^**^^4,-.- iRDEALS. LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. Cliap......„ Copyright No. Shelf.„jL__(2_;3^ UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. (\ r,rO^ ^^'^' 2/ou>'8 Wru/i/, f. JS. eoffln. ^Jma^^ssi. .- COFFIN'S POEMS with Ajax' Ordeals by <^ p. B. Coffin LITTLE ROCK, ARKANSAS: The Colored Advocate, Printers and Binders. 1897. VN9 Wjm W«E1Y» PS 1^^, ■ Copyright 1897 by F. B. Coffin. Dedicated FIRST. To the memory Of that angelic woman, Who daimed me as her son ; Of that majestic woman, Whose race on earth was run — Long before I was old enough, To reason right from wrong; Lone: before I listened to Redemption's saving song. Of that Christ loving woman, Who's now at Jesus' home, Who sits and talks with angels. And with archangels roam. SECOND. To the conscience of the nation, With the hopes that it may rise To the point of elevation That will open up its eyes, And lend to us a list'ning ear. For the pitiful tale of woe, That Ajax* cannot sleep at night For lynchers are aglow. They burn poor Ajax at the stake, They hang him to a tree ; They chop him up like sausage meat, From home they make him flee. *The latter part of this volume will explain who Ajax is. Preface. Brief is our life here, precious is tiie time, and great the work to do, and a few thoughts in print has the possibility of a longer life than a man. " The night conieth when no man can work." How sweet, if it might be, that when the day is ended, we may have left some watch words still ringing in the ears of those who come after us. And I may be permitted to hope that these meditations may have such power, in their modest way. They will be easily passed by but may have a message for hearts that will look and listen. There is, certainly in this age, a want of writinorthat shall rest and brace the mind. It is well to extend natural and spontaneous thoughts, especially that which the heart has laid by in store. We must be militant here on earth, militant against every form of error. If, during the period of American Slavery, any Anglo-Saxon raised his voice or moved his pen in the interest of the stolen and op- pressed African, that man was marked, reviled and ostracised as if he was affected with the leprosy. No historian could write a true re- cord of the sons of Ham in the hope of finding a market for his book. The press, the pulpit, the writer and publisher were all against the Negro and suppressed the fact of his ancient greatness. Inthosedays the white man wrote for the white man, and now the black man must write for the black man, and give them proper and merited rank among the historic people of earth. It requires quite an amount of courage for a colored man to write, standinor with his heels rubbing asrainst the hardships and degradations of slavery while his toes are leading off into ostracism, prejudice, mob violence and the blood-chilling horrors of southern lynching. But we must build up breastworks for the cominsf orenerations. To do that we must swell the list of Coopers, Har- pers, Wells-Barretts, Simmons, Majors and other Negro authors. A few poems now offered differ from other works of natural sentiment, inismuch as it is not a compilation but a collection original. These maybe but little worthy of appreciation, yet have that value which the simple philosophy recognizes: " A poor thing, sir, but inine oivn.'' F. B. Coffin. Preamble. PAST. "Were Africa and the Africans to sink to- morrow, how much poorer would the world be? A little less gold, ivory, and coffee, a consid- erable ripple, perhaps, where the Atlantic and Indian Oceans would come together — that is all; not a poem, not an invention, not a piece of art would be missed from the world." Henry Ward Beecher. PRESENT. "What have you produced, what consum- ed? What is your real value in the world's economy? What do you give to the world over and above what you have cost? What are you worth? In thefinal reckoning do you beh)ng on the debit or the credit side of the account? Show up your cash account and balance sheet, and what's the result? It is by this standard that society estimates individuals ; and by this standard finally and inevitably the world will measure and judge nations and races." Anna Julia Cooper. FUTURE. In this age ideal frivolity supersedes stern reality. In most of our large cities in the South — outside of the college societies — there are no permanent, genuine literary organiza- tions among our so called intelligent people for elevaticm. They meet socially with no definite purpose to social elevation. They meet religiously with their souls on fashion and God as secon- dary. They never meet intellectually. These talents grow up in thorns and thistles. Noth- ing to inspire our youths to merit. Position, irrespective to character or ability, reigns su- preme. Thousands of youths grow up under this poisonous atmosphere in the large cities. But it is encouraging to see that, from the smaller towns, the college walls(our safe- guards) are filled with youths preparing them- selves to meet the demands of future times. What is the worth of fashion, style, and social ethics if it does not add to the world better, nobler, truer, sounder, more reliable men from its factory ? Time will not attempt to test their logic but will, eventually, weigh the results. Author. At My Mother's Orave^ I never see the burial place, Where my dear mother lies ; But that I think I see her face, Peak at me through the skies. I stand around her sacred mound. And think she knows I'm there; I kneel upon the sacred ground And lisp her evening prayer. Her fav'rite hymn I then repeat. With accents all her own ; We seem to meet at Jesus' feet. And linger near His throne. She sleeps within her narrow cot, Safe "tucked in" from the night; Resigned, I leave the solemn spot, "God doeth all things ri^ht." 10 MEMORY OF MOTHER. Memory of Mother. The last time mother walked with me, October skies were bUie ; The gnipe-vine on the cherry tree, Had found its autumn hue. Her low combed hair was just the shade Of ripened hazel burs; The cheeks of yellow astrackans. Were not more ripe than hers. It seemed the mushrooms showed their caps, To win her eyes of black ; And for one look into their depths. The orchard boughs bent back. A stalwart of the days gone by, That soon the days should chill ; Dear ma, somewhere those eyes must wear A gleam of summer still. Our Country. This star spangled banner country, Ts styled as the "Land of Free;" And yet our race here suffers wrong. Mixed with great humility. OUR COUNTRY. 11 We try to live by both the laws, Of righteous God and man ; And on all public questions, For right we try to stand. And yet to suit the appetites, Of other wicked men ; Our race is lynched, our race is mobbed, O! what a wretched sin. Can men of church and men of state, Who detest human strife. Carry a Christian conscience clear. And still take human life? That awful day is sure to come, "The appointed hour make haste," When they must stand before their God, And pass that solenm test. We know not if the dark or bright, Is going to be our lot ; If that wherein our hopes delight. Be best, indeed, or not. It may be ours in future years, To live with all in peace; If those who now despise our race. Let hostile outrage cease. 12 OUR COUNTRY. What an hour it must have been For a woman's tender heart, When the pityless, rough lynchers, Tore she'nd her husband apart. And while the mother clasped her hands And the children wept and prayed; The whole family made struggles, And shrieked to heaven for aid. The atrocities of Ru^ssia Against the thriving Jew, And the horrors of Liberia, Would disappear from view. Mob violence against China, And all the heathen lands ; Is far surpassed by lynch law. In this, our Southern land. If we ask ourselves the question *' Why do they lynch the Negro?" Our hearts respond full sadly, ''They, nor we, do not know." We've asked the wise in every age, And searched the universe around ; But neither scientist nor sage, An answer to the quest has found. OUR COUNTRY. 13 Is it God's will, what seer can tell? (Thus do our anxious thoughts revolve) Or is there not some oracle, That can or will the problem solve? Are we but phantoms, with no cause, But chance from cradle to the grave ; Or those inexorable laws Of which agnostics boast and rave? Or are we orphans with no home. With none whom we can father call ; As outcasts here a while to roam. And then pass off with " death ends all?" No ! let us not discouraged be But hope and ever pray That wrong and inhumanity, May cease to be some day. While the storms of life are raging Lynching wild in our land, Can we find a better refuge Than the shadow of God's hand? But what shall cleanse our country From all this painful guilt, The blood of freemen shed by freemen, Upon her bosom spilt? 14 OUR COUNTRY. When the pilgrim fathers came From far across the sea ; Their purposes were nobler than The lynching of the free. When Washinofton at Vallev Forge Endured the winter's pain, And when he crossed the Deleware 'Tvvas all for freedom's name. He knew not that a cent'ry hence, The tiag for which he fought ; Would be disgraced by lynching men, By taking life for naught. When Lincoln gave that mighty stroke, When Sherman reached the sea, When Grant took Appomatax, Their cry was liberty. When John Brown laid his body down And his soul went marching (»n. He knew not that his cause would be Disgraced by this great wrong. Could these great men speak back today From their resting domain; They'd whisper all in one accord, *'Our blood was spilt in vain." OUR COUNTRY. 17 Dear native land, a newer page Must turn as time moves by ; Shall that page be brighter, Or shall thy greatness die? Thou hast a noble government, And 'tis with trembling heart, That we see what thou appearftst And look on what thou art. We've wept till we could not weep, And the pain of our burning eyes Has gone into our aching hearts. And now the nation cries. Earth uplifts a general cry. For all this guilt and wrong; And heaven's ears are listening To the suff'rers' wailino^ sonor. Who'll interpret this mystery? Even the common dust Under the feet of the guilty Cries out "this crime's unjust." But we shall see the day, When riofht shall surely reign ; W^hen at the bar of conscience, The guilty shall be slain. 18 OUli COUNTRY. It may be when Ida Wells' lessons have been learned The lynchers sun forever more has set, The things which our weak judgment here have spurned, The thino^s o'er which we've tj^rieved withlash- es wet, Will flash before them out of life's dark night As stars shine most in deeper tints of blue. And they shall see how all her plans were right And how what seemed reproof was love most true; And when those nations far across the sea Begin to point o'er here the finger of shame, And show our state the depth of all these crimes, I think she will take steps to stop the same. You know that prudent parents disallow Too much of sweet to craving babyhood ; So God, perhaps, is holding from us now Life's sweetestthings because it seemethgood, And they shall shortly know that lengthened breath Is not the sweetest o^ift Godsends His friends, ONLY. 1» And that sometimes the sable pall of death Conceals the fairest boon His love can send. And if through all this strife we live to stand Where our minds from lynching news may rest, Then we shall clearly know and understand ; 1 think that all will say "God knew the best," Only. Only Afric's jungles Satisfied his mind, While the happy Negro On his couch reclined. Only a human trading ship Coasting along the shore. The Negro knew not whither Still he had to go. Only a "Star Spangled banner,' The Negro saw it wave, But he saw not "land of free" Neither "home of brave." Only slavery's hardships The Negro bore for years, On through the wilderness With headaches and tears. 