IPS 3531 .P39 B3 1907 I Copy 1 IttlVtHitltltllt Class J.?S Ml Book .^19BA-_ 19 7 fapi^hrN" ^ COPYRIGHT DEPOSm BALLADS, LYRICS AND SONNETS. Ballads, Lyrics and Sonnets WILLIAM FRANCIS PALMER CLEVELAND PRINTED FOR THE AUTHOR MCMVH lUBRARYofCONar.ESS i Two Copies KecsivcC DEC 12 1907 /V^ op>(-i«rii tntry ^ XXc. Wu, COPY 6. Copyright, 1907, by Wm. F. Palmer This link volume is affectionately dedi- cated to Dr. Wilbert B. Hinsdale. Ann Arbor, Michigan, the inspirer of my youth and the friend of my manhood. Prefatory Note. TTHE Poems included in this little volume have * all been written within three years, and most of them with no idea of publication. They are given in about their chronological order. In connection with the teaching and study of the noble poetry of the language, their composition has been a pleasurable pastime, and a valued means of self-culture. It may be possible for the critic to detect sources of influence and he will be able even to recognize here and there words and phrases as familiar friends, for ''Quae summa sunt, ex quo fonte hauriam sentio;"but I trust there is enough individuality about the poems to justify their ex- istence. Many of them have alread}^ given such pleasure to my pupils and immediate friends that I have been encouraged to offer them to a wider circle of readers. I desire to acknowledge the helpful suggestions of my wife, and of my colleagues,' Miss Helen L. Storke and David P. Simpson, who have kindly read many of the poems in manuscript and whose refined taste and poetic sense have made them better than they otherwise would have been. WILLIAM FRANCIS PALMER. West High School, Cleveland, Ohio, Oct. 21, 1907. CONTENTS. THEN AND NOW 1 SWEET CONTENT 6 WE ARE BUILDERS 8 AN IDYL 13 AN ELEGY 16 MEMORIAL DAY— An Ode 27 THE LAST DAY OF SCHOOL 30 EUADORA— A Ballad 33 EVENING TIME 39 LINES FOR THE ANNUAL RICHFIELD REUNION 41 ALICE FELL 48 LUCY MOORELAND 52 SIR TANCRED 54 MINGLING WATERS 58 THE EMPTY NEST 60 MABEL— Four Pictures 62 SAINT BRANDAN 64 IN SCHOOL DAYS 70 A SERENADE 7Z THE COUNTRY DOCTOR 75 PREFACE— A Note Book in English Literature . . 81 MY BIRTHDAY 83 THE FIRST ANNIVERSARY— A Song 87 THE SOUTH-WIND— An Ode 88 LEONARD AND LENORA 90 TO AN INFANT 94 ONCE AND FOREVER 96 HOME FROM BATTLE 100 THE RIVER OF TIME 102 ROCKY RIVER 103 THE MILLER'S DAUGHTER 104 MY MOTHER 109 ETHEL WENTWORTH 112 IN MEMORY OF MRS. THEODORE H. JOHNSTON 115 THE UNKNOW SEA 116 VACATION DAYS— Rocky River 117 OHIO 120 SCHOOL DAYS 122 THE FUNERAL OF AN OLD LADY 126 O COOLING BREEZE— A Song 128 A TEAR 130 JUNIATA— A Ballad 135 SLEEP— A Sonnet 132 DEATH— A Sonnet 133 THE VIOLET— A Sonnet 134 THE FORSAKEN GARDEN— A Sonnet 140 THEN AND NOW. How fugitive the tleeting years That fly on feathery wing ! As quick the man from youth appears As o^row the leaves in spring. My boyhood home, in valley green. Knew hills and low^ing kine ; And through a gladd'ning vista seen Its sacred portals shine. The lordly elms, the towering oak Seemed reaching close to Heaven; The jagged clouds that floating broke By foruKs unseen were driven. The winding hills and hedges green. That compassed boyhood's day. Restrained mine eyes from all unclean And shut the ill awav. The Bible lay an open book Upon the table there ; Its pictnred saint and Satan's look In memory ever Avear. I read of fair Jndea's hills AVhere shepherds watched by iiight I learned of Jordan's snowy rills That course from Hermon's height. I learned of days so long agone When Enoch walked with God ; When Adam watched creation's dawn From Eden's grassy sod. A mother's love, a father's care. Unchanged as polar star. Kept guard against the baneful snare That threatened me afar. The parson lived a holy life, His prayer was sweet to hear ; His pious words with good were rife, It seemed that God was near. [21 He showed his people how to live, He told them how to die ; The kindly word, his wont to give, Would hire them toward the sky. Xot deeply versed in wisdom's lore, Xor art nor science knew, But tender hearts the neighbors bore, In trouble they were true. Their church was plain, the aisles they trod Were bare but clean of stain ; They thought the dwelling ])lace of God Our human hearts contain. But since to man's estate I've groAvn And wandered up and down, I've asked for bread but found a stone And met the scornful frown. I've seen the city's crowded way And watched its greedy strife; I've seen a brother made of clay Disdain his fellow's life. [3] I've studied books whose mighty scope Nor time nor age can bound, " They took from me the simple hope Sustaining sweet I found. Anon r tread with heart contrite The quiet aisles of prayer ; But Mammon casts his sickening blight On all the Lord deems fair. And now I feel toward life's decline I'd rather go and stay Among my herd of lowing kine And wake my boyhood's day. I choose those ties with humble men. Of generous charity. Who think that all their fellow-men Are one in destiny. I long to hear the songs of birds Whose notes gush from the heart ; I'm weary of the guileful words That pain in human mart. 141 I'd rather hold the simple faith, Aloof from creed or shrine, That teaches goodness of the heart Is surely half divine. [5] SWEET CONTENT. Dost thou covet coins of gold? They would cause thee pain and care, They would make thee gray and old, They would all thy peace impair. Pools for golden numbers rush, Envy, hate, their lives perplex; Friend and foe will o 'er them gush ; Both will cling till panic wrecks. Sweet content with restful slumbers, After days of honest toil, Is a boon which golden numbers Cannot buy but will despoil. With the freest bounty given Come our sweetest, truest pleasures; Rays of sunshine, air of heaven, Are among earth's choicest treasures. In the peasant's humble cottage, Near the bubbling spring condign, AVith its fare of leeks and pottage, Fair Hygeia rears her shrine. See him toiling there apace Singing o'er his humble lay; ]\lark his honest cheerful face. AVho the lord he need obevf [7] WE ARE BUILDERS. Round about us grows a city, Wider out her bounds she pushes ; Clo:.er, closer grow her houses In a hundred spreading portions. Higher up her brick and mortar Reach toward the blue of noonday; Deeper in earth's sandy bosom Sink her rocky strong foundations. She is building for the future. She is building walls of grauite, She is building for our children With a breadth of