LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 
 
 Chap. Copyright Xo. 
 
 Shell^.C3:„3.<? 
 
 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 
 
[DYLS TWAIN 
 
 SONNETS 
 
 AND 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 
 
 BY 
 
 LLOYD QOBLE 
 
 CHICAGO 
 
 CHARLES H, KERR & COMPANY 
 
 1898 
 

 COPyHIGHT, 1897, 
 
 by 
 
 LLOYD GOBLE 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 IDYLS TWAIN. 
 
 Vv'here Hide the Heart's Delights? 9 
 
 The Extravagances of a Love-sick Muse — 
 
 Part L Cooing Doves 23 
 
 Pari II. Cawing Crows 38 
 
 SONNETS. 
 
 To James Whitcomb Riley 47 
 
 Morning 48 
 
 Evening 49 
 
 Dreamland 50 
 
 Silver Clouds 51^ 
 
 Benighted 5^ 
 
 The Pilgrim 53 
 
 The Gnome 54 
 
 A Friendly Gleam 55 
 
 A Recollection 56 
 
 To a Calla Lily 57 
 
 Ulla 58 
 
 The Cherub 59 
 
 Woodland Gloom 60 
 
No Sympathizng Tear 6i 
 
 Beyond Our Ken 62 
 
 A Shattered Oak 63 
 
 By Still Waters 64 
 
 Where Rest Remaineth 65 
 
 To a Brown-coated Warbler 66 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 Boys Again 69 
 
 A Summer Blossom 72 
 
 Along the Ambraw River y;^ 
 
 Mundan€ and Ultramundane js 
 
 A Rustic Sketch 76 
 
 To an Owl 79 
 
 Our Sowing 81 
 
 To the Brook 82 
 
 As We Used to Know Him 85 
 
 And Such Is Life 87 
 
 Coppertoes 89 
 
 I Heard Her Sing 91 
 
 Backward Look 93 
 
 A Fantasy 95 
 
 The Founding of a Kindom 102 
 
 Downward Floating;- 103 
 
At Little Mary's Grave 105 
 
 Midnight Longings for the Morrow 108 
 
 The Amish Maiden no 
 
 Just Let Me Rest 112 
 
 Woods of Youth 114 
 
 The Same Old Song 117 
 
 Farewell 119 
 
 Atlantis 120 
 
 Old-Home Rest 123 
 
 To the Ambraw 124 
 
 New Year's Eve 128 
 
 A Lover's Half-Hour 130 
 
 A Morning Ramble 131 
 
 As Bloom the Flowers 136 
 
IDYLS TWAIN 
 
WHERE HIDE THE HEART S DELIGHTS. 
 
 "Little Pixies, cease your swinging 
 
 In the boughs above ; 
 Cease your chatter, cease your singing 
 
 Idle songs of love. 
 On those golden sunbeams straying 
 
 Through the leaves, come down 
 In a fairy circus, playing 
 
 Acrobat and clown! 
 
 "Tiny tumblers, trip it lightly 
 
 On this mossy stone; 
 In and out so brisk and sprightly, 
 
 Faster, every one — 
 Faster to the swell and sinking 
 
 Of that merry tune. 
 Faster yet, the muffled clinking 
 
 Of your golden shoon!" 
 
 'Twas 'but the childish babble of a youth 
 Who, 'neath an old oak tree, gazed upward at 
 9 
 
lo Where Hide the HearVs Delights 
 
 The rustling canopy. The summer winds 
 Blew lightly and the branches idly swayed, 
 While here and there a breadth of azure showed, 
 And through the rifts the sunlight downward 
 
 poured. 
 So earnestly he gazed up throug*h the leaves 
 And watched the beams of light that danced and 
 
 played 
 With every motion of the swaying boughs ! 
 Who dares to say, "Mine eyes have it beheld; 
 'Tis thus, and thus, and there is naught beside?" 
 This outer world we cannot comprehend 
 Save only as the inner world is built, 
 Save only as the soul hath eyes to see ; 
 And this — the inmost self hath power to see 
 And feel by just so much as it may live. 
 
 And so this youth, instinct with life, saw all 
 Things else alive. The brook was happy as 
 It babbled on and tumbled o'er the stones: 
 The leaves were merry, so they laughed and 
 
 danced; 
 The birds were filled with gladness, so they sang; 
 The blossoms smiled and courtesied as he passed; 
 The butterflies, like winged bloom, tiew here 
 And there in zigzag caperings of glee ; 
 
Whei'C Hide the Hearth's Delip-hfs il 
 
 A. 
 
 And e'en the trees with loyal hearts of oak 
 Loved his caress and kinship with him claimed. 
 
 No sigh or whisper but it voiced some heart's 
 
 Distress or gladness ; while the fairy world, 
 
 Invisible to duller eyes, was to 
 
 His subtle sense discernible; and all 
 
 The shades, the shapes, the ghosts of things that 
 
 are 
 Or have been trooped and gamboled 'round and 
 
 laughed, 
 Or wept and told him all their w^oes that he 
 Might weep and share with them their sore dis- 
 tress. 
 Oh, what a wonder-world of life' and light 
 The childish fancy builds ! The soul finds all 
 Things veiled in mystery and o'er and o'er 
 Again repeats its how? and what? and why? 
 And Fancy, that capricious, gladsome elf, 
 Before slow-plodding Reason can reply, 
 Extends her golden wand; and lo! what realms 
 Of light and shadow, skies of cloud and sun! 
 What seas of restless blue where simple Faith 
 Can spread the sails and fear nor wreck nor storm ! 
 
 So now let's follow our young friend awhile. 
 And let him lead us w'here his foot-steps may; 
 
12 Where Hide the Hearfs Delights 
 
 For though all purposeless he wanders on, 
 Yet they are g-uided by an instinct that 
 Finds all the haunts where hide the heart's de- 
 lights. 
 Down into that deep hollow now he swings 
 From maple bough to bending sassafras. 
 He lifts the slender ferns but does not pluck 
 Them, for they would but droop and die; he 
 
 crawls 
 Through tangled brier and brake where noise- 
 lessly 
 The serpent glides away ; and farther down. 
 Where runs the rill, he picks up smooth white 
 
 stones, 
 Whose grinding has required a thousand years — 
 A-nd there, that bank of green! so velvety 
 And soft! No loom of Ind could weave a web 
 So fine. But see, he laughs; what can it be? 
 A'h, there it is; Jack-in-the-pulpit stands 
 To sternly sermonize the violets. 
 Gay-bonneted and bright, who hang their heads 
 Like conscience-smitten, fair, sweet, erring maids. 
 He clim'bs the steep incline and scares away 
 The whip-poor-will from some old moldering log 
 Where she has built her nest. When fairly up 
 The hill, he pauses just a moment to 
 
W/icrc Hide the Heart'' s Delights 13 
 
 Drink deeply of the fragrance tliat the wind 
 Has borne him. Panting still, he hurries on 
 To peer through that thick bramble grown 
 
 around 
 Some giant oak, laid low, whose mighty arms 
 Form trellises for clambering vines. Death stares 
 Not up in unmasked ugliness, for Life 
 Weaves for its veiling robes of tenderest green 
 And drapes with beauty every gaping tomb. 
 
 Before him in the path, a rattle-snake 
 Lies in a hideous mottled coil. It lifts 
 Its head in vengeful attitude; it stares 
 With lidless eyes, and then its warning sounds. 
 The youth, with beating heart wherein there lurks 
 Instinctive enmity, a weapon finds. 
 And stealthily draws near. He lifts to strike; 
 But ere the blow descends, within his eyes 
 The light of pity shines. His weapon falls 
 And thus he muses: "Children of the same 
 All-Father, we; what right have I to lift 
 My hand 'gainst this despised, poisonous thing? 
 Has man dominion but to slay? May I, 
 According as it pleases, kill or spare? 
 For ages, through these woods, such creatures 
 have 
 
14 liVnyc Hide the Heart's Delights 
 
 According to their fashion Hved and died; 
 And now shall I presume to lift my hand 
 And wantonly destroy the handiwork 
 Of God because it daies to creep from out 
 Its chill, damp den to bask here in the sun?" 
 Half-fearing that 'twas but weak sentiment 
 That staid his hand, revolving in his mind 
 The right of man to mete out life or death, 
 To hold the balance carelessly and say 
 \Miich scale, according to the gravity 
 Of right, moves up or down ; and fearing, too. 
 The thing he chose not to destroy, he steals 
 Away, while in his boyish heart springs up 
 A feeling undefined, intangible, 
 A s'hadow of a thought, a conscious throb 
 Of that sweet harmony whose first faint notes 
 Were sounded at creation's dawn to swell 
 And throb and strong and yet still stronger beat 
 Throughout the ever broadening noon of time. 
 
 Scarce out of danger has our young friend gone, 
 
 x-^nd walking thoughtful still, when suddenly 
 
 Before his eyes a ghostly glimmer floats; 
 
 A web of radiating bars and waves 
 
 Of silken circles swings between two boughs. 
 
 A tiny dragon at its center clings 
 
JlV/rrr Hide the Heart's Pc/io/rts 
 
 15 
 
 And treachere^usly waits; a sudden buzz, 
 A spring, and fast in chains the gauzy wings 
 Are bound! Ah, here are evidences of 
 A dozen other tragedies. What wild. 
 Fierce butchery with talons, teeth, and claws! 
 W'hat piteous cries, torn limbs, and low, faint 
 
 moans 
 Of anguish ! Molence, gaunt, hungry wolf, 
 Runs riot through fair Nature's realm, feasting 
 Chi helpless innocence, and mingling snarls 
 And angry bowlings with the glad sweet notes 
 Of joy. Death, ever watchful of its prey; 
 Death, preying on warm, unsuspecting life; 
 Life, till the fatal moment, ever light 
 And gay; and life abounding everywhere! 
 No shaft of sunlight falling through the leaves 
 But happy wings unnumbered gleam and buzz 
 Until the air is resonant with joy. 
 The frog-stool that the boy has plucked abounds 
 With life; no leaflet of the meadow-rue 
 His feet have crushed, but that small compass 
 
 bounds 
 A tiny world of gladness ; every blade 
 Of grass lifts up its slender point to pierce 
 The star-world of a wond'ring race below; 
 No step but what must end some happiness — 
 
1 6 Where Hide the Heart'' s Delights 
 
 But falls a thunder-bolt from out the heavens 
 Or strews with death and terror some domain, 
 A mighty earthquake in its ravages. 
 
 The boy, filled with these thoughts and loth to do 
 
 The slightest injury, walks carefully 
 
 Along a few brief moments, listening to 
 
 The low, sweet murmur of the wind, feeling 
 
 Within his heart a quiet gladness born 
 
 Of soothing sounds, fair hues and odorous breath. 
 
 But suddenly a brown-thrush perched upon 
 
 The topmost bough above him warbles sweet 
 
 And clear its prelude. Just a moment's pause, 
 
 And then upon the startled air it pours 
 
 A very torrent of pellucid song. 
 
 The youth stops for a moment listening, 
 
 Then like a brook with smooth unruffled face 
 
 That lightly breaks and dashes headlong o'er 
 
 A precipice, foaming and bubbling in 
 
 Its joy, his heart leaps up with ecstasy; 
 
 And through the woods he rushes gaily as 
 
 A fawn at play. Far and still farther on 
 
 He goes, following a high ridge that leads 
 
 Out toward the river s side. Here on a low. 
 
 Vine-covered mound among tlie trees he lies. 
 
 With head bent back and pillowed in the leaves. 
 
Where Hide the I{eart\s Deli o- his 17 
 
 Oft has he rested here and mused about 
 The little mound, inventing gruesome tales 
 Of savage Hfe. Far down the river gleam? 
 And sparkles in the sun. A steep rough path 
 Down which he makes his way, then o'er 
 A ledge of rock and he stands gazing ar 
 The entrance to a cave. Darkly it yawns ; 
 But 'he, with blazing torch, has often walked 
 Within the cavern, watching the weird play 
 Of light upon its jagged walls of stone. 
 Or searching every nook and cranny for 
 Some hidden specimen of savage art. 
 Along the river's marge, o'er golden bars 
 Of sand he strolls and spends a happy hour. 
 The river bending in a graceful curve 
 Where its high rocky hills have given way 
 To gentle slope. He finds a winding road 
 That leads up from the river through a growth 
 Of willows, then through thickets of pawpaw 
 And dog-wood, growing dense and dark. 
 
 Through all 
 This gloom, he hurries on half-fearful that 
 Some danger lies in wait at every turn. 
 But now the road emerges from the woods; 
 A meadow smiles before him in the sun. 
 
1 8 lf7n^rc Hide fhc Heart's Hc//o///s 
 
 How bright the sunshine is! How cocl the 
 
 breeze! 
 How sweet the busy hum among the flowers! 
 No time for gloomy thoughts, but happiness! 
 And every fiber of his being feels 
 A quiver of delight. He throws himself 
 Upon the ground and shouts aloud; the earth 
 Reels in his gladness; everything around 
 Him dianges as his fitful fancy wills. 
 He leans upon one arm; the downy balls 
 Of ripened dandelion seeds, he sees 
 Transformed. \\'hat dreamy vision floats before 
 His eyes, what fancy fills his fevered brain 
 He tells to us in improvised rhyme. 
 