20 ONLY. Only John Brown's body Is moulding in the clc\v, Yet his soul is niarchino^. Showing us the way. Only Bull Run's battle, Up sprang General Grant, Four long years of bloodshed, Freedom was the chant. Only Abraham Lincoln Gave the mighty stroke, And four million Negroes Lost the slavish yoke. Only an education, That is what he wants. And to be a citizen But they say he can't. Only abiding by the law Of our God and man. And on all public questions For the right, he tries to stand. Only to suit the appetites Of other wicked men. Our race is mobb'd and lynch'd Isn't that a sin? MOTHER'S SONGS, 21 Only proud America Detests human strife, Still has not courage to Protect human life. Only that coming day, 'Pointed hour make haste, She must stand 'fore her God, Past that solemn test. Mother's Songs, The summer's sun was beaming hot. The boys had played all day; And now beside a rippling stream. Upon the grass they lay. Tired of games and idle jest. As swept the hours along, They called on one who mused at times, *'Come pard, give us a song," "I fear I cannot please," he said, "The only songs I know Are those my mother used to .sing To me lono: years ago." 22 MOTHER'S SONGS. **Sing oneof those," arough voice said, ''There's none but true men here; Toev'ry mother's son of us A mother's song is dear." Then sweetly rose the singer's voice, Amid unwonted cahii: "Am I a soldier of the cross A follower of the lamb." "And shall I fear to own his cause" Every heart seemed stilled, And hearts that never throbbed with fear, With tender thoughts were tilled. As the singer closed he said, " Boys, we must face the foes" Then thanking them for their invite Upon his feet he rose. " Sing us one more the young men said, The sinorer hunor his head, Then glancing 'round with smiling lips, "You'll join with me," he said. We'll sing that old familiar air. Sweet as the bugle call ; "All hail the power of Jesus name, Lfet Angels prostrate fall." MOTHER'S SONGS. 23 And wondrous was the old tune's spell, As on the singer sang ; Man after man fell into line, And loud their voices rang. One cried out *'my mother sings 'Just as I am though tossed about;' " And the crowd picked up the anthem — "With many a conflict, many a doubt." The next said *'I seem to hear, 'It's rock of ages cleft for me,' " And the boys joined in with feeling "Let me hide myself in thee." Another said "I'm an outcast, But when I've nowhere to roam, I think of mother and the city Which, long since she's made her home." The next one said with tearful eyes "My mother's in eternity. Her song was 'O rock of ages In thy cleft hide thou me.' " Hush'd are her lips, the song's ended. The singer sleeps at last ; While I sit here in deep wonder. And think of days, long past. 24 MOTHER'S SONGS. The room still echoes with music. As singing soft and low, Those grand sw^eet Christian carols, They rock her too and fro. Safe hidden in the '*Rock of Ages" She bade farewell to fear; Sure that her Lord'd always lead her '' She read her title clear." Dear Saint in mansions long folded. Safe in God's fostering love, She joins in the blissful chorus. Of those bright choirs above. There she knows not pain, nor sorrow. Safe beyond Jordan's roll She lives with her blessed Jesus The lover of her soul. These boys are men, the stream still runs, Those songs, they still are heard; And oh! the depth of every soul. By those old hymns is stirred. And up from many a bearded lip. In whispers soft and low ; Rises the songs the mother taught The boy long years ago. SPOTLESS. 25 Spotless. (James 1:21) Spotless, spotless, spotless, spotless, At the sounding of that word, All my soul turned up to heaven, All my heart within me stirred. Would that I could stand out spotless, Lord, I know that Thou hast died, Thou hast stood for ages spotless Bidding men come and abide. Lord, build up for me a ladder, Reaching into perfect day. That my hopes this word may grapple, Showing me the right of way. Blooming flowers all seem spotless. On the spotless hill and dell. Oh, how beautiful they all are. And how fragrant too they smell. The spotless birds, they spring along, And chirp the song of jubilee ; I like to hear their spotless songs. They make my melancholy flee. S6 SPOTLESS. I wish that I could so be found, While traveling life's brief way, A spotless light to every one, Where'er my footsteps stray. Once a woman tried to show me Something spotless, bright and new, And she pick'd for illustration Objects of the dirtiest hue. ** Lady" said I, eager, anxious, "Why do vou choose thinsfs so vile?" *'Just to show the cleansing process," Said the lady with a smile. Then she said "these dirty colors. Hardest to remove of all. Can be made by constant rubbing White as snowflake in its fall." These words struck my heart with power, Made my soul within me throb, ** Dirty colors'* — -** white as snowflake" Can this woman? Cannot God? Lord, I long to be made spotless. What lack I to make me thine ? Not in name but spotless truly, Would I have thy ways, not mine. SPOTLESS. 27 Is there anything not spotless That I cherish more than Thee, Loved ones, money, fame or talent? Lord reveal them now to me. Lord I think how Thou, though spotless, Left thy Heavenly home on high, Gave up all Thy spotless glory. Came to earth for us, to die. Jesus spoke from out His mansion : **Thou, as I, can spotless be. Vilest hearts have been made precious, Simply trust and follow me." Then I cried, " O Jesus take me, Give me spotless, crimson wings, Stamp my name upon thy roll book, Take it to the spotless King." * * * * Oh, what spotless, rapturous music ! Heaven's gates seemed open wide, And I stood there clear and spotless. Near the Saviour's spotless side. Spotless in God's spotless mansions I Spotless in His spotless light ! God's own love, majestic, spotless, Made me crimson, spotless white! S8 MOTHERLY EMOTION 8. Motherly Emotions. A mother* came passing by m}^ door, Her son was near by my side ; *' Howdy mama" was her son's adore, " How^dy my son" she replied. And as I gazed upon that mother, The tears rushed to my eyes ; My heart's affections began to swell. My mind went to paradise. While there it found that one model, Who, sixteen long years ago, By the blessed Saviour's command, Left all earth's sorrows below. *' What word is sweeter than mother. What place is dearer than home?" These words are our associates Wherever in life we roam. Napoleon was a worldly man. Yet one o^reat thino^ he uttered, When from conscience clear he said, " What France most needs is mothers." MOTHERLY EMOTIONS. 29 Home, that sanctuary of love, That stamps impressions for life, Who's the heart of affection there? It is the mother, the wife. A mother's love! oh, no one knows How much of life's feelinofs lies. In those sweet words, the fears, the hopes, And dailv strens^theninof ties. It wakes ere yet the infant dreams It's earliest vital breath; And fails but when the mother's heart Chills in the grasp of death. Who knows the worth of mother? Not those who see her daily ; But those who watch that vacant chair Whose days are dark and dreary. But when I am tossed and driven, And feel like I'm all alone; I think of mother and that city. Which long since she's made her home. Mother, while playing at thy knees. Within my youthful heart ; There dwelt no secret consciousness. That thou would e'er depart. 30 MOTHERLY EMOTIONS. Since thou hast gone I now have learned To bow my stubborn will, The power that calms the raging sea My rebel heart has stilled. So I can look with fearless ejes On all these earthly fates, But how coulds't thou afford to die And leave me desolate ? I should not weep for thee, dear one, While with the saints thou art. But how can I in coldness check The burning tears that start? My thoughts to thee must ever turn As in my infant days, While in my heart thine image shall Lead me through life's rough ways. Rest, dearest one, may angel host Their vigils o'er thee keep. How can I breath thy saintly name And yet forbear to weep? I stand heartbroken on dull earth And gaze on the vacant skies. Mother I cannot see thy face. Dost thou hear thy son's crj? CONSOLATION. 31 If in God's likeness 1 may awake And shine in pure image by thee, I'll be satisfied when I can break The fetters of flesh and be free. Mrs. L. E. S. Consolation. Friends can't you tell me something? I am weary and worn tonight. The day has gone like a shadow And only the evening is light. Tell me about the Master, Of the burdensome hills he trod. When the tears and blood from his an- guish Dropped down on Judea's sod. Tell me about the Master, Of the wrongs he freely forgave. Of His love and His tender compassion, Of His love that is mighty to save. For my heart is restless and weary Of the woes and temptations of life. Of all the treacherous conflicts Of falsehood, and malice, and strife. S'i LIFE WHAT WE MAKE IT. So tell me the sweet old story That falls on each wound like a balm, And mj heart now bruised and broken, Shall grow patient, strong, and calm. Life What We Make It. My life is a wearisome journey ; I'm sick with the times and the heat. The rays of the sun beat upon me ; Life's briars are wounding my feet. There are so many hills leading upwards It keeps me a longing for rest. But he who appoints me my journey. Knows just what is needful and best. He loves me too well to forsake me. Or give me one trial too much, And the toils of my road will seem noth- ing When e'er I receive his kind touch. When the last feeble step has been taken And the gates of the city appear. The beautiful songs of the angels Will float out on listening ears. FRANCES E. HARPER. 33 Though now I am foot-sore and weary, I'll rest when I'm safely at home, I know I'll receive a glad welcome For the Saviour Himself has said : ' ' come. ' ' So when I am weary in body And sinking in spirit, I say, All the toils of the road will seem noth- ing When I get to the end of the way. Then I'll try to press hopefully on- ward. Thinking often through each weary day, The toils of the road will seem nothing When I get to the end of my way. Frances E. Harper. Tribute. Dear friend, to me one vision craved, Alas ! has been denied ; But thy strong words on page of book My mind anew inspires. Thy noble soul has lifted mine, As rippling waves are drawn ; My spirit heard thy words sublime, About the woman's dawn. 3 34 FRANCES E. HARPER. Some mysteries of Afric's race, Were left for thee to prove; Thy hicid voice, thy pen of grace, Filled up with hope and love — Woke the dead pulse of joy supreme, In our discouraged hearts. Dispells the long delusive dream. Makes new ambitions start. The rebels who pronounce us brutes. With conscience all at rest; Feel the great throb of Afric's truth, That stirs from out thy breast ; Maid of a higher, nobler cause. Thou queen of ancient night; Defender of the virtuous laws Of our young woman's rights. Thy name has spread like night's domain, When all her glittering lamps Illume the vast and level plains Into the peaceful camps — Where martyrs keep the righteous post Doubting our freedom yet. And speed the faithful, onward host, With eves on justice set. FRANCES E. HARPER. 