civic vision Never seen in all her hist'ry. Into all her wid'ning harbors Come the craft of heavier lading. From her smoky mills and fact'ries She is sending out her products To be used in distant countries [8] Far across \]u' waves of ocean. Nobly built our sleeping fathers, But the wildest of their dreaming Never led them to believe that We could reach our present limits, Though we've just begun our growing. What's the part in this expansion That our school should aim at taking"? Who shall rule this mighty city With its souls a million nearing? Who shall feel its pulse wiien throbbing? Who shall raise its moral standards ? Who shall do its work all honest? Who shall grace and sweetly brighten All its pretty homes now rearing? Surely men of larger moulding. Wider vision, deeper insight, Keener conscience, higher morals, Will be needed in the future Than the years late by-gone wanted. We shall need some sweeter women, Broader minded, better trained. Who will love to rock the cradle [9] of a stronger, nobler manhood. J^nt not all with skill can iiuide us. Some must toil in gloomy narrows Where no light, save that within them, Can a beacon be in darkness. Here be often found the heroes That are never sung' by poets, And in hist'ry are unwritten; But whose names on fairer pages Are engraved in golden letters. In the past the noble sages Used to think the human spirit Was a spark of heavenly essence By the breath of gods enkindled. Then perhaps, the struggling dullard. With his grasp on books so feeble, In the world may work some wonder Through this fire his soul is tempered. He may prove the strongest helper Where the way of life is toilsome. With his courage great and dauntless He may lead a chosen people; He ma^'^ be a mighty bulwark ; [10] In some firavc and awful crisis. The material for this biiildiii>' jack-knife oft dissected: The master's portrait on the board Ilis angi'y look inspected. T.et\s hear the shouts of children wild Ujion the grassy yard — Our voices that long since were stilled Hy life's experience hard. Rebuild again the parish church By raging fire consumed And show the pastor's reverend form On yonder hill entombed. 144] For three and twenty years he ])rayecl For erring- sinners' aid: His life was lived Avithout a stain His faith ahove was staid. When tronhle, sickness, or dismay His little tlock distressed 'I'hroiiiih nuid and snow, or rain or shine. His joiu'ney fast he j)ressed. By beds of pain he often stood. Yv^hen souls from clay depart : And pointing- to a brighter world Sweet peace he world impart. Among the first his eyes to ga.^^e T'jjon our infant rest: He marked the likeness to our sire. AVith prayer our mother blest. Xo thought had he for gain or pelf. He had no earthly aim : His task to eheei" the broken heart. The wanderer to i-eclaim. 1 45 I The arm that blew the village forge AVhen we were boys at school, And raised aloft the ponderous sledge, Has dropped its heavy tool. His anvil rings by other hands, By other boys is heard ; A granite shaft reared o'er the spot Shows where he was interred. So we today as strangers come Unto our native seat; A race of aliens here have we And few we knew we meet. And where are they we miss today? Oh, they have gone away! We read their dates npon the stone And know they're gone away. If we should tell them by their names- Those on the farther shore — Outnumbered would the living be By several hundred more. [46] On yonder Eastern hill they sleep Where soft "\ve laid them down; Or where the beams of setting sun Bright flush the Western town. The violets in their season bloom Above their lowly beds; The chestnut in the August wind Its feathery blossom sheds. Reunion ! 'Tis an idle word ; We cannot have it here. This is a darkling-, dying vale Where falls the trickling tear. AYe can but trust the larger hope By prophets long foretold. That in a brighter, better clime Reunions true we'll hold. [471 ALICE FELL. Nine srmiiiers knew sweet Alice Fell — All ()v]y eliiJd was she; A»i(I dwell iiiii' on m lonely road Was kno^^'n by fe^v bnt ine. No hniiian ]^laYiiiates Alice had, She dwelt so far away ; But timid rabbits loved her voice And near her oft would play. The herds of barnyard animals Were creatures of her will ; They'd let her smooth their o'lossy sides With hand that meant no ill. Kind nature in a j^eiieroiis mood Had richly dowered her head, A thousand clustei'ini>- ring-lets there Their lustrous beantv shed. [48] She grew like some wild desert flower Upon a lonely moor; Her beauty, orace and loveliness Would suit an angel pure. One eve in sultry August time She crossed the river Blee To spend the night at Uncle John's The evening queen to be. And many Avere the gathered guests That saw her play the queen; And through her wavy ringlets fair They twined the myrtle green. But mid those festive .joys that night An aAvfnl storm arose: Intensest blackness veiled the stars And ow^ls their coverts chose. It seemed that oceans from the sky Descended in an hour ; And wildly rushed the swelling floods In madness to devour. [49] One thought alone was Alice Fell's — Were parents safe at home? In spite of darkness of the night, In spite of river's foam, This slender child nine summers old Her steps swift homeward bent; Not fleeter bounds the mountain roe Pursued by hounds intent. But when the sun at morning rose, Above the fleeing cloud, A bridgeless river Blee was seen With torrent roaring loud. Her footprints all so wide apart Her uncle followed plain ; He traced them to the buttressed bank Where further trace was vain. Though thirty years have come and gone Since Alice played the queen. She dwells a lovely memory there Of something not terrene. [50] The cruel Blee still onward rolls, But casts a sadd 'ning spell ; Its heavy current running chants The dirge of Alice Fell. 51 LUCY MORELAND. The moon in her silent splendor Was guiding: the steeds of night When up from the balmy southland Was wafted a vision bright. A vision it was of Lucy That came to my slumb'ring soul. Of beautiful Lucy Mooreland Who back from the shadows stole. She stayed but a tieeting moment Then vanished away in air — She vanished away and left me Alone to my worldly care. Away in the sunny southland Two children were wont to play, The beautiful Lucy Mooreland And I, little Philip Gray. [52] We loved with a love most tender It seemed from the day of birth ; Our joy was the joy of heaven. Forbidden to be on earth. And this was the reason, I know, A blast from the eastern sea Bk^w dank on my tender blossom And reft her away from me. T^ut oft in my quiet slumbers She steals from the realm of shades And comes as the dew in softness That falls on the tiny blades. No power with the "'uardian angels Xo fiend with his Stygian band, Can stay the swift flights of Lucy AVho speeds from the spirit land. [531 SIR TANCRED. Sir Tancred was a cavalier In Old Virginia 's day ; He came from rugged Scotia drear Hard by the Firth of Tay. Of years he had a score and three His locks were black as coal; His eye, so frank and clear to see, Bespoke a generous soul. He had a noble ancestry Of earls and dukes and peers, A high and boasted pedigree Which ran for many years. A broad and rolling acreage Coiu'sed by Potomac 's flood, A thousand slaves as heritage, All his by right of blood. 