Oh, Kitchener, by whate'er creeds you name Him, 
 
 You hold His precepts of but small account. 
 
 Hearken, the nations cry, ''For shame. Old England ; 
 
 Call off thy sleuth-hounds and thy cruel war, 
 Or men will say, 'The Lord of Hosts is sleeping, 
 
 Thus to permit thy cruelties so far.' 
 Thou art behind the Turk in tender mercy, 
 
 Behind the savage in thy thirst for blood. 
 May God defend the weak and the oppressed 
 
 From English mammon. Israel's God is good." 
 
12 California and Other Poems 
 
 Wlien Father Time records within his pages 
 
 The thrilling story of the Transvaal war, 
 To echo down the corridors of ages, 
 
 Denouncing England as a fallen star; 
 Inscribed in blood upon the hearts of nations 
 
 Shall live those words by cruel Kitchener said : 
 "Not one moment," when the Boers entreated 
 
 A little time to bury their brave dead. 
 
 And Ireland, too, in scorn shall disclaim him, 
 
 No son of Erin could have stooped so low 
 As to forget the etiquette of nations. 
 
 Denying burial to a fallen foe. 
 God's Universe is looking on in wonder, 
 
 To see the Boers acquit themselves like men; 
 As Samson, they shall rend their cords asunder, 
 
 In life or death they shall be free again. 
 
 ONE LITTLE WORD. 
 
 Leave it unsaid, if hate inspire 
 Thy mood, to set thy tongue on fire. 
 Thou art not sane, when anger rules 
 It dwelleth in the breast of fools. 
 
 One little word in anger spoken 
 Has many a tender heartstring broken. 
 The deed or word we misconstrue 
 ATay have been pure as morning dew\ 
 
California and Other Poems 13 
 
 'Tis always best, to give thy friend 
 A chance, the little breach to mend, 
 For friendship is a rosebud sweet 
 You cannot trample under feet. 
 
 But place within your choicest vase 
 To listen to your softest phrase ; 
 Till it expands into full flower 
 And by its love proclaim its power. 
 
 For love the universe controls, 
 And calms the wrath of human souls. 
 Saying "peace, be still," athwart the waves 
 That roll above unnumbered graves. 
 
 Life is so short; the end so near. 
 The calm, dead face that once was dear 
 Answers not back one little word, 
 Proclaim a truce and sheathe thy sword. 
 
 For if, indeed, the end had come 
 And thy dear friend had journeyed home, 
 That harsh word would remain unsaid, 
 And loving words be framed instead. 
 
14 California and Other Poems 
 
 LOVE SEEKETH NOT ITS OWN. 
 
 The train slowed up, at Castlebar 
 
 I heard the "all aboard !" 
 But there remained one passenger 
 
 Unmindful of the word. 
 A maiden, young and beautiful 
 
 As Erin's daughters, proud, 
 Stood with her arms circling 
 
 Her mother, wailing loud. 
 
 **Dieu lin ! Dieu lin a lanna 
 
 Why do you go away 
 Till ye see yer poor old mother 
 
 Laid in the church yard clay?" 
 At last, with haste she pressed 
 
 Into the daughter's hand, 
 A little piece of shining gold, 
 
 With heroism grand. 
 
 And when, at length the weeping maid 
 
 Could tear herself apart, 
 With one loud sob she took her seat 
 
 Lonely and sore at heart. 
 Sobbing, aloud, "Ach, mother 
 
 Norah will come again 
 An' take you to America, 
 
 An' comfort all yer pain." 
 
 She paused and looked up shyly 
 
 As we drew near Athlone, 
 And seemed at last to realize 
 
 That she was not alone. 
 
California and Other Poems i^ 
 
 I, too, she saw, was weeping, 
 
 For sympathy is kind, 
 And had I not that morning 
 
 Left loving ones behind? 
 
 She came, and sat beside me. 
 
 I took her hand in mine; 
 For one small touch of nature 
 
 Breaks the strong social line. 
 "And Norah you are going 
 
 To leave the dear old sod. 
 My little sister, do you go 
 
 In company with God?" 
 
 She gazed at me, as gentle deer. 
 
 When all the strife is o'er 
 And the sacrifice completed 
 
 To be recalled no more. 
 Then softly, with the accent 
 
 Of Erin's toiling poor, 
 She smiled a rainbow smile 
 
 And said 'Til trust in God for sure." 
 
 ''But ochone alannah ! 
 
 My mother ochone gave me all 
 The bit of money that she had 
 
 To buy things in the Fall. 
 An', now ye know I'm goin' 
 
 To where there's bread, galore, 
 Now won't you take an' send her back 
 
 This piece of gold, Asthore? 
 
i6 California and Other Poems 
 
 "You'll stop in Dublin city. 
 
 'Tis an easy thing to do. 
 Just put it in a letter, 
 
 An' write a line or two 
 To say how Norah couldn't 
 
 Take her little bit of gold 
 To where there is great plenty 
 
 Of everything, I'm told." 
 
 I could not take the money, 
 
 But I wrote a letter kind, 
 To the address she gave me 
 
 Her mother's home to find, 
 And often since, when selfishness 
 
 Obstructs the King's high road 
 I think of little Norah 
 
 And her faith in man and God. 
 
 WASHINGTON'S DAY. 
 
 Ring out! ring gladly Liberty Bell, 
 And loudly to the Nation tell 
 
 The story of to-day ; 
 That Washington may honored be, 
 Who for perpetual liberty 
 
 So bravely cleared the way. 
 
 Ring out proudly old Liberty Bell; 
 From shore to shore let glad tones swell 
 In praise of dauntless truth; 
 
California and Other Poems 17 
 
 For Washington by light Divine, 
 'Twixt vice and virtue drew the line 
 To shield the Nation's youth. 
 
 Ring out boldly Liberty Bell, 
 And ask the people is it well 
 
 To yield on every hand 
 A little here and a little there, 
 Of principles he bought so dear 
 
 First ruler of the land? 
 
 Ring out ! ring out a merry peal 
 That patriotic men may feel 
 
 How wrong it is to sleep 
 While wolves invade the pasture fold 
 And of the little lambs take hold 
 
 While they no vigil keep. 
 
 Ring out glad bells ! ring clear and strong 
 That every foe who means us wrong 
 
 May timely warning take ; 
 Washington's memory cannot die. 
 His country's flag still waves on high, 
 
 The brave are wide awake. 
 
 Oh ! may the heroes' mantle fall 
 Upon his children, one and all. 
 
 Until our land is free 
 From every vile oppressive foe 
 That would our liberty lay low 
 
 And spoil our fair country. 
 
i8 California and Other Poems 
 
 THE GOLDEN ROD. 
 
 O, Golden Rod ! wild Golden Rod, 
 
 That roams on dale and down ; 
 Unused to rules of fashion, 
 
 Untaught in laws of town. 
 Do you know" how much I love you, 
 
 In your beauty wild and free? 
 Or do you smile on everyone, 
 
 As you have smiled on me? 
 
 O, Golden Rod ! sweet Golden Rod ! 
 
 Pray tell me if you care; 
 That you hold my heart entangled, 
 
 Within your golden hair? 
 Disown your low-born kindred, 
 
 And be my very own, 
 And reign in royal splendor, 
 
 Upon a nation's throne. 
 
 Then, proudly answered Golden Rod : 
 
 ''Sir Knight, I cannot go. 
 My mission is God-given, 
 
 For I am His, you know. 
 He placed me by the wayside, 
 
 To smile upon the poor, 
 And help the heavy-laden rich, 
 
 Life's burden to endure. 
 
 *T go into the sanctuary. 
 
 In my quiet, simple dress; 
 Where rich and poor behold me 
 
 With gracious tenderness. 
 
California and Other Poems 19 
 
 I tell them the sweet story 
 
 That never can grow stale; 
 About the Rose of Sharon, 
 
 And Lily of the Vale. 
 
 '*I cannot be exclusive, 
 
 I want to live for all ; 
 And pomp of courts might lure me 
 
 From innocence to fall. 
 And these would sorely miss me — 
 
 My neighbors, kind and true; 
 The poor have got so little, 
 
 They make the more ado. 
 
 "And one, dear, sturdy Scotchman, 
 
 Who lives across the way; 
 For me has pleasant greeting, 
 
 And tender words to say. 
 Though roughly dressed, in homespun, 
 
 His heart is true as steel, 
 And well I know he loves me, 
 
 And love can all wounds heal. 
 
 ''Sir Knight, a statelier flower. 
 
 Best suits your halls of pride; 
 A daughter of the people, 
 
 Should with her own abide ; 
 Since, 'tis not wealth or splendor. 
 
 That satisfy the heart; 
 We can exalt each station, 
 
 By acting well our part." 
 
20 California and Other Poems 
 
 ERIE CENTENNIAL POEM. 
 
 Fair city by the waters, 
 
 Accept the homage due 
 Thee from thy sons and daughters, 
 
 Who, with devotion true, 
 Would celebrate with gladness 
 
 Thy proud centennial day. 
 Dispelling gloom and sadness 
 
 From sweet Lake Erie Bay. 
 
 Green city by the waters, 
 
 Thou art a queen by right, 
 In whom thy loyal subjects 
 
 Take comfort and delight; 
 God prosper thee forever, 
 
 Dear city by the bay. 
 And may the all-wise Giver 
 
 Be bountiful to-day, 
 
 And smile with benediction 
 
 Upon thy jewels fine, 
 'Mid which thy happy children 
 
 Pre-eminently shine, 
 Bright gems within thy coronet 
 
 Of unsurpassing worth. 
 While joyfully they hail thee, 
 
 The city of their birth. 
 
 Till thy churches gleam like pearls 
 
 Upon the classic head. 
 And from the big red schoolhousf 
 
 Our country's colors spread, 
 
California and Other Poems 21 
 
 Proclaiming to the nations 
 
 That Erie stands for right, 
 And wisely guards her birthright 
 
 Of jewels rich and bright. 
 
 Within thy gates, grand city, 
 
 The stranger finds employ. 
 And he who craved for pity 
 
 Is crowned with hope and joy. 
 Shine on ! shine on. Gem City ! 
 
 To-day let there be light 
 Reflected from one hundred lamps 
 
 Replenished, trimmed and bright, 
 
 That from each lordly spire 
 
 And institution grand. 
 In characters of fire 
 
 Our country's watchwords stand ; 
 Till virtue and equality 
 
 Diffuse our spirits through, 
 And God's own love presides above 
 
 The things we say and do. 
 
 For righteousness exalteth 
 
 Unto the hills of God, 
 The city of our fathers 
 
 Who sleep beneath the sod. 
 God grant us Christian brotherhood 
 
 On this centennial day. 
 And may the light of life illume 
 
 Our city by the bay. 
 
22 California and Other Poems 
 
 JUNE. 
 
 June is the month of roses, 
 
 The fairest of the year, 
 Its hiring Hght reposes 
 
 On beauty everywhere; 
 Beside the hedge rows peeping 
 
 Wild flowers glance around 
 A timid vigil keeping, 
 
 Upon the garden ground. 
 
 Like outcasts, they aspire 
 
 To elegance and grace. 
 If God had placed them higher 
 
 And given them the place 
 Of roses in the garden, 
 
 Or lilies in the field, 
 They would delight their warden 
 
 By beauty and rich yield. 
 