 "I am a shepherd and these are my sheep; 
 
 On the green hill-sides they feed all the day; 
 Here I must linger and constantly keep 
 
 Watch lest they leave me and wander away. 
 Home I must lead you, and early the morn 
 
 Shearers will clip off your fleeces of snow ; 
 See how you're leaving on bramble and thorn. 
 
 Some of you. half of your garments, I know." 
 
 But now lie plucks a ball and bloAvs away 
 The seeds. They fly away in clouds of down. 
 
H 7/^/7- Hide the Heart's Delio-hts 19 
 
 The fancy changes, and yet once again 
 
 As he begins to give it utterance. 
 
 "Fly away, birds, on your downy white wings — 
 
 Speed, silver arrows, from frail fairy bows 
 Drawn by deft fingers with light silken strings 
 
 Torn from the spider-web (^w the wild-rose! 
 Speed, magic arrows, and up from the mould 
 
 Where you are falling, in time shall arise 
 Sweet sunny faces illumined with gold, 
 
 Smiling so prettily up at the skies." 
 
 In utter abandon, he sprawls out on 
 The grass and, rolling swiftly down the hill. 
 Spreads consternation through his bleating flocks. 
 While all his clothes are covered with their wool; 
 And birds in bevies, arrows in great clouds 
 Fly through the air. He pauses as his feet 
 Crush through a little hillock where a mouse 
 Has made her nest. How nice and warm it is ; 
 And sitting there with dizzy head, a look 
 Intense of feigned solicitude upon 
 His roguish face, he sings a lullaby: 
 
 "Hush your crying. Baby Brownie; 
 Close your eyes and rest. 
 
20 frAvrc Hide the Heart's Dclio-Jits 
 
 Cradled in that soft and downy 
 Meadow-mouse's nest. 
 
 " 'Tis some idle fear that bothers 
 
 You and makes you cry ; 
 Go to sleep, your anxious mother's 
 
 Coming by and by. 
 
 "Is it you are fearing, Baby, 
 
 That the meadow-mouse 
 Will return and drag you, maybe. 
 
 From her nice, warm house? 
 
 "Go to sleep; she is not coming 
 
 Back the livelong day — 
 Hear the brown bees softly humming 
 
 In their happy way. 
 
 "Dream sweet dreams, O Baby Brownie. 
 
 Brightest dreams and best, 
 Sleeping in your soft and downy 
 
 ^leadow-mouse's nest!" 
 
 But Gilbert, Gilbert, hurry ho'me; a long 
 Long way you've come; wake from your day- 
 dreams; see. 
 The sun has scarce two hours to shine on you ; 
 
Where Hide the HearVs Delights 21 
 
 Home by the nearest way, across the fields 
 By yonder wood that skirts the prairie's edge — 
 Ah, thirsty are you? Then, to that log house 
 That stands just off your way and you may drain 
 As sweet a draught from that old drinking-gourd 
 That little blue-eyed Maimie's dimpled hands 
 Will offer you as ever sparkled up 
 Refresihingly from cup or bubbling font. 
 Why do you pause? Ah, bashful, bashful boy! 
 Afraid of those pink cheeks and laughing eyes! 
 That little sprite in linsey-wolsey who 
 Would even dare to throw her chubby arms 
 About your neck and kiss your sunburnt checks! 
 Who would have been so happy with you in 
 Your wanderings. Then scamper off and slake 
 Your thirst by drinking from the marsh, or wait 
 Until you reach the old spring by your home. 
 
 Fast sinks the sun — no lingering now, but give 
 Your feet swift wings as doth become a boy 
 Who is not lazy save as boyhood loves 
 The tasks that are not tasks because they please. 
 The chores — a dozen things — are waiting you; 
 Drive home the cows and help to milk them, too, 
 For soon comes dusk and supper-time and night. 
 
22 Where Hide the Heart'' s Delights 
 
 How fresh and cool, the evening breeze; how 
 
 sweet, 
 The drone of beetles in the trees blent with 
 The mellow tinklings of a bell; and, far 
 Away, the calling of the whip-poor-wills! 
 Aye, close you now your heavy-lidded eyes: 
 
 The butterflies have gone to sleep ; 
 
 The blossoms, folded for the night; 
 Till early dawn, the crystal deep 
 
 Shall sprinkle down her starry light. 
 
 The sun has gone to spread a glow 
 
 Of gladness over all the skies 
 Of slumber-land Vvdiere breezes blow 
 
 The opiate breaths of Paradise. 
 
 Oh, dreams of boyhood bright and fair! 
 
 Oh, deepest sleep ! and sweetest rest ! 
 God's hands have smoothed with tend'rest care 
 
 The pillow that thy cheeks have pressed ! 
 
THE EXTEAVAGANCE8 OF A LOVE-SICK 
 MUSE. 
 
 PART I. 
 
 COOING DOVES. 
 
 "Coo, gentle doves; within your bower 
 Love steals and all the day beguiles — 
 That elfling fair as any flower 
 
 On which the eye of heaven smiles. 
 He hears, although ye see him net, 
 Your cooings in this sheltered £pot. 
 Then coo, coo, yc do\es; 
 Coo, ye gentle doves! 
 
 "Ah, Love has done a gracious thing! 
 With some caprice of joy new-born, 
 The hour that speeds on golden wing^ 
 To herald the approaching morn, 
 He gave his quiver, bade her strow 
 The shafts on all the earth below. 
 Then coo, coo, ye doves , 
 Coo, ye gentle doves! 
 23 
 
24 The Extravagances of 
 
 "So all the world's in love to-day — 
 
 The forest, prairie, lilied pond, 
 The river bearing far away. 
 
 The ocean stretching- far beyond; 
 And here hides Cupid naught to do 
 But listen to your honeyed coo. 
 Then coo, coo, ye doves; 
 Coo, ye gentle doves! 
 
 *'How pants the summer wind with love! 
 
 How warm with passion, earth and sky ! 
 And vines and branches twined above 
 
 They nod and whisper, breathe and sigh, 
 And bend to hear these doves express 
 In sweetest notes their tenderness. 
 Then coo, coo, ye doves; 
 Coo, ye gentle doves!'' 
 
 Sweet songs the soul sings to itself, but when 
 It dares attempt to give them utterance 
 The harmonies are broken. Here, a strain 
 Limpid and pure, yet marred by discord ere 
 'Tis half expressed — a few clear notes, a hint 
 Of soul-transparency, but floating drift 
 In briefest time obscures its crystal depths. 
 Veiling the flash and gleam it ever strives 
 
a Love- Sick Muse 25 
 
 To throw. And Gilbert Darnell, at the age 
 When youth tiptoes to manhood, found his life 
 Stirred to profoundest depths. It sparkled, leaped 
 And bubbled through the froth in sudden spouts 
 Of song. With summer's sultriness the wind 
 Was freighted; fields of tasseled corn their blades 
 Clashed lazily and sprinkled pollen down 
 Like dust of gold; brown fields of stubble with 
 Their fruitage stored in barns all ready for 
 The threshing-floor shown warm; while, gazing 
 
 through 
 The woodland's ragged fringe, broad stretches of 
 The prairie might be seen, with marshes pied 
 And meadows newly mown. Across his path 
 The ragweeds leaned wherein contentedly 
 Grasshoppers sang; and in the tree-tops where 
 He passed, the shrill cicadas chorused loud. 
 Intense, the summer heat; but more intense. 
 His nature passion-stirred. Within the cool 
 And grateful shade, he stops a moment, with 
 The sweat in beads upon his forehead. Not 
 A sound but some responsive chord within 
 His breast makes quick reply. Aye, love within 
 The heart is multiform. A voice it has 
 For everything without, and ears that may 
 Interpret every outward thing. 'Tis life 
 
26 TJiC F.xl rava i^'aiiccs of 
 
 I )i\iiRly rrowiu'd; 'lis soul surriciriu')'. 
 
 Ihil tlicMi lliis crowniiiL;' — ^w lieu 'tis done and how? 
 
 And whence liie fullness of this ampler self? 
 
 What food with niaj^ie elements so mixed 
 
 That in a daw a WH'ek, a mouth t'he dwarf 
 
 Of childish sentiment has i;rown to its 
 
 Majority and stands j;it;autic in 
 
 Its passion's stature? Aye, what art occult 
 
 J lave timid i;lances, modest looks, red lijis 
 
 And crimson blushes to (bVine tlu> heart's 
 
 h'ull self and conjure all the reason or 
 
 Unreason found in Ion'c's philosophies? 
 
 "A tin\' seed some j>assini;' wind had blown 
 
 Into the i^arcU'u of my heart la\' loni;- 
 To shine and rain iusensibU" and ^rown 
 
 About by fraj^rant tlowers. Lost in thai throng-, 
 It seemed as nothini;'; but within a \\\)^\\{ 
 
 It sprang- u]>. and before 'twas eve i^rew tall 
 .And opened \<^ the sun its boll of lii^lit, 
 
 StauihuL;" the fairest flowt'r amon^j.;- them all. 
 
 "lUow, la/y winds, amom;- the trct'S scarce strom;- 
 
 hjiou^i^h to wake a melody or e'en 
 
 A sit;h and yel by constant dalliance. 
 
 Slow pulTs and twists and turniuj^-s to let fall 
 
 A broken I wiij" to w liich an acorn clings. 
 
a Love- Sick Miisc 27 
 
 "A worm within an acorn shell, 
 A season lived I there and grew 
 In deepest darkness locked nor knew 
 
 The world was lari^er than my cell. 
 
 "But pierced the walls — a world of love 
 Shines brig-ht on my bedazzled eyes, 
 Earth's glory that around me lies, 
 
 The blue of heaven that bends above! 
 
 "Yon butterfly that from its chrysalis 
 
 Comes forth to spread its rainbow-colored wings. 
 
 Rejoicing in its new-found, hig-her life 
 
 And searching for its mate among the {lowers 
 
 Is of love's transformation but a type. 
 
 And there, that fairy dragon-tly that darts 
 
 About on cpiivering wing; how airily 
 
 It lloats and speeds away with sudden dart 
 
 And turn, a flash of sunlig-ht vanishing! 
 
 "Deep in the marsh's nuul and slime, 
 I crawled about from day to day, 
 
 Nor dreamed so bright and fair a clime 
 Of cloud and sun above me lay. 
 
 "lUit looking up. Love held for me 
 These gauzy wings — a double pair — 
 
28 The Exti'avagances of 
 
 And taught me how to dart so free 
 And happy through the thin bkie air ! 
 
 "Just as the woodman's heaps of brush along 
 The clearing's edge have first the brand applied, 
 A tiny blaze appearing next that grows 
 And curls amid the crackling boughs until 
 The whole becomes one lurid leaping flame ; 
 Just as the lightning from its cloud-throne lcai)S. 
 While slowly following and grumbling low 
 The thunder swells with deeper rumblings as 
 It rolls adown the steep incline of heaven; 
 Just as the low-hung clouds grow thin, and earth 
 And heaven, lighter till the sun bursts forth, 
 A smile of gladness spreading o'er the hills. 
 While every leaf and floweret gleams with gold — 
 How like to these are love's awakenings. 
 
 "As within an infant's eyes 
 Wonder follows mild surprise, 
 Gravest doubts, and changing thence 
 To slow looks of confidence, 
 Till all suddenly the sprite 
 Wreathes and dimples with delight! 
 So love bloomed in my heart. 
 
 "As within its nest of green 
 
a Love- Sick Muse 2g 
 
 Grows the rosebud all unseen 
 Till its husk it opes and through 
 Peeps with timid eyes of dew, 
 Bolder then in brightest dress 
 Blooms the queen of loveliness. 
 So love bloomed in my heart. 
 
 "Slowly wakes the fair young day, 
 Slowly fade the stars away, 
 Night's dark curtains now are rolled, 
 Brighter gleams the sky with gold, 
 Bursting, flaming from afar 
 Phoebus heavenward drives his car! 
 So love dawned in my heart. 
 
 "The warm air in a tremble rises from 
 The earth like spirits reaching up with palms 
 Oiitspread to hold aloft the clouds which,, so 
 Upborne, then melt away and once again 
 Appear far off to find yet other hands 
 That hold them back, until with grief at last 
 They into tears dissolve and fall, to thus 
 Find in their sorrow but the fullness of 
 Their joy. So, laughing merrily, they run 
 Down to the sea, are lifted up and once 
 Again return, repeating o'er and o'er 
 
30 The Extravagajices of 
 
 The round. And then this globe of green, with 
 
 what 
 FideHty it moves about the orb 
 That gives it Hfe, still pleasing in its own 
 Variety, its change of seasons, day 
 And nig-ht. So all things speak to us of love. 
 Not one poor thing but bears the mystic sign 
 The 'heart can recognize; while Reason dazed 
 Must wonder, ever asking, 'What is love?' 
 
 "Love? 'Tis constancy, 'tis change. 
 
 Love? ah, love I know full well; 
 Something common, something strange — 
 
 What is love? I cannot tell. 
 
 "Ask me not; this love's a thing 
 
 More than human, 'tis divine; 
 Ask the bird on heavenward wing. 
 
 Ask the sunward climbing vine. 
 
 "x\sk the nymphs that liglitly dream 
 
 On the star-besprinkled sod; 
 Ask the mountain drifts that gleam 
 
 Snowy summits up to God. 
 
 ''Ask the waves from some far shore 
 Sweet with Love's own odorous breath; 
 
a Love- Sick M?ise 31 
 
 Ask the waves that wildly roar — 
 Furious waves in love with death! 
 