541 TTis shoulders decked with epaulets Shone as the Afric suns, They caught the eye of sweet brunettes Where slow Potomac runs. All maids in Old Virginia's day Would gladly been his bride; But heedlessly he turned away, Their blandishments denied. Ere yet he'd reached his seventh year His father chose his bride — The daughter of a noble peer With riches laid aside. But far across the ocean wild, Beside the Firth of Tay, There dwelt a blonde — a peasant child— Whose name was Tillie Gray. Her eyes were blue as heaven above And g:olden was her hair ; To her Sir Tancred vowed his love In childhood's mornino" fair. [55] So now across the heaving main Sir Tanered sailed his way, His vessel bore no lordly train From ont the Ches'peake bay. Alone went forth the gallant knight Upon the rolling main, Nor ire of sire conld him affright Nor lordly blood enchain. He went to claim his chosen bride, Plis jonrney well begun; No more should ocean far divide Two hearts that beat as one. His ship, her pennons flaunting gay, Bore toward her destined goal ; But at the entrance of the Tay She struck a rocky shoal. A dismal shroud of heavy mist Hung dense o'er Albion's isle; The watchful pilot he had missed The channel half a mile. In through her prow the jagged reef An ugly hole had bored [561 And life for all on board was brief, For cruel waters poured. On this side of Atlantic's stream Long sat a sonless sire ; The subject of his fondest dream Slept in the ocean's mire. But from the sea 's. wild eastern shore He brought sweet Tillie Gray, Who just a little while before ITer parents laid away. She was his min 'string angel sweet In gloomy hours of ill. Not readier were a daughter's feet His every want to still. And ere Sir Tancred's sire had died On slow Potomac's shore, His all to that intended bride He willed forevermore. Tu fields of cotton bloss'ming fair, 'Xeath darkened labor's sway, The sweetest songs that float the air Are those of Tillie Gray. [57] MINGLING WATERS. I was standing^ near the sunset Of a mild October day Where a brook with purling waters Joined the Rhine's majestic sway. Long' had been its fretful journey In its narrow winding bed; It was weary of its pebbles. Weary of the life it led. It had longed for greater freedom. Longed to mirror on its breast All the cloudlets sailing o'er it With its waters more at rest. And I noticed as I watched it, In a kind of dreamy state, How its current ceased to ripple, How it died away bv fate. 581 Vet tlie mighty rolling river Did not change its wonted course; On it tlowed and flows forever, Farther, farther from its source. And I said, '^0 human spirit! Welling from thy fount divine, Thou hast streamed for countless ages. Thou art greater than the Ehine. "Let my frail and weak existence Mingle with thy current wide ; I Avould die as do these ripples On thy pure and argent tide." [59] THE EMPTY NEST. 'TAvas late in November And chilly the breeze; The leaves had all fallen A down from the trees. A nest in a lilac All desolate swung Where wrens in the summer Had cheeped to their young. A mother at evening Sat watching the nest; But only a mem'ry Arose in her breast, A mem'ry more precious Than jasper or gold Of dear little cherubs That slipped from her fold. 160] They went in the morning, Unfaded by care, They went in their pureness, Ere sin could ensnare. Like buds with their sweetness All folded within They waited to blossom Till Heaven should begin. 61 MABEL. FOUR FICTUr^ES When blushes of morning Bedecked her sweet face, 'Twas then that I met her, Beginning life's race. Mid blossoms of lilies That bloomed on her way She sang with a heart that Was lighter than they. I saw her soft beauty Again at eighteen When girlhood was fading And stately her mein. Her rich auburn tresses Were twined in a braid The hopes of fond lovers Were fast an her staid. [62] Years after I saw her As mother held dear; The comfort of husband, In sorrow his cheer. Her heart was more tender, More steadfast her will ; The sweetness of May-time She kept Avith her still. Though now she is eighty And wrinkled with care, Her eye like the twilight Is lustrous and fair. She sits by the river. Is holding The Book, AVith trust in her Savior And hope in her look. [63] SAINT BKANDAN. In the city of Modena, Many many years ago, Dwelt a monk by name St. Brandan And his hair was white as snow. In that quiet, gloomy cloister He had stayed for thirty years, Begging of the Lord for mercy. Seeking pardon with his tears. Up to heaven his prayers ascended Morning, noon, and dewy night ; And his long and tapering fingers Sought to count his beads aright. 'Gainst his weary soul the billows Of his sins swept evermore; And he seemed a shipwrecked sailor Destined ne'er to reach the shore. [64] Oh the depth of bitter anguish That this human sonl distressed ! Oh how piteous were his pleading's To the ear of Heaven addressed ! On the monldering: walls about him Crept the ivy unrestrained ; And without a land of beauty Which his sunken eyes disdained. Thirty years had plowed their furrows On his pale and wasted face. When to him the angel Pity Glided from the Throne of Grace : ''Wouldst thou know, O poor St. Brandan. What the Lord desires of thee? Xeedless all thy cries for mercy. Since His mercy's full and free. ''In the dark and tangled mazes Of thine own weak human heart Thou dost form a monstrous being And thy passions all impart. [65] "Him thou thronest in the heavens. Ruling with His rod of hate; Silken priests His wrath averting From the poor's enfamished state. "Dumb the lips of holy Pythia Which Apollo long inspired; Leveled now those pagan Altars, Which the flowing blood required. "Long the oaks that stand majestic On Dodona's rugged brows Have forgot that mystic sentence Which replied to human vows. "Thus it is that down the ages, Where the stream of progress flows. Human thought of God has altered As its creed the mind outgrows. "Art thou sure thy gloomy fancies Are not fleeting quite as theyl Will they not like ancient Themis Or Apollo have their day ? 