 Dear little wayside flower, 
 
 Dear soul on the low grade, 
 Not yours constructive power: 
 
 You are what you are made. 
 And each within its place is best, 
 
 For beauty and for worth. 
 Be just, and leave to God the rest, 
 
 The Author of your birth. 
 
 And being just as true and good, 
 
 Your beauty is divine ; 
 You are of the grand brotherhood 
 
 That everywhere must shine. 
 
California and Other Poems 23 
 
 The violet by the wayside 
 
 Is sister to the rose, 
 Although its modesty doth hide 
 
 What its perfumes disclose. 
 
 Oh ! Month of rose and violet 
 
 Oh ! Month of beauty rare, 
 Of fairy gems in emerald set — 
 
 Wide scattered everywhere. 
 Teach us contentment in our lot 
 
 Where'er that lot may be, 
 And grant the grace that fadeth not 
 . Through all Eternity. 
 
 LINES ON LOUGH MASK, IRELAND. 
 
 Lough Mask, thy beauties free and wild 
 Have soothed my soul and oft beguiled 
 
 My thoughts from earthly care. 
 I love the rocks thy wavelets kiss, 
 Thy solitude is sweet. 'Twere bliss 
 
 To dwell forever here. 
 
 I love to wander on thy shore. 
 Thy smiling calm, thy frowning roar. 
 
 Alternately I've seen. 
 Have marked thy growing rage expand 
 Till shook with fear the trees that stand 
 
 Around, like slaves, I ween. 
 
24 California and Other Poems 
 
 And must I leave thee, lovely spot? 
 And shall thy beauties be forgot? 
 
 Shall no admiring eye 
 Record thy charms in glov^ang rhyme 
 Or paint thy loveliness sublime, — 
 
 Thy modest grace descry? 
 
 Strangers may wander on thy shore, 
 Exclaim, ''How lovely," nothing more, 
 
 And wander gayly on ; 
 While the loved ones I leave behind 
 To thee shall off recall my mind 
 
 When I am sad and lone. 
 
 Farewell ! farewell, enchanted spot, 
 Adieu loved ones, since 'tis my lot 
 
 To tread life's shady side ; 
 I'll bear this picture true and kind 
 Of dearest friends I leave behind, 
 
 By Lough Mask's changing tide. 
 
 And hope when time shall be no more 
 Upon a brighter, happier shore 
 
 My absent ones and I, 
 May meet, in happiness again. 
 And never feel the parting pain. 
 
 Where God all tears doth dry. 
 
 And, maybe, from that heaven afar 
 Beyond the brightest, highest star 
 
 We may look down from, bliss. 
 Upon Lough Mask's wild beauties fair 
 Exclaiming fondly, ''not e'en here, 
 
 Is fairer scene than this." 
 
California and Other Poems 25 
 
 DECORATION DAY. 
 
 Sweet eyes, that look no more in mine, 
 To-day, behold the Face Divine, 
 
 And intercede for me; 
 That I may too thy calm rest share, 
 Devoid of every earthly care. 
 That troubles transient-dwellers here, 
 
 With deep anxiety. 
 
 Sweet lips, forever sealed as though 
 To guard the secrets none may know, 
 
 I would breast Jordan's wave 
 To kiss them, only once again, 
 Beyond this atmosphere of pain, 
 Where Love and Loyalty are vain 
 
 To battle with the grave. 
 
 Dear folded hands, so lily white, 
 
 That wrought for me some new delight 
 
 Each day throughout the year. 
 How much I miss their touches kind. 
 That did my wounded spirit bind, 
 And for my grief sweet solace find 
 
 And gently dry each tear. 
 
 Dear light of life, forever fled, 
 
 How can I live since thou art dead, 
 
 My precious one, so wise? 
 To-day I bow my head, and think 
 I see beyond the grave's sad brink 
 A gleam of Love's unbroken link, 
 
 Anchored in Paradise, 
 
26 California and Other Poems 
 
 And formed of flowers pure and white 
 That angels move on with delight, 
 
 Moving their earthward way. 
 My darling, can you not come too, 
 And touch me, as you used to do, 
 Leading me gently on with you 
 
 Into the Light of Day? 
 
 EQUAL RIGHTS. 
 
 Go out to the highways and gather them in, 
 Frail children of sorrow, of shame and of sin, 
 They are easily found in the slums of the town — 
 Go out; it is easy to run the poor down. 
 
 Build them places of refuge, but never a home, 
 They have left that behind them w^hatever may come. 
 Left father and mother, left sister and friend 
 For some black-hearted villain who swore to defend. 
 
 He led them astray in their beauty and bloom, 
 Till the wages of sin paved the road to the tomb ; 
 Can men stoop to this who have mothers and wives, 
 And sisters all leading respectable lives? 
 
 Go, first, where society glitters and glares — 
 
 To our churches and club rooms, our markets and 
 
 fairs. 
 Seek out the vile monsters, tear ofif their disguise, 
 And teach our maidens the way to be wise 
 
California and Other Poems 27 
 
 Reform the homes, make them decent and clean ; 
 Admonish all parents to shun what is mean, 
 Let landlords who thrive upon shame and disgrace, 
 Go kneel in the dust and in fear hide each face. 
 
 Away with your houses of refuge from sin ! 
 Let the light of God's Gospel, with healing pour in, 
 To show the oppressors of those who are poor. 
 The wrongs that their victims must often endure. 
 
 Let the children of sorrow, of want and of care. 
 
 Enjoy the bright world, created so fair; 
 
 God's merciful love is a fathomless store, 
 
 He pardons transgression; but "Go sin no more." 
 
 Of if you must gather the vile in one den, 
 Begin with society women and men ; 
 Weed out the vile vipers that desecrate home, 
 And pity poor maidens lured on to their doom. 
 
 Let men to God's altar lead beauty and youth, 
 To build happy homes on the framework of truth. 
 That our sons and our daughters like cedars may 
 
 grow ; 
 For a nation must reap as a nation doth sow. 
 
 'Tis the union of honesty, purity, worth, 
 
 That form the fairest ideals on earth. 
 
 And since love is cement to bind all into one, 
 
 Let us live in God's light and be pure as the sun. 
 
California and Other Poems 
 
 'THE TIME OF THE SINGING OF THE BIRDS 
 IS COME." 
 
 To-day I heard a robin sing 
 
 A song of welcome to the spring 
 
 That made me glad. 
 Past were the winter's cold and gloom; 
 The stone was rolled back from the tomb 
 
 Where I knelt sad. 
 
 Pale flowerets smiling at my feet 
 Spoke to me low, in accents sweet — 
 
 ''We bide our day. 
 Some brightness cheers the lot of all, 
 When He who marks the sparrow's fall 
 
 Smiles care away." 
 
 The peach-tree basking in fair noon 
 Lisped timidly, "Trust not too soon, 
 
 For hope deferred 
 Brings blighting anguish when in vain 
 We writhe in misery and pain — 
 
 Our prayer unheard." 
 
 Yet still, the robin sang a gay, 
 Melodious song, across the way. 
 
 So clear and sweet : 
 ''Hope on ! hope on !" it seemed to plead 
 "Fear not while Providence doth lead 
 
 Homeward thy feet." 
 
California and Other Poems 29 
 
 **Ah me !" I thought, "could mortals wait 
 In patient hope at mercy's gate, 
 
 How rich the boon — 
 Awaiting all in God's good time 
 When dawns eternal spring sublime 
 
 O'er sorrows flown." 
 
 Then my glad heart sent forth this cry, 
 'Xord, let thy love in me not die 
 
 In time's dread chill ; 
 But still attune my soul to praise 
 Thy name through bright or gloomy days, 
 
 For good and ill." 
 
 WAR— 1915. 
 
 "The war is on," the people say — 
 To think it comes in our day! 
 
 To make such mighty rattle. 
 If I were only twenty-one 
 You bet I'd bear a sword and gun 
 
 Into the thick of battle ! 
 
 But mother, she has begged me so; 
 I cannot break her heart and go, 
 
 Although Mars keeps on calling: 
 **Come, be a soldier brave and true, 
 Your country's honor calls for you 
 
 Though mother's tears are falling." 
 
30 California and Other Poems 
 
 My father spoke to this effect: 
 ''You cannot your own course elect, 
 
 And war is so uncertain ! 
 I fought the Spanish war, you know, 
 And understand how matters go, 
 
 Behind the army curtain. 
 
 ''Now, hear from Dad a thing or two: 
 The Mexicans don't bother you, 
 
 If you let them alone. 
 We robbed them of their native land 
 And made them feel our heavy hand, 
 
 And War makes poor atone. 
 
 "Poor, starved, half-naked and oppressed, 
 Their wrongs should, rather, be redressed 
 
 Than aggravated still ; 
 What can the slave of Power do 
 Hear and obey the favored few 
 
 Or die, just as they will ! 
 
 "My son, war is a fearful thing; 
 'Tis death and hell upon the wing, 
 
 Pestilence in the wake. 
 How small a matter brings it on ! 
 'Salute the flag,' it must be done, 
 
 'Tis war and no mistake. 
 
 " 'Salute the Cross.' Let all bow down. 
 The Prince of Peace claims first renown, 
 
 Let little insults go. 
 ■ The Stars and Stripes can well afford 
 
 To yield to Christ, risen Lord, 
 
 Till peace and plenty flow." 
 
California and Other Poems 31 
 
 CLOTILDE'S CHRISTMAS 
 
 A LEGEND OF RUSSIA 
 
 It was Christmas in Odessa, 
 
 With its glitter and its glare. 
 There were sounds of joyous greetings 
 
 Borne on the frosty air. 
 Wealthy homes ablaze with splendor, 
 
 Hung green garlands o'er the door; 
 And the echoes of the season 
 
 Reached the hovels of the poor. 
 
 In a dreary little cabin, 
 
 Where the rush light burned low 
 On a rickety old table, 
 
 Clotilde Lyngolff sat to sew. 
 O'er the table hung a picture — 
 
 Christ Child, manger, ox and stall — 
 Before which the maiden's brother 
 
 Prayed, ''Our Father bless us all." 
 
 "Good-night, sister, angels guard thee," 
 
 And he kissed her pallid brow. 
 'Tut away that weary sewing — 
 
 It is almost morning now." 
 But he knew not. idle dreamer. 
 
 As he sought his little bed, 
 That the garment must be finished, 
 
 To procure him daily bread. 
 
32 California and Other Poems 
 
 When alone, Clotilde looked upward 
 
 To the picture on the wall; 
 Sacred picture, with a legend, 
 
 She endeavored to recall. 
 Long she pondered, till the Christ Child 
 
 Radiant, wondrous to behold. 
 Stood erect and pointed downward 
 
 To a glittering heap of gold. 
 
 When the morning shadows flitted 
 
 O'er the poor care-worn face. 
 They were very loth to linger 
 
 In so desolate a place ; 
 They would wake the Christmas morning 
 
 In gay halls of pomp and pride, 
 And in gloom and desolation. 
 
 Leave the poor for whom Christ died. 
 
 "Wake up, sister, it is morning! 
 
 Hark ! the Christmas bells ring clear ! 
 I will wear my sealskin turban, 
 
 Father's gift to me last year. 
 We will walk to church together 
 
 In the blessed morning light." 
 Peter Lyngolff shuddering started, 
 
 Was it Death that met his sight? 
 
 Then a sudden frenzy seized him 
 And he cried, *'0 Christ our King, 
 
 Why allow the good and faithful 
 To endure such suffering? 
 