35 They are not dead, those who have died, Like holy angels come To mortals in their faithful strides For country, love and home; Thou knowest the psalms by sages wrought, Through shaky, mythic phrase; Thou nobler psalms than they have taught, Yet they have all the praise. The time wdll come when this great state, With conscience clear and true, Will feel the strain of human fate. Revealed to them by you ; And from her high esteemed estate, She will throw open wide The portal of her royal gate. So long to us denied. Continue in thy noble w^ork, O, faithful sister great. Until thv mind redeemingr words. Are spread in every state; Bring womanhood her honors due. Heal up these long disgraces ; The time has come when woman must March out and lead the races. YOICE FROM THE SOUTH. Cain and Abel. '*To thine ownself be true, And it must follow as the night the day, Thou canst not then be false to any man." Cain was not true to Abel, Neither true to himself. Because Abel was true to both. He put his brother to death. I think how many a hundred Of innocent Neofro men. Each trying to do like Abel, Have died his death since then. Voice From The South. To Mrs. Annie Julia Cooper. I read that book, "Voice from the South, I read it o'er again ; I re-read, heart leaped up to mouth At its triumphant aim. It 'rouses those noble feelings. Which partly are obscure ; It makes us see as we are seen. And fits us to endure. VOICE FROM THE SOUTH. 87 It pictures a steadfast purpose, A brave and daring will, A human-needed promise that We hope the years will fill. Noble woman, grandly gifted. Sent to tell the world true facts; Sure the race will be uplifted By thy words, thy deeds, thy acts. Thy dauntless words are great and bold. At times they seem to be — Like John Brown's in dark slavery's days, While battling for the free. Earth's grandest hearts uplift to thee. They feel thy spreading fame ; And children that are yet to be Will '* hallowed be thy name." From thy book, those worthy pages, All our anxious hearts entreat ; All true trophies of the ages. Are enshrined at thy dear feet. Oh ! wished for, hoped for, happy time. When I can have the grace. To grasp thy hand, and more sublime, Upon th V statue gaze. VOICE FROM THE SOUTH. When e'er T 'tempt to write of thee, Love takes my thoughts away ; Thy dazzling fame makes all that flee, Which most I long to say. If thou hadst hearing in thy heart, To know how others beat; Then thou shouldst walk where'er thou art, Where throbbino^ millions o^reet. O ye w^hose noble, lucid pen, Forever filled with ink ; To touch the hearts and minds of men, And make whole nations think. It may be that in this cold world, You will be ostracised For noble truths which you have hurled At those who right despise. But Christ was ostracised by men. He conquered every one ; Brave Luther faced the Papal den, And he the victory won. So while within this vale of tears, Where sins and woes are rife; Thy words will prove, in coming years, The gift of mortal life. VOICE FROM THE SOUTH, 39 Since we are scattered as a race, And thou hast power to write ; While God prolongs thy days of grace, Cry to the race ''unite.*' Thou hast been writing, noble one, Thou dost not write in vain ; Thy words, methink, are pressing on, They shall be entertained. Thy writing has a dwelling place. Above this lynching ken; We hope thy spirit will never trace Such wicked haunts of men. In some far off diviner land, There stands a giant Mast; It waves to you a cheering hand, From heroes of the past. Thy 'lectric voice, whose strong control. As with an angel's breiith Can stir the fountain of the soul. And cheer the long bereft. Write on. and may thy words still strike The conscience of the nation ; Aid show that all men are alike. And have been since creation. 40 BISHOP PAYNE. Bishop Daniel A. Payne. (Deceased). He has gone forth in the light of light, Out of the long watch and the heavy night, Out of the life that was so hard to bear. Crowded by sorrow and perplexed by care. Love was the life which pulsed his being through, No task too hard, if set by love to do. No pain too sharp, if love called to endure, No weariness he knew if love was true. Heaven has received him as a welcome guest, Balming earth's tie with compensating rest, Healing earth's grievous wound with sure content, The sense of home after long banishment. But more to him than smile of vanished kin, Or hands outstreched to greet and draw him in. Or "bonded walls" of amethyst unpriced Is the clear vision of the face of Christ. The face divine, which, in his boyhood days. Seeing he loved and never looked away, Which, like a star in the dim firmament. Guided his steps and moved where' er h e went . DOUGLASS DEADf 41 Out of the life that was not always sweet, Out of the puzzle and the day's defeat, Out of earth's hindering and alien zone. The Lord of love has led him to his own. Douglass Dead? Across the nation's broad domain. On every hill, and every plain, Peals out the muffled, sad refrain, That Douglass is dead. O no, not dead ! for every heart In every state must surely start As freedom's great, uprising mart. If Douglass is detid ! And far across the deep blue sea, Those nations that love liberty. Their minds will be a mournful lea, For Douglass' death. Once freedom's great, uprising host, From Maine to California's coast, Of this great man could truly boast, And now he's dead! 42 THE EASTER MAN, In every heart of all the race, He'll ever have a sacred place. His name can never be erased, He is not dead! He's with Lincoln, John Brown, Grant, With Bishop Payne and Price he chants, With such surround inof host we can't Sav he is dead I The Easter Man* So crushed by sinful oppression, Through the ages long and drear, Men began to doubt and question, Whether Shiloh would appear. The Jewish doctors pondered. And Gentile sages dreamed. While on their weary vision No assuring light yet gleamed. But while time's dial was still moving, God, in a mysterious vvay. Let man go in his wonder. He knew the time and the day. TEE EASTER MAN. . 43 And the Watchman he stood mourning, Over Judah's seer that day; As up on Bethlehem's hillside, They wound their weary way. And the watchman cried "O Israel, How long are we to stand, Under the great oppressor's yoke, To be moved by Shiloh's hand?" When heaven and earth were silent. When the Lord's will would be done, The cry went from out Bethlehem, '* A man child there is born." Then burst the rapturous anthem ; *' Glory to God be given, Good will among the sons of Men Peace on earth and in heaven." While there in his manger cradle, The unconscious monarch lay. The babe of Bethlehem now born, To have universal sway. The human sea became restless, Earth's kingdoms began to shake, And the universal cry was "Never man like that man spake.'* 44 . THE EASTER MAN. When He began his active work, For three long toilsome years, He climbed degradation's mountain, Wadino^ throuo-h heart-aches and tears. But Jesus buried these sorrows, Knowing the world had its share ; He opened a crystal fountain, To wash away sinful snares. The more he spread his mission, The more he became despised, He forgave men this wickedness, And yet he was crucified. Nineteen centuries have passed and gone, Since '* it is finished" was cried. Every day during that time. The Savior's been crucified. If we ask ourselves the question, *' Why crucify one so dear?" Our hearts will respond full sadly, *' The answer is not here." The still, small voice from Calvary Cries " I did all this for thee," And from the ear of faith we hear, ** What art thou doing for me." THE EASTER MAN. 45 Silence reigned in Jerusalem, Men became bothered in mind, Questions were asked about Jesus, To answer wise men declined. On that lovely Easter morning, Mary and others came near, The angel solved the mystery, '' He's risen, He is not here." He spent forty days sojourning. To many he made himself known. He told of a city called Heaven, Entreated them to make it their home. He melted down satan's mansions. He made intercession for man. He gave his peace to the nations. And gave the disciples command. And then along the silent path. By viewless spirits trod. He left the blights of this sad earth. And went to dwell with God. Gates of Heaven all stood ajar. Bells of Heaven were ringing. Angels stood around the gate. Waiting, watching, singing. 46 THE EASTER MAN. And as the Savior entered in, Tiiey did not close the view, But left the gate standing ajar That we might enter too. Heaven's orchestra uttered aloud, "Worthy the Lamb that was slain To receive honor, glory, power. Blessings, world without end." For every thorn that gave a wound, A rose in Heaven was given. And joy, that there no roses found With rosy wreaths were riven. In paradise where breezes blow. To cool the heart's hot fever, The pangs and pain He felt below. Were waft away forever. To look at Thee, O Lord, as Thou art. From this mortal perishing clay. The spirit immortal in peace would de- part, And joyous mount up her bright way. MAN'S IMPEUFECriONS. 47 I know our stained tablets must first be washed white, To let Thy bright features be drawn. We know we must suffer the darkness of night, To welcome the coming of dawn. But we shall be satisfied when we can cast The shadow of nature all by, When the cold, heavy world from our vision has passed To let the soul open her eye. We come together in Easter service, To sing praises unto His name. Let every day be Easter in which We will sing His praises the same. Man's Imperfections. O life why so imperfect? And life cried in elation, Don't fault my God nor me correct, But man and his ovation. 48 MY SWEETHEART. The little bird enjoys his life, The ant improves his time ; Its only man's abusive strife, That wrecks this holy clime. The rippling stream goes swiftly by. The plants grow undistubed; And onh^ man tills life with sighs, And makes crime reign superb. The sun and moon and stars are bright. This earth's a paradise; But man stands in his own sunlight, As imperfection's vice. My Sweetheart. I went to bed the other night. My sleep was sweet in part ; I dreamed I saw a lovely sight. It was my dear sweetheart. She sat in the window watching, As I wjnt down the street; I threw a kiss back to her. Her face seem'd blossom sweet. MY SWEETHEART. 49 My sweetheart's image was with me, Whichever way I went, It banished all temptations. And gave me good intent. When the world seems full of trouble, When things seem to go wrong: My sweetheart's image is with me, And makes me brave and strong. T return'd by early twilight. And as I latched the gate ; I saw from the shaded window, My sweetheart still did wait. I hastened toward the window, I saw my sweetheart's eyes Sparkle with a smiling welcome. As the stars up in the skies, '^'m back again, dear sweetheart," I said, and stoop'd to kiss My sweetheart' s face thatwas lifted. It seem'd that all was bliss. You all have sweethearts like this one. Babies, sisters and brothers ; This sweetheart gives us lots of fun. My sweetheart was my mother. 