66] "High above thy throned picturing Love hath made her fountain cell. liaise thy faith to light and freedom Toward her gleaming' citadel. "Can the great Eternal Goodness Take delight in human pain ? Can a narroAV, gloomy cloister ]\ratch the Avideness of His reign ? "Thou canst know His love and mercy From the soaring sparrow's flight; Thou canst see His glory written In the spangled stars of night. "Thou canst see His ix)wer and greatness In the swirling worlds of space; Thou canst know His sense of beauty Froiu the lily's spotless face. "He would have no faue or cloister Which proclaims the builder's fame; In the hearts of all His children He would see love's taper flame. 67] ''He would have no costly temple Mid the hovels of the poor ; Of the souls by sin encumbered He requires no silver pure. ' ' What He meant for human comfort Thou dost make a burden sore ; All the gold the world possesses Cannot make His riches more. ''What cares He for sounding timbrels And the organ's pealing strains? His the chants of angel seraphs Moving in their choric trains. "What cares He for gilded ceilings Which your paintings rich adorn? His the glories of the sunset And the hues of summer morn. "What cares He for smoke of incense Clouding all thy somber day? His the clouds with silver lining And the haze of milky- way. [68] "Was it meant that all the beauty And the grandeur of the skies Could to souls but work perdition If they view them with their eyes "Then within thy dingy cloister Tarry not another day, I have come from highest heaven To reveal this better way. ''Leave thy ghastly, dreadful relics Which bespeak a Savior dead; Seek His spirit still that liveth, To the deed of kindness wed. "Not a plea for light or guidance Was to Him e 'er raised in vain ; But thy pompous creed and ritual Only please the human brain. "There alone the church eternal. There alone religion's core, Where a helping hand extendeth To the Lazarus at thy door." [69] IN SCHOOL DAYS. My memory back o'er fading days E 'er wings a readier flight ; With passing years more fond it stays Mid scenes of early sight. Life's long and length 'ning vista still. At gleaming farther end. Reveals the school-house on tlu^ iiill Those beeches yet befriend. Within the shade their branches made. At noontide's sultry heat. The troops of red-cheeked children ])layed, Their happiness complete. Olivia lit my passion's spark, Her face my heart enslaved; High up the beech with smoothest bark Her name I deep engraved. [70] I trudged with her at close of school Across the fallow lea; .Afid glimmering" shades of evening cool She dearer grew to me. ller books I bore a precious mile Along the homew^ard way; And vivid still the kindly smile That told the close of day. Keluctant was the leave we took xVt parting of the ways, And followed each with fondest look Along the leveled rays. One eve my boyish fancy broke, I could not hold it down ; To her the tender word I spoke, It met a dainty frowm. How blest the flow of happy love Whose fount those journeys home, Still warming like the sun above On land or ocean's foam! [71] More blessed by me the school-house gray Than all the world beside, It made my life one happy day, It gave to me my bride. [72] A SERENADE. My dream was of thee, sweet Love, In the early hours of night, ^ly slumbering soul was filled With the joy of strange delight. My dream was so restful. Love, That I fain would slept till morn, ^ly heart that was vexed by day Of its burdens then was shorn. My head it was leaning, Love, On th}^ bosom soft and white; Thine eyes they were beaming down, Like the stars of doAvy night. I came up the valley. Love, When the winds were breathing low; I wait for thy chamber light In the sinking moonbeam's glow. [73] AOy thoughts are still true, sweet Love, As I pledged iieath the hawthorn tree, Rifeturn to thy pillow soft / And there sweetly dream of me. [74] THE COrXTKY DOCTOR. 'Twas night on the moor of Gletiearuie And black was the face of the skj^; The elements raved and were wanton And l)linding the snow to the eye; One traveller alone on the highway The tempest had dared to defy. AAvay on the desolate highlands. Across the wild stretches of moor, This traveller was bound for a cottage Where languished the child of the poor The winter was hard in Glencarnie. His labor was free he was sure. Hut spite of the snow that was drifting And cold that was freezing the breath. The Doctor, an angel of mercy. Sped on to his battle with death. Sped on like a knight in his armor O'er fens that were frozen beneath. He entered the poor lowly cottage Whose walls were denuded and bare; And then there arose from the mother A wail of the deepest despair — "Oh Doctor! yon saved Myrtle Angus, Oh save our dear Mary so fair!" ' ' Her fever burns hot like a furnace, Her pulse is as full as the sea ; But cease your long Availing, dear Avoman, One chance in a thousand has she. Go close your red eyelids so weary And leave your sick darling Avith me." All night by the bed of lone Mary He fought like a hero to save; He fought the fell demon of fever In Mary half sunk in the grave ; With AA^ater that gushed from the springlet i\Iost tender her form he Avould lave. [76] And just as the morning was breaking A slumber, both natural and sweet. Stole softly upon the pale sleeper And told of the fever's defeat. Her breath was as odors of perfume That steal from a rose's retreat. And then ere he took his departure He called the fond mother to see What change had been wrought in her dar- ling, Who slept like a calm on the sea; Who slept like the sea in the moonlight AAHien zephyrs of eventide flee. The day that was dawning was Christmas, The dearest that happened in years ; For now in the cot of Glencarnie Their joy was the limit of tears. Their gift was the presence of Mary, The end of