 "What is love? 'tis day, 'tis night; 
 
 Now it pleases, now it pains; 
 Subtle drops of wild delight 
 
 Running riot through my veins! 
 
 "What is love? 'tis sweetest rest, 
 
 Wild delirium as well, 
 Seas to one small drop compressed — 
 
 What is love? I cannot tell." 
 
 So, lover-like, he wandered on and on 
 Communing with himself and speaking out 
 His passion with such fervor that to him 
 It seemed he might stand unabashed before 
 The world proclaiming it to all. As bold 
 A.s any veteran of the chase, the young 
 Hound when the quarry is afar; but when 
 'Tis brought to bay and stands with antlers fixed, 
 The late pursuer timidly stands by 
 Or watches with much show of eagerness 
 And mouthings loud that ill conceal its fear. 
 And Gilbert, when he saw far off across 
 The glowing fields or through some opening 
 wood 
 
yi TJie Extravagances of 
 
 The little cot where Maimie Cartwright lived, 
 
 Was bold as any knight that e'er laid lance 
 
 In rest for lady fair in days of old; 
 
 But as he nearer drew his courage fled, 
 
 And in its place, a perturbation such 
 
 As only timid country swains may know. 
 
 The day a half-score youths and maidens had 
 
 Proposed to spend upon the river-side. 
 
 A day upon the river! ah, what shades 
 
 Are poured so deeply down as those that fall 
 
 Upon the idler at the water's edge? 
 
 What overhanging trees so thick that but 
 
 A friendly breath of wind can find its way 
 
 To fan the lounger as he leans beneath. 
 
 Forgetful of all things but that sweet sense 
 
 Of calm enjoyment. Dulcet sounds pervade 
 
 The air — 'the splashing of a minnow as 
 
 It leaps and falls again into the tide, 
 
 The twitter of a swallow as it skims 
 
 Above the silver surface, now from some 
 
 Thick bower of branches comes the cuckoo's call, 
 
 And all the myriad notes that blend in such 
 
 Mellifluous harmony. The angler finds 
 
 A nook 'mid gnarled roots of sycamore 
 
 That overhang some pool where he may drop 
 
a Love- Sick Muse 33 
 
 His line and watch it to iiis heart's content. 
 And then that dreamy pastime when the Hglit 
 Canoe with Hfted oar floats lazily 
 O'er placid depths and shingly shallows till 
 The dreamers' vision of the noonday feast 
 Beneath the old elm leads them to the shore. 
 
 Oh, 'hills of deepest green and darkest shades 
 Beneath the flood of summer's purple haze! 
 With all thy sheltered nooks and secret bowers 
 Where youths and maidens, with their hearts 
 
 attuned 
 To all the passion-laden harmonies 
 That Mother Nature sings, may spend the long. 
 Long afternoon ! But now, the day far-spent. 
 They lingered yet some moments in a cave 
 Slow-lab'ring Time had chiseled from the hills. 
 Through winding passages that broader grew 
 Or narrowed to saiiall openings, they viewed 
 Each quaint formation — s'hapes fantastic in 
 Relief carved on the limestone walls. A sense 
 Of awe crept over them for every word 
 That in the air confined was uttered had 
 A Titan's voice; and when they listening stood, 
 Deep was the solemn stillness reigning there 
 And broken only by tbe ghostly moans 
 
34 The Extravagances of 
 
 And 'hollow soundings of the air that swept 
 Through breathing crevix:es. But our two friends, 
 These lovers twain — for Gilbert better tlian 
 The others knew the cave, admiring most 
 Its hidden mysteries — ^had farther strayed 
 And stood forgetful of all things save that 
 They waited there alone. To Gilbert, who 
 Had often dreamed away an idle hour 
 Within the gloom, it had become a hall 
 Of fantasy. *'See through the gloom those forms 
 That move about — fair dames and stately, tall 
 lo queenliness, and crested chieftains in 
 Their war gear clad; while palsied hands grow 
 
 firm 
 With memory's own youthfulness and wake 
 From trembling strings rich harmonies that float 
 About us here, enmeshing us within 
 A tangle of dehght." Thus on he went. 
 His childish fancies babbling, till at last, 
 Remembering their companions, they sought 
 
 once 
 Again the light of day, but heard no voice 
 And knew that they were left to cihose what time 
 They would upon their homeward way. But now 
 This joke, as jokes must often prove, was but 
 
a Love-Sick Muse 35 
 
 Love's opportunity. Nor need we ask 
 How in his wooing fared the love-sick youth. 
 
 Far in the west the sun was sinking, and 
 
 Like Httle children strayed from home, they went 
 
 Hand clasped in hand. Care makes us aged, Joy 
 
 Would keep us children all our lives. Unchained, 
 
 His fancy where it listed roved. He told 
 
 Her that so often when he walked, a nymph 
 
 Or dryad robed in leafy draperies 
 
 Would flit before him like a shadow, call 
 
 Him onward beck'ning with her snowy hand. 
 
 And now he saw the creature once again ; 
 
 Could ^he not see? There, in the hawthorn shade ! 
 
 '*Ah, deep within the forest green. 
 With bounding step she hurries by, 
 
 Then stops bdhind yon leafy screen 
 And looks at us with roguish eye! 
 
 "See! there she beckons; let us go; 
 
 With step as light let's hurry on — 
 As lightly as the bounding doc 
 
 She leaps and beckons and is gone. 
 
 "Nor througli the tangled, leafy maze. 
 Can we seek out her hiding place; 
 
36 The Rxtravagances of 
 
 Through all these doubtful winding ways, 
 Her fleeing footsteps leave no trace. 
 
 "But listen! Ah, my forest maid. 
 
 Thou nymph or shadow, we can hear, 
 
 From out thy secret, sheltering shade. 
 Thy laughter rippling sweet and clear!" 
 
 So by the nearest way they reached her home ; 
 And he must stay for supper, too; nor to 
 Decline their invitation had he will. 
 So stayed he till the stars came out, going 
 At last, treading the dewy pathway with a step 
 So light he seemed to float love-crowned upon 
 A sea of glittering stars. What need had he 
 To hurry home? The night was beautiful. 
 Why seek a pillow where his joy should war 
 With sleep and smile a restless conqueror? 
 The world moon-washed was radiant with de- 
 light; 
 There by the old decaying log whereon 
 He sat the season's first fair gentians bloomed. 
 
 "Little fringed bells of blue. 
 
 Lift your sparkling eyes; 
 Let each tiny drop of dew 
 
 That serenely lies 
 
a Love- Sick Muse 37 
 
 Softly folded upward gaze 
 At the starry skies. 
 
 "Fairy lamps that flasli and blaze, 
 
 Fade, then faintly glow — 
 Flas'h and fade — your fitful rays 
 
 Kindly downward throw 
 From the purple mists above 
 
 On the earth bf.low. 
 
 "Silver stars and gems of dew, 
 
 Though you shine so bright 
 From your own soft beds of blue 
 
 All the still clear night, 
 Shine there yet from soft blue eyes 
 
 Love's diviner light." 
 
PART II. 
 
 CAWING CROWS. 
 
 "What a darkling whirlwind of clamorous crows 
 
 Sv/eeping ana circling about on the 'hill! 
 Circling and sweeping — still faster it grows, 
 
 Slower and slower, at last it is still. 
 Still but a moment — a single rude note. 
 
 Then a hars'h, discordant wild chorus of caws! 
 A torrent that gathers from every black throat, 
 
 A flutter of wings in that thicket of haws! 
 
 "Why do you vex me with all of that din? 
 
 Wherever I wander, you're sure to be there. 
 The brown thrush's fine-fluted notes scarce begin 
 
 But are drowned in a deluge of turbulent air. 
 The chirp of a robin, a meadow-lark's reel, 
 A field-sparrow's twitter — ah, these would I 
 hear 
 Instead of ihis tumult; no joy can I feel 
 
 While these sable, ill-omened crows linger 
 near! 
 
 38 
 
Extravagances of a Love- Sick Muse 39 
 
 *'Then off to the wild-wood and vex me no more; 
 
 1 crave from this torment a moment of rest; 
 'Tis time you were seeking your haunts and once 
 more 
 
 Each ebon pair building a rough ragged nest. 
 The south wind is blowing and warm is the sun, 
 
 While up in the locust the oriole sings; 
 But ah, my weak spirit, too feeible to rim, 
 
 Must crawl about dragging its poor, tattered 
 wings." 
 
 Thoug^i Love is blind, that spider, Jealousy, 
 
 Has full ten thousand eyes, and weaves her web 
 
 That she may feast on buzzing insects caught 
 
 Within the balmy, spiced atmosphere 
 
 Of vermeil-hued Romance. Romance, that realm 
 
 Of crimson-tinted foliage beneath 
 
 Blue bending skies, a kingdo'm hke unto 
 
 The dreams that old star-gazers oft 'have told 
 
 About Earth's sister planet, blushing Mars. 
 
 'Twas whispered by the gossips that a youth, 
 More handsome or with larger bank account, 
 Won glances from fair, mercenary eyes ; 
 And Gilbert, of its truth half-conscious, found 
 (Though winter's storms had come and gone, 
 and all 
 
40 TJic Extravagances of 
 
 The earth was smiHng once again) no joy 
 In all the gladness 'round him. Everywhere 
 He went, o'er soft, green hills or in the cave's 
 Chill gloom, a dark foreboding haunted him. 
 
 "What maze of sight and sound I see and hear! 
 
 Within this dream-lit hall I stand and gaze 
 
 And, wond'ring, view each g-hostly form that 
 plays 
 A constant cl'.an^;e-— the smile that to a tear 
 Condenses ere it warms the heart; the dear 
 
 Sweet form I fain would clasp in warm embrace 
 
 Seems changed to snowy marble and her face 
 So fair is cold and bids me come not near ; 
 While those sweet sounds that, flung from silver 
 strings. 
 
 Spake to my soul a gracious harmony. 
 Breathe only sobs and sig'hs and whisperings 
 
 And dark forebodings dread — ^^such things as be 
 In store for him whose fevered fancy brings 
 
 His wortliless dreams in change for charity!" 
 
 And so he found at last his rival had 
 Supplanted him ; and in a roaring rage, 
 He flamed up, all his injured soul on fire 
 With hatred. Burning for revenge, this youth, 
 
a Love- Sick Mtise 41 
 
 So sickly sentimental, looked no more 
 With eyes of amVous softness, but with balls 
 Of blazing fierceness. Out into the night, 
 FIc walked alone and thickened all the air 
 With an unchained, volcanic fullness of 
 Invective. Long he walked and raged and roared, 
 And faster walked as fiercer waxed his rage; 
 Till finally his frenzy had passed by, 
 And o'er him came a sense of helplessness. 
 AMien crazed with wrath, he might have braved 
 A thousand dangers; now despair had seized 
 On him; fear crept into his heart; a chill, 
 Gray mist had fall'n on wood and plain and he 
 Was damp and cold; uncanny creatures swarmed 
 About or lurked in ambush, all in league 
 To do him each some dreadful injury. 
 
 ''Dip, somber wings, from out the murky air; 
 
 Laugh, loathsome harpies, in your frenzied 
 glee, 
 And drown the shrieks and cries of wild despair 
 
 With taunts and jeers and fiendish mockery! 
 
 ''Ye skulking ghouls fhat prowl the darksome 
 wood, 
 Fierce howling demons, at the midnight hour 
 
42 The Extravagaficcs of 
 
 In vengeful struggle strew with your own blood 
 The ghastly prey ye greedily devour! 
 
 "Dark stagnant fen, where hideous reptiles gUde 
 Through reed and brake all rank with poison- 
 ous breath, 
 And glow-worms crawl, and slimy creatures hide, 
 While every wind, pest-laden, whispers, 
 'Death!' 
 
 *'Wan, sickly moon, gaze through the chill, gray 
 mist. 
 
 All ashen pale with that cold, ghostly smile; 
 While here to these low-breathed words I Hst: 
 
 'I'll claim my own — not yet; a little while!' " 
 
 ''A little while?" How long? a day? an hour? 
 A moment of such torment was a hell. 
 The instinct of self-preservation when 
 Some outward injury is offered stayed 
 His hand that would have otherwise his own 
 Destruction sought. Death stood there specter- 
 like. 
 As grim and gaunt a phantom as e'er reached 
 A ghostly hand with which to seize its prey 
 And drag it 'to its loathed charnel house. 
 
a Love- Sick Muse 43 
 
 "An icy hand is clutching at my heart; 
 And now instead of bounding Hfe that sped 
 Through vein and artery and tiny thread 
 
 With joyous rioting and sudden dart 
 
 And turn and phuige, I feel that chill blood start 
 So tardily with each slow beat — like lead 
 It creeps along till every sense seems dead 
 
 Save that dull ache that to my farthest part 
 
 Finds way ! My life is naug^ht but living death ! 
 My quivering flesh, but dull, cold agony! 
 Those rigid fingers yet more fiercely clasp 
 
 And tug and pull! Once more my struggling 
 breath 
 Contends ere yielding up the victory, 
 Thus ending all in one convulsive gasp!" 
 
 But no — next morn when on his face a look 
 
 So woe-begone, his sister saw and laughed 
 
 At him and, with a stimulating sort 
 
 Of sauciness, a volley fired at him 
 
 Of most impertinent remarks, he stood 
 
 Up straight and, with the proper stiffness, curled 
 
 His downy lip and tossed his head and swore 
 
 By radiant wreaths of 'holy smoke that, for 
 
 The simpering thing, he did not care a straw. 
 
