Class _?S3i5-2J3. CoijyriglitK°_13LU_ COPYRIGHT DEPOSnV JEANNETTE F. LOVE THE FALL AND RISE OF CUSHAN AND OTHER POEMS By JEANNETTE F. LOVE 1% THC STONEMAN PRESS CO. COLUMBUS, OHIO -c z>r Z \ A ^\ COPYRIGHTED BY JEANNETTE F. LOVE 1911 ©C!,A202249 DEDICATED TO MY CHILDREN, HUSBAND AND ALL FRIENDS WHO ENCOURAGED ME THE FALL AND RISE OF CUSHAN AND OTHER POEMS DaybreaK Tis dark, but streaks of the fair morning's light, Rift the shadows that reigned o'er the realms of night. The sable-browed queen descends from her throne, With her glittering train, and now hastes to be gone. A rustle creeps through the oak and the fir ; A chirp sets the reeds and rushes astir. The glad day is breaking, the orient glows With a thousand rich tintings of amber and rose. The last truant star now fades on our sight ; The cricket, the piper, that cheered the lone night Creeps away to this nest ; the drowsy cuckoo Shakes from his pinions bright drops of dew ; Robin awakes with a song in his throat. The lark to his mate trills his musical notes. The herds awake and the lord of the fold Drowsily shakes his great coat of wool. Steals a murmur, a gurgle the woodland along, A twitter, a warble, a ripple of song ; The sun hastens up the ethereal way, And the fair morn dissolves in the bright beams of day. Bow 1 Cove to Dearketi How I love the quiet country, Its decorum suit me quite ; Its adornments and its language Fill and thrill me with delight. Come with me awhile and listen To the sighing of the pines ; Hear the zephyrs whispering vespers 'Mong the morningglory vines. How we love to sit and hearken To the trickling of the rill, Or to mark the measured tinklings Of the sheep-bells on the hill. Hear each feathery tribe and insect Sing its own quaint ancient tune, While the spring enamored lingers 'Mong the rosy bowers of June. Sweetly the distance chants the numbers Of the baser sounds, and still Sweeter flows the mellow cadence Of the harmonies that fill All the glad alcoves of nature With their trios and sextetts, And the listener gets a melody That he never quite forgets. mornittg Tis morning, yet the darkness holds Nature still in ebon folds; The day-god bursts the barred doors Of night and casts his tints before The clock's hands mark the hour of four. The wan moon like a modest nun Veils before the rising sun; The stars blow out their friendly lights, And Darkness, dusky-queen of night Hies before the morning's light. And Beauty dips her silver oars In waveless ethereal seas ; Morn's splendor gilds the orient. And peaceful fires from heaven sent Crown the day with sweet content. Quietly the cattle on the hillsides lie. Low tinkle the bells of the flocks hard by, The katydid chirps and crickets call And silence lends a music to all. Dim, rises the city in the vale below, Gently the river ripples in its flow ; Wavelets dance, and the moonbeams mold The dimpling waters into waves of gold. Wheatfields nod and the waving grain Billows and flows like a surging main ; The plover pipes, — his vesper rings And silence sweetens the song he sings. Tti m 6araeit Down in the shadows where the rivulet flows, And the air is perfumed with the breath of the rose, Where the jessemine trails its vines in the dew. And birds of many a song and hue Flit 'mong the branches all the day long. Enhancing the garden with beauty and song. There I build me an altar, while the glad summer glows. And the air is perfumed with the lily and rose. The groundmouse creeps by me and butterflies pass; I hear the soft tripping of squirrels in the grass ; The cricket's low chirrup, the honey-bee's hum, The grasshopper's fife and the black beetles drum; Here robin pipes gleefully all the day long. And the woodland resounds with the burthen of song. And the bee dips its wings in the nectar that flows From the cups of the jessemine, the lily and rose. Co lily 6araen Queen Thou sunkissed flower, Queen of my garden bower Though thou tower'st above the flowerets that nestle nearth thy shade, Still with a queenly grace Thou bow'st thy radiant face And smilst upon them till autumn claims thee and thou fad'st. To thee no harp is strung, Nor poet, ere hath sung ; The rustic virgin kisses thee and the city maiden fair Plucks thee from thy stem Half timidly, and then Half hides thee in her ample folds and binds thee in her hair. Thou sunkissed flower, Queen of my garden bower, It is to thee erstwhile my zithern is attuned Autumn is less sad The busy world more glad. And bird and cricket sing more joyously because thou'st lived and bloomed. Like thee, sweet flower. In this decisive hour My soul would turn away from all desire for praise, 9 And looking apace Into the Savior's face From the sun of righteousness would draw a radiance and grace. mia-ddv in July How dreamily, dreamily, the hour goes by- All nature seems to sleep. And o'er the portal of July Somnia seems to keep Her vigils ; not less bright the days Nor earth less verdant seems. But Drowsia, her septre sways And mesmerized nature dreams. How dreamily, dreamily drifts the hour — On noisless wings the butterfly Flits past, and from drooping flowers Sips their nectar silently. The weeping willow stoops to kiss The chattering brook that flows Beneath, and chants a lullaby To the calm noon-tide's repose. 10 to a hornet Whither, thou wandering constellation do'st thou stray ? Ah, whither, on thy solitary way Do'st thou wander ? Far from yon bright-orbed wilderness with silver wings wide spreading. Thou launch'dst upon the great unknown, its viewless track threading. Light-poised thro the great medeaval space Unknown 'twixt earth and heaven, we thy mean- derings trace, Erratic star. Yon firmament is gemmed and set, a beauteous citadel With glittering worlds resplendent, yet far, far away Errant and lonely. From its lofty suburbs of beauty, who can tell ? The why and how thou do'est solitary stray. The ancient world beheld thee with apprehensive dread A messenger thou seemdst to them whose hoary head Pestilential shook. Or war or famine or some pernicious plague ; Their doom which vague superstition conjured up, Upon thy fiery wings in burning words they read. 11 Beneficient heaven, to prepare them for the stroke Thus, giving warning. But science discovers, in these later days A wandering constellation bright with electric fires Flying through space. But where thou launch'dst or when or whither tending None knoweth, no not one — not e'en the learned and wise. Toward earth or sun descending or ascending, Thou art seen, that's all, 'tis here man's knowl- edge dies. REFLECTIONS Here is mystery, too deep for e'en the scientific mind There are summits, whose virgin heights must yet remain unclimbed. But when all is done, And our eyes are opened on the bright celestial shore And truth is all, and theory shall vaunt itself no more We'll find the paths of science whereon men took delight. Centered in eternity, and the Allwise — Infinite. 