their anguish and fears. [771 The day that next followed was Suiidav The day of thanksgiving and prayer, And up to the church of the parish. The streams of the people repair. To ask the dear Lord for His mercy And lielp foi* theij- l)n!'d('iis to beai'. The minister thanked Him for ]\Iary. AVho close to the border had lain ; For him, their beloved physician. Who banished her fever ard pain. Whose visits bronght healing in sickness. Who comfoi'ts bestov/ed like the rain. The hand of the Doctor was nughty. His touch was as soft as the dew; His voice v/as a tonic to weakness Most magic witli ho}ie to endue; His skill Vv'as long tried in Glencarnie More dear to the people he grew. 178] He'd held the pale hands of their dying, When shadows were thick 'ning their gloom He'd felt the deep pangs of their sorrow When flowerets were losing their bloom He'd been to them closer than any When hovered the shades of the tomb. One day mid the snows of December The Doctor, grown aged and ill. Grown old with the burdens he'd carried. Was borne to his rest on the hill. To sleep till the Great Resurrection With patients whose slumbers were still. No fnneral like that in Glencarnie Had ever been witnessed before ; Xo eye in the parish nnmoistened When him to his slumber they bore. They buried him there 'neath the wallow Whose branches still weep and deplore. \79\ But up to the place they call Heaven, Whose gates, we are told, are pure white, I know his kind spirit ascended To dwell as an angel of light. To live the strange life not incarnate In realms where there cometh no night. [80] PREFACE. A NOTE BOOK IN ENGLISH LITERA TURE. Xo dress of costh'" binding rare Adorns this form of mine ; But here upon my pages fair These names immortal shine. The choicest spirits ever brought. Upon this world of ours. Have here revealed their noblest thought, Have strown. their sweetest flowers. A preciors legacy I hold — Old Albion's chief est fame. For greater than her wealth of gold Is Shakesi)eare's mighty name. [81] No mood that haunts the human heart, In shifting worlds of time, But here can find its counterpart Expressed in deathless rhyme. These need no tribute to their worth, No artless flower to fade ; They left below a brighter earth And Heaven richer made. Dear friends, sweet friends, the gliding year Speeds down his swift incline. For memories sweet we drop a tear No more our faults repine. f82] MV lURTHDAY. Beneath October's rustling leaves ]\ry latest year lies dead; Mid falling' beauty of the trees Its joys and trials are fled. No more are mine the happy hours Whose sands have ebbed away. Like tints upon the garden flowers They could not longer stay. 1 would not count new whitened hairs. Xor deep'ning wrinkles trace, 1 only wish the baneful tares Would hide their ugly face. J mourn not like the sei]seless trees. Bereft of verdure green ; Mine eye with pleasure rather sees The truth before unseen. 1 83 1 For much that wore a gilded hue. To youth's aspiring eye, Has to the more experienced view But proved a hollow lie. The gold of life I've learned to seek In still sequestered ways; Its home is not the mountain peak Though flushed by morning rays. The envious years no charm can take From Nature's I'ich bequest; In beauty still her mornings break As fair her radiant west. The stars that sparkle in the night, And stud the heavens blue, Ne'er beamed with rays of softer light When vines in Eden grew. Trne love is lasting as the sun, As w^arming as its ray; And that in youth which made us one Hath 3^et its joyous May. [84] A happy fireside is mine, Kind voices speak my name, And love that mirrors the divine This eve emits its flame. The care o'er infant's troubled rest, That banished slumber sweet, Is yielding noble interest In plump and rounded wheat. And still though dimmer grows the sight More steadfast be my will, And brighter shine the spirit's light Upon life's western hill. As fruits hang softening on the tree 'Neath bright October's sky. So may my heart more mellow be, As fast the seasons fly. While feeling keenly still the pains The fleeting years have brought, Dear memories twine their golden chains With, sweetest comfort fraught. [85] Shall he, Avho sailed the stormy mere Undecked by emerald palms, Be faint at heart Avhile drawing near The qniet zone of calms" Let softly dip my shallop oar And steady ride the spar, When pulling' near the peaceful shore Behind the harbor bar. [86] THE FIRST ANNIVERSARY. A SONG. woof of Summer's weaving Bright mottled in the sky! Your golden tints now leaving Are dear to Memory's eye. Oh spreading boughs of elm tree That east your deepening shade! One year ago beneath ye Was my betrothal made. moonlight soft and tender To 3^outhful love entice! You shone with silent splendor Upon our paradise. Oh starlight sheen of silver That fills the heavenly space ! Your slanting rays fell on her And lit a seraph face. O heart with mine now beating A full and rounded j^ear! You heard my low entreating; Abide foi^ever near. THE SOUTH- WIND. AN ODE. I come from away in tropics gay Where the wandering breezes blow, Where lilies of white e'er bloom in siiiht Of the widening river's flow. ]\Iy pinions are high for eagle's eye As I speed through the boundless space And bless with my showers the thirsty flowers When they droop in their withered grace. The balm of my breath compels fell death To release from his icy hold The watery streams in their wintery dreams As they stay in their channels old. I ser.d the life blood to swelling bud On the naked and lonely bough And bring forth the leaves on all the trees Like a mystical king, I trow. The ni.usic of bird with gladness heard, III the beautiful days of spring, [88] I briiiii' from the glade of forest shade As I come on my airy Aving. And sluinheriiig hills with their frozen rills And their breasts of dunnest hue 1 clothe in deep green with hand nnseen Ki-e 1 iiiount to the heavens blue. My clarion 1 l)low o'er meadows Ioav Like a Gabriel o'er the dead; And life from the cold of sluggish mold Hears my notes from his lowly bed. I sweep up the shores where ocean roars When its bursting tides run full; The clouds I upbear on my airy chair With their mountains of whitened wool. The odoi's of night in the starry light I waft o'er a sleeping w^orld, And seal up the lair of human care With the balm from my wings unfurled. I Hit on the lake in the