California and Other Poems 33 
 
 Father exiled in Siberia, 
 
 Mother dead from want and woe, 
 
 Clotilde starved — my angel sister — 
 And I — whither shall I go?" 
 
 Here he dashed the sacred picture 
 
 Down upon the cabin floor. 
 And the noise awoke the maiden, 
 
 To behold its golden store 
 Scattered round, with lavish bounty 
 
 Even to her very feet, 
 While the boy, o'ercome with wonder, 
 
 Sank into the nearest seat. 
 
 For a secret panel opened 
 
 That had hitherto been barred. 
 Not a bit of glass was broken, 
 
 Not a line of beauty marred. 
 Search revealed a faded paper 
 
 Very difficult to read: 
 ''For the heirs of Jago Lyngolff 
 
 In their hour of sorest need." 
 
 'Tt is Christmas morning, sister," 
 
 Peter said with tearful eyes; 
 ''Grandfather now up in heaven 
 
 Planned for us this great surprise. 
 Let us keep the feast, with gladness, 
 
 While the yule log burns bright, 
 And replace the sacred picture 
 
 Of the Christ, who reigns by right." 
 
34 California and Other Poems 
 
 PARNELL. 
 
 A gloomy cloud has settled 
 
 Over sunny Avondale, 
 For the honest peasants mourn 
 
 O'er the unexpected tale : 
 "Dieu lin ! Dieu lin, Mavourneen !" 
 
 They wail in accents low, 
 While down wan cheeks, in torrents, 
 
 The tears of anguish flow. 
 
 Wailing and lamentation 
 
 Prevail on every hand, 
 For the greatest leader ever known 
 
 To fated Ireland. 
 Her uncrowned king is dead — 
 
 Unconscious of her cause, 
 Who spent himself and all he owned 
 
 To frame her better laws. 
 
 *'A Wirah stroua, Mavourneen !" 
 
 They wail in bitter grief. 
 The loyal heart of Ireland 
 
 Must break or find relief. 
 A star of the first magnitude 
 
 Has fallen from its sphere, 
 And Erin's sky is shrouded 
 
 In gloomy, dark despair. 
 
 Could Death, forever ruthless, 
 Have found no other mark, 
 
 For this cruel, fated arrow, 
 Shot blindly in the dark? 
 
California and Other Poems 35 
 
 Were there not tens of thousands, 
 
 Brave Irish hearts and true, 
 Who would g'ladly die, that Parnell 
 
 Might push his conquests through? 
 
 "How are the mighty fallen !" 
 
 They say in lordly hall, 
 While a gloomy, sad foreboding 
 
 Is felt by great and small. 
 But a true and honest sorrow 
 
 Dwells in the hovels poor, 
 Where the bleak October tempest 
 
 Howls through each shattered door. 
 
 And little squalid children 
 
 Flock to their mother's knee. 
 To hear of him, whom they had hoped 
 
 Would set their country free. 
 "Ochone a lannah ! a lannah ! 
 
 Great Parnell is no more; 
 Our hopes are set in darkest night. 
 
 He is dead, a villah sthore!" 
 
 Weep on, oppressed people, 
 
 Since weeping is your lot; 
 By retributive justice 
 
 Your cause is not forgot. 
 Some other mighty leader 
 
 May at your helm soon stand; 
 But the stranded craft of Erin 
 
 Moves slow to stranger hand. 
 
36 California and Other Poems 
 
 ABOUT HEAVEN. 
 
 I did not think much about heaven 
 
 When Ethel sat with me 
 On the sunny brow of Glenallah, 
 
 O'erlooking the blue sea ; 
 Sweet innocence enshrined her 
 
 Like vestal robes of white, 
 Her presence made my heaven 
 
 All beautiful and bright. 
 
 Sweet was the lovelight in her eyes, 
 
 And pure as heaven's blue, 
 Revealing such a noble soul. 
 
 Affectionate and true. 
 The calm sea like a sheet of glass 
 
 Reflected heaven above; 
 That day her fondly whispered, ''Yes" 
 
 Responded to my love. 
 
 Her little foot beat nervously 
 
 The daisy-spangled ward, 
 Her white hand trembled within mine. 
 
 Like a coy woodland bird, 
 When half in sorrow, half in joy, 
 
 She spoke these words to me: 
 'Tn God's fadeless bright forever 
 
 'There shall be no more sea.' " 
 
 ^ ;!: ;iJ ^ ^ 
 
 They brought me my darling dead — 
 Drowned in Glenallah Bay — 
 
 The golden glory of her head 
 Dripping with angry spray. 
 
California and Other Poems 37 
 
 The light from her eyes had vanished, 
 
 Her httle hand lay still ; 
 May God forget a prayer I said 
 
 Beneath Glenallah Hill! 
 
 O the green, angry ocean, 
 
 How I did hate its roar. 
 As it moaned and tossed its billows 
 
 Against the rock-bound shore, 
 No tears relieved my anguish 
 
 Till her words came back to me: 
 'Tn God's fadeless bright forever 
 
 'There shall be no more sea.' " 
 
 Now I often think of heaven. 
 
 With its many mansions fair. 
 Because she is watching and waiting 
 
 Until I join her there 
 By the calm and beautiful river. 
 
 Where trees of healing grow 
 In God's fadeless bright forever. 
 
 Beyond time's ebb and flow. 
 
 Yet somehow my fancy pictures 
 
 A smiling, calm blue sea. 
 With Ethel sitting beside me, 
 
 Where death can never be; 
 When I read of the "sea of glass" 
 
 I think of Glenallah Bay, 
 As it slept in tranquil beauty 
 
 One glad, bright summer day. 
 
38 California and Other Poems 
 
 THANKSGIVING: A TRUE STORY. 
 
 It was the eve of Thanksgiving-, 
 
 The scene was in the East, 
 Where frost and snow lay everywhere 
 
 To emphasize the feast; 
 And over all a rain-storm. 
 
 With thunder-sounding dread, 
 Like Gabriel's final trumpet 
 
 That wakens up the dead. 
 
 Upon a lone, bleak mountain 
 
 A woman barred the door, 
 Then lay her three small children 
 
 Down flat upon the floor; 
 For lightning flashed like fury 
 
 Around them everywhere. 
 She prayed aloud : "God help us 
 
 All, in His loving care !" 
 
 Their father, her protector. 
 
 Lay drunk in a saloon. 
 Away down in the city, 
 
 Since early yester noon. 
 There is no food. He went to buy 
 
 Some good things for the day 
 The nation calls Thanksgiving, 
 
 When to the Lord they pray. 
 
 "My head is aching, mother," 
 
 The youngest baby said ; 
 *T think I must be hungry. 
 
 And want a piece of bread." 
 
California and Other Poems 39 
 
 The other two complained not, 
 
 But moaned as if in pain ; 
 They both were red as lobsters, 
 
 The mother's skill was vain! 
 
 The storm abated somewhat; 
 
 She put the babes to bed 
 And started for the doctor 
 
 Who lived three miles ahead. 
 He quarantined the little home— 
 
 'Twas scarlet fever, sure. 
 God pity the poor mother 
 
 And help her to endure! 
 
 He did. The neighbors far and wide 
 
 Came flocking to her aid, 
 With turkey, bread, mince pie and cake 
 
 That in the shed they laid. 
 She spread her table thankfully. 
 
 Her voice arose in prayer: 
 "Almighty Father, bless the friends 
 
 Who of Thy poor take care!" 
 
 A timid knock came to the door, 
 
 A tramp came seeking bread. 
 She sent him to the woodshed, 
 
 Where he was amply fed. 
 'Tis thus the loaves and fishes 
 
 Are ever multiplied 
 For His dear sake who gave Himself— 
 
 The Just One, Crucified. 
 
40 California and Other Poems 
 
 THE CIVIC CLUB BANQUET. 
 
 Hurrah ! Hurrah for the Civic Club 
 
 And its members good and true! 
 And hurrah for their royal banquet 
 
 That cheers us through and through ! 
 They light the torch of progress 
 
 And advertise our land — 
 Its orange groves, its fertile plains, 
 
 Its mountains wild and grand. 
 
 Three cheers for California, 
 
 And San Luis Obispo! 
 The sweetest, dearest home nest 
 
 You find where'er you go, 
 Blooming with vernal beauty 
 
 The live long year around. 
 Take off your shoes and worship, 
 
 For this is holy ground. 
 
 Where buried gold and wealth untold 
 
 Await the toiler's hand. 
 Not the man with the hoe of long ago. 
 
 But the athlete strong and grand — 
 Our Polytechnic product 
 
 Of independent mien; 
 Lord of himself — a king and priest 
 
 In Labor's vast domain. 
 
 Here there is bread and work for all 
 With honest heart and brain; 
 
 Rich, fertile lands to cultivate 
 With mellow fruits and grain. 
 
California and Other Poems 41 
 
 Life is worth while, beneath the sky 
 
 Of this progressive State, 
 Where duty is a pleasure 
 
 And Virtue maketh great. 
 
 Dear sisters of the Civic Club 
 
 Look toward the east to see 
 A dawning opportunity 
 
 For Native Industry; 
 Your shells convert to buttons. 
 
 Your seaweed into kelp — 
 Build factories along the coast 
 
 To yield the stranger help. 
 
 Agitate and agitate ! 
 
 For street-cars here and there; 
 We get too stiff with walking 
 
 And can afford the fare. 
 Those who have got the money 
 
 Will aid you in each plan 
 You form for the betterment 
 
 Of every living man. 
 
 From every wind of heaven, 
 
 Strangers are blown this way; 
 It rests with you — it rests with all 
 
 If they have come to stay 
 Where they may give their children 
 
 A golden chance to see 
 The wonders of Eternal Love 
 
 Crowning Humanity. 
 
42 California and Other Poems 
 
 A CHRISTMAS REVERIE. 
 
 An old man, sad and weary, 
 
 Sat in the Yule log's glow, 
 Recalling in dim vision 
 
 The scenes of long ago. 
 He sees a boy reclining 
 
 On pillows soft and white, 
 Watching for good old Santa Claus 
 
 Throughout the live-long night. 
 
 But in the early dawning 
 
 He fell asleep at last, 
 Just at the very moment 
 
 Santa flitted past; 
 For there hung his big stocking 
 
 Full of delightful things. 
 "Hurrah," he shouts, "for Christmas, 
 
 And the good cheer it brings." 
 
 Upon the homestead threshold 
 
 He sees his mother stand; 
 Her parting tears are falling 
 
 Upon his clinging hand. 
 "God bless my boy," she sobbed aloud ; 
 
 "From sorrow, sin and shame. 
 May he be ever shielded 
 
 In the Redeemer's Name." 
 
 And in life's hottest conflict. 
 Through good report and ill, 
 
 He heard that tender pleading, 
 Guiding his wayward will. 
 
California and Other Poems 43 
 
 Ah! mother's love enduring, 
 
 Christ-like, unto the end, 
 A nation's sacred incense 
 
 That from home nests ascend. 
 
 The scene is changed. A lady fair, 
 
 Bearing the wand of love, 
 Of noble, queenly bearing, 
 
 Yet gentle as a dove. 
 He woos and wins, and proudly 
 
 Bears his young bride away — 
 A wife, from God's own altar, 
 
 One happy Christmas Day. 
 
 ''Dead! Twenty years, this Yule-tide," 
 
 He murmurs with a groan, 
 ''She left me baby AUce. 
 