SONNETS. 
 
TO eFAMES WHITCOMB BTLEY. 
 
 Sweet singer, as you twang the (luiv'ring strings 
 Of that old harp whose tuneful melody 
 Fills all our 'hearts again with boyish glee, 
 Or, melting into tend'rest pathos, brings 
 To mind some sweet, sad joy that closely clings 
 And twines new life about our hearts, as the 
 Old ivy decks wit'h green the storm-rent tree — 
 Now, while you sing, the "clearer twitterings" 
 In leafy depths I hear, while breezes blow 
 To me the breath of clover bloom; the stream 
 From its pellucid depths chants music rare 
 In liquid laughter like the tinklings low 
 Of fairy serenaders in a dream, 
 
 Till, drunk with joy, I'm lost to every care. 
 47 
 
MORNING. 
 
 A pale, soft ^low lights up the eastern skies; 
 
 Deep silence reigns about us everywhere; 
 
 How fresh and pure is the cihill morning air; 
 While sparkhng dew in fading moonlight lies 
 Like flashing diamonds or like fairy eyes 
 
 That laugfh at us — till suddenly the bare, 
 
 Old, rough and rugged mountains smile in rare, 
 Rich robes of rosy light. In glad surprise. 
 The song-birds join in choruses of glee; 
 
 From fair green meadows, valleys, plains and 
 hills. 
 We hear the mingled notes of joy and praise — 
 The sober joy of Age, the ecstasy 
 
 Of Youth when every tingling fiber thrills 
 With all the gladness of our childhood days. 
 
EVENING. 
 
 The sun sinks down behind the western hill; 
 With pencils long of flashing light he throws 
 O'er all the canvas of the sky briglit glows 
 
 Of golden glory; far away the trill 
 
 Of some sweet singer, fraught with all its skill 
 Inborn, pours out upon the breeze that blows 
 To me a flood of melody; while grows 
 
 The evening twilight faint and fainter till 
 
 The world is wrapped in slumber 'neath the folds 
 
 Of night. Oh ! may, within the distant west. 
 
 The sunset of our lives their skies adorn 
 
 With glory no less bright than evening holds 
 Above a sleeping world. So may we rest 
 Till brightly dawns the everlasing morn. 
 49 
 
DREAMLAND. 
 
 When restful slumber gently shuts the lids, 
 Like fringed curtains veiling out the light 
 From our tired gaze, and dusky-mantled Night, 
 The world enfolding deep in shadows, bids 
 All Nature rest in calm repose, when streams 
 Of liquid silver laugh in wild delight 
 At Luna's image like a dancing sprite, 
 The fairy goddess of the land of dreams 
 Trips gaily outward through wild wooded bowers 
 Where merry elves in wanton revelry 
 Unite, or leads us by the hand to view 
 Some mighty castle where for seeming hours 
 We watdh the moonbeams paint all rosily. 
 Arcades of marble mists we wander through. 
 50 
 
SILVER CLOUDS. 
 
 Oil, clouds of silver white, float softly by! 
 
 Beneath the shade of this old apple tree, 
 
 Decked out in green so gay and gorgeously. 
 In discontent and lazy dreams I lie ; 
 And far above, I see thee poised on high 
 
 Like phantom ships that sail a boundless sea. 
 
 There rocking on the unseen waves must be 
 Rest for the weary spirit that would fly 
 Away with thee beyond these prison walls, 
 
 Where in God's love and sweet security 
 The sunshine of his smile forever falls — 
 
 Oh, to that glorious cloudland could I flee 
 Where now a spirit voice so softly calls 
 
 And angel hands so gently beckon me! 
 SI 
 
BENIGHTED. 
 
 In that thick, heavy gloom that gathered 'round 
 Me as I wandered onward through the night, 
 Not one faint ray could struggle throug'h to 
 light 
 My pathway with its friendly gleam, no sound 
 To break the awful stillness, while the ground 
 Began to tremble, toss, and heave with might, 
 And part beneath my feet, till wild with fright 
 I shrieked aloud and gave one mighty bound ; 
 But looking up I saw two beaming eyes 
 
 Wreathed with dim, smiling features softly float 
 Through that dense blackness. Steadily 
 on me 
 They gazed; and as I stood there in suq^rise, 
 The darkness vanished, while a tiny throat 
 Piped soft and clear its low, sweet melody. 
 52 
 
THE PILCtRIM. 
 
 He paused; then sat himself upon a stone, 
 And looked about upon a valley, strewn 
 In wild confusion with the fragments hewn 
 By the Omnipotent, building His own 
 Eternal, snow-crowned pyramids. Alone 
 
 He sat, unmoved and statue-like. High noon 
 Beheld him weary, while he now must soon. 
 Through shadows, grope his way. The sun had 
 thrown 
 A flood of glory over all the hills; 
 And, bursting into flame, the western skies 
 Became a holocaust that into night 
 Should fade; and as a sudden splendor fills 
 The heart with rapture, so his stony eye« 
 Grew radiant with a celestial light. 
 53 
 
THE CtNOME. 
 
 Beneath a frowning ledge, beside a stream 
 I stood, and heard its waters froth and foam 
 Among t'he crags; then back through vauUed 
 dome 
 And cave-hke dungeon, watched the fitful gleam 
 Of crystals flashing now a straggling beam 
 Of lig^lit. There in the gloom, I saw a gnome 
 Or elfish goblin stealing from his home 
 And, blinking at me, sit within a seam 
 That splits the granite walls. A golden crown 
 With flashing gems was -on his head, and stars 
 Of opal, emerald, and ruby shone 
 From fairy circlets ; but a sullen frown 
 
 His forehead darkened, and with gliastly scars, 
 That visage cold seemed frozen into stone. 
 54 
 
A FRIENDLY CtLEAM. 
 
 I groped my way through darkness wild and 
 black 
 As ever sent a wanderer astray — 
 No friendly moon to guide me on my way; 
 No star with merry twinkle to laugh back 
 My fleeting courage; but the old oaks tossed 
 And clashed in blindest rage, as demons might 
 When Chaos ruled o'er universal night. 
 Far from my path I strayed, hopelessly lost. 
 Till suddenly a ray that pierced t^he gloom 
 
 Led me a wand'rer home. Oh! may that soul, 
 That long has strayed away and deems his goal 
 Can only be inevitable doom. 
 
 Catch some stray beam that struggles through 
 
 the night 
 To kindle hope and lead his steps aright. 
 55 
 
The son^;- t'hat loni;" ai^o I hoard hor sitij;- 
 
 Comes tloaliiiL;- backward tlirc)iii;h the vanished 
 
 years; 
 Aiul that same smile that dnn'O the vai^Tant 
 fears 
 l"'ii)m t)iit m\' h(>\ ish heart, nor failed to hrin;^' 
 A full-l)lo\vii idadncss, like the oi)enin;;' 
 
 Of rose-buds in the warm jiine clays, appears 
 With all its genial warmth and straightway 
 eluers 
 Me as in that old time a breath oi spring- 
 That dri\es awa\- the winliM- ehill. .Aye. eome 
 h'rom that fair land, and as in days (^f oKl 
 Trii") h^vhtiy here luMieath the orehaid tree; 
 Tluai rest awhile, lulled by the drowsv hum 
 
 Of l>ees, wiiile 1 blend with thine own i)nre t;"old 
 Pills weahh of roses I have plucketl for thee. 
 5CI 
 
TO A CALLA LILY. 
 
 Thou fair, frail ihiiii;" so sweetly blooiniiii; tlioro! 
 What liappN' Km is I'hiiu' to si4 the while 
 Within the «;-eiiial sunshine of the smile 
 ( )f her who innards tlue with her tend'i'est eare, 
 W'lu) keei)s with, jealous \ii;ilanee thy fair. 
 Tale heauty from sueh things as would delde 
 Its innoeenec^ -her heart, as free from ij;uile 
 .As thine own lowliness, elaimin;; full share 
 ( >f all the L^raees that tluKse forms of hi^iit 
 
 That leather 'rcnnid the (ireat White Tin-one 
 above 
 Possess. (>h. who eould fail to envy thee? 
 Then l»U)om th\' fairest, ribbed in purest white, 
 iMublem of goodness, i^entleness, and love, 
 Anil littini;' emblem of her purity. 
 S7 
 
[JLLA. 
 
 She stood there waiting at the market-place, 
 A quaintly shapen jar upon her head, 
 Then turning, with shy glance and doubtful 
 tread, 
 Passed down the row of stalls, her girlisli face 
 With sweet timidity and just a trace 
 
 Of mild confusion blooming there. Rose-red 
 It deepened as bold youths would praise, in- 
 stead 
 Of merchandise, her charms and gentle grace. 
 Oh ! happy swain, w' ho 'neath the olive trees 
 Shall read in those soft eyes a warmer glow 
 And mark upon her cheeks a rosier bloom 
 While am'rous eve's own lazy, loitering breeze 
 Shall idly sing of that glad overflow 
 
 From hearts so full they scarce have beating- 
 room ! 
 
 53 
 
THE CHERUB. 
 
 In that cool, sheltered nook where smiling Morn 
 Beg-uiled me by her diarms and loveliness, 
 A sleeping cherub lay in nature's dress 
 
 Of dimpled beauty. Every star and horn 
 
 And bell of bloom that grew there to adorn 
 His velvet couch seemed bending to caress, 
 With every breeze, his half-hid limbs and bless 
 
 In fragrant praise the fair, the heaven-born. 
 
 With noiseless tread, lest I should put to flight 
 The vision, I drevv^ near and o'er the fair 
 
 Form, wondering, bent; when suddenly his bright 
 Eyes ope'd and lightly, as in summer air 
 
 The dew-drop fades, he vanished from my siglit 
 And left me gazing at his impress there. 
 59 
 
WOODLAND GLOOM. 
 
 Oh! dark and solemn depths of woodland gloom; 
 In awe and reverence I wander here, 
 While stealing o'er me comes a vague-like fear; 
 
 Thy voices sound like echoes from the tomt), 
 
 And in thy air I breathe a faint perfume 
 Like that from snow-white Hlies on a bier, 
 Or like the odors breathed by those who near 
 
 The land where bright, eternal flowers bloom. 
 
 The gentle murmuring of thy rustling leaves 
 Seems but the sigh of some poor care-worn soul 
 That wearily his heavy cross lays down, 
 
 Rejoicing that the Reaper with His sheaves 
 Sees fit to bind him, that the long-sought goal 
 Is won and on his brow is placed a crown. 
 60 
 
NO SYMPATHIZING TEAE. 
 
 Our grealtest griefs are those that we alone 
 Must feel, the griefs that we refuse to share 
 With all the heartless horde, who only bear 
 With cold indifference the heart's deep groan 
 Of anguish. Dirges in an undertone 
 For our departed joys we chant, yet dare 
 To laug'h and hide our woes with nicest care — 
 To act a part we cannot make our own. 
 And smile up through our tears at all the gay 
 Frivolities that only serve to bruise 
 
 Our aching hearts. Oh ! may God's bound- 
 less love 
 Heal all our wounds and chase our gloom away, 
 And showers of joy fall down like gentle dews 
 Upon the earth from pitying skies above! 
 6i 
 
BEYOND OUR KEN. 
 
 We look around us on tliis little world, 
 
 Soft, misty robed, all golden, green and fair; 
 And gaze up at the moon, that through the air 
 Floats like a radiant bubble gaily hurled 
 Upon the 'breeze by laughing youth with curled 
 And flossy hair; then outward, farther, where 
 The sister planets onward roll, we s(tare 
 And mark the mig'hty paths where they have 
 
 whirled 
 For countless ages 'round the mig'hty sun ; 
 Still far 'beyond, we hear in limpid blue 
 The untold systems o'er and o'er again 
 Sing out, "Eternity has just begun!" 
 
 We hear the surging ocean beat, but view 
 One drop and know 'tis all of finite ken. 
 62 
 
A SHATTERED OAK. 
 
 Proud hast thou stood, nor bowed thy lofty head; 
 Bo'ld and defiant, tliou hast mocked the rage 
 Of e'en the wildest storm that to assuage 
 Its wrath strove mightily, then onward sped 
 With increased rage — from thee unconquered, 
 fled. 
 What tale of courage writ on History's page 
 Exceeds thine own? E'en now, when stripped 
 by age 
 Of all thy boasted strength, decayed and dead, 
 And shorn of every limb, thou standest there 
 Proud in thy desolation. Soon thy lot 
 Shall be as humble as when in thy prime 
 It was exalted. Rent by gale to share 
 
 The common fate, e'en then thou fallest not 
 The tempest's but the victim of old Time. 
 63 
 
BY STILL WATEES. 
 
 Breathe low, ye reeds along the river's brim; 
 And calm, clear waters, smoothly glide along, 
 While far witihin thy depths a countless tlhrong 
 Of noiseless shadows waver, dance, and swim 
 So placidly. Oh, dove on that low limb 
 That I'ghily bends, pour forth thy plaintive song 
 And tell of love so deep, so pure and strong 
 That every saddened heart and eyes grown dim 
 With tears might be made glad; for here in these 
 Deep solitudes a calm tranquility 
 Dispels the tumult in our hearts until 
 Its wildest raging lulls into a breeze 
 As soft as fanned the Master's ^brow when He 
 Had spoken to the tempest, "Peace, be still." 
 64 
 
WHEEE REST REMAINETH. 
 