moonbeam's wake When the whispering wavelets slee]) And i)lay on the lyre with my tuneful choir Where the leaves of the willow weep. [89] LEONAED AND LENOKA. Shone the evening star with brightness When the time of meeting came, Sat alone the lorn Lenora Thinking on her lover's name; All alone she sat and waited And her thoughts were e'er the same. Anxious then the lorn Lenora Oft in anguish wrung her hands : "Can mischance have him befallen On his journey o'er the sands? ('an it be my faithful Leonard Dying lies in foreign lands? "Can that heart that beat so warmly All its passion now disown? Can his love for me be colder For some reason yet unknown ? Was it but a fleeting fancy Now to other maiden shown?" [90] These the tlioughts that surged within her As she pondered in her room, Listening if perchance his footsteps Might be heard amid the gloom. But ah no ! the silence lasted Like the silence of the tomb. But before her tired eyesight Passed a vision of her dear. And his voice familiar, real, Seemed now wafted to her ear. Wafted by some strange enchantment From the ocean wide and drear. ''(Jh my love, my love forever I Oceans wide between ns roll And an Afric moon with beauty Silent glimmers on my soul, (xlimmers through my prison v. in(h)w Riding near her middle goal. [91 ''Hast-e thee now to greet thy lover Whom the prison walls confine; Haste thee ere his wasting body To earth's bosom they consign, Where no ray of heavenly sunlight Shall again upon him shine. 'SShouldst thou say unto the keeper, At the iron postern gate, Thou hadst come to see thy Leonard In his sad and lone estate, He will sure, though grim and surly. Thy heart wishes kindly sate." Then at eve upon the billows Of Atlantic 's lordly stream Quick embarked the noble maiden For the object of her dream, Seeking with true heart devoted Her dear Leonard to redeem. [92] Swiftly sped the mighty vessel Night and day before the gale. Carrying on her throbbing bosom Lorn Lenora, fair and pale. And her stanncli and mighty timbers Left a deep and whitened trail. Bnt this stainieh and mighty vessel Never reached the farther shore: On the rocks she struck and fonndered Where the ocean eagles soar — Fonndered mid the mountain billows "Where no ])OAver conld save her more. This was night, and dark the billows By Mt. Blanco's rugged side. Floating there on troubled waters. Falling, rising with the tide, Was the form of lorn Lenora. By the morning sunbeams spied. [93] TO AX INFANT. Thou art a little cherub born. Fit type of those above ; Tlie radiance of a simmer morn (tIows in thy heart of love. Thy little neck so soft and white, So sweet to kiss behind, Uy silken ringlets fair bedight Was iie'er by links confined. Least taint is there of eai'thly clod Hpon thy little face: Fresh moulded by the hand of God It beams with heavenly grace. Thy dimpled arms so fair and ]'(nnid Defy the sculptor's art; Xo Grecian model ever found, So ]deased the hiimnii heart. m\ Xo verbal language 3^et is thine Thy little wants to tell, And yet a language clear as mine Can all our doubts dispell. The beaming of those lucid eyes Tell plainly what will please, And truly do thy scolding cries Reveal to us thy tease. And fairest of all mortal sights Is that of thee asleep- — The sleep that nature kind incites. So calm and sweet and deep. Age envies thee thy peaceful rest. Those low, sweet lullabies, That still thee on thy mother's breast Ere slumber on thee lies. [9.51 ONCE AND FOREVER. A maiden I knew in the days long ago Who dwelt with her mother grown aged and slow, A spirit of sadness pervaded her mien And made her far older than sweet seventeen ; A something had slipped from her life far away And dnlled the fair time of her beantifnl May. 'I'lie flowers of her garden were claiming her care And white was the rose that she wore in her hair. The jessamine faint and the I'ambler that grew Where beams of the morning disclosed them to view. Both owned the soft tonch of her gentle white hands For deftly she bonnd them with fine osier bands. The daffodils bright and narcissi that bloom. Where drifts of the snow were bnt recent their tomb. Were first to perceive in their delicate frame The kindly sweet presence of her when she came. Her step was so light on the bladelets she prest It seemed that she could not disturb their calm re -it. The pets of her garden, when drooping and lorn. She sprinkled with water at dawning of morn, [96] The docks and the darnels with long- ugly roots She straightway wonld phiek from her sweet flower- ing- shoots: The beetle and bno- and the vile ei'awlino^ worm, Slo ]irone to infest all her nnrselin^-s infirm, She never wonld crnsh in a ernel hard way But bore them far off to the woodlands away. A beinof more aentle. more charming', refined. Was ne'er to a garden that Eden consigned. One eve, when the skirts of the pale dying day. Were lighted Avith gold o'er the shallow still bay. And slowly the floAvers. with their petals of white. Were closing beneath the sweet kisses of night, A yonth. from the back of his kind dappled gray. Leaped down in the face of the low IcA^el ray And said to this maiden so fair and so tall. Who stood all alone by the mossy stone wall: "Broad acres are mine near the far upland town That faces the slope of the smooth Chester do\ATi ; A mansion of brick, whose tall Avindows are wide. Shows shijis as they dance on the wild ocean's tide; And spacious the lawn with its tall stately trees. So airy and cool from the mild summer breeze, [971 Bedecked with the blossoms from strange foreign climes, Its beauty is rare with the varying times. And servants have I which now number a score, AVell skilled in their duty my wants to explore. Come thou to this palace, rich furnished and grand, And dwell as my queen in that beautiful land. I'll robe thee in silks that were woven in France And satins that gleam in the sun's bright glance. I'll love thee and hold thee with tenderest care, And servants shall watch o'er thy garden fair. Thy mother shall come an abiding guest And find with her daughter and son sweet rest." She listened in silence, then spoke in reply. First wiping the tear ere it fell from her eye : "No wishes have I thy high station to share Or breathe the sweet breath of the wide ocean air. Thy silks and thy satins and slaves so skilled Are dross to the heart with dear memories filled ; Too garish art thou in thy gay worldly pride To know the dear treasures that fastest abide. A little green mound on the long sloping hill— 'Tis there that my Edward lies quiet and still. 