 I am not all alone. 
 Yonder, wath her lover 
 
 Under the mistletoe. 
 She talks of getting married. 
 
 And leaving me, I know." 
 
 Then o'er the dying embers. 
 
 The old man bending low, 
 Prayed heaven to guard his little one 
 
 And shield her from all woe. 
 They celebrated Christmas, 
 
 Not dreaming of the tears 
 That fell beside the Yule log 
 
 O'er memories of past years. 
 
44 California and Other Poems 
 
 LET THERE BE LIGHT. 
 
 (The London churches turn down the light to con- 
 ciliate the poor.) 
 
 Turn down the light, the poor are here ; 
 Lest the flash of your diamonds, rich and rare, 
 Should turn to a curse the pauper's prayer. 
 
 Turn down the lights : the widow's weeds 
 Are shabby, and tell of her daily needs, 
 Louder than prayers and chants and creeds. 
 
 A soldier brave bore her heart away 
 
 To Africa, one bright May day; 
 
 For his soul's repose she comes to pray. 
 
 Her face is pale from want and woe, 
 Her eyes are dim and her step is slow, 
 Once on a time it was not so. 
 
 Alack ! for your diamonds, O ladies fair, 
 They are baubles in view of her grand despair; 
 While God is listening to her prayer. 
 
 Turn down the lights : a chieftain brave 
 Appeals to omniscience his life to save, 
 From exile or from a felon's grave. 
 
 He did no wrong his soul to stain, 
 
 He defended the weak and would again, 
 
 Hanged or imprisoned, his deeds remain. 
 
California and Other Poems 45 
 
 A proud reproof to England's wrong, 
 For retributive justice is true and strong; 
 And the hero lives in his country's song. 
 
 Turn down the lights : There are sins untold, 
 
 Hidden away in cathedrals old; 
 
 Where spoils of office are bought and sold. 
 
 Turn up the lights, on your ladies proud. 
 Ere the pauper's rags become their shroud. 
 Hark ! Hark pale justice is calling loud. 
 
 "Let there be light," Jehovah calls, 
 In church, in state and lobby halls. 
 To read the handwriting on the walls. 
 
 MY BEST VALENTINE, A. W. SHURRAGAR, 
 
 JR. 
 
 Arthur Welesley Junior, 
 
 You captivate my heart; 
 I am the love-lorn victim 
 
 Of Cupid's cruel dart. 
 Your eyes have wooed and won me; 
 
 Your smile, like sunshine, cheers 
 My very soul to ecstasy. 
 
 Checkered by hopes and fears. 
 
 For dearest love, we cannot tell, 
 
 As seers and prophets do 
 The things the future must unfold 
 
 To Valentines, like you. 
 
46 California and Other Poems 
 
 But this is still a comfort: 
 Unto our Father's care 
 
 I can entrust my darling 
 In loving, heartfelt prayer. 
 
 Ah me ! Ah me ! ^ly precious one, 
 
 I'm jealous to the core, 
 Lest any evil thing befall 
 
 My loved one evermore. 
 May God Almighty shield him 
 
 Within omniscient care. 
 Leading him gently by the hand, 
 
 Then there is naught to fear. 
 
 Arthur, little sweetheart, 
 
 My very light of love, 
 ■My precious, priceless Valentine; 
 
 All gold and gems, above. 
 Now nestle closely to my heart 
 
 And kiss my cheek and brow. 
 And vow that in the coming years 
 
 You'll love me, just as now. 
 
 Not two years old, you little elf, 
 
 You charm all you meet ! 
 To lay their loving homage 
 
 Down at your baby feet. 
 I fear you only say, "Goo ! Goo !" 
 
 Your grandma's eyes to blind. 
 To all the flirting you can do 
 
 Her doting back behind. 
 
California and Other Poems 47 
 
 EASTER DAWN. 
 
 The glorious dawn of Easter 
 
 Is waking up the East, 
 Inspiring us with gladness 
 
 That we may keep the feast; 
 Casting aside the garments 
 
 Of sordid, base desire, 
 Until our hearts are warmed 
 
 By Faith's own holy fire. 
 
 Earth's manhood has been sleeping 
 
 Within the silent tomb. 
 Strong guards have long been keeping 
 
 Their watch through years of gloom. 
 The angel has descended 
 
 And rolled the stone away, 
 And folded up the grave clothes 
 
 For resurrection day. 
 
 The guards are falling dead around 
 
 The dawning in the East, 
 For God's own angel spreadeth 
 
 The resurrection feast. 
 Awake, O earth, and banish 
 
 Death's sleep from out thine eye, 
 That in the dawn of Easter 
 
 The sin and shame may die. 
 
 Till down falls that tall giant, 
 A guard both fierce and strong, 
 
 Whose cruel eye hath gloated 
 On misery so long; 
 
48 California and Other Poems 
 
 For, dazzled by the dawning, 
 Grim War lays down his sword 
 
 And kneels in adoration 
 Before the risen Lord. 
 
 And grinding, grim monopoly 
 
 Awakes and rubs its eye. 
 Above the tomb 'tis written, 
 
 *'The soul that sins must die" — 
 That sins against humanity 
 
 And wrongs the weak and poor, 
 Another guard is smitten dead 
 
 Before the open door. 
 
 Then came a tall, fierce giant strong. 
 
 The tomb of Christ to guard, 
 And promised gold in plenty 
 
 As vigilance's reward ; 
 But Mammon fell as dead before 
 
 The dawning Easter light, 
 And God's own precious Son arose 
 
 In manhood's deathless might. 
 
 Hypocrisy next fell away. 
 
 With canting Doubt and Fear, 
 For in the light of Easter day 
 
 Men read things true and clear; 
 And then, becoming masters 
 
 Of their own destiny. 
 They folded up the grave clothes 
 
 On tombs of slavery. 
 
California and Other Poems 49 
 
 Then floated high the banner 
 
 Of universal love. 
 As tender as a mother's dream, 
 
 As gentle as a dove; 
 For God so loved the world 
 
 That His own Son He gave 
 To lead into the higher life 
 
 The tenants of the grave. 
 
 EASTER 1914. 
 
 The world is full of Easter bloom, 
 Hark ! Angels sing above the tomb 
 
 Where we have laid our dead. 
 Above, beneath us and around, 
 Earth's many voices gladly sound : 
 
 "Mourner, why seek the dead 
 Among the living?" A joyous throng 
 Are moving, noiselessly along 
 
 The highway of the Lord ; 
 Unnumbered hosts arrayed in white 
 Are moving ever, in the light, 
 
 Enjoying their reward. 
 
 God has a place, beyond the sun — 
 An Easter home for everyone, 
 
 With ever3'thing complete. 
 The tribulation all is past, 
 The Rest and Peace are found at last 
 
 Before the mercy seat; 
 
50 California and Other Poems 
 
 And here, perchance, they come at will, 
 God's blessed purpose to fulfill, 
 
 For loved ones left behind. 
 The Prophet saw an armed host 
 Around him, when he needed most 
 
 Their ministration, kind. 
 
 'Tis thus the cloud of witness, strong. 
 Protects us, ever, from all wrong; 
 
 Although we may not see 
 The sword that strikes the deadly blow 
 Against our formidable foe. 
 
 To set us mortals free. 
 To keep the Easter feast, indeed, 
 According to the Christian's creed, 
 
 *Tn Him we live and move." 
 For Christ is risen from the dead, 
 Humanity's triumphant Head, 
 
 Who rules and reigns by Love. 
 
 If we be risen w^ith the Lord, 
 Exceeding great is the reward 
 
 Of animated clay. 
 Who seek those things that are on high, 
 The precious things that never die 
 
 When earth shall pass away. 
 Live for humanity, and die 
 If need be for thy calling high ; — 
 
 Your Easter's guiding Star. 
 Sing the new redemption song; 
 The desert march will seem less long 
 
 And Canaan's shore less far. 
 
California and Other Poems 51 
 
 RETROSPECTIVE. 
 
 Vm going home. I'm glad to go, 
 
 The journey has been long. 
 My footsteps now are very slow, 
 
 Once vigorous and strong. 
 Rest, sweet rest, and peace at last, 
 
 Safe in the promised land. 
 One little step across the stream 
 
 To reach the golden strand. 
 
 A little babe tossed by the tide 
 
 Upon an unknown coast 
 Into a mother's sheltering arms, 
 
 Where frailty counted most. 
 Before the dawn of reason's day 
 
 Awoke my slumbering soul. 
 My mother's love prepared the way 
 
 To the desired goal. 
 
 Across life's sultry desert way, 
 
 A maiden fair looks far 
 Into the Eden, smiling gay 
 
 With bloom, beyond hope's star. 
 In rosy hues she dimly saw 
 
 Enchanting love-lit bowers. 
 Wherein to live was Paradise 
 
 Created for young lovers. 
 
 She gained the Eden of her dreams — 
 The Promised Land of love. 
 
 Her childhood's home was left behind. 
 Her mother gone above. 
 
52 California and Other Poems 
 
 'Tis good to live and best to love, 
 'Tis sw^eet to hope and v^ait 
 
 For little baby kisses 
 
 Fresh from the Pearly Gate. 
 
 Some are married, some are dead ; 
 
 My babes of long ago. 
 And he who loved the mother best 
 
 In yonder grave lies low^. 
 Upon my heart, incased in gold, 
 
 A lock of raven hair 
 Is all that's left of Ronald now, 
 
 My lover, young and fair. 
 
 And looking back, I see it all. 
 
 And in my clouded brain 
 I darkly see, as in a glass. 
 
 Life's milestones o'er again. 
 My Ronald, aye, so kind and true. 
 
 My Ben and pretty Bess, 
 Were good and promising to view. 
 
 Whom all should love and bless. 
 
 And now I'm old, and all alone 
 
 To wait the coming tide; 
 'Tis but a step, a little step 
 
 Unto the other side! 
 And the loved and lost are dearest, 
 
 The absent always best; 
 I long to lay my weary head 
 
 Again on Roland's breast. 
 
California and Other Poems 53 
 
 And hear once more the pattering feet 
 
 Of little ones I laid 
 Beneath the blooming locust tree, 
 
 In fragrant, balmy shade. 
 And yet I'm very lonely, 
 
 To leave old Mother Earth, 
 She has been kind and good to me 
 
 Since first God gave me birth. 
 
 IN LENT. 
 
 Lord Christ, I scarcely know the way; 
 
 The drifts are deep, the night is cold, 
 But Thou wilt never let me stray, 
 
 Good Shepherd of the lower fold. 
 
 The wind blows bleak, across the moor. 
 O'er sleeping places of my dead. 
 
 And grief lies heavy at my door, 
 Where offerings might rest instead. 
 
 With weeping sore mine eyes are dim, 
 I cannot see the narrow way. 
 
 My only hope, I walk with Him 
 Who will not suffer me to stray. 
 
 My Lord and Savior, lead me still 
 Until I reach the upper fold ; 
 
 I yield submission to Thy will 
 However dark the night and cold. 
 
54 California and Other Poems 
 
 THANKSGIVING, 1911. 
 
 America, thy voice attune 
 
 To psalm of highest praise, 
 For all the mercies of the past 
 
 And hopes of future days. 
 Thou art the first of nations 
 
 The blessed sun smiles on, 
 The Lord of Hosts, alone, thy king, 
 
 Through conquests nobly won. 
 
 America ! America ! 
 