12 Cbe Sottd of tbe (Uind Hist ! Tis the voice of the wind outside, Sweeping hilltop and prairie far and wide. Now list, while he sings a lullaby song, A song of the North and his turbulent throng, Rocking the cradles in every tree top With fingertips icy and strong. Draw close to the fire, the evening is chill, Strange rappings are heard at casement and sill, 'Tis the rollicking wind, with boistrous tread Traversing the lawn, and overhead Clicking the shutters and tapping the panes Now striding the chimney and roof, — and again, Transcending decorum of robber or boor. He fumbles loudly the knob of the door ; Whispers, listens, then with rant and with roar Again rocks the cradles in every tree top. With fingertips icy and strong, And whistles and sings with icy lips. And rocks the cradles with icy tips. 13 Prologue to Cbe fall of Custoatt O Spirit, come and lift the pall ! And through the ages may I ken, What of kingdoms or of men. May serve in truth to enlighten all. O heavenly muse my song inspire! Sing to my heart the soft refrain Of heaven ; let the melodious strain Sweep through my soul, till all admire. Draw back, draw back, O Spirit fair ! The veil that screens the misty past. And let me through the ages vast See teeming millions moving there. Just as they moved in the olden time, Ere yet the chord of life was broke ; Ere the destroying angel smote The ancient nation, in its prime. O hearken while I plead once more — May nations catch the silver strain. And carol o'er the glad refrain, 'Till it shall ring from shore to shore. 14 tbe fall of Cttsbait I saw the tents of Cushan in affliction ; and the curtains of the land of Midian did tremble. — Hab. 111:7. Yet destroyed I the Amorite before them, whose height was like the height of the cedars, and he was strong as the oaks ; yet I destroyed his fruit from above, and his roots from be- neath. — Amos II, 9. An ancient tree once thrifty grown, Its regal form uplifted high. Painted its branches 'gainst the sky. It's greatness to the world was known. Deep rooted down, it felt no storm ; Its branches broad, defiance waved. And many a beating tempest braved The lightning-driven bolt ne'er harmed. It basked in sunshine, bathed in shower, The forest great, obeisance made And at its feet its trophies laid. And homage paid its kingly power. Its strength invincible had proved. And when the muttering thunders spoke And rushing torrents madly broke From lowering clouds, it stood unmoved. One tranquil eve when summer filled Her cup with beauty, — and the breeze Crept through the tops of towering trees, And flowerets nectared cups were spilled 15 upon the air, and zephyrs played 'Mongst restless leaves, and heaven smiled Upon the fruitful earth, — ^her child, In gorgeous robes of wealth arrayed. A woodman to the forest sped, And laid the giant monarch low In the vale, where violets blow And lowly plants sweet incense shed. Scattered and peeled its branches lay Withering in the scorching sun. Until from heaven, a pitying one Descending, bore a branch away. Far across the restless tide Neath skies cerulean long it flew, Nor paused to rest. The midnight dew Dampened the heavenly pinions wide That glistened in the morning's sun. Until the voyage thus begun Was ended, and the branch was set In soil where gentle showers would come And nourish it till sturdy grown, 'Twould tower like the ancient tree. This tree was ne'er a woody plant In shady woodland earthed and grown; A race, 'mongst other nations sown. Lofty, towering — ^noble, grand. 16 Twas Ethiop, the sable king Exulting in his royal pride, Who did the power of God deride, And count his love an unholy thing, When plenteous peace his domains crowned. And cloudless skies above him shone. And pleasure filled life's cup alone, His exultations knew no bounds. PART II. O know ye not, Tirhaka's crown, And Shishak's robe inwove with gold ? And Candace, royal queen of old, A line of Ethiop's renowned ? O know ye not, the eastern clime. The land where reigned those royal sires ? The land of shadows, where the fires Of science loomed in olden times? Where spicy bowers perfumed the breeze, And soncy queen regnant of yore. The cradle of first ancient lore. Sat proud Aegyptus of the seas. There once Sahara's gardens smiled, And fields of golden harvest waved, And gorgeous cities richly paved Stood, where now burning sands lay piled. 17 Where bones now strew the desert waste, Where now the sifting simoons sow The plains with sand, passed to and fro Surging throngs of every caste. To Labor's call, the myriads trode, A joyous train; nor dreamed of fear Nor reckoned once the time was near When the avenging hand of God Should sweep with beson, wild, the land, Which to such opulence had grown; The land to Isis bowing down. To Chronus stretching forth the hand. PART III. With all the ease he had attained He craved still greater ease, and sought A way to heaven with pleasure fraught, — Sensual pleasures, unrestrained. He set him to philosophize, A heavenly pass by stealth to gain Without exertion, care or pain. Into the realms beyond the skies. He reasoned thus : 'Tf God is just He'll save all creatures he has made," And through a long, dark esplanade Of thought he sped: *Tor why from dust 18 Demand a boon for sin, and why A toll, the heavenly pass to pay Across the gleaming milky way To realms, they say, beyond the skies ?'' The path he chose to darkness led, Blinded reason hung a dismal scroll, And ease, for which he'd risked his soul, Before him like a phantom fled. God's plan, with his own plans he crossed, A net for his own feet he spread, — A labyrinth for his soul to tread, Through ages dark, in mazes lost. Wisdom forsook her queenly courts, And reason from her empire fled; And retrogression ruled in dread The realms of thought, with dire consorts. Man unto man grew stren, and vast Suspicion, like a mighty flood, Torrentous swept twixt brotherhood ; His greatness fell before the blast. Degradation seized his state, Irreverence and hatred blent. Accomplished swift his sure descent, And desperation sealed his fate. The bitter cup, he mixed, he quaffed, And not content to drink alone. To generations handed down The bitter potion-poisoned draught. 