 Dear little vale, a sense of calm, sweet rest 
 Falls over me; and, lingering in thy lap, 
 I hear the lusty "red-head's" dheerful rap 
 Wliile chopping out of solid oak a nest; 
 And fresh from flowers my steps so rudely 
 pressed, 
 Are odors rich and rare as e'er distilled 
 By fairy chemists though most highly skilled 
 In all of Flora's arts. Is he not blest 
 Whose weary feet, though wandering oft astray, 
 Lead 'him to lose by lingering here awhile 
 In sweet forgetfulness his sore distress, 
 To dream amid thy beauty's wild display, 
 To nestle in the sunshine of fhy smile 
 And feel the wooing of thy warm caress? 
 65 
 
TO A BROWN-COATED WAEBLEE. 
 
 Thou tiny form of flutt'ring melody ! 
 
 Thou feathered fountain of inconstant song! 
 No brooklet rippling noisily along 
 Its fair, green valley pours forth half the glee, 
 The wild abandon and the ecstasy 
 
 That gladdens thy clear notes ; no noisy throng 
 Of wild-wood warblers piping clear and strong 
 Can tempt thee into boisterous rivalry. 
 Deep hidden in that 'bower where friendly boughs 
 Of sheltering hawthorn screen from curious 
 gaze 
 Thy sober mate within her downy nest — 
 There twitter low thine oft-repeated vows 
 
 And sing through all the happy s-ummer days 
 The joy that's throbbing in thy little breast. 
 66 
 
niSCELLANEOUS 
 POEMS. 
 
BOYS AGAIN. 
 
 O these summer afternoons! 
 
 Let's roll up our pantaloons 
 As we did in boyhood long since passed and gone; 
 
 Long before old Father Time, 
 
 Scowling at us, made us climb 
 Homeward up Life's hill and put our shoes and 
 stockings on. 
 
 By the old pond's reedy brink, 
 
 Where the cattle come to drink. 
 Let us wait and watch them slowly wade out 
 where 
 
 All the clouds of summer skies 
 
 Dance before their blinking eyes, 
 Gazing in the water with a lazy, languid stare. 
 
 Then ito listen to the call 
 Of the snipes and frogs and all ! 
 And the gabble of the wood-ducks as they glide 
 In som'e narrow strait that leads 
 Through the sedge-grass and the reeds 
 Outward to the thicket on the water's wooded 
 side. 
 
 69 
 
70 J^oys Again 
 
 Oh ! the blackbird's mellow trill, 
 
 And the old delicious thrill ! 
 As we stood in silent rapture long ago, 
 
 Where so many joys were found 
 
 By us truants, loafing 'round 
 That old tropic tangle that our boyhood used to 
 know. 
 
 I can see the grape-vine swing 
 
 In the shady opening, 
 There among the tall old oaks that whisper low, 
 
 Wishing you and I were there 
 
 For a single hour to share 
 All the glee that drowns them in a joyous over- 
 flow. 
 
 'Neath the old persimmon trees, 
 
 Gently swaying in the breeze, 
 S^hade and sunshine mingled like a mystic veil, 
 
 Let us listen to the lium 
 
 Of mosquitoes, while from some 
 Covert in the thicket comes the whistle of a quail. 
 
 O'er the sunny meadow-lands, 
 With our straw hats in our hands, 
 We can chase the bumble-bees that buzz and 
 boom 
 
Boys Again 71 
 
 'Round the flow'rs so lazily 
 In their harvesting, wliile we 
 Fairly drink the sweetness of the fragrant clover 
 bloom. 
 
 In the wheat-field, too, we'll hide 
 
 Where the wavelets smoothly glide, 
 As they chase each other o'er a lake of gold. 
 
 All ithe world seems now to sing — 
 
 Seems to us and everything 
 Just as full of happiness as ever it can hold. 
 
 Boys again! — hip! hip! hurrah! 
 
 All that mortals ever saw 
 Of old country gladness conies back home to-day; 
 
 Flowers and sunshine, s'hady trees, 
 
 Laug^hing streams, and birds and boes 
 All are smiling, beckoning, and calling us away. 
 
A SUMMER BLOSSOM. 
 
 I saw a maiden stand — 
 Deep hid in bloom were her bare feet 
 While upward reached the blossoms sweet 
 
 To kiss her dimpled hand. 
 
 And standing there she smiled — 
 So bright the dancing sunbeams played 
 In radiant circles 'round the maid 
 
 That she, this 'happy child, 
 
 Seemed but a blossom grown 
 A little taller and more fair 
 Than any other blooming there, 
 
 Brighter and fuller blown. 
 72 
 
ALONGl THE AMBEAW RIVER. 
 
 Here when the harebells blossom again! 
 
 Here when the frosty old world grows young! 
 Here when the snow is gone and when 
 
 Out of the smiling sky is flung 
 Sprinkles of stars all silvery white, 
 
 Drippings of crystal like Nectar of old 
 Brimming in cups made of splinters of light, 
 
 Burnished rays beaten to vessels of gold! 
 
 Here w'here the grasses are cool and sweet! 
 
 More velvety far, this carpet of green. 
 Softer and smocxther to restless bare feet 
 
 Than any e'er trod on by dudhess or queen! 
 Here where the shadows fall heavy and deep 
 
 O'er paths that lead off into dreamlands of rest, 
 Where the phantoms that haunt us themselves fall 
 asleep 
 Like an innocent babe on its fond mother's 
 breast. 
 
 72> 
 
74 Along the Ambraxv River 
 
 Here where the ehns and the sycamores Hft 
 
 Vainly their hands to readh up to the skies — 
 Skies t'hait peep smiHngly down through tlie rift 
 
 Where our fair river so peacefully lies! 
 Ah, to just lie here and feel not a care! 
 
 Hearts burdened not with a dull sense of woe, 
 But light as the swallows that skim through the 
 air 
 
 Dipping to drink of the coolness below. 
 
 Ambraw, fair Ambraw, flow gently along; 
 
 Let the low laugh of thy wavelets at play 
 Be the sweet undertones in the glad song 
 
 That the earth sings to us all the long day! 
 Trapsing and lisping its water move on. 
 
 Smiling and dimpling far down to the sea, 
 Down where the deep calls from dawn unto dawn. 
 
 Calls as eternity calls you and me. 
 
MUNDANE AND ULTRAMUNDANE. 
 
 Where does he Hve? In the boundless blue. 
 
 He rides and revels amid the stars, 
 And laughs as his charger das'hes through 
 
 The sunHght's glitter of golden bars. 
 
 He tunes his harp and his fingers keep 
 The time, with the gay and glitt'ring throng 
 
 Of circling orbs in their onward sweep, 
 To the numbers grand of that endless song. 
 
 He sits enrapt at the trembling strings, 
 
 And a passing glance does he scarce bestow 
 
 On our little round of earthly things 
 And this fair, green planet here below. 
 
 But here, as we stand 'neath the old orchard tree 
 
 And feel the glad warmth of our bright sunny 
 
 clime, 
 
 We're as gay as the birdies above in their glee — 
 
 And, Love — don't you see? — it is nesting-time. 
 
 75 
 
A RUSTIC SKETCH. 
 
 Just a quaint and homely picture of the days of 
 
 long ago, 
 When faces wrinkled, old and worn were bright 
 
 with youth's warm glow — 
 A picture of a maiden with a youngster by her 
 
 side, 
 Both conscious of the bashfulness that neither one 
 
 can hide. 
 
 Far of¥, the boisterous laughter of a noisy crowd 
 drops low. 
 
 Drops downward into silence as they slowly 
 homeward go — 
 
 As they walk slowly home from that old church- 
 house on the hill. 
 
 With nothing to distur<b them, for the world is 
 hushed and still. 
 
 Yes, everything is silent, save the cricket's pierc- 
 ing sound 
 
 And the music of the katydids heard everywhere 
 around. 
 
 For they always keep insisting till Fm tired, and 
 I declare, 
 
 I can sympathize with Katie for the blame she has 
 to bear. 
 
 76 
 
A Rustic Sketch 77 
 
 And now this youth and maiden — shall we listen 
 
 as they go 
 So contented-like along the road and walking 
 
 rather slow? 
 Shall we listen while they talk about the weather 
 
 and about 
 Just when the corn will ripen and the wheat crop 
 
 'be "put out?" 
 
 And then they talk of other things, a neighbor- 
 hood romance, 
 
 A spelling-bee or singing-school ; and then right 
 Ihere, perchance. 
 
 The talking stops, for Sarah's curls, by autumn 
 breezes fanned, 
 
 Have thrilled him in a manner that no one can 
 understand. 
 
 The conversation now resumed has naught to do 
 
 with crops; 
 We can't tell what it is about, we only know it 
 
 drops 
 To nothing but a murmur soft and low as any 
 
 breeze 
 That ever crooned for lovers as it loafed among 
 
 the trees. 
 
78 A Rustic Sketch 
 
 Still on they wander 'neath the stars that peep 
 from out the blue 
 
 And wink at one another, just as they are wont 
 to do 
 
 When young folks thus surrender to Dame Na- 
 ture's dearest arts 
 
 With that old-fashioned, timid sort of gladness in 
 their hearts. 
 
 Then from the highway, by the path along the 
 
 meadow's side, 
 They near her father's dwelling as it seems to 
 
 slyly hide 
 Among the tall old locust trees, there patiently 
 
 to await 
 In ambush for the maiden when they reach the 
 
 dooryard gate. 
 
 But now we would ncrt watch lihem, even thoug'h it 
 
 were allowed, 
 The modest moon veils her fair face behind a 
 
 fleecy cloud, 
 And just peeps out in time to see John Henry as 
 
 he goes 
 From Sarah Jane, who's blushing just as red as 
 
 any rose. 
 
TO AN OWL. 
 
 I. 
 
 Thine eyes are round and yellow as the moon 
 That floats in majesty above the night — 
 
 Fair, radiant orb, a golden mystic rune 
 
 Writ in the heavens the which to read arig'ht, 
 When twilight deepens, thou with noiseless 
 flight 
 
 Dost seek that old decaying bough. How wise 
 Thou seemest, sitting there and of that light 
 
 Drinking so deeply that thy sober eyes 
 
 Are swelling with the radiance raining from the 
 skies. 
 
 11. 
 
 What wisdom dost thou gather gazing there 
 
 Hour after hour in contemplative mood? 
 The heart's desires when breathed upon the air 
 Are mingled with the voices of the wood ; 
 But fateful breezes waft them back — tlie good 
 We longed for changed to evil, changed as well 
 The p'hantoms that we feared — ^till what we 
 should 
 Desire or loathe, diviner, canst thou tell? 
 What charm canst thou disclose 'gainst Time's 
 conjuring spell? 
 
 79 
 
8o To an Owl 
 
 III. 
 
 But one sonorous, ghostly, weird "too-woo!" 
 While grandly uttered comes a slow reply 
 
 From some old scraggy, gnarled oak ; but who 
 Can understand them? As the echoes die 
 Away we ponder, ponder still and sigh 
 
 That we must be so dull. If good or ill 
 
 Lies just before, these eyes themselves must spy 
 
 It, though wise owls may sit and stare until 
 
 The nig^ht departs and daAvn beholds them bhnk- 
 ing still. 
 
OUR SOWING. 
 
 The traveler plucks the ripened seeds 
 
 And casts diem idly on the air, 
 While soft winds bear them gently down 
 
 And they are gone, he knows not where. 
 
 But though forgotten by the hand 
 That cast them forth, they crowd the way — 
 
 Rank, poisonous weeds and briars and thorns 
 All mingled with the flowerets gay. 
 
 Be noble thoughts and kindly acts 
 Alone the seeds that we shall sow, 
 
 And flowers of love on every side 
 In sweet extravagance shall grow. 
 
 And those who tread the selfsame paths 
 That we have trod will thanks outpour 
 
 From grateful hearts and ever bless 
 The pilgrims who have gone before. 
 8i 
 
TO THE BEOOK. 
 
 Little dimpled, dancing pool, 
 In thy depths the shadows play 
 
 Like fair nymphs that lave in cool, 
 Limpid streams, then hie away. 
 
 Hie away to caves below 
 
 When the gaze of am'rous eyes 
 
 Wake in virgin breasts of snow 
 Flutterings of strange surprise. 
 
 Dance and dimple in the sun, 
 Laugh and gleam in merry glee ; 
 
 Long I gaze and yet not one 
 True reflection can I see. 
 
 And a wreath of brighter smiles 
 Rimples o'er thy bonny face 
 
 At those doubts thy roguish wiles 
 Lead from out their lurking place. 
 82 
 
To the Brook 83 
 
 But when on thy mossy brink 
 
 Down I kneel, how eagerly 
 In my feverish thirst I drink 
 
 Of thy sparkling purity ! 
 
 Not a fabled drink of old, 
 
 Nectar, Mead or Hippocrene, 
 Served in brimming cups of gold 
 
 Could compare with this, I ween. 
 
 Ah, I know a maiden fair! — 
 
 And the witchery that lies 
 Mingled with the azure there 
 
 Of her laug*hter-loving eyes! 
 
 Laughing eyes — and yet how blind 
 
 Are mine own that cannot see 
 Through her dear deceits and find 
 
 All those secrets hid from me. 
 
 Yet one thing I can but know. 
 That her heart is fond and true, 
 
 Though her lips ne'er told me so, 
 Save as lips will sometimes do. 
 
84 To the Brook 
 
 Save as lips half-willingly 
 
 Trembling yield and still protest — 
 Yield, then smile with ecstasy 
 
 In their sweetest way and best. 
 