 Thy stars and stripes should be 
 A token betwixt man and man 
 
 Of Truth and Equity ! 
 Hold fast thy blood-bought heritage, 
 
 That vice and wrong may flee 
 Before thy honored, stainless flag — 
 
 The standard of the free ! 
 
 The cursed thing now in thy midst 
 
 Spreads o'er the nation, wide. 
 The wealthy have made golden calves 
 
 To worship in their pride. 
 The cofifers of the land o'erflow 
 
 With gold ; yet, hark ; the tears and groans 
 Of toiling millions doubly taxed 
 
 For pomp, that rivals thrones ! 
 
California and Other Poems 55 
 
 The trusts have cornered meat and oil 
 
 Till orphans wail for bread, 
 And widows knead their little cake 
 
 And wish that they were dead! 
 "They've raised our taxes, too," they cry; 
 
 "Few can afford to pay 
 For a bit of chicken dinner 
 
 On this Thanksgiving Day! 
 
 "The beef trusts raise the price of meat, 
 
 We cannot buy a bone, 
 And fish is nothing better, 
 
 We must let both alone." 
 "Let charity," quoth Uncle Sam, 
 
 "O'er all this land hold sway, 
 That rich and poor together 
 
 Observe Thanksgiving Day." 
 
 Dear Uncle, it is kindly meant. 
 
 But hold the flag full high, 
 And let it warn your grafters 
 
 The honest poor would die 
 Before accepting money. 
 
 Or food or clothes, or aught 
 By which their fellow creatures 
 
 Are robbed, or sold, or bought! 
 
 Behold! Within your sanctuary 
 
 A poor man stands alone, 
 A saintly halo crowns His brow — 
 
 He came unto His own. 
 
^6 California and Other Poems 
 
 But all exclaim, *'Not this man, 
 
 Away with Him, away ! 
 We want but Egypt's flesh-pots 
 
 On this Thanksgiving Day." 
 
 Methinks, the Man of Sorrows pleads : 
 
 "Eternity is long. 
 Man cannot live by bread alone. 
 
 Death takes the rich and strong. 
 My lambs on the bleak mountains 
 
 Perish with want and cold. 
 Ye rich men and monopolists, 
 
 Life is much more than gold !" 
 
 Then Uncle Sam unfurled the flag 
 
 With patriotic pride, 
 Saying, I thank the Lord, now women vote, 
 
 Wrong shall be put aside. 
 The glorious dawn of righteousness 
 
 Ushers the golden day 
 W^hen peace, joy and prosperity 
 
 Shall crown Thanksgiving Day. 
 
 And when the single tax is here. 
 
 The masses now crushed down 
 Shall seek no alms at rich men's gates 
 
 In country or in town. 
 But in the meantime thanks are due 
 
 To God for gifts untold ; 
 For simple, daily blessings 
 
 Outweigh the calf of gold. 
 
California and Other Poems 57 
 
 GOD'S TOUCH. 
 
 (From the German.) 
 
 There was once a master builder 
 
 Who toiled on year after year, 
 On one instrument of music 
 
 Lavishing his thought and care; 
 Till within the organ's chambers 
 
 His soul lodged in some strange way: 
 Only for the true and faithful 
 
 Did this organ ever play. 
 
 For the instrument completed 
 
 Was a miracle of art, 
 Playing by Divine suggestion 
 
 Only to the pure in heart. 
 It was marvelous and unique, 
 
 Ne'er before was any such. 
 Multitudes came far to see it. 
 
 And they praised its builder much. 
 
 His demeanor still was humble. 
 
 Never boastful, never proud. 
 ''It is God," he said, ''who does it," 
 
 And his speech well pleased the crowd. 
 So they lauded the great Builder, 
 
 Till his fame spread far and wide, 
 And he won the fairest lady 
 
 In the land to be his bride. 
 
58 California and Other Poems 
 
 On his wedding day, elated, 
 
 He thought of the music grand 
 That his wonderful creation 
 
 Should peal forth, at his command ; 
 Thought of all the pomp and glory 
 
 Till his heart gave place to pride, 
 And he thought more of his triumphs 
 
 Than the lady by his side. 
 
 He saw nothing but the organ, 
 
 His great masterpiece of art. 
 Forgetful of the priceless treasure 
 
 Of a young and guileless heart. 
 Not one prayer from him ascended 
 
 To the throne of God that day. 
 All his thoughts were of the organ 
 
 And the music it would play. 
 
 When the bridal party entered. 
 
 Bright and joyous as the day, 
 Not one note came from the organ 
 
 When he signaled it to play ! 
 From the chancel gazed the Builder 
 
 On his silent work of Art, 
 Disappointment on his features, 
 
 Evil passions in his heart. 
 
 "She is false !" he thundered fiercely, 
 
 "Or my organ would have played," 
 And he left the bridal party 
 
 At the altar, sore dismayed. 
 Then the young bride, in her beauty, 
 
 Doubly widowed, died at heart. 
 But it was not all the doing 
 
 Of the Builder's work of art. 
 
California and Other Poems 59 
 
 Years rolled on. She slowly faded. 
 
 To her maid she said one day, 
 "Bring my wedding- dress, I'll wear it 
 
 On the journey far away." 
 And upon her wasted finger 
 
 She replaced the wedding ring. 
 Thus she passed within the portal 
 
 Of the Palace of the King. 
 
 As they bore the coffin, slowly, 
 
 Past the organ, up the aisle. 
 Came a stranger and stood near it, 
 
 Weeping sadly all the while. 
 Then he spoke unto the people 
 
 In a voice 'twixt sob and cry: 
 "I am the poor organ Builder; 
 
 I have come, with her to die." 
 
 Then upon the congregation 
 
 Fell such music as was ne'er 
 This side of the gate of heaven 
 
 Listened to by mortal ear. 
 ''She was true. You both have suffered. 
 
 Now kind heaven takes you in. 
 Truth and Love are both eternal ; 
 
 In your pride lay all the sin." 
 
 Side by side they laid the lovers, 
 
 Harps of lilies in their hands, 
 For the undertones of music 
 
 The Creator understands. 
 But the Builder's wondrous organ 
 
 Never uttered note again. 
 But within the hearts of many 
 
 Linger still its last refrain. 
 
6o California and Other Poems 
 
 HALLOW-EVE. 
 
 I sit beside the embers, 
 
 Where shadows come and go. 
 It is the twiHght hour, 
 
 The Sim is sinking low. 
 I feel both sad and weary 
 
 With the burdens of the day; 
 For the weight of years is heavy 
 
 When youth has passed away. 
 
 With head at rest upon my arm, 
 
 I gave my fancy fling, 
 For it was Hallowe'en, when all 
 
 The imseen spirits sing. 
 With all the hosts of heaven 
 
 Swelling the chorus grand, 
 I heard the heavenly music 
 
 But failed to understand 
 
 Until I saw them flocking 
 
 Around the dark'ning room. 
 Then I heard and looked, in wonder, 
 
 For my loved ones too had come. 
 The joy of it oppressed me 
 
 When I heard my favorite song 
 About the New Jerusalem, 
 
 I had not heard so long. 
 
 Not since my little Annie 
 
 Sang it last to me. 
 And played it on the violin — 
 
 Well, maybe you can see? 
 
California and Other Poems 6i 
 
 And she came up still singing 
 
 And touched my tears away; 
 "Mother!" she said, so softly, 
 
 ''To-morrow is 'AH Saints Day !' " 
 
 And patter, patter, o'er the floor, 
 
 My little two-year-old 
 Came toddling to my arms. 
 
 His hands and feet so cold. 
 I tucked him snug and warm 
 
 And clasped him to my breast, 
 But when I kissed my baby 
 
 He vanished with the rest. 
 
 A STRANGE VALENTINE. 
 
 Dear love of mine, this Valentine 
 
 Expressly framed for you. 
 Has got no tinsel trappings 
 
 To captivate the view ; 
 And yet methinks its language 
 
 More redolent v^th love 
 Than garlands of June roses 
 
 Or cooing of the dove. 
 
 In thought, I see you ponder 
 
 The meaning of its lore, 
 Which is, that love worth having 
 
 Is love for evermore. 
 No flitting, fading emblem 
 
 Could represent to you 
 What can but be interpreted 
 
 By something strong and true. 
 
62 California and Other Poems 
 
 To win you for my Valentine, 
 
 Out of the vaulted blue 
 I would of twinkling little stars 
 
 Make coronets for you. 
 I'd dive the deepest ocean 
 
 To find the gems most rare, 
 And with love's fond emotion 
 
 Entwine them in 3^our hair. 
 
 I would do more. This wondrous age, 
 
 With all its pomp and pride 
 Should bow with loyal homage 
 
 Before my chosen bride. 
 For I, her king, would sweetly sing 
 
 Her beauty and her worth 
 Until her fame resounded. 
 
 With glory o'er the earth. 
 
 But much of this is fancy, dear. 
 
 Though some of it is truth, 
 For romance paints in gorgeous hues 
 
 The sweet day-dreams of youth. 
 Perchance a sad to-morrow, 
 
 Along the unknown way 
 May cast a cloud of sorrow 
 
 On bright hopes of to-day. 
 
 Pale roses, then, and violets. 
 
 Might tell the tale more true, 
 But, dearest love, this Valentine 
 
 I cannot well undo. 
 As fittest emblem of your worth, 
 
 And of the love I feel, 
 I send you, set in precious stones, 
 
 A heart of truest steel. 
 
California and Other Poems 63 
 
 THE LURE OF AUTUMN. 
 
 It is not fortune's fickle smile 
 That fills my soul with bliss, 
 
 It is not wealth that can beguile 
 Life's misery like this ; 
 
 The magic born of earth and sky 
 Lure on to joys that never die. 
 
 Painting in colors rich and rare 
 
 The landscape far and wide, 
 Green, gold and amber smiling fair, 
 
 Decay and death to hide. 
 Athwart the lawn are dying beds 
 
 On which kind Autumn, beauty sheds. 
 
 "My days are in the yellow sere," 
 
 Sang out a poet, long ago, 
 What is there in this thought to fear? 
 
 Whether death come fast or slow. 
 The buds are on the tree that shed 
 
 The sere leaves on the violet's bed. 
 
 The sun smiles warmly and gay — 
 A golden glow spreads o'er the west, 
 
 The green hills beckon far away 
 To Eden bowers of rest. 
 
 What is it mortals have to fear 
 
 W^hen mellow Autumn draweth near? 
 
64 California and Other Poems 
 
 It is the glory of the year, 
 
 This harvest time of richest store, 
 
 When full and plenty banish care 
 And spread a feast before the poor, 
 
 Whispering "Spring will come again, 
 And joy eternal banish pain." 
 
 LABOR DAY, 1913. 
 
 Clear the track, you idle drones 
 
 That neither toil nor spin! 
 Let the sons of toil march on to-day 
 The world's applause to win. 
 We push and we groan, 
 Till the work is done ; 
 Then another task begin. 
 
 Our hands are hard as the clay we mold, 
 
 Our limbs are too weary to move. 
 But we toil along day in, day out 
 For the sake of those we love. 
 
 The sweat runs down our faces grim 
 While we tune our hearts to the toiler's hymn 
 In appeal to God above: — 
 
 Labor is sweet for Christ has toiled; 
 
 He trod Life's toilsome way, 
 And no matter how our hands are soiled 
 We can raise them to Him and pray 
 
 For the rest that comes, when work is done. 
 And the peace at setting of the sun. 
 In green fields far away. 
 