19 And everything which greatness gave Dissolved when he forsook his God And on his great commandments trod And sware : ''There is no God to save/' War like a ghastly demon stood, On towering heights and battle waged, And tribe his neighbor engaged And brother bathed in brother's blood. PART IV. Thus Ethiop lost his primal rank Among the nations as a peer, And lo ! into the darkened sphere, Of heathenisms night he sank. From heights tenriffe he fell, — but slow. Not toppling headlong from the crest, But step bv step, descending fast The rugged steeps to vales below. A retrograde, — first from his troth He stepped down to adore the spheres, And score decades of irksome years Worshipped these alone, forsooth. Next, images of these he sought. His orisons and vespers rose. At morning's dawn and evening's close To these that his own hands had wrought. Idolatry with its mantle black Wrapt up the years, that calmly crept Apace, while dull tradition slept. Nor kept a record of their track. Their sullen lips scarce lisp the past, But faintly, now and then, and low, Like whisperings on the winds that blow, Come sighings of the ages past. Still, with heart dissatisfied . His spirit sought a kindred one ; Thus, hero-worship was begun And souls of men were defied. For though depraved, the human soul Still craves for something purer, higher, To which the spirit may aspire Than like things of terrestrial mold. Things sublunary can't atone, And vainly oft attempt to please, For earth hath ne'er a balm to ease The human heart: — but heaven alone. His sad fate bids us all beware Lest we should fall from high estate ; Lest pride would seal the scorner's fate And bring debasement and despair. "If angels fell why should not men Beware,'' lest haply they might fall ; This warning comes to one and all, Nations and kingdoms, great and small. 21 When least we think, while Peace reclines And joy exults 'neath Pleasure's dome, Is oft Destruction's hour to come; For in the still of noon repines, The flowers, while brightest shines the sun. And while the heavens refulgent smile, And restful hours to sleep beguile. The great destroyers work is done. And where now are the sons of Ham? The Cushite and Phoenician sons. The Menilikes, and Sabeans, The mighty hosts ! The mustering clans. Have they no voice to answer, ''Here?" Have they no records of their own? Yes, late discoveries have shown Lasting history writ on stone Dug from their ancient ruins there. Tho ages o'er their ruins broad Relentless centuries have rolled, Yet once again e'en as of old, They shall be gathered ; we are told Ethiop shall stretch her hands to God. 22 Sequel to tbe fall of €u$toatt Proud bird, no more on eagle's wings Thou soar'st with the flocks of heaven, But unto baser spheres thou'rt given To plod thy way with lowlier things. Proud Ethiop, kingdoms no more Court thy behests, but scorn thy fate; And since thou'rt fallen from high estate They even deny thou once were great. But thou wast great, we know thou wast The truth tho' hushed at will not down, Nor can a million voices drown The one true voice the scripture hast. Cbe Rise of c;u$bdit And the Lord shall smite Egypt; he shall smite and heal it; and they shall return to the Lord and he shall be entreated of them and shall heal them. — Isa. XLX, 22. From beyond the rivers of Ethiopia my sup- plaints even the daughter of my dispersed shall bring mine offering. — Zeph. Ill, 10. Princes shall come out of Egypt; Ethiopia shall soon stretch out her hands unto God. — Psa. LXVII, 31. Shall Ethiopia rise again. By the power of heaven 'twill rise, For the mouth of God has spoken And his word can never fail. Through times mighty telescope, See the nations as of old, Mustering in royal line; Not unto the battle-drum But to the gospel's silver chime. Ethiopia's sons returned From proud Columbia shall call The scattered tribes, — ''the nation peeled," — Tides of humanity shall flow. And multitudes dispersed shall come, Rushing like an open sea ; — A vast sea of humanity. Hoary headed sires shall come. And forms bent low with wintry age. On bended knee shall seek our God. And many a fane shall dot the plains And pilgrims kneel and fondly pray For Africa and Columbia. Our ships shall plow the ocean weaves Bearing merchandise to thee. Land of Columbia, and for thee A million hearts will fervently pray For blessings on Columbia. Return then, Afric's sons return. To the wide, wild wastes beyond the sea; Country and kindred wait for thee Return ye from captivity. 24 Why stand apart? Thine own why spurn? With folded arms your lifelong day Why sit ye idle still and say We care never to return. Ye're wedded by fraternal laws, God grant, Almighty Father rouse Slumbering souls. May they espouse Their country's and their kindred's cause. Ye daughters of Ethiopian blood Arise, your sisters' cause embrace; Lend your aid, that they may grace A nobler, truer sisterhood. With Bibles, prayers and hymnbooks go; With instruments of war like these God wins a thousand victories. His faithful want nor fear shall know. Ye sons, why stand with rusted blade? Broader fields by far expand Ungarnered; whitened harvests stand. Thrust in O thrust! Stand not aside. Ye learned who no vocation find From glutted ranks ye turn away And loiter all your lifelong day With noble purpose undefined. Arise ! 'tis heaven calls today, Can'st still disdain the piteous call? God forbid, while thousands fall, That careless souls should still delay. 25 What care we if our skins grow dark 'Neath torrid suns? So we fulfill Our mission, and our Maker's will We work out. Duty calls to work. The rivers roll o'er golden sands, And murmur softly there, as here. The mellow moonbeams just as fair Gild the plains of that far land. Heaven's tapers as brightly shine, As gloriously the ancient sun Rejoices in his daily run. As in the far off olden time. Return, ye loyal-hearted ones And Africa no more shall be The land of shadows, but the clime Sunny, of Ethiop's noble free Then tyranny shall find a grave. And peace and justice strike glad hands. And o'er the seas and o'er the lands, Their everlasting banners wave. Open your ranks, ye aliens, then, Make room for Ethiop's sons, behold Ethiopia we are foretold Beneath God's hand shall rise again. 