198] These roses that bloom with their sweetest perfume I grow for the urn that now stands on his tomb. Each morn when their petals are gemmed with the dew I bear a fresh cluster the old to renew. In childhood's dear morning Ave gamboled and played And deep in the woodlands for flowerets we strayed, 'Neath borghs of the maple, that swayed in the wind, Our playhouse with garlands artistic we tw^ined. And sweet Avere the dreams of the future Ave had All painted in sunbeams untinged with the sad. Today 'neath the aa^IIoav, AAdiose Avide spreading shade Embraced the Ioav mound Avhere the soft breezes played, I laid me close doAvn on the grave of my dead And all to myself in Ioav accents I said : 'Thy pledges, dear EdAvard, Avere kept till thy death ; Of me Avere the Avords of thy last failing breath. My heart it Avert Avith thee, the day that thou died, And fondly abideth this day by thy side. Dear memories still cling to the scenes of the past Like leaA^es of the trees that the srramer outlast; No more will I love till my EdAA^ard I see, 'Till Eeath through its portal shall join me AA^th thee.' " [991 HOME FROM BATTLE. Encamped on two neigliboring hill-tops, The armies are resting to-night ; Are resting in wait for the struggle, When morning shall break with its light. Between them is flowing a river, All peaceful and crystal its flood ; Its eddies as bright as pure silver To-morrow shall ripple with blood. To-morrow I die in the battle, Far off from my kindred and love ; Far oft' from the Nellie who loves me, And prays to the Father above. Mid thunders that roll for destruction, And shot with the redness of hell, IMy spirit will wing its departure For realms that no prophet can tell. [1001 Aud when the fierce turmoil of battle Shall cease with the fading of day, My corse from the field of the conflict Some strangers will carry away. They will wend by the cottage of Nellie, Where oft I have lingered so fond; And kissed with sweet words at departing, The lips of my beantifnl blonde. They will come to the home of my childhood. Sechided by sycamores tall; Where father and mother and Roland. Unknowing are waiting my call. Home, home, shall I be by the evening, ]\Iy lonely wild roamings all o'er; Sweet rest shall be mine then forever, Beneath my beloved sycamore. 101 THE RIVEE OF TIME. Oh a wonderful stream is the river of time Whose current is bearing us on ! No stay in the sweep of its marvelous tide, No pause for the wayworn and wan. The wells of this wonderful river of time Are hid in the haze of the years; On mountaiDS upreared ere the birth of the sun Its mystical fountain appears. Its streamings grow deeper and deeper anon As widening they roll to the sea; Where leaving its narrow^s forever behind It bosoms forth boundless and free. A glint and a gleam from this wonderful stream And done is orr day and we die; With its swift vanished sheen that soon fadeth away Our pleasures and happiness fly. We float like the leaves of a bright autumn day Ere nearing Eternity's sea; And feel as we leave our short tortuous course How glorious the deathless to be. [1021 KOCKY RIVER. () Rocky, sweet Rocky, thou beautiful stream! Thine eddies are crystal, thy ripples like gold, And paved with w^hite pebbles as coral thy bed, Not half of th}^ loveliness ever was told. ]My childhood, dear river, was spent by thy banks. And sweet are the dreams that now tell of the past ; Companions were we in the long summer hours When wading thy waters all pleasures surpassed. And resting from toil in the shade of thine elms Thy soft gentle murmurs would lull me to sleep; The charm of thy waters my duty o'ercame And shepherdless wandered the flocks of my sheep. On hills, where the dews from the clear heavens fall, The springs of thy fountains gush silver and pure. Roll backward, dear river, roll backward to-night. The scenes of thy rising fond memories allure. My Nellie played with me upon thy green meads. And smiling the lilies outreaching she gave. Thy smooth gliding bosom oft mirrored her face, Flow softly, dear river, beside her green grave. Eternal, dear river, the flow of thy tide. More lovely thy current ne'er glided before. Roll on, beloved river, for ages to come, T di*ead not the summons to sleep on thy shore. THE MILLER'S DAUGHTER. A tale I sing of lovely Nell, The miller's only daughter, Who dwelt below the Springs of Dove, Near Rocky River's Avater. A sweeter child there never played Mid snows of bleak December; The radiant smile that lit her face I ever shall remember. The spreading elms and sycamores Their branches wide extended. And o'er the mill with lichened roof Their waving arches bended. The farmers came from far and near And brought their corn for grinding; They told their views and shared their jngs, A pleasure always finding. 104] The currents of the human heart Flowed warmer then and deeper; In hours of trial and grief and pain Each was his brother's keeper. ^ly recollection's fondest dreams Are those of boyhood's making; They warm afresh within my heart My passion's first awaking. I nothing cared for views or jugs, I loved the miller's daughter, And Avaded with her in the stream Of pebbled Eocky's water. The crumbling mill has tumbled down, The wheel has ceased its going; The patter of sweet Nellie's feet Is fainter, fainter growing. But still upon that streamlet's tide, Whose banks are dim with distance. There floateth toward the silent seas A part of my existence. [1051 Kroin childhood's day to maidenhood Serene she grew and stately; Her mien revealed a pride and scorn Whose coming pained me greatly. With youth's alert and furtive eye I stole my secret glances; I marked the maiden's blooming cheeks I saw her dreamy trances. Long years ago beside the pond A narrow path was running; And minnows by its grassy edge Their gleaming sides were sunning. And once by me at eventide This silent, lovely maiden Walked with a heart I could not read, Though mine was heavy-laden. We watched the sun go down to rest, The gentle breezes hushing. The waters of the mill-race then Seemed louder, clearer rushing. [106] The i^lacid beams of rising moon Lit waters silvery lying; And winds that played so hard by day Aweary then were dying. The feathery boughs of willow