California and Other Poems 65 
 
 Clear the track ! Your gems and gold, 
 
 Your stretches of fertile land, 
 Your houses filled with toys untold, 
 Your blue blood and titles grand. 
 
 Get out of our way, with your fraud and sham 
 You steal the wool of the shorn lamb 
 And Justice and truth withstand. 
 
 Make room on God's earth so green and fair. 
 
 For children weak and small 
 Who perish for want of food and air 
 In tenements close and tall ; 
 
 They scarcely know when the light of day 
 Kisses the dewdrops far away. 
 Or the lark's *'good morning" call. 
 
 Father of Light, life is too short 
 
 And the road to its end so hard ! 
 Why should men try to grasp too much. 
 But lose the great reward? 
 
 The fool, who built his barns high. 
 Was called of God that day to die. 
 And, believe me, he found it hard. 
 
 How long? O, Lord of Hosts, how long 
 
 Shall unrighteousness and wrong 
 Retard the world's progress 
 As the toilers march along? 
 
 To-day, in accents bold they proclaim 
 "To hunter and toiler belong the game, 
 While plunder belongs to none." 
 
66 California and Other Poems 
 
 THE BALLOT, 1910. 
 
 Indeed it is a time of fear 
 
 And trembling, when the billows near, 
 
 Our ship of state to sink. 
 Jehovah, calm the surging sea, 
 Until in calm security 
 
 We reach the haven's brink. 
 
 Why need we fear? In Thee we trust. 
 What craven gloats o'er piles of dust 
 
 In this approaching fight? 
 For principles both true and tried 
 Our fathers voted, bled, and died 
 
 Defenders of the Right. 
 
 Let blue and gray as one unite, 
 Breasting the wave, in manhood's might, 
 
 For strong the noble cause ; 
 And may the King of Nations hear 
 Our earnest and united prayer 
 
 For just and equal laws. 
 
 America, first Queen of earth, 
 Asserts her claim to royal birth. 
 
 Fresh from Jehovah's hand; 
 Each voter is a priest and king 
 By right Divine, with power to bring 
 
 Forth bread for all this land. 
 
 Then freeborn sons, of royal birth, 
 Defend this fairest land on earth 
 From tyranny and wrong; 
 
California and Other Poems 67 
 
 Flock to the standard of the free 
 And strike down fraud and bribery 
 With steady aim and strong. 
 
 The land and gold are but a trust, 
 Which we, as stewards one day must 
 
 Yield up at Death's command. 
 Then let us in God's name be clean, 
 From subterfuge and all things mean, 
 
 Worthy our birthright grand. 
 
 LONGINGS, 1912. 
 
 Oh ! for a breath of the breezy hills 
 
 O'ershadowing Dublin Bay! 
 Where dewy nectar the wild rose fills, 
 That blooms and blushes by rippling rills, 
 
 And smiles through the livelong day. 
 
 And oh ! for a fairy boat to take 
 
 Me over the waters blue 
 Of beautiful Killarney Lake, 
 Where wild birds chanted in sylvan brake 
 
 A thrilling last adieu 
 
 As I left the cottage, ivy grown, 
 
 Near the old oak by the well, 
 From which the nestlings all have flown ; 
 Now rank wild weeds their seeds have sown 
 
 Round the dear old house in the dell. 
 
68 California and Other Poems 
 
 I sigh for the dance of the harvest home, 
 
 When youths and maidens fair, 
 FroHcking, rolHcking, hastened to come, 
 And the gossip's tongue for a time was dumb, 
 
 For all hearts were free from care. 
 
 I sigh! I die! in the stranger's land, 
 
 No matter how fair it be ; 
 For I cannot grasp the alien's hand 
 And frame fair speeches at command 
 
 Expressive of loyalty. 
 
 King Christmas marches down the line 
 With royal gifts and music fine 
 
 That make my heart more sad 
 For the dear old scenes of long ago 
 And the dear old faces lying low 
 
 That made Christmas times so glad. 
 
 The world grows gray in the twilight dim 
 
 When the lights are turned low, 
 And we chant by the yule log the Christmas hymn 
 About the Star of Bethlehem 
 
 We learned so long ago. 
 
 But the past is gone beyond recall 
 And silent and sad is the manger stall 
 
 And tears unbidden flow ; 
 For the ghosts that haunt us come at will 
 Our cup of memory to fill — 
 
 And temper each joy with woe. 
 
California and Other Poems 69 
 
 MY VALENTINE. 
 
 My Valentine is young and fair, 
 The sunbeams linger in her hair, 
 
 As loving to caress her. 
 Her eyes are bits of heaven's blue, 
 Where little twinkling stars shine through. 
 
 May God Almighty bless her! 
 
 The golden ringlets of her hair 
 Have formed a chain so soft and fair, 
 
 Around my heart forever; 
 And when I kiss her dimpled chin 
 I breathe a prayer, my heart within 
 
 That naught our love may sever. 
 
 "Gladys" is my sweetheart's name. 
 Already she is known to fame, 
 
 In many a song and sonnet. 
 Her form is molded in true grace, 
 And O! the beauty of her face 
 
 Framed in a dainty bonnet. 
 
 To hear her lisping words, so wise, 
 Revealing dreams of Paradise 
 
 Ere sin had cursed the earth. 
 For hours she sits upon my knee, 
 Whispering mysteries to me 
 
 Of Life and Death and Birth. 
 
70 California and Other Poems 
 
 In her companionship I find 
 A solace for a troubled mind. 
 
 However great the pain, 
 She brings to every gloomy mood 
 Her balm of Gilead, tried and good, 
 
 To make me well again. 
 
 She's only six years old, you see ; 
 But fancy what my love will be 
 
 When she is seventeen! 
 Will she be grandma's sweetheart then? 
 Or will the very best of men 
 
 Step in as Go-between? 
 
 EVICTED— AN IRISH SCENE. 
 
 He stood where the children used to play, 
 
 In the shady yard by the old oak tree — 
 He leaned on his staff and thus did pray: 
 
 ''Lord, in Thy mercy remember me, 
 I am nearly three-score years and ten, 
 
 And life's sad day is well-nigh o'er. 
 If my soul rebels at the deeds of men, 
 
 I need Thy pity, my Lord, the more. 
 
 "My young hands planted this giant oak; 
 
 There, 'neath its shade is Molly's bower, 
 Where her golden curls I used to stroke 
 
 Ere her young heart dreamed of another lover. 
 
California and Other Poems 71 
 
 Close by is the hawthorn in full bloom 
 My Johnny planted when five years old. 
 
 I laid some blossoms on his tomb ; 
 Maybe he knows the farm is sold! 
 
 "My grandfather built of solid stones 
 
 That humble cot where I first drew breath ; 
 In yonder churchyard they laid his bones 
 
 After he toiled himself to death. 
 Father died of fever while young, 
 
 Leaving the home to mother and me. 
 Then the thorns of care first stung 
 
 The hand that planted the old oak tree. 
 
 "I cannot help thinking that cot is mine, 
 
 Though the sale is legal, the people say; 
 But, ah me ! the law draws a crooked line 
 
 When a man owes what he cannot pay. 
 But what does it matter, I'm old and sad, 
 
 And I pray kind heaven to take me in ; 
 The Bible says there is rest to be had 
 
 And that Jesus died for all our sin." 
 
 Oh ! An Irish sunset is fair to see. 
 
 With Castle Cloon in its mellow glow, 
 But a white dead face by the old oak tree 
 
 Is the saddest sight the earth can show. 
 Yet beyond the sunset are homes of light, 
 
 Mansions eternal of peace and love. 
 And the laws of that country are just and right, 
 
 For Christ is king in the Courts above. 
 
72 California and Other Poems 
 
 A POEM FOR THE CENTURY. 
 
 He paused when midway up the aisle 
 
 And cahnly gazed around, 
 While painted faces wore a smile, 
 
 Although on holy ground, 
 Aimed at the face that knew no guile, 
 And never stooped to action vile, 
 
 In heavenly beauty crowned. 
 
 His clothes were threadbare, on His face 
 Sat holy thoughts : not proud — 
 
 Alas ! for Him there was no place 
 Amid that godless crowd, 
 
 Where empty pews, with ghostly stare, 
 
 Said tauntingly, ''Reserved with care 
 For dry bones, in their shroud." 
 
 The warden, pompous, fat and rude, 
 
 Said, ''Yonder by the door 
 Are special seats, when folks intrude 
 
 Who are so very poor. 
 Look at his coat, his toil-stained hand ; 
 Pray, make him clearly understand 
 
 His place is at the door!" 
 
 A hireling, in the place of prayer 
 Said roughly, "You come down 
 
 There by the door. We do not care 
 To wait on every clown. 
 
 Our church is fashionable. You 
 
 Cannot afford to rent a pew. 
 Therefore come quickly down." 
 
California and Other Poems 73 
 
 A glory not of earth o'erspread 
 
 The Stranger's face. His eye 
 A pleading glance to heaven sped 
 
 And then He heaved a sigh. 
 'This is my Father's house," He said; 
 ''I came in search of heavenly bread 
 
 That none can eat, and die." 
 
 He walked into the nearest pew 
 
 Where knelt a little child 
 With upturned eyes of heavenly blue, 
 
 And modest air and mild. 
 And it was something strange and sweet 
 To see before the mercy seat 
 
 The two souls, undefiled. 
 
 He sang as if the choirs of heaven 
 
 For earth made holiday; 
 He prayed as if to Him was given 
 
 The universe to sway, 
 And in His mien there was a grace 
 That dignified the sacred place 
 
 As doth the sun the day. 
 
 "Come unto me," the pastor said, 
 
 "And I will give you rest." 
 The Stranger calmly raised His head 
 
 And that vast throng addressed 
 Before the pastor found a word. 
 He held the fashionable crowd, 
 
 And wooed them into rest. 
 
74 California and Other Poems 
 
 "Come unto me, you weary souls, 
 Who rest not day or night ; 
 
 Before God's judgment o'er you rolls 
 In retributive might. 
 
 For you, to-day, have crucified 
 
 The Son of God, and have denied 
 Him room, within your sight. 
 
 ''Come unto me, the Lamb of God, 
 Who died that you might live 
 
 And, poor and weary, life's road trod, 
 Eternal life to give. 
 
 To all who seek His heavenly face. 
 
 And find Him, in their hearts, a place 
 Wherein to work and live." 
 
 They knew the Master, when His hand 
 Was raised in pleading tone; 
 
 He wore that air of high command 
 That rests on Kings alone. 
 
 He was their New Year's guest of love 
 
 To woo their souls to things above 
 That they might share His throne. 
 
 They thronged around to worship Him 
 And kneel before His feet. 
 
 But in the singing of the hymn 
 He vanished from His seat; 
 
 While high o'er human voices came 
 
 Those thrilling words, as burning flame 
 Of inspiration sweet: 
 
California and Other Poems 75 
 
 "I am the Christ of GaHlee, 
 
 The poor man's friend and brother; 
 
 You do the evil unto me 
 When you despise another, 
 
 A Christian is a man whose creed 
 
 Is sympathy with human need. 
 And Love ye one another." 
 
 INDEPENDENCE OF CUBA. 
 
 This is the first Independence Day 
 
 Poor Cuba ever knew. 
 Hurrah, boys ! fire the rockets high 
 
 And hold a grand review. 
 'Tis better to die 'neath a foreign sky 
 
 Than live slaves, at home forever. 
 Sing o'er again, ''Remember the Maine" 
 
 And the brave lads that came back never. 
 