26 SING ETHIOP Ethiop break forth in singing Rise ye heathen nations, rise, Morning cometh ; night's receding Gleams yon clear cerulean skies. Clap your hands ye wooded hilltops, Mountains shout the glad refrain. Heights shall sing and vales shall answer, Ethiopia shall rise again. Deserts shall rejoice and blossom. Jungles wave with golden grain. Laugh ye sparkling waves and murmur : Ethiopia shall rise again. Know Ve m UM O know ye the land of the olive and palm, Where the sweet-scented breezes wax faint with perfume? The land where the trees drop incense, the clime Where myrth and spice and frankincense bloom ? Where pruners forbear, where wood nymphs revel. And Sylvanus trains trellises rare ; There Pomona enthroned on fruit tree and flower. Sits queen of the realm, — the fairest of the fair. 27 The land where the vintage ripens and falls Ungarnered, to rot 'neath the tropical sun ; Where Ceres divides the fruit of the soil, With Fauna and Pan when harvest is done. And the rivers roll over golden sands, And glisten white on shingly shores. And the wide wastes trend from sun to sun Till they dip themselves in the briny seas. There greatness gleams in the pyramid still, And the. sphynx portrays the nation old That built it ; tho' ages o'er them have rolled And wanton centuries reveled at will. 'Tis the land of shadows, the eastern clime, Where the princes of Zoan flourished and fell. Where history lies buried 'neath Lybian sands. And traditions faint glim'rings, past truths only tell. Ye say, we are Hamites ; then give unto Ham A country, a home, on Africa's shore, His own inheritance ye cannot deny — O give him his own, he'll ask for no more. 28 Jf Soliloquy I have my hand on the pulse of time And his heart beats tremulously and .slow, But his intellect flits 'mong things sublime Tho' the wick is short and the lamp burns low. The seasons come, and the seasons go, With martial tramp and the world grows old. And men as gods pass to and fro, And intellect triumphs o'er realms untold. Space is spanned and the distances Rest on the disk of the telescope. Worlds are weighed in balances And wonders wrought with the gyroscope. I have my finger on the wrist of Time, And his heart beats faint and his pulse is low, But his mind is young and its flights sublime, As in the ages long ago. Yes, time grows old and his visage fades But his spirit still God-like and pure. Triumphs o'er the wrecks of age While rolling centuries endure. Kingdoms totter and empires fall, And the world reels on to the judgment day. New thrones arise, God over all, And wonders are wrought in this age of clay. 29 nature's Song There's a voice in nature, clear and sweet as the deep-toned bell, Gentle zephyrs, whispering breezes, their lyric members tell. The softened swirl of the murmuring stream, the cataract's thunderous roll, Each, sings a song divinely sweet into the listen- ing soul. The quiet place on the widening plain, the tangled solitude Breathe in a deep rich minor strain the major of the wood, And the music of their ripples on the heart voluptuous rolls And the bliss of hearkening gladdens all the chambers of the soul, And a sense of joy comes o'er us, and a song we cannot sing Fills our hearts and sets us lisping in the praises of our King. my Lm Have you seen my loved one, in her robes of the morning ? A necklace of pearls, her fair throat adorning — Her feet are jeweled with dews of the midnight. Her eyes beam with love and the mildness of starlight. 30 I hasten to greet her, and close in her arms She holds me enrapt while I drink in her charms. She taps at my window with roseate fingers And beckons me, once, twice, come nor linger. With her near my tasks are fit only for scorning. I know you have guessed her, my love is the Morning ; I adore her and had I the wings of a dove I would fly to the ends of the earth with my love. Jltttumit'$ Ddttgbters September, heiress of gen'rous Spring stands up First born of Autumn, laden with blushing fruit ; Green-robed, fair-haired, bright-eyed, with ruddy cheek, A virgin fair, as fair as Summer's daughter's sweet, And in circle with the merriest maidens of the year. She sings, timbrels and skips lightly to the cricket's dulcimer. Now rules October, Autumn's second born ; Hands filled with yellow pumpkins and grapes and golden corn. Skirts all embroidered with red and purple flowers. Her breath exhales the essence from summer's fragrant bowers. 31 Beneath the sun she reigns, her throne with beauty Ht; Under the stars she dances to the grey owl's hoarse ''to-whit." Then reigns November, with darker brow and cheek, Cold-hearted, sad, with eyes more fit to weep ; A robe of crimson hue sets off her pliant form. She rules nor seeks to please with beauty, grace nor charm. But a limit is set to her moods and to her tears. For she trips with the year to the music of the spheres. Cbe Secret $igb Oft I feel a secret sigh. Deep in my lone soul hidden, seeming, Half plaintiff, half content, a cry From troubled bosom half suppressed Wells up — from spirit half at rest. From spirit, only half at rest. Yearnings pure, and still, and deep, For joys beyond what we have known. Treasures, which the heavens keep. And souls who crave the precious boons Receive the blessings, one by one: The angels bring them, one by one. 32 Oft in tbe eiodinittg Oft, how often, in the gloaming, Under the stars or crescent moon, I have walked, and in my roaming Mid the silence, or late or soon, Felt some spirit hand's caressing Bringing to my soul a blessing Angel wings, about me pressing. My lone soul benignly blessing. Count it not an idle seeming. Nor fickle fancy, term it all. This is no happy, idle dreaming, 'Tis a companionship that falls. With a divine original. A blest companionship that falls With some divine original. PMlip He was a prince by birth. Inquisitive, youthful, brave, A boy of sixteen years. Inquisitiveness for him, Much sorrow brought and toil, Inveigled aboard a ship Bound for Virginia's shore, By heartless naves, who more loved gold Than worth of soul This royal prince was sold At Norfolk