trees Had ceased their graceful swaying ; But audibly their melodies To me were still conveying. Tlie myriad stars with glittering eyes. The azure sky o 'erspreading, Lit far the depths of crystal pond Their diamond beauty shedding. All nature seemed that very night To be herself outdoing; The radiant hope my very soul With courage was enduing. I spoke beneath the silent elms, Where moonbeams soft were straying. The love long since my fondest dream. My courage weak dismaying. [107] But stately walked the silent maid, Her heart was all unfeeling, Her mien was like the stony Sphinx, Poor slaves before it kneeling. She opened not her sealed lips Till at her door we parted; And then there fell the saddening word That made me broken-hearted. She wedded soon a youth of wealth And crossed the mighty ocean; She left me here to drain the dregs Of my most bitter potion. And like the gloom of rayless night, In winter's chilly weather, Are thoughts of her to him who walks Life's lone and cheerless heather. [108] MY MOTHER. Two fleeting' months have scarcely passed. Since sable clouds my sky o'ercast And made my view of thee the last, My mother. Each year I saw thee feebler groAv And viewed with grief the falling snow Curtail for me thy days below, My mother. It pained me when I sa^^- thee ill. I tried my duty to fulfill. And human wish thee with me still, My mother. Remembrance of thy visits made By night to see me warmly laid. E'en now my manhood tears persuade, My mother. [109] When Slumber's wand with graceful sweep Had long my spirt waved to sleep Thy needle still its watch would keep, My mother. My clothes at school so often torn By thoughtless mate or ugly thorn Were mended neat ere coming morn, My mother. Thou nursed me on my bed of pain When fever burned my wildered brain, And watched me slow my strength regain, ]\Iy mother. Thou journeyed with me in the night. When speeding from or toward thy sight. And sleepless rose at morning light, My mother. Thou faithful sent those letters kind. Whose welcome seal sweet love confined And all my toil and care repined. My mother. ino| The robin's voice so sweet to thee, When floating from the budding tree. Awakes a sadness now in me, My mother. Thy silvery locks, once wavy brown. Still hanging thick in ringlets down. Adorned thee with a fitting crown. My mother. The beauteous flowers beside thy door Were emblems of the sinless shore. Thy home is there forevermore. My mother. And dost thou with thy radiant ej^es Behold me from the smiling skies Where life our mortal death defies.^ My mother. Ah 3^es. I know those pages fair. Where kindly deeds recorded are. Have won for thee the angel's care, Mv mother. Ill ETHEL WENTWORTH. The purple waves of ebbing day Gleamed brioht on Shannon hill; And gently with the levelling ray Drew on the evening still. The robin songht his budding height And softly said his sweet good-night. The yellow daffodil That first bedechs the southern steep Its dew-kissed petals closed in sleep. Such time it was my Ethel took Her last farewell of me ; And perish shall her lingering look When tides shall fail the sea. No more shall notes of laughing spring To me their joyous tokens bring. With tearful eye I see How ugly milfoil thick o'er grows The bed where bloomed her summer rose. [112] On Shannon hill the maple trees In graceful grandeur grow; The chestnuts in the summer breeze Their feathery beauty sow. When frosts of autumn seared the ground I shook the opening hickories down. In gown of calico My Ethel caught them when they fell, Her laughter ringing through the dell. O'er Shannon hill the cloudlets sail In beauteous liveries dight; And purest breezes there exhale Their balms that rest invite. The distant vespers softly knoll Sweet invitations to the soul. But pitiless the blight That fell on dank November's air! It reft me ere I was aware. On Shannon hill the wild grape vines Their frosty fruitage yield; The curling tendril intertwines The boughs our seat concealed; [113] And evening zephyrs only blow Sweet memories of the long ago. The seasons then revealed A. charm their changing raiment wore — But faded this forevermore. I wonder if she thinks of flowers Where spring time never dies; Where through the long and gladsome hours The light unfading lies. I wonder if to Shannon hill Her happy memory journeys still ; If ever now she sighs To sit where lichened beeches lean Above our lovely bower of green. 11141 IN IMEMORY OF MRS. THEODORE H. JOHNSTON. Where the breezes blow soft from the ocean, And the flowers never wither or die, Calmly rests she from pain and commotion. And no tear will e'er fall from her eye. Her sweet spirit escaped from its anguish, Like a bird from its prison set free. Hovers low o'er the two Avho now languish All alone in their home by the sea. 115] THE UNKNOWN SEA. I walk upon the borderland Of climes unknown to me ; And seem to grope npon the strand Of an eternal sea. ^J'he breath I draw within an hour May savor of its brine ; And in some dell of island bower Mysterions life be mine. I hear the far off wavering swells Of dying melodies; They faint and fail like silvery bells Where moan the .snllen seas. And here where mists and fogs o'erwhelm No voice distinct I hear; I cannot view that spirit realm AVhieh by me lies so near. I cannot follow with mine eyes The lessening shallop sail; But hope within me yearns and sighs To raise the curtaining veil, [116] VACATION DAYS. (ROCKY RIVER.) Thou singest still 'neath bending skies The strains of long ago; The strains that moved my shimb'ring lyre To soft vibrations slow. Thou flowest through thy leafy woods And by thy fields of corn; Thou singest to the moon and stars Till smiles the radiant morn. Thou glidest round thy emerald isles AVhere peace unbroken reigns; Where waving ferns and rushes green xVre veeries' loved domains. But mine the lot of heated streets "Where throbs the pulse of life ; And mine the restless marts of trade With greed repulsive rife. [117] A block of brick my prison cell, High tow'rino- toward the sky: And nought but walls with smoke begrimed And ledgers greet mine eye. An atomsphere of lies I breathe With cackling* human geese; Prom poisonous flies and market cries My spirit yearns release. O river dear whose grassy banks With stately elms are lined! How blissful e'en the thought of thee To me with care confined ! Oh for one quiet hour of rest In