 Hurrah for the flag with its stars and stripes 
 
 That floats over land and sea ! 
 And Hurrah for fair Columbia, 
 
 The land of the brave and free. 
 The cradle of manhood strong and true, 
 
 Triumphant o'er toil and pain ! 
 And Hurrah ! Hurrah ! for the soldier lads 
 
 Who never came back again ! 
 
 They sleep full soundly far away; 
 
 Be still ; not quite so loud ! 
 They cannot share in your holiday 
 
 Who died without shrift or shroud. 
 
76 California and Other Poems 
 
 And some have died of famine, 
 
 More cruel than the sword, 
 While our garners teemed with plenty 
 
 And our coffers overpoured. 
 
 Boys, be still one moment, pray. 
 
 And hear this touching story 
 About a hero who went away 
 
 In search of fame and glory ; 
 His mother knelt for him in prayer 
 
 Before their cottage door. 
 And his sweetheart sobbed, *'I greatly fear 
 
 He will return no more." 
 
 He was a poor man's son, but brave 
 
 And rich in manly beauty; 
 He died his country's flag to save, 
 
 A martyr to his duty. 
 No marble slab tells where he lies. 
 
 Inscribed with his honored name ; 
 There is no ado when a soldier dies, 
 
 The leaders reap all the fame. 
 
 They found above his lifeless heart 
 
 A little lock of hair, 
 And a letter from his mother 
 
 Commending to God's care 
 Her boy, *'God guard you, Charlie; 
 
 The Glorious Fourth is here ; 
 And we have placed your cannon 
 
 Just where they stood last year. 
 
California and Other Poems 77 
 
 *'We have hung- your silken banner 
 
 Above the window-sill, 
 But father looks careworn, 
 
 And the boys look graver still; 
 They say, 'Our Charlie will be home 
 
 When next the Fourth comes 'round; 
 He has grand fireworks to-day 
 
 In Cuba, I'll be bound.' " 
 
 Boys, go on and celebrate ! 
 
 I cannot tell the rest — 
 About his sweetheart, you may guess it. 
 
 But silence here is best. 
 For this is a true story 
 
 That happened last July, 
 When our noble boys were fighting 
 
 To conquer or to die. 
 
 I cannot help conceiving 
 
 How happy we would be 
 If all the kingdoms of the earth 
 
 Lived on in harmony, 
 Holding on high the banner 
 
 The Prince of Peace has given, 
 Till every clime and country 
 
 Became an earthly heaven. 
 
 Each boy may be a hero 
 
 In peace as well as war, 
 And never let his banner 
 
 Of honor lose a star. 
 Fighting for truth and virtue, 
 
 In life's vast battle plain. 
 Till boys in blue and boys in gray 
 
 Shall Home return again. 
 
78 California and Other Poems 
 
 THE AMULET. 
 
 As the soldiers rode to battle, 
 
 One lad reined up his steed, 
 To where a little maiden 
 
 Stood wishing him "Godspeed." 
 She tried to speak, but sobs alone 
 
 Greeted the soldier lad ; 
 His fortitude called up a smile, 
 
 Although his heart felt sad. 
 
 " Twill be a fearful battle, Lenn, 
 
 And maybe — well, you see 
 Before it is all over 
 
 'Twill be eternity. 
 But, darling, God is merciful ; 
 
 When shot and shell, like rain, 
 Are flying o'er the battlefield. 
 
 Pray I return again." 
 
 She took the bit of ribbon 
 
 That tied her golden hair 
 And pinned it to his coat-sleeve 
 
 With tender, loving care. 
 *Tt is a small love-token," 
 
 She lisped 'twixt sob and sigh, 
 "Enough just to remind you 
 
 Of Lenna's constancy." 
 
 At Gettysburg, the other day, 
 A soldier rose, in camp. 
 
 And told this little story 
 
 Till comrades' eyes grew damp 
 
California and Other Poems 79 
 
 When he held up that ribbon, 
 
 Of ragged, faded blue. 
 For forty thousand gallant men 
 
 To take a fond last view. 
 
 "I've treasured over fifty years 
 
 This precious amulet. 
 Speak up! Who knows if Lenna, 
 
 My love, is living yet?" 
 *'Lenna Bond of Gettysburg 
 
 Has joined the grand review 
 Beyond the cold, dark river," 
 
 Spake up her kinsman true. 
 
 "Boys, be still, let me explain," 
 
 The soldier weeping said. 
 "On Gettysburg's fierce, bloody field, 
 
 I was wounded— left for dead. 
 My memory was shattered— 
 
 The past was all a blank. 
 Till a lad in gray stood over me 
 
 To ascertain my rank. 
 
 " 'Sergeant,' he said, 'lean hard on me, 
 
 You yet may stem the tide.' " 
 The warrior turned his head away, 
 
 His blinding tears to hide. 
 And when he found his voice again, 
 
 "Comrades," he feebly said, 
 "I'll tie with it, forget-me-nots. 
 
 To grace her narrow bed." 
 
8o California and Other Poems 
 
 IN MEMORIAM. 
 
 Edward Leo McCormick. 
 
 God rest our noble boy, 
 Within eternal joy, 
 
 Beyond the sun ; 
 And give us faith to say, 
 God gave and took away 
 Our comfort and our stay. 
 
 "His will be done." 
 
 Eddie, when nights are long 
 We'll miss thy cheerful song, 
 
 Thy gay good-night. 
 While thou in endless day, 
 Art gone with Christ to stay. 
 Where tears are wiped away 
 
 In perfect light. 
 
 When June returns again 
 With roses in her train, 
 
 In deathless bloom ; 
 'Mid flowers fresh and fair, 
 Fanned by celestial air. 
 Free from all pain and care, 
 
 Thou art at home. 
 
 'Tis hard to say "farewell," 
 Harder than tongue can tell; 
 
 Never to see 
 Thy kind and gentle face 
 In the accustomed place. 
 Except God soothes with grace 
 
 Our agony. 
 
California and Other Poems 
 
 Earth to earth and clay to clay, 
 In holy trust we lay away 
 
 Our noble boy; 
 Hoping to meet once more, 
 Upon a brighter shore, 
 Our darling gone before. 
 
 To endless joy. 
 
 8l 
 
 ASTERS. 
 
 How beautiful! how beautiful! 
 
 The smile the asters wear, 
 With faces turned heaven\vard. 
 
 Without regret or fear: 
 Brave children of a hardy race, 
 
 Lithe tillers of the soil, 
 Their sweet simplicity and grace 
 
 No studied art can spoil. 
 
 Here they display red, white and blue, 
 
 Dear colors of our nation; 
 There purple, blue and violet, 
 
 To please the whole creation. 
 They are the children's flowers, 
 
 Abundant, varied, free, 
 And charming autumn asters 
 
 Are just the flowers for me. 
 
 How forcibly they teach us 
 That every thought and deed 
 
 Is graven on the human face 
 That he who runs may read 
 
82 California and Other Poems 
 
 The native color of each soul 
 Through every feigned disguise, 
 
 As lovers read their destiny 
 In love-illumined eyes. 
 
 Sweet asters, in your unity 
 
 This principle I read: 
 Be tolerant and loving, 
 
 Whatever be your creed; 
 It is not well to wrangle 
 
 O'er doctrines dark and deep, 
 While Christian faith and hope and love, 
 
 In sorrow, fall asleep. 
 
 *' 'Tis well," you say, ''that we to all 
 
 Be long suffering and kind. 
 Lest politics and prejudice 
 
 Render us color-blind ; 
 And let us be in everything 
 
 Exactly what we seem, 
 For Truth is no delusion 
 
 And virtue is no dream." 
 
 For, far into the future 
 
 Of God's Eternity, 
 We cast our seeds of promise. 
 
 Whatever they may be; 
 God grant that, like the asters 
 
 When spring returns again. 
 We may be bright and beautiful, 
 
 And death to us be gain. 
 
California and Other Poems 83 
 
 AUTUMN WINDS. 
 
 Oh, Autumn winds that cool my brow, 
 
 You bring me joy and pain, 
 I know not which predominates 
 
 Nor can I well explain ; 
 You come from scenes of childhood, 
 
 So very far away, 
 From the meadows and the wildwood. 
 
 Where we, children, loved to play. 
 
 You sweep o'er ruined dwellings, 
 
 O'er nest from which have flown 
 The nestlings of the summer, 
 
 Dost know where they have gone? 
 Oh ! Autumn winds that cool my brow, 
 
 What brings this fever pain? 
 You cannot soothe my anguish now. 
 
 Although I weep in vain. 
 
 You are fickle. Winds of Autumn, 
 
 Capricious, proud and vain. 
 Speed fast and leave me calmly 
 
 To battle with my pain. 
 You know the dear old oak tree 
 
 Beside the homestead door, 
 Where you w^hirled your golden scepter 
 
 In a kingdom now no more. 
 * * * 
 
 I will away to the wildwood 
 
 Far from the city's strife. 
 And dream again of the golden days 
 
 At the golden gate of life; 
 
84 California and Other Poems 
 
 When the merry laugh of childhood 
 Came floating on the breeze, 
 
 As we strung our coral necklets, 
 From the tall, red rowan trees. 
 
 Harken ! Oh, Winds of Autumn, 
 
 Before you pass away, 
 Is there no summer city 
 
 Where little children play, 
 With golden streets, and fruit trees, 
 
 And rivers flowing by, 
 Where healing comes on every breeze 
 
 And loved ones never die? 
 
 I am so weary of earth's strife. 
 
 Its turmoil, sin and sorrow, 
 They trouble you not in your onward life 
 
 To a colder, more dread to-morrow; 
 You lift up the pall of the pauper's rags, 
 
 And laugh thro' the broken door, 
 Where famine and death are creeping 
 
 Over the rotten floor ! 
 
 ''Oh, No! No!" roared back the Wind, 
 
 *'01d friend, why wrong me so? 
 It is I who leave good fruit behind 
 
 And show where the pumpkins grow. 
 I am a messenger of good, 
 
 But greed rules human hearts. 
 There is plenty of food and to spare for all 
 
 In the world's o'erflowing marts. 
 
California and Other Poems 85 
 
 "I would gladly scatter the yellow gold 
 
 Could I hold it in my hand, 
 Like the golden grain and fruit I throw 
 
 In showers o'er the land; 
 I am only a type of a spirit fair 
 
 That touches the human heart, 
 With the love of God, and tells despair, 
 
 And sorrow, and sin, depart." 
 September, 1899. 
 
 LOVE. 
 
 Love is the soft wind of the south, 
 Lulling to sleep the restless wave ; 
 
 The last fond kiss of pallid mouth 
 This side the portal of the grave. 
 
 Love is the essence of the rose. 
 
 Soaring, soaring away to greet the sun^ 
 Diffusing sweetness as it goes, 
 
 Until its earthly race is run. 
 
 Love is the talisman whose hold 
 Encircles Fate with kindly hand. 
 
 Turning the dross of life to gold, 
 And beautifying desert land. 
 
 Love ever seeks its objects good 
 Though in itself is its completion; 
 
 God-like it owns not claims of blood 
 But glorifies its own creation. 
 
86 California and Other Poems 
 
 NEW YEAR— 1901. 
 
 You are welcome, you bright little fellow ! 
 