Town. 83 To kings' and nobles' sons More privileges are allowed Than to the common folk, And thus he wandered far In search of curious lore. Sold as a slave this prince Scorned first the sod on which he trod ; What else could he, With single arm nor friend This side Atlantic's wave. Oft did he walk alone, Beside the rolling sea, • It seemed akin to him. Its constant ebb and flow Beat an accompaniment To his restless soul. When some English he had learned, (Which howe'er in all his life. He never spake well). He after waiting long Approached Squire Ceil one day And thus addressed himself : I am an only son Of Fuma, Soudan's king. My father seeks me now. My country longs for me ; Please hasten my return. Truth sounds like truth alone, Though in a broken tongue. His owner stroked his beard 34 And some religious thoughts Flitted through his brain; But these were swept aside Quickly by thought of gain, Just as the Book is lain aside For game of chess. The Squire to him thus: Philip, have you not learned To love my house and kin? YouVe not been dealt with here Like the common sort. Then Philip to him said : Love's the lion his cell, Or the eagle the bars that fetter His flight? Nay tho' he learn To love the hands that caress Yet scorns he still his lot. Then Ceil to Philip said : ril think it over well And let you know apace. Days went by, and weeks and months. Meanwhile his father sought His son on England's shore And offered large rewards For his return. Two years dragged slowly by, Again he sought the Squire And once more pressed his cause. Thus he to Philip said : Your mistress likes you well, 35 And I and all our kin ; We cannot let you go. And Philip to him thus: And so loves she her squirrels, Caged but to amuse, And for a paltry sum Of golden coin would sell Both squirrel and love. And you your horse, good Squire, Because he's gentle sir ; Because he lightly wears His bridle and his girth And bears his burdens well. Emotion shook his frame And stretching forth his hands Toward his fatherland He broke the after-silence Thus, with splendid grief: I am a prisoner here, O land of my delight ! A captive slave, Only by the ocean's belt. That girts the earth t'wixt thee and me Am I kept. No arm of flesh could e'er avail To hold me here Itself would weakness be Wer't not for this. He smote hard on his breast And in a foreign tongue 86 Murmured a prayer. Squire Ceil grew pale with fear, Nor dared he longer stay, With grief so eloquent, At his hearstrings pulled remorse Hard and long, and greed Pulled equally as hard At the strings of his purse. Soon Philip found himself Hired to a man of wealth Near to Roanoke Town, Sold as he believed. The fact, as I am told Was soon made known to him By Gordon himself, A kind, considerate man, Who knew his history well. Philip liked not the change, He loved Atlantic's tides And the unpeopled beach That most reminded him Of his fatherland. He chose to be his groom. For horses loved he well. Gordon kept him in his house With his own family, And sought to make him feel Himself at home. Philip liked him well, 37 Still all the while adored His kingly kindred ties, And his native land. He learned to love the hills, And woods and rocks and things Native to them. Nineteen years he walked Alone, and lived and hoped. As sailors hope at sea, 'Gainst wind and tide To reach again the port From which they sailed. Once Gordon to him said: Philip, I've been your friend, I believe you will allow, Let me advise you now Out of our household here To take a wife. Here's Betty, our own cook, Jolly and well disposed; Of pastries there are none That can surpass her own, I'll wager her against Any baker in Roanoke Town. Here's Sally, my wife's maid. Both gentle and well behaved ; Of any you can choose. And Philip answered thus: Not of my tribe are they, 38 Naught to me can they be. Sir Gordon, as time goes on What and if my sire Should find me here anon, And bid you let me go, Whose would my household be? Again, as time goes on. And you and I have died. Whose should my children be? Truly, Philip's sir. Although I like you well. Love I my kindred more. One lovely summer's eve As by the Roanoke he stood, A rustle caught his ear And turning quick he saw An Indian maiden near. Her dark eyes met his own, A moment, steady, calm. Then as a fawn doth run. When frightened by a footfall She hastened toward the wood Even leaping o'er the broomsage That grew upon the ledge. 'Twas on an autumn eve, September, I am told. That he once more beheld The self-same maid. Nay, stay he quickly called, 39 I am a stranger here; For years I've walked these shores- No loved ones, friends, nor kin, To welcome me. I've heard this is your home May you not bid me stay ? With many other words He sought to lay her fears And prove himself a friend. True, sir, this was our home. Here on this charmed spot. In primal forests grand My fathers sought the deer. Or vied in pedestrianship With the roe-buck. 'Twas here by mother wrought, And crooned to her papoose. While hearkening for the footsteps, Of her returning spouse. But now the pale man comes And lays our forests low; Even now the ax is heard. Half of our tribe has gone. And soon we, too, must go. No more she shunned the prince And as the weeks slipped by Friendship ripened into love. Deserted by her own Because she loved the prince, 40 One day Philip led The coy Mohawk girl To Mayor Gordon's home, And over her raven locks, Sarah Gordon spread a veil Of snowy whiteness, And in the drawing room The marriage rites were read. 