50 LINCOLN'S CALL What do you think of my sweetheart? I shall not go any further; Can you blame a boy my size because He's dead in love with mother? The angel who unfetter' d St. Peter, When bound in Jerusalem's jail ; Is no greater than the angel Lincoln Who heeded the Negro's wail. LINCOLN'S CALL. 51 And never in all ages, Since John on Patnius wrote; Have words been put on pages As great as Lincoln spoke. Lincoln's CalL You know 'twas eighteen sixty-one, The civil war had just begun, The ship of state was at the place, To picture up the South's disgrace; And Lincoln quickly saw the point, Where he could knock things out of joint ; And all the sight which he had seen. Before his mind beo^an to orleam. He thought of countless human slaves, Murdered, buried without a grave; He thought of the wicked overseer. Whose cruelty could have no peer; He thought of the master's snarling cry — **That Negro's worthless, let him die." He thought of the Southern auction block. Where human beings sold as stock ; He thought of mother's wailing cry. When wicked men her child would bu}' ; He thought how cruel they could be, LINCOLN'S CALL. To counteract the mother's plea; He thoughthow men were sold like mules, And left their wives with wicked fools; He thought of Christian mother's weep, To see her child drove off like sheep; He thought of mother's vain distress, To have a babe sold from her breast ; And worst of all since God's creation, He thought of that abomination — Amalgamation of the races. On terms that sive us blushino^ faces; He thought of masters who had slaves, Whose virtue they would often crave ; And she, no matter how she feel. To master's wicked lust must yield; These sights as dark as dark midnight, Made angels shudder in their flight; The goddess of the angry deep, These horrors made her conscience weep; The gladiator drop'd his sword, At sight of Southern festive boards. Diana said with heart aglow. Such sights have never reign'd before; These thino^s weitrhed Lincoln'sheart with grief, And when the nation made him chief — LINCOLN'S CALL. 53 He gave a long, tremendous call, From out the nation's senate hall. And all the North heard his appeal, And marched out on the battle field; The Pilgrim Fathers, dead and gone, Pushed brave New England in the throng. Good William Penn said from his grave: *'My Quakers join the Lincoln wave." The father of the country said — " March on, it is the rightful tread!" The heroes of Thermopylae Heard Lincoln's call for liberty. And cried from out their distant graves, ''If you must die, men's freedom save." Crispus Attucks, whose blood ran down. When Washington was in renown, His blood cried out *'if you'd be free, All strike at once for liberty !" Sojourner Truth, her voice was heard, *' March on !" was the commanding w^ord, Nat Turner screamed out from the sod ; *' I would thou precious, all wise God, Had spared my life upon the land To follow Lincoln's brave command. Then I could quickly do my part, For poor down-trodden, human hearts. 54 LINCOLN'S CALL. I'd help to strike that mighty blow, To let my bonclaged people go ! " John Brown's bleeding body cried: "This is the cause for which I died!" Frederick Douglass, grand old man, Who aided John Brown in his plans, Who stood with Lincoln and conversed, Was ready now to stand the worst. He used his voice, his pen, his mind, And men who heard him fell in line. These voices echoed Lincoln's sound. And stin-ed the people all around ; From Maine to California's coast. Rose freedom's o^reat advancing; host. Men speaking in the senate hall, Responded to the noble call ; The Gov'nors left the state affairs, The writer left his easy chair, The lawyer quit the city bar, And left his office door ajar; The bus'ness man went out his store, Perhaps to enter there no more ; The teacher left his tutorship. And gave his gun a lasting grip. The student left his study desk, And marched with teacher breast abreast, L7NC0L^'S CALL. 55 The hunter left the stag at bay, For Lincoln's call he must obey; " The plow was in the furrow staid, The herds without a keeper stray 'd," The iish'man left his pole and line, The blacksmith drop'd his red hot iron. The artist let go paint and brush, And to the arniy made a rush. Husbands kissed their wives good-bye. Left the children, went to die; Mothers told sons to heroes be, In the cause of liberty; The young man in the prime of life. Left his newly wedded wife ; The lover left his loved one's side Whom he had vowed to make his bride. He loved his girl with all his heart. But country's love was now his part; Each son and father rushed to arms. At Lincoln's signals of alarm. The war began, brave Lincoln stood. As pilot in the human flood ; Again he made a long appeal, More men were needed in the field. His voice was heard all o'er the land, A million men obeyed command. 56 LINCOLN'S CALL. At Gettysburg, brave Lincoln stood, And he was in a better mood ; He saw the cause for which he fought, Was phiin before the people brought; And on that bloody battlefield, The enemies began to yield; And Lincoln, with his God push'd pen, Wrote these words on the hearts of men : "All human beings claimed as slaves — Are placed upon great freedom's wave." And angels echoed around the throne ; "Rejoice thy freedom is thy own !" The Negro left his master's farm, For he had heard the last alarm, ^ But half in doubt and half in stress, He wondered which would be the best — " If massa ketch me gwine away^ He'll kill dis nigger shw as day ; But whats de use to stay back herr. He's killing niggers ehry yerr, Boss Lincoln says dat I am free, ril strike a blow for liberty!'' He marched out like a soldier man, And joined the host of freedom's van. The war moved on for two more years. And brave men fought without a fear. LINCOLN'S CALL. 57 Till Sherman's host had reached the sea, And Grant had captured noble Lee, Then men laid down their arms of yore. And peace did reign from shore to shore. Now Lincoln's work was bravely done, The confidence of Men he'd won. His enemies he'd conquered well, And they before him prostrate fell. He'd kept the faith, he'd fought hisfight, And in the stillness of the night — When he least look'd for any strife, A demon struck him for his life. He fell a corpse to mortal man,^ In this down trodden, sinful land; His soul had heard the angel's cry ; "Thy work's complete, thy home's on high," So when the general roll is called. Including, Wickliffe, Luther, Paul ; Men who hiive died to set men free, Lincoln's name on the list will be. And men who dwell, upon the earth. Will yet concede to Lincoln's worth, And burn his birthday in the minds, Of children 'till the end of time. As long as there remains a trace 58 HUlUtAlI POR McKlNLEY! Of Afric blood in iiiortal face, 80 long will Lincoln honored be, His virtues sung from sea to sea. Hurrah for McKiiiley! Hurrah for McKinley ! Hurrah for Hobart ! And the St. Louis convention That didn't mind revolts, We have rallied round the flag boys, Rallied once again, Hear the cry of freedom and McKinley . Hurrah for New England ! Hurrah for Illinois ! New York, Pennsylvania, And all the other boys Who have rallied, etc. Hurrah for sound money ! Hurrah for protection— That sends free silver Where there'll be no resurrection, M^e will rally, etc. BURR AH F'OR Md^lNL^T! 59 Hurrah for the nation ! How it rings from sea to sea, That McKinlej is elected Which insures prosperity. We have rallied, etc. Hurrah ! how McKinley Broke the Mason-Dixon line, Boys, the solid South is broken. And shall be till end of time. We have rallied, etc. Hurrah for McKinley ! Who's in Abe Lincoln's track, Who believed that a gentleman, Can be either white or black. Let us rally, etc. Hurrah for McKinley ! Who called upon his state, To help keep a Negro From the dreadful lynching fate. Negroes rally, etc. Hurrah for McKinley ! Who said he'd have no wine, And those at the inaugural To drink had to decline. Temperance rally, etc. eo THE CALL ALL MUST OBEY, The Call All Must Obey. A voice whispered to an infant, Sitting on its mother's knees, ** Leave that pUice for a moment, I want you to go with me," *' How can I leave my mamma's hip. And do without her sweet smiles. How can I live without her aid?" Replied the innocent child. The same voice whispered to a child. Who knew not the right from wrong, " Comechild, leave} our play for awhile, And join this mighty throng," The child replied in earnest tones, *' 1 cannot go with you now — You see what I have here to do. My play house is all torn down." *' Come," said the stern voice to a youth, While plodding along his w^ay. And many youths were with him there, All cheerful and full of plliy . **How can I come," replied the youth, *' I'm hastening on to school, And if I'm late," my mother says, *'Its agjainst the teacher's rule." THE CALL ALL MU 1ST OBEY. 61 "Come," the voice said to a maid, Just in her twentieth year. While men were passing too and fro, Some in hope and some in fear; "How can I come," replied the maid, "While all of life's temptations Surround my head, and I must be A factor to the nation." The voice approached a bright young man Just entering the prime of life, "Come," said the voice, theyoungman stopped. As if in a human strife. "How can I come? My days are brief. The responsibility That rests upon my shoulders, Is spread from sea to sea." The voice then sought a poet's abode, Who was seeking after a rhyme, And the poet had an answer Both elusive and sublime. " How can you ask for me to come, Leave me to myself I pray. For the verse which I am writing The hearts of men will sway." 62 THE CALL ALL MUST QBE T. '*Come," said the voice to a songster As she raised her alto voice, And the music sent forth by her, Made the hearts of men rejoice. **Hovv can I come," said the songster, ''This workl is sinking in sin. And I am to sing God's mercies Into the hearts of men." "Come," said the voice to a statesman. While speaking in the senate hall. And his voice aroused the senate Like troops at a bugle call. ''How can I come," said the statesman. While our dear ship of state, Is hanging, trembling, weakening. At the sight of future fate?" '*Come," said the voice to a mother, With her children at her side. And she made the home a haven. For her husband to abide. "Oh, I can't come," the mother said, " I pray you let me st^iy, For how can I leave my darlings To wander from me astray?" THE CALL ALL MVbT CLEY. 63 The voice sent out no more appeals, The baby left its mother, The child with a torn down play house Didn't stop to build another; Theyouth, returning home from school, Responded to the call. And the maiden with her beauty Had to enter in the thrall. And the young man meditated. For he was just in his prime. But he joined the great procession When the voice called, it was time; And the poet, with his meekness. Had to quit his composition ; For the voice had called him hither. It was due a recognition. The songster's voice was heard no more. The world still had its sins. The statesman left the senate floor. And was heard no more by men ; And the mother left her children, And they cried with sobbing breath. But the voice which spoke — men must obey. It was the voice of death. 64 HARRIET BE EC HER STOWE. Harriet Beecher Stowe's Works. *♦ Uncle Tom's Cabin." That grand and noble woman dear, Called Harriet Beecher Stowe, The book she wrote without a fear Drove slavery from our shore. To know her works, to feel her worth, Go read that noble book And see what dauniless words she wrote, What fearful risk^ she took. It struck a blow to slavery's tree, That burned its very life; It scorched the undergrowth around, And left it in a strife ; It parched the branches to a crisp, Withered the leaves in twain, It drove the sap into the ground To never rise ao^ain. Dark slavery rested on the base, That Africans were brutes, That they should be a white man's slave Or dwell in destitute; It said his sensibility Was not of human kind. And if he loved, 'twas not the love Which with the heart combines. HARRIET BE EG II ER STOWE. 