 Little brooklet, should we build 
 On 'thy 'l^anks our little cot, 
 
 When the day's glad notes are stilled 
 Let thine own be silent not. 
 
 But through all the starry night 
 Laugh and sing, and Love and [ 
 
 In our dreams shall thy delight 
 Hear as some sweet lullaby. 
 
AS WE USED TO KNOW HIM. 
 
 I'm thinking that Happiness takes for his friend 
 
 The boy with the freckled face, 
 With his elbows torn and his knees scrubbed out 
 
 And a very conspicuous trace 
 Of soot on his cheeks and dirt on his chin, 
 
 While the locks of bis sandy hair 
 Tassel out through the holes of his brin.'less hat. 
 
 And his eyes bave a knowing stare. 
 
 With poke-berry juice his fingers are s^tained 
 
 In the manufacture of ink, 
 While his pockets bulge out with a corpulent air, 
 
 Too full for their contents to cHnk. 
 His ankles are scratdhed by the briars and thorns 
 
 As deep through the tangles he wades, 
 Or loafs by the creek that lazily strolls 
 
 In and out through the dark forest shades. 
 
 He whistles a tune as wild as the trill 
 
 Which the mocking-bird warbles in spring, 
 
 Or still as a shadow, an angler he sits. 
 Rigged out with a pin-hook and string. 
 85 
 
86 As We Used to Know Him 
 
 The leaves gently murmur and lig^htly the cork 
 Bobs out on the waves beaming bright 
 
 With the dance of the shadows and gleam of the 
 sun 
 As he patiently waits for a bite. 
 
AND SUCH IS LIFE. 
 
 Silken sunshine soft and fine, 
 Laughing lips, and eyes that shine 
 Bright enough — and yet how coy ! — 
 To entrap the winged boy. 
 
 Pensive sighs and dreams of bliss, 
 Plighted vows and lover's kiss, 
 Whispered words and warm caress, 
 And ecstatic foolishness. 
 
 Orange blossoms, wedding bells, 
 Crimson blushes, fond farewells. 
 Mingled smiles with girlish tears. 
 Buoyant hopes alloyed with fears. 
 
 Wee sma' tots with outstretched hands, 
 Clamorous in their demands 
 For the wealth of care and love 
 None but mother hearts can give. 
 
 87 
 
88 And S7(ch Is Lije 
 
 Busy hands in mild distress, 
 Struggling with their lonesomeness- 
 Still are heard at dusk and dawn 
 Ghosts of voices that are gone. 
 
 Hearts still warm, thou^gh aged now, 
 Frosted 'hair, and wrinkled brow, 
 Withered cheeks, and dim old eyes 
 Gazing into Paradise. 
 
COPPERTOES. 
 
 Little Coppertoes, the merry, 
 
 Laughing, dimpled, dancing elf! 
 In his dreams he knew no fairv 
 
 Half so happy as himself. 
 How he crowed with c'hildislh pleasure 
 
 In 'his beaming face at +hosc 
 Little boots we fondly treasure ! 
 
 So we called him "Coppertoes." 
 
 Never golden sunliglit gleaming 
 
 From the gems of sparkling dew 
 Brighter than the life-light beaming 
 
 In his roguish eyes of blue. 
 Sweet, the rill's low ripple after 
 
 Gentle showers when swift it flows; 
 Sweeter far, the merry laughter 
 
 And the shout of Coppertoes. 
 
 And the ringlets he is throwing 
 Back are softer than the breeze 
 
 As it fans his cheeks while blowing 
 Showers of blossoms from the trees. 
 89 
 
go Coffe7'toes 
 
 Fond may be the warm caressing 
 When tlie sunhght woos the rose; 
 
 Fonder still, my own lips pressing 
 Those warm lips of Coppertoes. 
 
 Ah! thong^h now our tears are falling, 
 
 Death 'but strengthens all our love; 
 And we hear a faint voice calling 
 
 To us from tjhat home above. 
 So a sweet perfume of gladness. 
 
 Now the summer south wind blows 
 To us as we wait in sadness 
 
 At the grave of Coppertoes. 
 
 And our hearts look upward longing 
 
 For the Father's welcome home 
 With the white-ro'bed angels thronging 
 
 'Round Finn when He bids us come. 
 We know not the time of meeting, 
 
 God, the Father, only knows. 
 But we'll know the welcome greeting 
 
 Of our angel, Coppertoes. 
 
I HEARD HER SING. 
 
 I heard 'her sing — and saw as in a dream 
 
 A tiny lakelet nestling 'mong the hills, 
 And fairy eyes with laughter all agleam 
 
 In search of perfumed sweets that spring 
 distills ; 
 And as low ripples and the fitful dip 
 
 Of oars came idly on the evening breeze, 
 Two lovers, lost in their companionship, 
 
 Rowed silent 'neath the overiianging trees. 
 
 I heard her sing — and saw a face aglow 
 
 With all the warmth and tenderness and love 
 Of motherhood ; and crooning soft and low 
 
 Her lullaby, the mother bent above 
 Her sleeping "babe and gazed with eyes that 
 seemed 
 
 To see beyond that downy nest, far out 
 Along the pathway where the sunlight gleamed 
 
 Or night's dark shadows gloomed the way with 
 doubt. 
 
 91 
 
92 1 Heard Her Sincr 
 
 i^ 
 
 Again she sang — and then an aged pair 
 
 Serenely smiled and looked toward the west 
 Where eve's low sinking sun their silver hair 
 
 Sought to adorn (ere they s'hould seek their 
 rest ) 
 With Time's old tlieft, the old-time wealth of gold. 
 
 So waited they the sunset, rest, and then 
 The waking, for with earthly things grown old, 
 
 Life's glad new morn should make them young 
 again. 
 
BACKWARD LOOK. 
 
 Come, let us take a walk down through the ages, 
 Down amid the tombs where the buried nations 
 lie; 
 Turn History's tattered leaves and read the moldy 
 pages 
 While Clio sadly chants a dirge that closes with 
 a sigh. 
 
 Where is all their grandeur, all their pride, pomp, 
 and glory? 
 Search amid the ruins of the cities passed away; 
 Here and there a monument remains to teli the 
 istory 
 Of a nation's boasted wealth now moldering in 
 decay. 
 
 Boast not, haug^hty nations, lest Time your pride 
 should humble. 
 For loud has Nature spoken with a fiery tongue 
 of flame : 
 
 93 
 
94 
 
 Backward Look 
 
 ''All that feeble man shall build, back to dust shall 
 crumble, 
 And only leave for coming years remembrance 
 of a name." 
 
 Come, let us wander back; cease your merry 
 laughter, 
 As we tread the mold above the places where 
 they sleep, 
 And gaze upon the tombs that to nations coming 
 after 
 Whisper of the harvest that t^he angel. Death, 
 shall reap. 
 
A FANTASY 
 
 Softly the twilight glows 
 
 Fade into night's repose, 
 And in a wonderland of dreams 
 I wander where low laugh of streams 
 
 So musically flows, 
 
 Where limpid waters play. 
 
 Then splash and dash away, 
 And wander onward, moving slow 
 In discontent and murmuring low 
 
 Because they cannot stay. 
 
 A tropic forest wide 
 
 Spreads out on every side; 
 And waving palm and tangled vine 
 So thickly weave and intertwine 
 
 That I can scarce divide 
 
 The tangled mass of green 
 
 That, like a glitt'ring screen. 
 Would bar my fancy's pathway through 
 That fairy-land and hide from view 
 
 The flowers that intervene. 
 95 
 
96 A Fantasy 
 
 Those flowers so fresh and bright 
 
 That open to the Hght 
 That in its deep intensity 
 Pours through the leafy canopy, 
 
 They burst upon my sight 
 
 Like holocausts ablaze ^ 
 
 With all the mingled rays 
 Of sofestest shades and brig^htest glows, 
 The lily and the blood-red rose 
 
 In one fantastic maze! 
 
 I hear the awful roar 
 
 Of thunder-storms that pour 
 Their torrents down — a blinding flash, 
 A moment's stillness, then a crash, 
 
 Then heavier than before 
 
 The tempest's rage; at last 
 
 The mighty storm is past; 
 And as the dripping clouds roll by, 
 High arching in the vaulted sky, 
 
 God's promise is o'ercast. 
 
 A hermit lone has strayed 
 
 Into the forest shade; 
 And in these awful solitudes 
 Of murmuring brooks and sighing woodi 
 
A F'antasy 97 
 
 His quiet home has made. 
 
 A quaint fantastic bower 
 
 That in some dreamy hour 
 His fancy taught his hands to twine 
 From Hving branch and growing vine 
 
 And bright and fragrant flower. 
 
 Did he in sorrow's tear 
 
 See visions restful here? 
 Or was it deep ecstatic bHss, 
 Those first sweet joys of Psyche's kiss, 
 
 That led his footsteps near, 
 
 Till on his wond'ring sight 
 
 Burst forth the splendors bright 
 Of this fair land, so that no more 
 He sought the haunts he knew before 
 
 Far from this realm of lig'ht. 
 
 Where'er his wand'ring feet 
 
 Might lead, he found some sweet 
 Surprise; from every leafy tree 
 Rained showers of sweetest melody; 
 
 And in 'his quaint retreat, 
 
 When darkness gathered 'round 
 
 And on the leaf-strewn ground 
 Where wooed to sleep by opiate flowers 
 
A Pantasy 
 
 He lay, he heard in dreamy hours 
 Confused bursts of sound. 
 
 Strange melodies were sung, 
 
 And fairy minstrels flung 
 From trembling chords strains far more light 
 Than any earth-born minstrel might; 
 
 Yet still he heard among 
 
 Sweet sounds a harsher glee, 
 
 A boisterous revelry 
 That might have poured from demon throats 
 To drown that ecstasy of notes 
 
 So airy, light and free. 
 
 He seemed to trembling stand 
 
 Upon the border-land 
 Dividing earth and spirit realm; 
 While sight and sound might overwhelm 
 Him, yet not e'en his hand 
 
 Could reach across and hold 
 
 His friend's nor feel the cold 
 And clammy, deathly demon's grasp 
 That soon should change to fiery clasp, 
 
 Should him their arms enfold. 
 
 No longer stands he there; 
 A spirit form, as fair 
 
A Pantasv 
 
 As ever dwelt in Paradise 
 
 Or floated through the star-lit skies 
 
 On silver clouds in rare, 
 
 Soft draperies of light, 
 
 With hand of snowy white 
 That ever pointing on before 
 His faltering footsteps leads till o'er 
 
 His pathway hangs no night. 
 
 For nig^ht's dark, sullen gloom 
 
 Before an empty tomb 
 Has vanis'hed as the morning light 
 Into his bower breaks on his sig^ht, 
 
 And into rosy bloom 
 
 Burst forth the living walls; 
 
 While soft and amorous calls 
 Unto its mate a piper sings. 
 And as through dewy boughs it swings 
 
 A crystal shower falls. 
 
 Now as the days flew by. 
 
 Naught cared he but to lie 
 In dreams, for only then was he 
 That fairy form allowed to see. 
 
 That spirit whom no eye 
 
 Of flesh could e'er behold; 
 
 99 
 
lOO A Fantasy. 
 
 And as ithe buds unfold, 
 Wooed by the sun's warm, shimmering beams, 
 So his own spirit in his dreams 
 
 Grew confident and bold. 
 
 Alas, what child of dust, 
 
 Though weak yet prone to trust 
 To his own choice of good or ill, 
 But thinks that all against his will 
 
 Is aught but right and just. 
 
 How sadly now doth 'he 
 
 Obey the stern decree 
 That till long years shall pass away 
 He yet must wait, till from the clay 
 
 His spirit is made free. 
 
 The years flit swiftly by, 
 
 Till age bedims his eye. 
 Till feeble, faltering is his tread 
 And hoary locks adorn his head ; 
 
 And oft a weary sig'h 
 
 He breathes; but hope grows bright, 
 
 That form upon his sight 
 Appears whose sweet enchantment brings 
 The soul's release of fettered wings 
 
 Plumed for celestial flig^ht. 
 
A F'antasy loi 
 
 And softly now s'he said, 
 "Lift up thy feeble head, 
 And as thy gaze is turned aloft, 
 Around a mystic circle oft 
 
 You sweep with tott'ring tread.' 
 He now the ghostly play 
 Begins without delay; 
 He faster moves, he lighter grows. 
 Burst on his sig^ht etihereal glows. 
 His spirit floats away. 
 
THE FOUNDING OF A KINGDOM. 
 
 A man and a maiden ambitious became 
 
 And sighed, as 'they looked into each other's 
 eyes, 
 For a kingdom where they s'hould win honor and 
 fame 
 By a poHcy deemed most exceedingly wise. 
 
 So, often together in council t^ey met; 
 
 And many land weighty their words, till at last 
 They would wake with a start and a conscious 
 regret 
 That as fleet-winged moments the hours had 
 flown past. 
 
 Their plans at last finished, a palace diey reared — 
 A palace of rather diminutive size. 
 
 But large enough plenty for them, it appeared. 
 As up from their kingdom it smiled at the skies. 
 
 Then, happy together, they sat on the throne. 
 These sovereigns, the subjects of each other's 
 sway; 
 And soon from their revenues wealthy were 
 grown, 
 Ten talents in kisses paid three times a day. 
 
 loa 
 
DOWNWARD FLOATING. 
 