'Twas now the Christmas tide, And Gordon dowered them With acres ten to hold — A lifetime lease upon She, with a wheel and goods. Together they walked twelve years And wrought and loved and hoped. King Fuma still his son Sought, both far and wide. And after three decades Sought him in Norfolk Town, Then on to Roanoke came. But found the Soudan's prince Had died a captive slave Three years before. For many years she lived Still on the acres ten, With her family ; For all her tribe had gone. Wrought where she felt disposed For all the country 'round 41 Knew and admired her For her quiet, gentle mein. A tear falls as I write This story sad and true, Fancy the curtain lifts And in the distance dim An exile, dark and tall, In pensive thought I view Beside the rolling sea; With eyes backward cast Toward his native land. His children closely press To hear the story old And oftentimes rehearsed; His wife still closer clings, For she has felt the pangs Of an exile, though at home. I look again and see Two graves, forgotten now. On a hill near Roanoke Town. The story of their lives Even where they lived. Perished long ago With those who knew it best. But if it truthful be That soundwaves once began, Resound unceasingly Through distances unknown. Then somewhere still is sounding 42 Through unknown spaces vast, The voice of Philip's prayer And of the Indian girl's, Who loved and pitied him And cast her lot with his ; Twelve decades ago They lived as you and I, And loved and longed and hoped, Felt much of pride as we. And much of grief and wrong Of their children six, No need that I should write Save that they westward came, Some to Ohio came, Others to Kansas State. Thus from Prince Philip sprung A race of princely sons And freeborn daughters, too, Of proud Ethiopian blood And Indian well mixed. 4a Dttle Pearl UPayne (Written for his devoted sisters, Edith and Eva) Pearlie is sleeping with hands gently folded, Lips slightly apart, a curl on his brow, A smile on his beautiful visage moulded, — Was ever our darling fairer than now ? Speak gently, tread softly, our loved one is sleeping. In Death's cold embrace he slumbers now; O ! break not the silence with sighing nor weep- ing, O brush not the golden curl from his brow. A rose from the parent rose-tree is broken, The fairest and sweetest of five lovely flowers, O heaven ! give us a sign or a token That these remaining shall always be ours. Death came to our casement, he spoke through the lattice, Saying, I seek sweet blossoms and rare. Go, thou cruel gleaner, go reap the wild clovers But touch not my rose buds so passingly fair. He heeded not, nor tears, nor pleading. But ruthlessly snapped the tendrils away. And crushed the bud in his icy fingers Till leafless and lifeless the flowret lay. 44 But now he is resting, peacefully resting, No agony more, — the life-blood is chill ; No calling for mother to soothe with caressing. No fever, — the heart-throbs forever are still. 'Neath a little green mound, under branches of lilac They laid him — a single slab marks the spot. Though lowly the stone and simple the carving. The name. Pearl Wayne, will ne'er be forgot. The children playing at eve 'mong the winrows. Or searching at morn for the spring-flowers wild. Hie away with their childish tokens To the lowly grave of the little child. REFLECTIONS One dear one at rest in the bosom of Jesus, Six tossed on the sea of life's battles and strifes ; Steer wisely, O sailors, don't miss the blest harbor Where the beautiful enter the portal of life. No time to be idly drifting in pleasure; Life is today ; in the Maker's great plan Death is the night that precedes the glad mor- row — That day without shadows — eternal and grand. 46 Cbe Goiaen $bip Far away on seas of glory, Glides a vessel, built of gold; With silken sails runs my simple story- Three worthy mariners of old Steer the vessel, built of gold. Far away its sails uncover. Lightly glides the burnished prow. Like a silver winged plover. Laving breast of purest snow Where seas of heaven ebb and flow. £ine$ There's a song in my soul that I never could sing, A harp in my heart with a broken string; But I looked unto God — Lord help me, I cried — He heard me — the windows of heaven flew wide And the angel of song made haste to my side. DomeiicR O ! shall I ever be going Back to my childhood home, Back where the rose-trees are blowing. Where zephyrs oppressed with perfume 46 Flitted among the lilies And wafted their fragrance sweet Over pastureland green, and meadow At gladsome day's retreat? There Washington-bar and ivy Clambered the cottage wall, And the hum of the beehive at evening, And at morning the oriole's call. Made joyous the morning's dawning And restful the eve's decline — There fruit and clover blossoms The fragrant breezes refined. There robin his descant at evening Near the grove, from the mulberry tree. Would be singing, while I was hearkening And thought he sang only for me. His matins would wake me and often With shoes in hand I would go To catch a glimpse of the songster As singing he swayed to and fro. I long for the sweet-scented clover. The mead where the reapers tossed high The hay, and the narrow old pathway That lead to school through the rye. I long for the grand old orchard. The brook fringed with purple ling. The locust trees beneath whose roots Gurgled the mineral spring. 47 The scoffer may laugh till the hilltops Ring back the echo shrill, But ne'er can this blight the memory Of loved ones, or heart yearning's chill. Take from me the fickle fancy For pleasures that fade like flowers. But leave me the blissful remembrance Of childhood's happy hours. The family circle is broken ; Still oft in my dreams I roam Over the dear old plantation With father and mother at home. Still comes the fond remembrance. While slumbers soft embrace Binds me and charms my senses. The old pathways I trace. And like a broken reflection Dim through the lapse of years. Home and the family altar In the midnight hour appears. But ah ! in my waking I find it Only a dream, and the past Still like an ocean between us Silent, and deep, and vast. And ne'er can I hope in the gloaming With loved ones again to retrace The deer old walks, or at morning Meet their loving embrace. For years, long years, they have left me, 48 Yet their spirits oft near me seem Walking still close beside me In memory or midnight dream. But O ! shall I ever be going Back to that dear old home, Back where the rose-trees are blowing, Where zephrys oppre'st with perfume Wax faint o'er orchard and meadow — Back where the old rustic seat Invited to rest 'neath the poplar tree, Where at eve we were won't to meet. my Jfitdci ana T We stood on the hilltop, my soul and I, Looked down through the darkness and up at the sky, And the stars shed their fires and the world mur- mured low Its midnight devotions. I turned me to go. My angel beside me — I tried to produce A painting of midnight, but what was the use, The strength left my hand ere the etching was done, I knew I had failed ere the task was begun. I tried me again a song of the stars — My voice had no compass, my measure no bars, For what voice can hold with the voices of night, What alto so mellow, what treble so light. 