65 And hence the children could be sold, Husband and wife untied. And with a mind all full of glee, In distant parts abide; No matter what the master did To slaves who were akin, 'Twas just the same as with a mule. The master didn't sin. These doctrines were supported by Religion, law and science, The preacher who preached otherwise. Was held up in defiance; The surgeon tauo^ht that Nesi^ro flesh Under the whip and knife. Was not affected like white men. Hence 'twas not human strife. Politicians said that it was Fixed as the lasting hills. And God considered it as pure As nature's rippling rills; The statesman, judge and governor Said that it was a rule, The Negro slave should have the same As oxen, horse and mule. 5 HARRIET BE EC HER STOWE. Men divine, wrote book upon book, P\)rcing restitution, And tried to prove that slavery was A God sent institution. To speak, to w^ite, to think against This inhumanity. Was nothing but a case of what Was called insanity. It was at such a time as this That Harriet Beecher Stowe, Called "Uncle Tom" upon the scene. And made him walk before The gaze of all the countries 'round. She made him speak and cry, In twent}^ different languages She made him pray and sigh. She then asked all the world who heard His wild distressing prayer. If 'twas not likely that a heart Humane is stationed there; She brought forth George and showed his grand Affections for his wife. His love for liberty, and how He fought the slavish strife. HARRIET BEECHER STOWE. 67 She brought Haley, the Negro trader, Who had no human heart, Who stole the virtue of his slaves, And then the lash impart ; Who took a newly wedded wife Before her husband's gaze. Could the devil have seen all this, He w^ould have stood amazed. She then showed forth the Christian heart Of Mister Shelby's wife. Who sympathized with all the slaves In their discouraged strife ; Who wept when she first heard the news From her dear husband bold. When she asked where was Uncle Tom, He said " the brute is sold." These things and hundreds, thousands more. This noble book had shown, And there stood Harriet Beecher Stowe, Between pulpit and throne ; 'She stood nearer the Throne of (jod. Than all false priests before. And turned the search light on to show • The heartache and the woe. 68 HARRIET BE EC HER STOWE. She wrote brave words and spead them, Upon the human breeze, That made pro-slav'ry clergymen. Draw in their breath and sneeze ; Her shafts were sent hilt deep into The tender, human heart. Just like the shepherd boy who smote The giant with his dart. This book had made the world grow mad, With slavery and its crime. Before the bloody battlefield. With marching tread did chime ; Before John Brown had died to save, Before great Lincoln's call. Before brave Sherman reached the sea, Before Grant captured all. She called from out its slumb'ring tomb. Affections of the soul. She armed them with eternal light, And sent them forth so bold Against the greed, the gain, the lust. That these two forces fouo^ht. Like Wolfe and Montcalm on the plain. Till ritrht had error wrought. HARRIET BEECHER STOWE. 69 Harriet Beecher Stowe's Monument. She has builded a human monument The walk of which will stand, Long after she's departed from The dwellers in the land, Long after buildings have crumbled. That are planted on the sand. She decided to build for others, And the building sheltered her not, And some who dwell within there, Through all time shall know her not, And beneath the roof of the building She'll have no lot or part. And yet when the days shall have ended, And beneath the roof tree's shade, The children and grand children, In childish ways have played, And passed from under the building. And vanished into the shade; Some dweller beneath the building. Thinking of when it was new. May say as his heart turns backward. Keeping his age in view. The woman who built this building, Builded better than she knew\ 70 SONNET— OCTOBER, And she, though she has passed onward, Hearing the Master's ctill, May say, though it may not matter To her what the building befall, That it's better to build for others, Than to have no building at all. Sonnet, October. Here in sweet Nature's lonely gale, The leaves are gone ; The autumnal woods, all 'round our vale, Have glory on. I roam these woods that nature crowns With splendor's glow; Where the company of trees look down On fields below. This month is the gloomiest and saddest Of all the year ; For in it nature's summer gladness All disappear. Nature all around serene elates Us from the sod ; And points the heart and mind of man. Towards the throne of God. MAC EO— CUBA'S LIBERATOR. 71 Maceo— Cuba's Liberator. While Washington at Valley Forge, Endured the winter's pest; And while he was taking Yorktown Dear Cuba was oppressed. 72 MA(nW CUBA'S LrBiniATOR. When Kn were of the patent kind,. His overcoat he'd left behiud. THE TllIP I WOULD LIKE. I And she says: "What's the matter dear?' He says, "See how it snows out here," And if I have to go out doors, I'll set frost bitten on the nose." These two did love from depth of heart ; In danger's realm they could not part; And now I ask both men and maids, Whether this man went home or stayed. The Trip I Would Like to Tal^e. Man has a curious appetite, He's all the time wishing to go ; And if he had the wings of a kite. He'd travel this wide world o'er. Sometime I'd like to go away, Far over the Rocky Mountains ; Where the rainbows dance on silvery rays. Of California's fountain. In the rocks below, in the trees above. In the brooklet and the river I could read and know that God is love, And of all good things the giver. 100 THE TRIP I WOULD JAKE. I would like to go to the Y^ellowstone, And witness the giant geysers; To see its gnindure there {done, W^ould surely make me wiser. For in the roar the hissing stream, As it issues from the crater; I could there learn more of the bound- less theme, Of a kind and wise Creator. Then I would go to the great Black Hills, Across the plains of Dakota; And take a stroll to the rippling rills. And lakes of Minnesota. I would sit on lake Itaska's shore Where the Mississippi rises; And Minnehaha's laughing roar \A^)uld till me with glad sui-prises. I'd go to the '• Dreamy city," Well 3^es, and while I was there ; I'd make myself a committee, To witness the ruins of the fair. I would journey then to Southern climes, 'Mid Florida's blooming bowers; There to see Gv)d's work sublime. In the beautiful, fragrant flowers. THE TllfP I WOULD LIKE. lol From there I'd make a flying trip, To the gateway city of the east; And from its great exldbits, And Negro arts I'd feast. And then a little cruise I'd take, Along the Atlantic Ocean ; To where the earth with a powerful quake Put Charleston in wild commotion. I would still continue on my way. Through the Shenandoah valley. Where the *' boys in blue and the boyvS in gray," Would waver again to rally. Then I'd 5:0 to Nias^ara's Falls, And there I would learn and wonder, For God can teach in a voice that calls From the cataract's deafening thunder. I'd wander over into Texas, To visit a loving sister, I'd talk of the days gone and past. And tell her how I had missed her. I would then cross into Mexico, And visit those ancient mounds ; That were built hundreds of years ago. Whose mystery man has not found. 102 THE TRIP T WOULD UKE. I'd tro to Italy's sunny climes, To the *'city of seven hills," And from its structure of ancient times, And orandure I'd be tilled. I'd go to the unspeakable Turk, Aniono- the Armenian strife; And ask them how from conscience clear, They still took human life. I'd go before the courts of France, \Miere Waller was in jail ; rd])rick theirears with facts, and make Their conscience go his bail. Then I would journey to the North, To see that Shakespearian land; Where Handet said from conscious wrath "What a })iece of work is num." I would then go to the Holy Land, Where the Saviour was crucified. Then I could better kee}) His commands, Seeing the place where He died. Fd traverse all the paths of Paul, Among the various nations ; Then I'd go where man had his fall, And view the land of creation. THE TRIP I WOULD LIKE. 103 I'd then oo into Egypt land, Where Joseph was sent by God, I'd stand where Moses gave command, I'd tread where Israel trod. I'd go into Africa's Jungles. Where the Bible has never been. And attempt God's word to mumble, In the hearts of heathen men. I'd visit then the Isles of the sea, And view^ those novel scenes, I'd tell the people what to be. And not what they should seem. If I was able Christiiin friends. To travel this journey through. It would not be for sights or scenes. But teaching men to be true. And if I could on this journey roam. My trip would not be ended; I'd like to view^ the eternal home, And there be recommended. 104 ALONE Wiril JESUS. Alone with Jesus. Over the hills and dales, Jesus, that I strolled in the long ago, I am wandering once again nij Lord, where dame nature's teachings glow; And I pause by the way to whisper. Lord, to the blossoms sweet and fair, A poor little faded sorrow. Lord, there's no- body else to care. Springtime with all its joys, Jesus, is out on the old highway, But the breezes sigh as they pass me by and over the meadows stray ; Mournfully sigh the breezes. Lord, as they pass me standing there. By the ])ine tree row where the daises grow, and no})ody for me cares. Standing ahme with the trees, my Lord, I am lost in a pensive dream, I am floating away through the happy day, when my youthful conscience gleam. The conscience that ^hi'.rcd n.y lo\e fcr you, The conscience that smiled as fair. As the promise true I was glad to view, with nobodv else to care. ALONE WITH JESUS, 105 Over the hills and dales, Jesus, in the shadow- ing cool of da^s Conies the echo low of long ago the tenderest things to say. And I smile anew as the twilight conies toban- ish my long despair With a thought of You that is sweet and pure and wonder if You will care. Something speaks to me, eJesus, the breez- es are singing low, Something that thrills the conscience, Lord, and gives them a brighter glow ; Something that soothes the pinching pain I have patiently learned to wear, Through the endless day on the sweet high- way, it seems, Lord, that you are there. Then elesus said ''I'm with you now, and will be with you always, We'll go together and make things better alono^the sweet highway, " We strolled through the meadows together, the days seemed endless fair. He told me of His home on high and the many mansions there. 108 MT BIBLE. My Bible. From Santa Clau.s' niot^t sacred nook, Came forth this little prayerful book. On Christmas day. As the old year is past and jjone, And the new year heains with song, I'll read its ray. As we look back o'er our past lives. And see from whence blessings derived, We all should pray. Oh ! who so brave with earthly care, As not to give an humble prayer, Some part of day ? What heart so clear, so pure within. That needelh not some check from sin, Needs not to pray ? Mid each day*s anger, what retreats, More needful than the mercy seat, On that last day? What thoughts more dear than that our God, His face should hide And say through life's swelling tide, No time to hear? i/r jirnLh:. icT You have launched your boat on life's gid- dy sea, And your all is alloat for eternity, When you have no time to pray. You have chosen the world, with its mis- named pleasures ; You have chosen the world before heav- en's own treasures, If you have no time to pray. When the stars are concealed, the rudder gone, Heaven will be sealed to ihe wandering one, Who has no time to pray. The grave shall yield its prize when from the wondering skies, Christ shall with wondering angels come, to wake those sleeping in the tomb. Then you'll have no time to pray. Oh! may it ever be said, that this book, by us, shall be read. And, may we all together meet. Embrac- ing the Redeemer's feet, For we have time to pray. 108 FASHION. Fashion. MRster of the woman's kingdom, What is this men say of thee? Thou art what the woman honors, Thou art all some care to be! And they say, you're loved by many, Loved too often, loved too well. Just as if there could be any Over loving in thy swell. Sir, no doubt these dear good people. Were you not their earthly God, Could build them a (Christian steeple Up to heaven, without a hod. You and Solomon the wise man. Are two fellows of a kind. Just to please the wants of woman, You would leave your soul behind. And those sisters that can't catch you, What a plight they must be in I For the sono- vou sino^ oft leads them To commit an awful sin. Now all wicked aspirations. Do not spring from sotils depraved Into fashion. Its elation Is the sanctity it craved. FASHION. IS In the world's Ion": reign of struggles, Thou hast played an active part ; Hast thou during all thy journey, Mended up a broken heart? Thou hast found some so despondent. Who the name of God despise; Hast thou tried to once control by Pointing over to Paradise? VVhen thou lindest men and women. Struggling for the higher life, Dost thou lend a hand to help them? No, thou causest human strife ! Woman tries to be thy servant, Disobeys dame Nature's laws. Ere she reaches thirty summers, Shattered frame and sunken jaws. Ere she comes to age of duty. Her own grave she's quickly dug. Simply 'cause thy longing beauty. Keeps her body in a shrug. You o-o with them to the church house, They do not hear the preacher; You are all their heart's ehition. You are their Sunday teacher. 