 Come in, take a seat by the fire; 
 We will give you a warm reception 
 
 Because of our love to your sire. 
 
 You are young and know little, or nothing, 
 
 Of the curious trend of the age. 
 Events that have lately transpired 
 
 Leave dark blots on History's page. 
 
 For instance, the war in the Transvaal, 
 
 So cruel, revengeful, unjust. 
 Why not leave the poor Boers to their farms, 
 
 Their mines and their handful of dust? 
 
 And then, the Chinese, Oh, the Pagans ! 
 What cruelties have they not wrought? 
 Why not leave them to Father Confucius? 
 They shamed the good precepts he taught. 
 
 Oh me ! there are heathens around us — 
 In London, New York and right here; 
 
 The outcasts of civilization, 
 
 Who have long since forgotten Christ's prayer. 
 
 It seems like gnat-straining to blame them — 
 Fleeced lambs to the slaughter house come. 
 
 Before seeking poor lost souls in China 
 Why not sweep our doorsteps at home? 
 
California and Other Poems 87 
 
 America widens her borders 
 
 But harbors the ''Army Canteen." 
 Alas ! for the Garden of Eden 
 
 When snakes crawl the flowers between ! 
 
 You are green, little ivy-crowned Monarch 
 Of the year Nineteen Hundred and One. 
 And I am a garrulous person 
 ^Who wants to know, ''What's to be done?" 
 
 Then up spoke the royal young Monarch, 
 
 With the firm resolve of a man : 
 "I have pledged my allegiance to heaven 
 
 And will set matters right, if I can. 
 
 "No bribery, no frauds or corruption 
 
 In government I shall allow. 
 It is selling one's birthright for pottage 
 
 And breaking a most solemn vow. 
 
 "I will teach coming ages this lesson 
 As older I grow and more strong, 
 
 That humanity must bend the fetters 
 That bind it to anything wrong. 
 
 "For the Kingdom of God is within us, 
 
 And each man a priest and a king 
 Ordained for the service of heaven 
 
 The promised millennium to bring. 
 
 "And soon, very soon, all shall learn 
 
 That love is the keynote to peace. 
 Their swords shall be beaten to plowshares 
 
 And the captives shall all have release. 
 
88 California and Other Poems 
 
 "I will wake up the indolent churches 
 
 And a scourge of small cords I shall make, 
 
 Of the tatters of widows and orphans 
 Whose ermine the hypocrites take. 
 
 "I wdll slay all the Trust corporations 
 
 Established to plunder the poor, 
 That the Golden Age, laden with plenty 
 
 May enter the cottager's door. 
 
 ''I will shelter the weak and innocent 
 That Virtue may lift up her head, 
 
 Exalting a purified Nation, 
 
 Where the Spirit of God has been shed. 
 
 "I will break down the wall or partition 
 That severs the rich from the poor. 
 
 For in Christ all God's children are brothers 
 And enter their home through one door. 
 
 "I will shelter the weak and innocent 
 
 By public opinion, so strong 
 That our daughters may grow as the lilies 
 
 Whose purity shieldeth from wrong. 
 
 ''And then I will go to my fathers 
 y\nd sleep the calm sleep of the just, 
 
 Till eternity hands in the record 
 To God, in w^hom only we trust." 
 
California and Other Poems 89 
 
 THE LOST SMILE. 
 
 (A German Legend.) 
 
 A little maid awoke one day 
 
 And found her bright smile gone. 
 "I'll hunt it up," she bravely said, 
 
 "My playfellows among." 
 So she went and asked the wind 
 
 That frolicked with her hair, 
 "Pray tell me wind, if you have seen 
 
 My lost smile anywhere." 
 
 The wind roared loudly to the child : 
 
 "Not I, not I, indeed; 
 'Tis strange how people lose their smiles, 
 
 I think they should take heed. 
 But I may hunt it up for you, 
 
 I travel everywhere ; 
 And if you get it back again 
 
 Be very careful, dear." 
 
 She wandered by the babbling brook 
 
 Where little minnows run. 
 "Pray tell me brooklet, if you stole 
 
 Away my smile, for fun?" 
 "Not I, indeed," the brooklet said, 
 
 "Your smile I do not need; 
 The sun brings thousands every day 
 
 My sparkling mood to feed." 
 
 "Bright sun," she said, with wistful glance, 
 
 "You look so high and wise, 
 Kindly tell me if you stole 
 
 My smile for a surprise." 
 
90 California and Other Poems 
 
 "Sweet little maiden," said the sun, 
 "The raindrops form my bow 
 
 Of smiles so bright and beautiful ; 
 They are all I want, you know." 
 
 "Oh dear me," cried the little one, 
 
 Shaking her weary head, 
 "I will not find it, Vm afraid, 
 
 Before I go to bed. 
 But I must search and search, and search, 
 
 The wide w^orld up and down 
 For when we lose our sunny smile 
 
 We are very apt to frown." 
 
 She entered then a cottage door 
 
 Where lay a little child 
 Asleep upon the lap of Death, 
 
 And lo ! the infant smiled ! 
 "Ah, cruel Death," she cried in tears, 
 
 "You are the thief I know. 
 Who robs the living of their smiles 
 
 To deck your sleepers so." 
 
 To this Death answered deep and low : 
 
 "My children weep no more, 
 And therefore look more beautiful 
 
 And smiling than before ; 
 And from earth's fairest gardens 
 
 The choicest buds we take. 
 For sleeping ones to play with 
 
 W^henever they awake." 
 
California and Other Poems 91 
 
 Beside a stream old Mother Time 
 
 Wove locks of silver hair. 
 ''It may be," thought the child, 
 
 ''She weaves my bright smile over there." 
 And then she timidly drew near, 
 
 And said, "Dear Mother Time, 
 Somebody stole my sunny smile, 
 
 Can vou detect the crime?" 
 
 "I cannot, child," said Mother Time, 
 "My work, you see, is slow, 
 
 I keep Forgetfulness and Hope 
 My errands all to do; 
 
 But my good neighbor Wisdom 
 May guide you on the way 
 
 To where your sunny smile is gone. 
 
 I wish you now, good day." 
 
 "Dear W^isdom, can you help me find 
 
 A treasure I have lost? 
 I've heard that you are always kind, 
 
 When people need you most." 
 But Wisdom gravely answered, 
 
 "Dear child, I cannot do 
 Aught in the way of finding smiles : 
 
 I teach folks what to know." 
 
 "I wish I knew," the child exclaimed. 
 
 "Experience teaches best, 
 I will arise and go to her — 
 
 The sun sinks in the west." 
 
92 California and Other Poems 
 
 Experience looked up with a smile, 
 **I live to make folks wise," 
 
 She said, ''but very few indeed, 
 Behold things with my eyes. 
 
 ''Go home and you will find a smile 
 
 Awaiting your return, 
 It is no use when things are lost 
 
 To make ado and mourn. 
 'Tis better to keep constant watch 
 
 Than run ten miles around 
 In search of what our folly lost 
 
 That never can be found." 
 
 So home again the maiden ran, 
 
 Weary, worn and sad. 
 And for the friends who greeted her 
 
 No sunny smile she had. 
 "She was so bright and beautiful." 
 
 She heard the people say, 
 "Whatever has come over her? 
 
 She must have gone astray." 
 
 BETWEEN. 
 
 (For Decoration Day.) 
 
 I stood 'neath the star-gemmed heavens 
 Beside the graves of my dead. 
 
 Anguish too deep for weeping, 
 Its gloom o'er my spirit shed. 
 
California and Other Poems 93 
 
 I cried to the depths of azure 
 
 The burden of my pain: — 
 "Great soul of this awful vastness, 
 
 Shall my loved ones live again?" 
 
 Silence above and beneath me. 
 
 Only the moaning wind 
 Rustling the cypress branches 
 
 With touches soft and kind. 
 The flowers glanced up in pity, 
 
 Methought, in the moonlight cold, 
 Like sympathizing children 
 
 When sorrowful tales are told. 
 
 But from above no answer, 
 
 And from below no sound. 
 I stood in the awful silence — 
 
 Infinity around. 
 'T loved them," I moaned in sorrow. 
 
 ''Shall I never, never more 
 Behold them some fair morrow 
 
 On this, or some other shore?" 
 
 "You loved them," a soft voice echoed 
 
 The silences between; 
 "Love keepeth its own forever. 
 
 The unseen within the seen. 
 Enshrined in the hearts of the living 
 
 The loved ones forever dwell, 
 And the Heart of the Great Eternal 
 
 Alone can Death's secret tell." 
 
94 California and Other Poems 
 
 THE LAST INVESTMENT. 
 
 (A Poem for Labor Day.) 
 
 Four little bits of babies, 
 
 The oldest scarcely five, 
 Were huddled in a corner, 
 
 More dead than they were alive. 
 The mother, pale and weary, 
 
 Sat brooding o'er the case, 
 With hunger gnawing at her heart, 
 
 And tears upon her face. 
 
 A step upon the threshold. 
 
 Averts her drooping eyes; 
 ''What news of work, my husband?" 
 
 And slowly he replies, 
 *'It is the same all over; 
 
 No work, no hope, no trust; 
 I've made my last investment; 
 
 The babes must have a crust." 
 
 They gazed on one another : 
 Intelligent surprise 
 
 Explained to each the purpose, 
 ' Told only by the eyes. 
 
 ' The water rent was called for, 
 
 • The gas bill overdue, 
 
 • The house rent ; well, God pity ! 
 ^"^. W^hatever would they do? 
 
California and Other Poems 95 
 
 The strong man, in his manhood, 
 
 Bowed down his head, and wept! 
 " 'Tis not my fault, my darling, 
 
 That I've not better kept 
 The vow I made to cherish" — 
 
 Then starting to his feet: 
 ''The children will not hunger 
 
 Upon the golden street." 
 
 Next day a neighbor found them, 
 
 Beyond the reach of woe; 
 Where 'mid the trees of healing, 
 
 The living waters flow. 
 The gas bill counted higher, 
 
 But it would have to wait; 
 And if good times are coming, 
 
 To some thev come too late. 
 
 LINES ON AN IRISH DAISY. 
 
 Stranger, though to you it seemeth 
 
 But a little faded thing, 
 I can love it for the memories 
 
 That around it fondly cling. 
 I can kiss its drooping eyelids, 
 
 Bathe with tears its eye of gold; 
 Do you wonder at my weeping? 
 
 Wait until my tale is told. 
 
96 California and Other Poems 
 
 In fair fields beyond the ocean 
 
 I have seen the daisies grow, 
 Without any deep emotion 
 
 I have chained them in a row, 
 Round the fair neck of my sister, 
 
 Round my little brother's hat, 
 In my native sunny meadows 
 
 I have toyed with flowers like that. 
 
 Mother, in our twilight rambles. 
 
 Always bore them in her hand ; 
 Father gathered us a bouquet 
 
 When in spring he ploughed the land. 
 Sister Anna culled this flower 
 
 From the green sod where it grew, 
 With its modest face uplifted. 
 
 Keeping heaven still in view. 
 
 Thus across the wide, wild ocean, 
 
 On a wintry voyage come, 
 It has brought to me a message 
 
 From the loving ones at home. 
 Oh ! what tender thoughts awaken. 
 
 As I hold it in my hand ; 
 Thoughts of home and happy childhood, 
 
 Thoughts of God and fatherland. 
 
fr.'.^!?l^'^Y O"^ CONGRESS 
 
 018 349 319 A 
 
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