 Adown the stream our little boat 
 Glides with the gentlest motion, 
 
 And bears us smoothly onward to 
 Eternity's broad ocean. 
 
 O'er dreamy depths and pebbly shoals, 
 Where shadows lightly playing 
 
 Trip hand in hand above the sand 
 With truant sunbeams straying. 
 
 In sheltered cove where every vine 
 O'erhanging, like the smiling 
 
 Narcissus, sips from shadowy lips 
 The kiss that's so beguiHng. 
 
 And as in dimphng depths we gaze 
 To watch the wavelets dancing, 
 
 Bringht elfish eyes in merry guise 
 Are upward at us glancing. 
 
 10^ 
 
104 Dozvnzvard JRloating 
 
 Then on and on, with many a crook 
 And curve, our course is bending, 
 
 Borne on the tide grown deep and wide. 
 With Hghts and shadows blending. 
 
 Till deeper now the shadows grow, 
 And dark the night is falling, 
 
 While clouds that rise to veil the skies 
 Grow ominous and appalling. 
 
 With sudden fear our hearts beat wild 
 As louder rolls the thunder — 
 
 A bhnding flash ! A deafening crash 
 Of heavens rent asunder! 
 
 But through the gloom the first faint blush, 
 
 The eastern skies adorning, 
 Glov/s warm with light till darkest night 
 
 Has melted into morning. 
 
 O glorious light! and golden floods 
 Of sunshine 'round us falling! 
 
 While just before, we hear the roar 
 Of breakers seaward calling. 
 
AT LITTLE MARY'S GRAVE. 
 
 I stand beside this little mound that's covered 
 
 o'er with green, 
 Then backward through the long dim aisles of 
 
 years that intervene 
 Between the long ago and now I wander till my 
 
 eyes 
 Are gladdened by the beauty of my boyhood's 
 
 azure skies. 
 
 And oh! the joys, the raptures that the boyish 
 
 heart can feel ! 
 E'en as I fondly hasten back sweet strains of 
 
 music steal 
 From out that region far away till this old heart 
 
 of mine 
 Is throbbing to the measure of a melody divine. 
 
 Then, too, I see bright angel faces peep from out 
 the skies; 
 
 Iheir snowy ro»bes they've laid aside and put on 
 human guise, 
 
 And with their boisterous laughter and their 
 merry childish glee 
 
 Trip gaily out along the path I tread to wel- 
 come me. 
 
 105 
 
io6 At Little Mary'^s Grave 
 
 No heartier welcome have I met since years and 
 
 years ago, 
 When these old friends drew 'round me with their 
 
 faces all aglow 
 With warmest friendship, and I clasp each 
 
 chubby, dimpled hand 
 With eagerness that only old-time fr-ends can 
 
 understand. 
 
 One timid hand I hold and gaze within a face as 
 
 brig^ht 
 As ever shone with sunshine while the others fade 
 
 from sight, 
 And as of old we wander through the green old 
 
 forest shade, 
 Where flowers smiled at squirrels that peeped at 
 
 us half afraid. 
 
 Then out beneath the great blue vault we watched 
 
 the clouds roll by, 
 And child-like wondered where they went and 
 
 why they soared so high. 
 And if the winged fairies ever left their forest 
 
 home 
 To flit aloft among the clouds and bathe within 
 
 their foam. 
 
A^ Little Mary'^s Grave 107 
 
 And then for happy hours we watched the busy 
 
 bees that rolled 
 In beds of pollen till their coats were dusted o'er 
 
 with gold, 
 Then laden with their treasure, flew across the 
 
 fields for home 
 To rest awhile within the hive and buzz around 
 
 the comb. 
 
 There are no friendships like the old when we 
 were young and free 
 
 From selfishness and pride and cant and vain 
 hypocrisy, 
 
 When in our innocence we loved just as the sky- 
 lark wings 
 
 At early morn its heavenward flight, and sings 
 because it sings. 
 
 The sunshine ne'er has been so brig^ht, the bird's 
 song ne'er so gay, 
 
 The rose's breath not half so sweet since that long- 
 vanished day, 
 
 Wlhen 'mid the clover-bloom we played or by the 
 winding stream 
 
 That with its old glad music babbles onward in 
 my dream. 
 
MIDNIGHT LONGINCtS FOR THE MOEROW. 
 
 I. . 
 
 To-morrow's sun will giid anew the earth 
 
 That's cankered into loathed ugliness ; 
 From poisonous mold will give new beatuies birth, 
 
 And frighten these gray mists till fleet they 
 press 
 
 With ghostly feet the hills that in distress 
 They hasten o'er; will kindle into flame 
 
 The stagnant waters ; with its warm caress 
 Bring to the modest morn a blush of shame, 
 And to each burdened heart a meed of joy pro- 
 claim. 
 
 II. 
 
 Oh hasten, winds of morning, and away ! 
 
 These feet s'hall follow wifh as swift a pace 
 As their scant strength will warrant; this dark day 
 Has wearied them, but they shall find new 
 
 grace 
 To bear me up, and I will keep my face 
 io8 
 
Midnight Longings for the Morrow 109 
 
 Turned toward the dawn where ye are tending. 
 Speed: 
 Full soon the somber shadows will give place 
 To fair Aurora; then, a trembling reed 
 No more I'll stand, but follow where thy swift 
 wings lead. 
 
THE AMISH MAIDEN. 
 
 She is such a dainty maiden, 
 
 With 'her tenderest grace and charms 
 Rich with gold her hair is laden; 
 
 Pure and white, her dimpled arms. 
 
 Pure and fair, with just the faintest 
 Little hint of summer tan; 
 
 And her bonnet of the quaintest, 
 Queerest architect'ral plan. 
 
 Queerest bonnet e'er a fairy 
 Milliner with thoughtful mien 
 
 Deftly fashioned for an airy, 
 
 Happy, modest, earth-born queen. 
 
 And her eyes, the clearest, bluest, 
 Deepest eyes that ever shone. 
 
 Shyly told the sweetest, truest 
 Tale in answer to my own. 
 no 
 
The Amish Maiden 
 
 Dote, ye snobs of wealth and fashion, 
 On fair forms of gaudy show. 
 
 In whose breasts the warmest passion 
 Cannot melt the frost and snow. 
 
 But for me I'll choose the bonny 
 
 Lassie in her sober gray, 
 With a heart as warm and sunny 
 
 As the balmiest of May. 
 
 And where beauty fast encloses 
 Our wee cot with sheltering care 
 
 In a labyrinth of roses, 
 We will snugly nestle there. 
 
 There, to live and love while passes 
 Year on year with hurried pace, 
 
 Till at last the low, sweet grasses 
 Bend above our resting place. 
 
 Ill 
 
JUST LET ME REST. 
 
 Just let me rest! These weary feet 
 Have borne me through the sultry heat 
 
 Of noontide on my way 
 From far ofif scenes where breezes blow 
 O'er meadow-lands of long ago 
 
 Perfumes of sunny May. 
 
 Far back I see that pathway swerve 
 From right to Teft, then crook and curve 
 
 Through shine and woodland g^loom, 
 Then, stretching outward, swerve again 
 A winding pathway o'er the plain 
 
 Where wayside roses bloom. 
 
 Then onward, upward, winding still, 
 It climbs Life's rough and rugged hill 
 
 Until it ends at last 
 Where now in hope I stand before 
 This grave while fondly musing o'er 
 
 The mile-stones I have passed. 
 
 112 
 
Just Let Ale Rest 113 
 
 Then weary, footsore, let me rest! 
 May I, as 'gainst its mother's breast 
 
 The babe lies dreamily 
 In lazy drowse of cradle tunes, 
 Here rest, While dear old Nature croons 
 
 A low, sweet lullaby. 
 
WOODS OF YOUTH. 
 
 These prairies wide may proudly boast 
 
 Of all their fields of golden grain 
 And herds of cattle, smooth and sleek, 
 
 That idly graze upon the plain. 
 And waving meadows yielding up 
 
 Their royal offerings of perfume, 
 And mingling with the rose's breath 
 
 The sweetness of the clover bloom. 
 
 Yes, they may 'bloom like gardens fair, 
 
 And offer up their wealth untold. 
 Reward the weary farmer's toil 
 
 And fill his ample purse with gold ; 
 But those dehg-hts which quick uncork 
 
 The barefoot urchin's bottled glee 
 Are found in woods and laughing streams 
 
 Where wanton Nature revels free. 
 
 Oh, woods in spring! Thy waving boughs 
 
 And singing birds and smiling flowers 
 Now seem to call and beckon me 
 
 To walk in thine enchanted bowers. 
 What boy is there w^hose heart would not 
 
 At such a summons faster beat; 
 Or What could lend him more of joy. 
 
 Or meet response with readier feet? 
 114 
 
Woods of Youth 115 
 
 And as I walk within thy shades, 
 
 The feathered pipers in the trees, 
 As pleased to have one auditor. 
 
 Awake their sweetest melodies. 
 In tuneful rivalry they pipe; 
 
 The air is laden with their glee. 
 The grandest of all orchestras 
 
 A concert holding just for me. 
 
 The dainty harebell at my feet 
 
 Is smiling in her rdbe of blue. 
 And buttercups and daisies white 
 
 From out the grass creep into view. 
 The pouting violet hangs her head 
 
 And o'er her rivaled beauty grieves. 
 While at the folly which she shows 
 
 I hear the laughter of the leaves. 
 
 The grand old oaks stand proudly up 
 
 As kings of all the lordly trees. 
 As chiefs who marshalled hosts command 
 
 And wave their banners in the breeze ; 
 Yet battle's din and martial strife 
 
 Awake no echoes in these shades, 
 For Heaven's truce is over all 
 
 These s'hadowy vales and sunny glades. 
 
1 1 6 Woods of Touth 
 
 In deeper shades I fhread my way 
 
 Wherein a sunbeam scarce can fall; 
 Here silence reigns, for cheerful sounds 
 
 Of Hfe are hushed and silent all. 
 Like some cathedral old, it seems, 
 
 With cool damp walls of crumbling stone- 
 Walls whose somber gray is greened 
 
 With ivy and with moss o'ergrown. 
 
 And 'here with bov/ed, uncovered head, 
 
 Like some devoted monk I stand. 
 Comparing with this earthly gloom 
 
 The beauty of the shining strand; 
 While soft and low and far away. 
 
 Like floating murmurs from the main, 
 The wak'ning echoes and the wind 
 
 Unite in one harmonious strain. 
 
 Oh ! should I wander far away 
 
 Where Fortune leads or Duty calls — 
 Where'er it be my lot to dwell, 
 
 In lowly cot or palace halls — 
 Whate'er the future brings to me 
 
 Of happiness or toil and care, 
 I'll wander through the Woods of Youth 
 
 In fancy breathing perfumes rare. 
 
THE SAME OLD SONO. 
 
 (Reunion Poem.) 
 
 Once again the same old story ! 
 
 Same old tune and same old song! 
 With our hearts brim full of glory, 
 
 Let the old world jog along! 
 
 What care we how fast or slowly 
 
 II moves on in that old way, 
 When a pure and calm and holy 
 
 Joy falls over us to-day? 
 
 Shake, old Friends — we stand enraptured, 
 
 Smiling as in days of yore, 
 Just to think t^he past has captured 
 
 Us and led us home once more ! 
 
 Led us home, the song of gladness 
 In our hearts made sweeter still 
 
 By that undertone of sadness 
 Woven in with nicest skill ! 
 117 
 
Ii8 The Same Old Song 
 
 Chant the mystic numbers clearer, 
 Silvery sweet, then faint and low ; 
 
 No new song can e'er be dearer 
 Than the one of long ago. 
 
 And we'll ever, in the coming 
 Years that carry us along, 
 
 Find the same delight in humming 
 This old tune to t'his old song. 
 
FAREWELL. 
 
 Farewell, dear friend, for tlioii art going now; 
 
 That rhythmic beat grows fainter all the while; 
 Dark, purple pencilings trace thy pure, white 
 brow ; 
 
 And those warm lips grow rigid with a smile. 
 
 Farewell ! The wasted hand that now I hold 
 Grows chill, and in those eyes that once were 
 briglit 
 
 With radiant life and passion I behold 
 
 A gathering mist that darkens into night. 
 
 Farewell ! We cannot cross the stormy tide 
 With thee; and though thy lot we fain would 
 share, 
 
 And follow to the chill, cold river side, 
 
 Thou dost escape and leave us standing here. 
 
 Farewell ! For thou art gone, and this cold clay 
 Lies dreamless dust, though hallowed by thy 
 name. 
 And back to mother earth we bear away 
 The ashes of that deathless spirit-flame. 
 119 
 
ATLANTIS. 
 
 ''Then we 
 Unfurled the silken sails, and from the shore, 
 Before the soft sea-breezes, sped amain." 
 
 — The Voyage. 
 
 Fare ithee well, lone isle of beauty, fanned by sum- 
 mer's softest breeze, 
 
 Foilded in the warm embraces of the love-encir- 
 cling seas, 
 
 Bathed in sunshine, draped in sOiadows, kissed 
 and fondled and caressed. 
 
 Smiling as you nestle there in velvet robes of 
 verdure dressed! 
 
 Every wimpling burn is laughing, every sparkling 
 
 brooklet sings; 
 And from all thy wooded valleys sweetest, clearest 
 
 music rings — 
 Aye, from e'en thy highest hill-top downward to 
 
 the surging sea — 
 Everywhere, the notes of gladness woven into 
 
 melody ! 
 