110 FASHION. Thou hast seized the cross of Jesus, Loaded it with new born sins ; Overloaded it with folly, Placed it on His back again, Thou, in th>^ domain of pleasure, Crush the thorns throuo^h Jesus ' cro wn Making men laugh at His passions, And the blood thatS trickling down. Thou art in the great theatres, Thou art on the ball room floor ; Thou art in the gambler's dungeon. Thou dost all men's sorrows know. Thou hast severed many fam'lies, Children off from home have strayed ; Fjither sits there broken hearted, Mother joined thy great parade. Well, no doubt you had your troubles, Devils blue that fought ^^our hopes; But you have it back in double, AVoman's kingdom in a lope. If your lady love stuck by you. In the mediaeval day. Ah ! dear fashion, here is to you. In these tiuies that is the way. STIWNO DRINK. HI Always sure you have your glory, It increases and takes well ; What the end is of thy story, There's no paragraph to telL At thy feet a million people Lie today without a breath ; Who, in worshiping thy steei)le, Found an everlasting death. Btroiig: Brink* There is a crime upon this land, That works both night and day, It gives its wicked, dark command, The hearts of men it sways. It brings men from all ranks of life, Down to the brutish tribe, Where ever^^thing is Avar and strife, And wickedness abide. It goes into the sacred homes, Where peace and love should be ; It makes the children long to roam, And home affections flee. 112 STRONG BRINK. It knocks the noble mother down, It kicks her on the floor, And makes her husband give her frown. Which follows with a blow. Sometimes it curses mother dear. And stabs her bleeding heart. And, filled with sorrow, love, and fear. From husband's face departs. It strips the children naked and Leaves them without their food; It breaks the fam'lj^ coral strand, And leaves thino^s dark and rude. It takes the joung man in his prime. And makes him curse his mother. But this is the beginning crime. It takes him even further. It makes him take the spotless heart Of soiiie bright, prosperous maid. And take it to the demon mart. And there has it arrayed. It makes her break the marriage vow, While in her honey moon. And long from his demoniac rows, To roam and cure her swoons. STRONG DRINK. 113 It makes the young man poison all The tissues of her system, And various diseases make This maid their deathly victim. He soon vacates this world himself, And leaves a weeping widow. With mind, and soul, and heart bereft, A past all dark and bitter. He leaves with her an infant child, With an intemperate birth ; To, if it lives, go and defile Some other one of worth. This demon takes a million youths In every passing year, And makes them disregard the truth. And give to right a jeer. It strikes a million mothers' hearts. That should be filled with joy. And makes their inner senses start With ** Where's my precious boy?" It takes a million mid-life men. From out the state and church. And takes them to its wicked den W^here conscience walks with crutch. 114 STRONG BRINK. It takes the old retirino^ snire, Who should give good ndvice, And makes him, in his ripe old age Detest the livino^ Christ, Tt makes the leaders of the state Forget that man needs limit, And names this crime industry g^reat. Because there's money in it. It tills our penitent' rj walls, It runs the county farms; It overflows the prison stalls. With all its death-like charms. Its fruits are the asylums, and Poor-houses, and hospitals, The gambling hell, the illfamed house. Where satan plays the fiddle. It wrecks the system of a man. Promotes arterial action, Inflames the liver and it stands Amidst diseases' factions. This prej^s upon the active lungs, Which paints the hectic cheek. And prophecies a sepulcher For a consumptive freak. STRONG BRINK. 115 This follows on the fatal train, Promoting untold sadness, Until it strikes upon the brain. Which brings distressing madness. The victim feels himself in hell Whde he's with living men; And he could whet the dagger well, To take the life of friends. His wicked passions are inflamed, With crime, with lust, with anger, And drops his heart in human shame Beneath all human candor. He seeks to hold relentless war, With God, or man, or self; All men to him are at a par. His mind is all bereft. This crime is universal. It travels this wide world o'er, It makes men's hearts reversal. And puts conscience out the door. It has swallowed generations, And made whole nations shrink ; Its mission is damnation, This crime is named *' Strong Drink." 116 SAM J ONES. Sam Jones. Who 18 it for the hist two weeks Has been in our town. And on the end of every tongue We hear his name resound? Who is it everj night and day. Would draw a mighty crowd, And from the depth of his own heart, Poured forth God's truth aloud? Who was it that appealed to all, To every class of men, And showed the dreadful wickedness. In their indul^finir sins? Who was it culled the children out And told them what to do, And told them what they must forbid. To be God's children true? Who touched that little tender chord Within their youthful hearts, And deep down in their youthful souls Did God's own word impart? SAM JONES, 117 Who called the mothers out one day And opened to their view, The way they must through life's conflicts Lead their dear children through? Who told them that their mission was More sacred than them all, That they built up a platform where The child would stand or fall ? M^ho told the wives that selfsame day What was their sacred duty, And told the daughters, young and old, That character was. beauty? Who told the young men that the world Was hanging on its fate. And waiting for some noble men To fill the church and state? And then who told the fathers dear That they too had a hand. That on the fam'ly's record book Were traces of their hands ? Who told them that the faithful wife, Who was the queen of home, W^ ere due all his affections, that He had.nx)-tinie to.roam? 118 A HUMAN ARTIST. Who told them that those children dear Now phiying at mother's knee, Depended on their father's strength, They'd be what father'd be? Who called men from the ganibling hell, And told them that the cards, Thai they had pushed from day to day Would their own child retard? Who called men from the low saloons And told them that the cup Would cause their sons to be like them, No better than a pup. Who drew the tears to Christian eyes, And caused their souls to weep; Who made some sinners cry aloud, '^'11 try God's word to keep?" But time is brief and I must stop, Do you all understand ; Excell and Steward both were there, But Sam Jones was the man. A Human Artist. Would that I were an artist And while I stand in time I could show our youths eternity. While they are in their prime. MAfD AND MOSQUITO, 119 Would that I were an artist, And to this American nation I'd picture out the lynching crime And show its revelation. Would that I were an artist, I would draw a human heart, I'd show to men and women The effects of corrupted parts. And then I'd outline Paradise, And give a celestial view, I'd show to men their future home. If while on earth they're true. Maid and Mosquito. A maiden sat at midday hour, Beneath a shady tree. She heard a noise within her bower, ** My soul, what can it be?" She looked around, but looked in vain. Fur nothing met her gaze, She quieted down to read again, Its voice tgain was raised. 120 MAID AND MOt^QUITO. Hiirk ! hush I I know it can't be far, 'Tis clearer than before, Is it the whistle of the car, Or distant thunder's roar? Ah! soon I'll know for here it conies, Mj nerves quake in their bud, For with its long and pointed tongue 'Twill pierce and drink my blood. My doom is sealed, I know my fate, OI would that I were a man. He darts from his atrial state And lights upon her hand. She screamed for help and raised a stick And fought, for she could not hide. The great mosquito gave a kick. Fell from her hand and died. She could not read because she had Deep meditating thoughts, She stood and gazed upon the spot Where she'nd the skeeter fought. But presently she heard a noise Circling around her head. And there was a score of skeeters, Singing songs. of the tiead.- ;^ MAGNA EtiT VEHITAS. IJIl She closed her book and sat upright, The skeeters increased their mew, She saw she could not stand it long, So she grabbed her book and flew. Magna est Veritas, I want to be a soldier, From realms of heavenly light, Be pure in soul, and bold in heart, And o-uide all mankind right, I want to serve the weary. And cause a light to shine In every path that's dreary. To cheer when strength declines. I want that meek and tender glory That fills the soul with life, So dear to youth, to age and hoary, To all so dear and free from strife. Our lives are unincumbered By depressing want and woe. And the days fly by unnumbered, Smoothly down time's path they go. 122 MAGNA EsT VERITAS. I'm trying to forge ji key To ope the gates of heaven ; That key'8 in the hearts of men, And back its bolts are driven. Lord strengthen me, that while I stand On the rock, and strong in Thee, I may stretch out a loving hand To wrestle a troubled sea. Lord, teach me, that I may teach The things thou dost impart, Help me and my w\ants to reach The depths of many a heart. *'To place my thoughts in one line," In a decoration of beauty, And get behind my conscience, My whole life's work is duty. These w^ords come to my mind, ** The work of the world is done by a few," These words come from my conscience, *'God looks for a part to be done by you." JUST MARRIED. 123 Jvist Married. You've launched in a new vessel, And down life's stream you're going, Remember that life's tides will rise, And life's winds will be blowing. But while the storms are raging, Stand by each other's side. And just as 'tis when all is calm, Your boat will stem the tide. Eternal love and wisdom drew The plan of earth and skies, Let His great love be e'er your guide Throughout your married lives. May your lives be prosperous. And always full of love. And may you both be led by Him Whose home's in heaven above. All earthly good we wish thee. All orood for thee and thine. And still not only earthly, But all that is divine. May heaven and earth both mingle, May earth and heaven be one AH through your earthly journey, Till set your earthly sun. 124 WOMAN IN CONQUERS. The heart that vou have given, The heart that's given to you, May both be joined together, May both be good and true. In shadow and in sunshine, In sighing and in song, May heaven bless your union, Throughout vour whole life Ions; Woman in Congress. Well, a woman went to congress, Because she was elected ; She lived in a woman's era, Hence she was not objected. All of the leading problems Of the country's weal or woe, Were discussed while there at congress. And her mind was all aglow. And a lady friend said to her ; **Did you catch the speaker's eye?" *' I sure did, and I'll tell you The simple reasorttwhy ! " LIFE PICTURES. 