49 No canvas of painter, nor story of pen Can touch it with tintings so rare, nor again Make it pulsate with life, like the midnight that fills Nature's vast temple, plains, valleys and hills. My angel snatched a pencil of light From under the inky folds of the night And portrayed the scene with angelic art On the yielding tables of my heart. She sang to my soul, how the sweet numbers flowed — Softer than e'en the zephyrs that blew ; She sang to me tenderly with voice born above And I heard in its ripples the strain of God's love. eooa-ntorrow ana Gooa'bye We have met and now we're parting. Who can say we'll meet again? Said goodmorrow on life's highway In a gladsome, joyous strain; Now farewell we soon must say. Shall we meet another day? Other voices call, we hasten. Other pathways must be trod, For the voice of many people Is oft the voice of Israel's God. So we journey as we pray, Jesus, lead us all the way. 50 Every pleasure has its season Every duty, every woe, Unseen hands of angels beckon. Though reluctantly we go. But our Father, — love divine, — Leads, and whispers still: 'Thou'rt mine." 3o$btta'$ Prayer Then spake Joshua to the Lord in the day when the Lord delivered up the Amorite before the children of Israel and he said in the sight of the children of Israel, sun stand thou still upon Gibeon and thou moon in the valley of Ajalon. — Josh. 10:12. And Joshua prayed : ''O God, behold Thy people Israel, but few Encompassed by a mighty host. But Thy great arm is strong to save And mighty to deliver us." With eyes upraised to heaven he prayed : Fight thou our battles, gain our cause, And get Thyself a mighty name. O Jehovah! Hear and let The sun stand still on Gibeon, Jehovah hear! and let the moon. Rest o'er the vale of Ajalon. And Joshua prayed, oh, wondrous prayer. The power that moves the Almighty God Upon his throne to wondrous deeds 51 Of love, to prove to creatures vile His love and might. The sun forgot to set, and lo ! O'er the fields of Gibeon It paused within its course and stood All gloriously, as if to look Upon the gory fields, Where strove the fierce, contending hosts Of Israel and Philistia. And o'er the vale of Ajalon Hung the wan moon. Dusky eve Tarried behind the eastern hills Till two days' lengths had passed away. Nor dared disclose her ebon skirts, Nor o'er the weary earth to throw Her shadowy mantle. Ebon shades The light forbade, nor dare they creep Across the threshold of the day. Canaan saw nor knew the cause. But ever and anon would cast An upward glance, till faintness seized At last their vital powers, and deep From every bosom rose A sigh. The arm of Israel Waxed stronger as the blazing orb Stood at meridian height, and earth Sat on its axis motionless. And had Philistia deigned to ask Ere yet the battle was begun 52 Wherewith do ye expect to win Your cause against our bannered host? What champion will ye choose to fight A combat with our mighty lord ? Though few their numbers be, and fierce The clashing armor of their foes Grate on their ears, and muffled drums Beat the battle march, although They see the advancing armies march, Thousands stronger than their own; Yet undismayed by taunts or jeers. Or muffled drum or clashing steel. The army as one man would rise. And with one prolonged shout acclaim, ''God and the sword of Israel Shall over your mighty hosts prevail !" The battle raged ; the two-fold day The night withstood, — until God's foes Were vanquished; till victorious songs Arose from God's triumphant hosts And Israel's banners proudly float Above the tents of Gilgal. Bow down, O soul! though sorely pressed, Your cause and Israel's are one with God; Embrace Jehovah, meet the test. And leave the sequence with the Lord. Pause before the jeering ranks, Lift your heart to God and lo ! Time will bide, while angels fight And vanquish e'en your mightiest foes. 63 tbe two $im The Past's a sea, a darkened abyss, Into which all transient things Through the present softly drifting. Sink at last, forgotten things. The Future, is a sea unfathomed, Flowing gently to the past; Through the present softly stealing Thither, bearing all at last. Man between these seas is steering O'er the present while life lasts. But with death, he drifts forgotten Back into the silent past. Cities, empires, kingdoms, nations, Buoyant once upon the wave Of the present, now forgotten Found within the past, a grave. Cbe King of Day The golden gates of the eastern heavens Open to usher the god of day. Darkness rolls before his chariot, Like a nether scroll away. Up the blue ethereal concave. Rolls his dazzling chariot golden. Gloriously this ancient monarch Rules his loyal subjects olden. 54 Birds are singing sweetest sonnets, Insects sporting in his beam ; Waters laughing, earth rejoicing. Rugged recks with splendor gleam. Height and depth alike rejoice, Wood and plain with pleasure ring; Nature has a million voices, All attuned before the King. CDe (Uanaeriitg nyntpD Who art thou and whence, thou wandering nymph. That from yon lofty hilltop send'st greeting ; Or on the transparent wings of the air thou rid'st by. Our very words repeating. Goddess of the air. Who art thou and where Is thy dwelling? Com'st thou from some far-off fairy garden In which poets would delight to wander? Or dwel'st thou in palaces or mysterious caves hard by. Or on the lonely mountain yonder ? Thou spirit mocking bird Repeating every word We would be telling. 55 " Mermaid of the deep, daughter of the air, Unsurmounted heights, unfathomed depths are thine ; Thy chariot the wind, thy couch the waters are. In every country in every clime Those lips of air Speak everywhere Deep silence breaking. Thou catch'st up the violin's strain and sing'st. The plaintive air, with all its sweetness telling By oft repeating how well thou lov'st the strain ; Borne on the light-winged zephyr from thy dwelling. Like heavenly music floats The deep melodious notes With sweetness swelling. Perchance thou art a spirit, which from the olden time Hast roamed the earth mysteriously And in thy salutations seek'st us to remind That all our converse of this life shall be Echoed over On the shore Of vast eternity? 