 120 
 
Atlantis 121 
 
 Fare thee well, and with thy gladness let not one 
 
 sad note appear ! 
 Though our hearts are filled with sadness — we 
 
 who fain would linger here, 
 From this happy isle must wander — ^softly breathe 
 
 thy song and low, 
 Lower still yet ever gladsome ! Seaward now the 
 
 breezes blow ! 
 
 Gently now our bark is tossing \Vhile upon the 
 
 deck I stand, 
 Gazing out along thy curving, shell-strewn marge 
 
 of silver sand ; 
 And I listen to the washing of the waves that ebb 
 
 and swell — 
 Ebbing, sweUing, laving, lasping o'er and o'er 
 
 again, "Farewell!" 
 
 Ruthless sails ! — 'that bear us onward as we back- 
 ward look and lean ; 
 
 While the blue expanse of ocean broad and 
 broader grows between 
 
 This irail bark and that fair island, as 'neath some 
 magician's spell. 
 
 Sweetly there it smiles w'hile every palmleaf waves 
 a fond farewell ! 
 
122 Atlantis 
 
 Fare thee well, lone isle of beauty ! And the odors 
 
 thickly sown 
 On the breeze that bears us homeward seem the 
 
 answer outward blown 
 L'rom that happy island that far in the distance 
 
 seems to be 
 A fair em'rald dimly sparkling on the bosom of 
 
 the sea! 
 
OLB-HOME EEST. 
 
 Like the low, contented buzzing 
 Of the bees around the comb, 
 
 Grew the laughter of the dozing, 
 Drowsy, sleepy boys at home. 
 
 Sweet that evening rest, when busy 
 
 Feet that pattered all the day 
 Ceased their running, and the dizzy 
 
 Heads drooped low and swooned away- 
 Swooned away in dreams all rosy. 
 
 As in bed, with fond caress, 
 Mother placed us warm and cozy 
 
 Praying God to guard and bless. 
 
 May the All-kind Mother hold us 
 In sweet dreams upon her breast. 
 
 And within our low couch fold us, 
 When we're tired and long for rest. 
 123 
 
TO THE AMBRAW. 
 
 Gentle river, glide forever 
 
 Onward to the sea, 
 With thy dancing wavelets glancing 
 
 Back their smiles at me! 
 
 Glancing, gleaming, dancing — dreaming 
 
 Now in sheltered pool, 
 There beguiling us and smiling 
 
 Up so clear and cool ! 
 
 Softly flowing, scarcely going. 
 
 All so still, it seems, — 
 Save some dashing minnow flashing 
 
 Forth those fitful gleams. 
 
 Dashing, darting, stopping, starting — 
 
 See him! there he glides, 
 With the streaming sunlight gleaming 
 
 From his silver sides! 
 124 
 
To the Ambrazv 125 
 
 Like some sleeping infant peeping 
 
 Up with dreaming eyes 
 Through its lashes, are those flashes 
 
 From the mirrored 'skies. 
 
 Now it, waking, thinks while breaking 
 
 Lig^htly into smiles, 
 "I^ through ferny banks, must journey 
 
 On so many miles !" 
 
 So it hurries on, yet worries 
 Not though stopped so long, 
 
 But in trebles o'er the pebbles 
 Breaks in happy song. 
 
 Wond'rous story of His glory. 
 
 When from Sinai's crown, 
 In the olden days the golden 
 
 Light of God shone down ! 
 
 But from glowing skies o'erflowing 
 
 Now His splendor pours 
 Deeply over all the river's 
 
 Reach of sycamores ! 
 
126 To the Ainbraw 
 
 How much sadness changed for gladness 
 
 Who could dare to say, 
 Could we capture all the rapture 
 
 Loose along Hhy way ? 
 
 Ah ! 'tis pleasure's fullest measure — 
 
 Here with cork-and-llne ! 
 See it bobbing like the throbbing 
 
 Of this heart of mine ! 
 
 Till to dullness, in joy's fullness, 
 
 All my senses steep — 
 Tired of fishing, now I'm wishing 
 
 I might fall asleep. 
 
 Here to linger while Time's finger, 
 
 Deaf to hopes and fears. 
 Slowly numbers all my slumber's 
 
 Changeless round of years. 
 
 Green, the cover folded over 
 
 Me so carefully ; 
 While the river glides forever 
 
 Onward to the sea. 
 
To the Ambraw 127 
 
 Curving, bending, winding, wending 
 
 Leisurely its way ; 
 Slyly hiding, gleaming, gliding 
 
 Onward night and day ! 
 
 From far meadows, pied with sihadows 
 
 Where the willows nod, 
 Glide forever, gentle river, 
 
 'Neath the smile of God! 
 
NEW YEAR'S EVE. 
 
 Father Time goes hobbling on 
 In his old accustomed way, 
 
 As for ages he has gone, 
 Never resting night or day. 
 
 On and on through weary miles 
 
 He's been tramping all these years, 
 
 Peddling out his stock of smiles 
 And a full supply of tears. 
 
 Mingled smiles and tears we find 
 
 Dealt to us along the way ; 
 See he turns and looks behind 
 
 At the mile-stone passed to-day. 
 
 One more year — 'tis finished; we 
 Cannot change it; let it rest; 
 
 What's the odds to you and me 
 If we each have done our best? 
 128 
 
New Teai^'^s Eve 129 
 
 So to-night we cast aside 
 
 Every vagrant sense of care; 
 Vain regrets can ne'er abide 
 
 In the heart when joy is there. 
 
 Vain regrets, the ghostly throng, 
 
 Suddenly are puft to flight. 
 While the airy hosts of song 
 
 Fill our hearts with joy to-night. 
 
 Ring, ye merry bells, your chimes; 
 
 Blow, ye sky-born bugles, blow ; 
 Not a sigh for happier times 
 
 These glad hearts of our 'shall know ! 
 
 Pause one moment; not so loud; 
 
 Mask your joy with deepest gloom 
 While the old year in 'his shroud 
 
 Slowly sinks into the tomb. 
 
 Now 'tis over, laugh and sing. 
 
 Brush away each feigned tear; 
 Blow, ye bugles; wild bells, ring; 
 
 Hail with joy the glad New Year! 
 
A LOVER'S HALF-HOUE. 
 
 No, a lover's half-hour has no definite length; 
 
 'Tisn't measured as men measure distance or 
 space — 
 With exactness that offers no room for a doubt — 
 
 But varies with circumstances, person, or place. 
 
 To the one who is waiting the lover's return 
 And grows not impatient nor rails at his friend, 
 
 All hail, patient hero, the palm thou hast won 
 Ere the lover's half-hour is brought to an end. 
 
 To the one who is gazing in soft tender eyes 
 And reads there a gladness no words can ex- 
 press. 
 
 It can be but a moment thoug^h long he has stayed 
 And grieves at departing — delightful distress. 
 
 To the fair blushing owner of those tender eyes 
 Whose heart beats the time to his vanishing 
 feet, 
 It is equally short, that delightful half-hour. 
 And she longs for the time when again they 
 may meet. 
 
 130 
 
A MORNING EAMBLE. 
 
 Blow, breeze from the sunny Southland, blow ! 
 These gentle slopes, arrayed in robes of brown 
 But brightening into smiles, again arise 
 To greet thee as thy steps, by blue-bird's song 
 First heralded, so eagerly draw near. 
 Aye, speed thee, for in simple beauty here 
 Thy mistress waits thy coming and tliose sweet 
 Endearments that alone thy soft arms know. 
 
 And like fond lovers p'arted long, tlhey close 
 In warm embrace. The first glad rapture lulls 
 To joyous flutterings, and sweet caress 
 To gentle dalliance, and soft words cease; 
 And 'hills and south wind in a trance of joy 
 Renew again their yearly pledge of love. 
 And over all the earth a gladness steals — 
 A mingling of sweet sounds and chattered mirth ; 
 The twitter of the swallows as they skim 
 Along the meadow, dipping earthward in 
 Their fliglht ; the plaintive coo of doves ; the bleat 
 Of lambs that cease their gamboHng to call, 
 Then listen till they hear the answering bleat 
 131 
 
132 A Moi-ning Ramble 
 
 Where o'er the ridge the mellow tinkk tells 
 Of quiet feeding on the fres^h-grown grass. 
 
 Between these hills that lie Hke giant kine 
 
 Serenely in the sun, the little stream 
 
 Glides merrily along and smiles at us 
 
 With many a merry twinkle as it darts 
 
 Into a covert of low rushes, dry 
 
 And sere, to once again emerge and gleam 
 
 Wilih hope that we may catch its playful mood 
 
 And follow for its gay companionsfhip. 
 
 So let us follow as it crooks and bends 
 
 In graceful curves among the hills ; give ear 
 
 To ali its babble, all its c'hildish mirt'h, 
 
 Its simple wisdom as it rus'he-s on 
 
 So merrily to meet eadh duty th'at 
 
 Lies just before it, lingering not to find 
 
 A more convenient season, thus to lie 
 
 All silently in shallow, stagnant pools. 
 
 Each tiny cataract pours crystal pure, 
 
 Like joy from hearts untainted 'by the spring's 
 
 Of selfishness. Each limpid pool runs o'er 
 
 With its low ripple "of delight; and wreathes . 
 
 Of smi'les spread o'er it as some songster dips 
 
 And drinks its coolness, pausing yet to bathe 
 
 With twitter, chirp, and constant fiutterings. 
 
A Morning Rainble 133 
 
 Then on we hasten and the little stream 
 Grows larger. Under budding hawthorns, we 
 Behold the yet unfinished handiwork 
 Of redbreast-builders. On and onward still, 
 Where osiers crowd the ooze, and then 
 Where larger willows lean with tender grace. 
 Where bristling locusts s'tand forbiddingly. 
 By kingly cottonwoods, swerving around 
 Some grove, still journeying toward the river, till 
 At last we wander throug^h the gloomy shades 
 Of these old forest trees that proudly stand, 
 Huge giants in their solemn majesty. 
 Through all t^hese woods what awful stillneiss 
 
 reigns, 
 Now rudely broken by rebellious caws — 
 A sudden splash and ripple, and away 
 The blue king-fis'her darts ; there in the sun 
 The wood-grouse idly drums with muffled beat 
 Upon the log; and Silence breathes o'er all 
 Her opiate breath until her subjects, steeped 
 In drowsiness, dare not dispute her sway. 
 O'h, that glad sense of sweet repose that steals 
 Into our hearts While nestling here upon 
 This veivet coudh ! No wage of war between 
 Contending passions, for the boldest imp 
 Of evil 'hastens tremblingly away 
 
134 ^ Moi'fihig J^amhle 
 
 Nor dares disturb God's peace divine within 
 His temple reared among t^hese holy hills! 
 Rise, incense, from the swinging censers lit 
 By heavenly fires; and, sacred flames, leap up 
 From altars all a'blaze with love's warm glow; 
 While all around us shines the beauty and 
 The glory that is but the siiiile of God ! 
 
 And now 'hushed voices wake and faintly call 
 
 And pour dieir pipings low and sweet upon 
 
 The Whispering wind — sudh gentle gaiety. 
 
 Such merriment as makes no discord with 
 
 Devotion. Laughing lightly as an elf 
 
 At play, a streamlet, dancing in the sun, 
 
 Now answers back the merry music of 
 
 A gurgling fount that gave the streamlet birth. 
 
 How sweet it is, like schoolboys once again. 
 
 To kneel where oft the timid fawn has scared 
 
 At its own image staring from the clear. 
 
 Cool depths While louder laug*hed the streamlet as 
 
 It ran. Through long, long years the crystal 
 
 wealth 
 Has poured, and danced and glimmered as it 
 
 poured. 
 From secret haunts, ail forms of woodland life 
 Have crept and slaked their thirst and tlien forgot 
 
A Morning Ramble 135 
 
 Their fear to frisk and gambol in the sun ; 
 
 While oft the swarthy savage, hideous 
 
 With paint, has quafTed, then mused a moment 
 
 here. 
 And for the time forgot his eager thirst 
 For war. But here are evidences of 
 More recent frequentings. The twang of bow. 
 The stealthy step no more is heard since sounds 
 Of axes woke the echoes 'mong these hills. 
 And looking close, we find decaying bits 
 Of ancient curbing, while the 'hilliside s'hows 
 A tiny valley, thickly sodded o'er, 
 Yet plainly marking the once beaten path 
 That hither led. Up that same pathway and 
 Beyond, we find a few slight rehcs of 
 A cabin that has crumbled into dust. 
 Reclining on the hillock where once stood 
 The huge old chimney, a deep 'haze falls 'round 
 Us; shapes and shadows flit on every side — 
 The joys and sorrows in confusion blent 
 Of hum'ble frontier life, till Fancy takes 
 The maze of tangled threads and< weaves to her 
 Own liking the frail texture of romance. 
 
AS BLOOM THE FLO WEES. 
 
 The flowerets by the wayside bloom 
 Unconscious of the Fa^tiher's care ; 
 
 And, leeward blown, their s^^eet perfume 
 Is wafted on the summer air. 
 
 Content to bloom where'er they may, 
 They make fhe hum'blest byways glad 
 
 Wit^h their own smiles, so bright and gay, 
 Till hearts grow lig^ht that once were sad. 
 
 In Whatso'er secluded place 
 
 Or ihumble nook may we abide, 
 Let's with glad hearts and smiling face 
 
 Strew joy about on every side. 
 136