125 ''I wore my navy blue bloomers, And heliotrope skirt waist; And his eyes were ever on me, I dressed to suit his taste." This woman was a congressman She had the states at heart ; Of course she had to dress that way, For that's a woman's part. Life Pictures. One little look from mother, Has caused the innocent child. To go into spasmodic shame Or a distillation of smiles. Just one little word when spoken, In a soft and gentle tone, May send reviving spirits Into a heart of stone. Sometimes a soul that's frigid, Though frozen up for years. May, by an act of kindness Be melted into tears. 126 QUIETUDE. So we, whose lives are lighted With all the world holds dear, Should give to those less favored A kindly word of cheer. These little things we count for naught. Hold all our greatest power, The dewdrop on the thirsty bud Opens the fragrant flower. Quietude. When my daily toil is ended And the sun begins to wane, O, if I could find some quietude, To dispel my care and pain. What a peaceful change I'd witness. How my heart with rapture'd glow. While the murmurs of the quietude Lull my soul in sweet repose. Quietude while I am busy. Calmly on the bustling shore. Better hearts than mine can love thee, Purer lives thy peace adore. A CHRISTMAS GIFT. 127 Should perchance someone enjoying Kesidence within thy shrine, Bury in thy placid bosom, All his cares along with mine. A Christinas Gift. (Bible.) Do you know that this is Christmas, And this little book is sent As a messenger of One who Came to earth with good intent? Came to earth, left home in glory. On that first cold Christmas day, And He's left this as a token. Showing us the right of way. When you ponder o'er its pages. Think of how the Savior died. How He suffered men's outrages. Loved them, yet was crucified. Can we count redemption's treasure. Scan the glory of God's love? Such shall be the boundless measure Of His blessings from above. K8 THE N EG no's ''AMERICA:' When the Christ mases are over, And the Savior comes again, May you join the happy chorus. And in glory be ordained. The Negro's "America." My country, 'tis of thee. Sweet hind of liberty^ Would I could sing; Its land of Pilgrim's pride Also where Ij^nched men died With such upon her tide. Freedom can't reio^n. My native country, thee The world pronounce you free Thy name I love; But when the lynchers rise To slaughter hunum lives Thou closest up thine eyes, Thy God's above. Let Negroes smell the breeze. So they can sing with ease Sweet freedom's song; Let justice reign supreme. Let men be what they seem Break up that lyncher's screen. Lay down all wrong. FLEETING SPRING. 129 Our fathers' God, to Thee, Author of liberty, To Thee we sing; How can our land be bright? Can Ivnchino: be a lio^ht? Protect us bv thv niiorht, Great God our King ! Fleeting Spring. Friends, my dear friends, do you know That Springtime's April is gone, And lovely May with all its show, Has nature's spring coat on? Birds, little birds, yes you know That it is beautiful sf)ring; From tree to tree, the birdies go, On fleetinor wino: I Quaker, quaker, do you know That the yellow is going? More than that do you know That the orreen is orrowino:? Singer of songs, do you know That youth is Hying? That age, at the lock of your life. Will soon be prying? 130 TIME -ETERNITY. Lover of life, do you know That youth's hue is jroingr? More than that, do you know That the gray is showing? Time — Eternity. The Saint's Depart"»jre. I had a dream the other night, I saw some strange and mystic sights That puzzled me ; Some things I saw resembled time. And some resembled more sublime — "Eternity." The oriental Persian scenes. The tropics with their bright sunbeams, Could not compare. And even Italy's soft'ning hills, Pleasant dales and rippling rills. Would stand aglare. I saw the sun rise in the East, And watched to see its Western feast. It nerer set ; I wandered 'round among the throng. To see if any soul was wronged. But none 1 met. TIME^ETERNITY. 131 They all had on their bright attire, It seem'd thej never would retire To workman's garb; I wondered how they could exist, Forever in a pleasure mist. My senses throbb'd. I strolled around the city's limit, To find the tombstones that were in it. And as I went I saw towers and castles high. But not a white slab to my eye Said monument. I souo:ht to find the destitute. And wondered why they were so mute, I felt for them ; I could not get a single sigh. Nor even see a tearful eye. No face was grim. I went into a chapel grand. Its walls were gold. I saw a man Stand by the door; ** There's no place for the poor I see!" And he this answer made to me: '*We have no poor." 132 TiyfE ETERNITY. I was perplexed, so I sat down, Beneath a shade tree's springtime sound And this ini})lied: "Sir! whence come all these loving scenes, This landscape to our eyes serene. Sir ! where am I?" And then out from among the leaves, And from the pathway's ilower wreathes, And 'cross the stream; There came a throntrinor band of saints, AVith countenance above complaints, Joy reigned supreme. At tirst I thought I knew their voices. Their greetings to me were the choicest, I made a start ; Hut they, arrayed in shining gold. Appeared as strangers in the fold, I knew them not. And when they saw me puzzled stand, 'I'he mio^hty throns did ciai) their hands. Saying "welcome." And all the mystery passed away. The band cried out ' ' you're here to stay. This is hearen !" (W.ASS VAJ.EDT(rrORIAN. 133 I found thnt time had orone its trip, Eternity h:id fixed its orip On liunian hearts; The rieh and poor togethei* stood, Upon one solid brotherhood — Never to part. And some one said from out the throng, *'Are all here who have conquered wrong?" He was a seer ; And voi'^es from all generations. Sent forth in loudest exclamation: '' We are all here." An angel cried ''Time why depart?" And Time replied with cheerful heart, I used to be; But God, the maker of mankind, 8aid some day I should be defined ^* Eternity, '- Class Valedictorian. To A. R. The struggles you have made in school. Today are crowned with honor; You stand now in a vestibule. That causes you to ponder. 134 CLASS \ALEDICTORIAN. School diiys and childhood days must end, And life's tempestuous storms; From every part are coming in, Be firm ! Be true ! Be calm ! In conversation once you said The highest human standing Would be your goal. And you'd be led By all your rights demanding. No matter what the \vorld may say, Adopt this as an omen — That you will go the right of way, And make yourself a woman. A gentle yoice is calling thee, The future calls for aid; And those stern ones in death made free, Tell you the price they ]>aid. Stand forth for God and liberty. Stand forth for human rights; In one strong effort, worthy thee. Soul stenciled, be a light. Enter the field of life to do. Not just to work for gain ; For such mottoes make men untrue, Narrowino^ the heart and brain. CLASS VALEDICTORIAN. 135 Enter not in a feverish strife, Nor in a oriddvinor whirl, For these dry the fountain of life, And gulfs the soul in a swirl. Enter not in a dull routine, He who was meant to be king, Thus will be made a dull machine, Grindincr down to a thinor. Your classmates have their ejes on you, Your kindred watch your motion, Your friends have all your acts in view, Your ship is on the ocean. And world-wide Christendom at large, Stands waiting for your action ; And God, who shaped your fleeting barge. Has with you a transaction. Thus environed move forward brave, Surmount all opposition, And on this restless human wave, Make better man's condition. Go forth, thou leader of the class, With brain ahead of brawn; Strive e'er to gain the foremost place, Let no man take thv crown. 13« CLASS VALEDTCTOUTAN. As you move off into life's sea, With skill to use the pen; Be thou a inesseno-er of peace, A l)ea('on light to men. Press on, you have the class's hope, Be brave and watch vour course ; Success is on ahead and you Shall gain the wished for shores. Should I fail, not skilled in writing, Best adrise here to produce; From the world's great pictures view it, Put it to the best of use. PART 11. Children's Cornei'. CHTLDREN'S COHNER, Cliiklreii's Corner. •« Little Children Love One Another." Bille. I wish that I had the power To dedicate this chapter, There's not a sino^le hour, My soul it don't enrapture. I wish I knew just what to say, To introduce this part ; Its on my mind both night and day, It penetrates my heart. * * * I wish I had the children here. Well, then I couldn't write; My mind would be in such a cheer. My heart in such a flight — That I would not believe my eyes, That I was not in Paradise. CHILDREN'S KISSES. 139 Children's Kisses. I John, 3:7. Sometimes we kiss for passion's sake, Sometimes we kiss through love; Sometimes we kiss and make mistakes, Our kisses should be gloved. We never know when lips impart, If it is false or true; But if its from the children's heart, Just rest assured its pure. We ne'er have thoughts unsatisfied, Which children's kisses bring; No tearful eyes for hope denied. Nor taste of bitter things. We ne'er have sense of fallen pride. No reason for resentment ; No thoughts of wicked Lethe's tide, The child's kiss brings contentment. The hope of endless better things, The kiss of children wakes, And stirs our hearts, till conscience sings And hearts with gladness break. If all the kisses on the earth. Were pure as little children's. And I could get my conscience's worth, My kisses would be millions. THE SINGING OF BIRDS. 141 '' The Time of the Singing of Birds is Come." Solomon's Song, 2:12. 1 sought the sanctum of a bird, I wanted information ; I simply asked for just one word, To help in dedication. Chirped the birdie, "Its an honor. If it is for the children ; For their holy, sacred corner, I'll give vou half a million." "Little sisters, little brothers, I've a message from above; Told to me to tell to others, Its a heart brim full of love." "While time is fresh and hope is new. While youth is lingering nigh. Keep noble things Avithin thy view. Look up toward the sky." "I often think how the angels Arc near us both night and day. Let us prevent evil passions. From driving them far away." 142 HEART THIEVES. *' Just like dear, good little children, Let's try to obedient stay, Of the sins and strifes of this world. And we'll hear what angels say." Heart Thieves. I John, 3:18. There is a band of little thieves, That often 'round me dart, And like the wind that takes the leaves, They steal away my heart. Sometimes they catch me unaw^ares, And e'er I get my breath. The heart is gone, I know not where. But still I'm not bereft. Sometimes they come when both my eyes, Are fixed upon them straight. And all at once to my surprise. The precious heart they take. Sometimes they come in regiuients, By tens, by fives, by tw^os. And sometimes even onh^ one. But vet the heart is due. HEART THIE VES. 143 No matter when or how they come, Though I know they :ire thieves. The heart's door is always open, And gladly does receiye. And if they fail to steal my heart, The heart is sadly grieyed; And nothing sare those little rogues, Such sadness can relieve . Sometimes at home, sometimes at school. Sometimes upon the street ; No matter where, it is the rule, The heart gives them a greet. Sometimes it catches one of them. And when its not amiss. The heart turns thief itself — what then? It quickly steals a kiss. And when the heart is «o bereft. O'er wicked ways of men. It receives new streno^th from thethouo^ht ''These little ones don't sin." And all the influence that I have. Which to these thieves is given. Is pointing out the way that leads Their little souls to heaven. 