56 On Cifc $ R($tle$$ Ocean On life's restless ocean when fierce gales are blowing, Or when the blue waters flow placid and clear, Bend to the oar, ne'er drift with the flowing Current, but constantly, vigorously, steer. Mark out an object ahead and endeavor To gain it, for if you cease to row The thing that is drifting before you forever Will keep the same distance ahead, you know. Set high your mark, then labor to reach it, Though torrents burst and wild billows roar. Hold firm your purpose, let nothing impeach it. Firmly and sternly bend to the oar. Employ all your talents if needs be to gain it. For naught's highly prized that's not dearly bought — Let this be your watchword and boldy main- tain it: First think out your work, then work out your thought. tbe €l)ji$e Robins singing in the woodland Rooks are cawing over the plain, Joyous sounds are all proclaiming. Gladsome springtime comes again. 57 Hark! Upon the frosty morning Rings the huntsman's bugle clear, Hist! the hounds are swiftly pursuing The fleet-footed, fallow deer. Ow-hoo, ow-hoo, ow-hoo, ow-hoo, hoo, hoo-ow, Ow-hoo, ow-hoo, ow-hoo, ow-hoo, hoo, hoo-ow. Swiftly the pack comes 'round the mountain Far across the purple stretch, Swifter flies the frightened fallow Keeping far beyond their reach. Ye may have the joy of chasing And the hunter's jolly cheer. But ril foil you — you shall never Catch my beautiful fallow deer. Ow-hoo, ow-hoo, ow-hoo, ow-hoo, hoo, hoo-ow, Ow-hoo, ow-hoo, ow-hoo, ow-hoo, hoo, hoo-ow. The river lies before our fallow — Behind him come the baying hounds. He's making for the crystal current — He plunges, with a fearful bound. Fright lends grace to every motion, Mark his steady, patient tread, Mark him by the whitened pathway And the graceful, well-poised head. Ow-hoo, ow-hoo, ow-hoo, ow-hoo, hoo, hoo-ow, Ow-hoo, ow-hoo, ow-hoo, ow-hoo, hoo, hoo-ow. Now the handsome pack of twenty Near the troubled water's edge, Loosing trail seek hither, thither, 58 Out upon the rocky ledge. Baffled are the hounds, behind them Swift the merry hunters ride But as they near the passive river Our fallow climbs the farther side. Ow-hoo, ow-hoo, ow-hoo, ow-hoo, hoo, hoo-ow, Ow-hoo, ow-hoo, ow-hoo, ow-hoo, hoo, hoo-ow. CDe Risiitd Storm The cloudy giant strides the upper deep, And trumpets his mandates in accents strong; The lightning encircled earth, trembles 'neath his feet, And leaps from crag to crag the thunderbolt along. THUNDER — THE COMMAND Now up ye coursers, too long ye have slept, The sun reigns long, the earth must be wet ; To our heart's content we'll gambol today. Then up ye coursers and let us away. THE RAINFALL Hist to the hurtling thunder's roar ! Hark to the wind that sweeps the plain, Did ever the rain fall so before ? Hist to the rain ! Ah, hist to the rain. 59 Hark to the music of the storm-steeds feet, And the storm-king's stepping from peak to peak. The heavens bend low, 'neath his mighty sway, And the earth is bathed and refreshed today. Listen to the hurthng thunder's roar, Hearken to the wind that sweeps the plain, Did ever the rain fall so before? Listen to the rain ! Ah, listen to the rain. time Steals Hmy So noislessly over life's crystal tide. So steadily ownward our vessels glide, So softly murmur the ripples at play From rosy dawn till twilight grey That entranced we forget, time steals away. Childlike, we list for the siren's song, And pleasure's invitations, strong, From duty's call we thoughtless stray, We dote on ease, — the light of day So softly, softly glides away. Yon tocsin strikes a warning chime, The seasons mark the march of time; Change, rings its gammut by the way, Yesterday's things are naught today, These should remind, that time steals away. 60 Thus silently the years roll on, Change, only tells us that they're gone. The vigor and beauty of youth decay, Age sprinkles the raven locks with gray — These remind, that time steals away. Oft, ere we awake from our lifelong dream, Lights from shores eternal gleam. The billows still bear us on and we Baffled behold our destiny As we strike the shore of eternity. Who would take from the crystal sea Jewels bright for eternity. Must 'rouse to labor and to pray. Arouse! ere falls the twilight gray. Know we the hours pass swiftly away. Scorn not d Stranger O scorn not a stranger, though tattered his gown Lest haply on your betters you'd frown. What matters apparel? Gay flowers adorn Most rugged branches all prickly with thorns, While mid the drear wreckage that winter has made. The violet and lily in beauty arrayed Bloom 'neath the stars, low in the glade. Far adown 'neath the ocean's billowy crest. Far adown mid the calms of the ocean's deep breast, 61 In hidden depths score fathoms below The pearl and wealth of the ocean glow. And beneath the torn frock, deep in the breast, A great heart may pulsate — a true soul may rest. tU Pilgrim's Song I am so glad ! My heart's full of song For Jesus my Savior all the day long Walks close beside me, my journey to cheer — 1 feel no disturbance while Jesus is near. My yokefellow He, the most burden to bear. And light are my feet and rich is my fare. His companionship lasts to the end of the road And comforts me, strengthens me and lightens my load. There is a happy woodland far away Where lark and linnets sing all the day. Where creatures roam at will O'er valley, plain and hill And gambol unmolested night and day. No baying hounds pursue the panting deer. Nor huntsman's bugle call is heard with fear- The fearless chamois sups From mossy mountain cups Dripping waters from crystal fountains clear. 62 There shores untrammeled by the foot of man Spread out 'neath June-like skies their snowy sands, There Hmped waters lave The pebbly shores and bathe — Fair islands near the happy gleaming strand. g;-{ INDEX PAGE Daybreak 5 Morning 6 Midnight Solitude 6 In the Garden 7 How We Love to Hearken 8 To My Garden Queen 9 Mid-day in July 10 To a Comet 11 The Song of the Wind 13 Prologue to the Fall of Cushan 14 The Fall of Cushan 15 Sequel to the Fall of Cushan 23 The Rise of Cushan 23 Oh, Know Ye the Land 27 A Soliloquy 29 Nature's Song 30 My Love 30 Autumn's Daughters 31 The Secret Sigh 32 Oft in the Gloaming 33 Philip 33 Little Pearl Wayne 44 The Golden Ship 46 Lines 46 Homesick 46 My Angel and I 49 Good-Morrow and Good-bye 50 Joshua's Prayer 51 The Two Seas 54 The King of Day 54 The Wandering Nymph 54 On Life's Restless Ocean 57 The Chase 57 The Rising Storm 59 Time Steals Away 60 Scorn Not a Stranger 61 The Pilgrim's Song 62 The Happy Woodland 62 JUL 3 1911 One copy del. to Cat. Div.