44 HEART THIEVES. They take the heart at early dawn Way off to Paradise, And show it to the blood-bought throne. Around the living Christ. They take the heart at sultry noon, Into a cooling breeze, Where all of life's hardships nisike room For what we eall "heartsease," They take the heart at eventide. When daily toil is ended ; They take it where the stars abide And have its tissues mended. And when the heart lays down to sleep. While in a pensive dream. These little thieves around it creep. And makes the rest serene. They take the heart at dark midnight. And wander far away. Into the land of })ure delight. Where midnight is as day. Ma^ friends, I guess 3 ou know by now, Who these thieves are in part; The Savior loves the little rogues. The children steal my heart. (jOD sl:e^s. 145 God Hees. When I r'hse at early morn. Need I fear of any harm — God sees. When I run about and play, If I 'tempt to iTo astray — (lod sees. When my mama whispers low. *'Baby you do so and so'' — God sees. If I disobey her rule, Or if I am rude at school — God sees. If I do the thing that's right, Whether it be day or night — God sees. If I do a thing that's wrong. Even though [ hide it long — God sees. When I'm through with all the day And I kneel at night to pray — God sees. lu 146 CHILDREN AND MOTHER. After I am gone to bed, If I cover up my head — God sees. Even when I'm sound asleep, While the angels 'round me ereep- God sees. 80 you see I never fear, God's protection's ever near — God sees. Children and Mother. I John, 1:4. Isn't it noble children dear. To have a mother's roice to hear, A mother to honor und to love, And watch that you the right way rove? Once 'pon a time, I was a child. And I enjoyed a mother's smile, Since she's gone to a happy home, I have felt at times all alone. But your influence now I feel Gently across my senses steal. And undetined, resistless spells, Bring to me thoughts I cannot tell. CHILDREN AND MOTHER. 147 I feel her breath upon \\\y cheek, And from your letters hear her speak. Seraphic sounds, more sweetly dear, Than when from her they met my ear. Dreams of you, dear childi-en, keep Your vigils 'round me while I sleep, And wiping oft' the sorrowing tears, Brino^ back the thouorhts of other years. Bright are the joys your spells create, They place our minds in happy state. For music's charm is weak and faint. To that which children's love can paint. But now I will not take your time, For thou art mine, and mine are thine; Thine by creation's mystic skill, Which formed and doth sustain us still. Thine by the more endearing love, Which sent a Savior from above, Our souls to save, our lives to bless With hopes of untold happiness. 148 >.LV7'J rA.ir.s. Santa Clans on New Years Eve. Il seems to me iliat nil < f xiiuis h:i(l liciie. Andtlie new venr would he in the eoiniiiir morn, And it seems to me *tw;i-< SantnCIausthatsaid : N,LV7'.I ('/.MS. 149 »' 1 know that the children are safely in bed, I'll just leave my reindeer and slily steal out, Andtakeagoodpeep at thegifts strewn about." Thetirst place he went todweltsixrecklessbojs, And in a sad plight did he tind all their toys, The drums, it was awful, each one of the six. Was riddled with holes —there was not a drum stick, A dog with his tail gone, a horse with no head, A wagon wheel tied to the wagon with thread. And Santa Clans, you know he felt awful bad. He stood there and lo()kcocke -eyekss, with feathers pulled out. Reposed on a bed with its tongU'C in a pout. The tea sets so scattered that Santa Claus said: *• I feel verv sick— I'll go honie ^-ind to bed," 150 SANTA GLAUS. But some one then usked him to sit in a chair, And things were explained to him while he was there. They told him that toys wrecked and broken but rise To take on nevv value in little folk's eyes, Those drums — 'twas a pity — it can't be denied, The boys lonired to see all the noises inside; The boys found out that they were hollow, no doubt. We all pay ))iiJr prices some things to find out, So, Santa, don't [>hin any venoeance next year. These toys, worn and broken, are none the less dear. And Santa, all children are not that way, For some have their toys onthe next xmas day. Then Santa said: *'Yes, I'd forgot childish days, I now feel hop'd up, you've explained childish plays.' Then Santa C'laus was asked to give them a speech, And this is the way thattheoldmandid ))reach. SAKTA CLAUS. 151 *' We can hear the muffled tread of noiseless years, And they bear the stream of both our smiles and tears, They are loaded down with hopes and dreams sublime, As they come stealing up the scope of time. We are near the threshold of the open door, We are treading: where we' re never trod before And our days are on a loom and their chimes, And their warp and woof are past and future times. We are near where the old year is at an end. And we know that the new will soon begin. The year that is leaving may be blotted, But the new one is clear, its page unspotted. Let us make each day a record page clear, Then we'll have a clean volume for the year. Let us grasp now the key of inspiration, And wind our lives with new determination. That through the year now coming clear and bright, WeNI trust in God and advocate for right.'' Then Santa Claus, he nicely bowed his head. And said the thought of speaking he did dread. 152 .1 rHAT WTTIT THE BOYS, A Chat With the Boys. I've heoii a boy myself. And with boy.s I play, But Tin for solemn chat \^'ith the hoys today. ^'ou are just in prime, boys. Life is on ahead. Its resj>onsibirrties Never learn to dretid. Never h>ok behind, boys, Tp and on's the way : Time (^nous>h to look back On some future day, Thouii'h the way \h* lontr, bo\s> Fiiiht il with a will : Never stop tf> look behind When clindHn*!' fip :» idIL Fir.^t be s^ifre you'i-e riefht . boy.«*. Then with ecKira^'e stron«r St rap vt>ur (feti'innrinrstion.* And m<>>-e riiiht alnna. Voir arc not always l)oy,«*^ Soitsc day yoi^t'll €)e men* P)Ut Ufnv is the time, boy^ For Noa to bruin „ tn: KNOWETH AND LOVfJ/'f/ VoC. ]:/A When voii're near thi' top, boy.^. Of the rugged \\M\ , Do not stop to look iiroiuid< But climb, climb away. Shoot above the crowd, boys, Brace yourself and go. When you meet obstacles Strike them with a blow. Success is at the top, boys, Waiting there Until Brain, .md pluck, and self respect. Have mounted up the hilh He Kiiowetli niid Loveth Voii* Can you count the stars that glimmer In the azure of the ^ky'f Do vou know how many cloudlet^ 0"er the world go fleeting l)y V iiod, the Lord, has each one nund>ered. Not a star or cloud ^o sn>all But His watchfid eye has noted, Uod, the Father, knows theuv alL 154 INDUSTRY IN OHTLDRJiJN. Do you know how iiijiny children From bright morn to close of day, Free from sorrow, toil and trouble. Merry hearted, laugh and play? God in heaven knows and loves them, Cares for all they say or do — Guards them in his tender keeping And he knows and loveth you. IncUislry in Children. Proverb 22:6. There's enough, dear children, To do in the house. To keep you as busy As H little mouse. There's enough, dear children, To do all about, And if you will try, you will Soon find it out. There's enough, dear children, To do anywhere, So hurry around and Do vour full share. INblsmr IN (iHtLDR^N. 155 And children, whatever you Do, do it well, People always, in looking it Over, can tell. If mama and papa desire You should work, Go at it cheerfully, don't Grow up a shirk. When you are out with your Playmates at play, Make it as merry as Bird songs in May, And when you grow up to be Women and men, YouMl know how to overcome Kvil and sin. The future, the future just Over the way, Is patiently looking for A better day. Its hano^ino^, dear children, Upon your hand, And i(< ready to march At vour command. I5<{ r ir.i77r>.V".s i:M>lS(i> Tht reforc vou :iie soldiels, ('a|)tiuiis and oiiards. Lead voiir playiiiates and be Led hv M)ur (iod. Vaeatioirs Ending. I John, 5:21. heal* (hildien, the hour is near, Look "round in every nook, And oet your >slate and pencil, And find that absent l)ook. ^Fhe suininei's sun is sinkinj>- The nights are oettini*' eool, N'acat ion's disjippearino-. It's abnost time foi- sclux)!. A few mole days, then Mondax 1 You'll Ijeal' the IMnoiuo- bells,. Then yoU will all be cominif \*a<\ation news to telL Vou ha\-e had lots of play time, Lots of reel-eat ioh i ^rake hold of youi* studies now \\ ith new deteVminatioUv It's verv iirand. dear cliiMrcn, Tliat \(Hi can u'o to school. Study well each lesson and Obey your teacher's rule. A dear little girl is she. AVho likes to go to seliool ; A very naughty boy is he. Who daily breaks the rule. You'll have by day and by night. Mania and teacher say : "Be good uiy child, do things right, And thorough be always." These words on my ear doth fall, And these words I must tell : "Whatever is done at all, Is worth the doing well.'" Love your mother and your teacher, Love your instruction too, Love your (lod who rules above. And to vourself be true. ins TELEPHONE To HE A YEN. Telephone to Heaven. A little child with her aunty came Into a certain store, But the merchant was busy waiting On those who came before ; The child asked many questions and her Aunty vvould reply : *' That's so and so. You must be quiet," And then she'd orive a sigh. "Well, aunty, wat is dat nittle box wid All dem strings tummin down?" ** Why, baby, that'sa telephone where they Talk all over town." ** I want to talk dat telephone," "No Darling, not today." "Well, net dat man tum talk for me I tell him w^at to say." The merchant overheard all this and With a pleasant smile. He thought within himself what he Would say to please the child. And the child had concentrated All its thoughts upon the 'phone, 'Till the merchant and the woman And the child were all alone. TELEPHONE TO HE A VEN. 159 **Now I can wait on baby," the Smiling merchant said, As he stooped and softly toyed with The curly little head. *'I want oo to tall up mama," came The answer full and free, '* Wif zo telephone and ast her when She's tummin back to me." '*Tell her I so lonesome 'at I don't know What to do, And papa cries so much I dess he must Be lonesome too. Tell her to tum dis eve'ing, tause at night I dit so fraid, Wif no mama here to take me when the Night dins to fade. And ebry day I want her, for my Dolly's dot so tored. From the awful punchen buddy give it Wif his little sword. And aint no body to fix it since Mama went away. And poor little lonesome kittie's ditten Thinner every day." 16) HXChJLSKlli. '• Sweet child." * the iiKM-cliant nmnnured ;i.s Me touched its jinxious l)r()\v. There's no telephone connection wliere ^'our ninin.Ms livinii" now." •*Ainl no telephone in heaven?" and Tears came to her eyes. *'l fouiilit dat God had evert liing wif Him up in the skies." The woman with a heavv sigh, and Child walked out the door. And the merchant he was puzzled as He'd never been before. And he said, I'll ever strive to nuike Myself a telephone. Through which the little children can All *'know as thev are known." Excelsior. To the iiu'inorv of Alnia. a little niece, boru JSeptenil er 12th, 1888, died May 80th, 1891. An angel.) Rev. 2i:ii. 19:1. 'Twas in the bleak September, The Howers were gone : AN'hen our lo\ ing Hower. Dear Alma was born. EXCELSIOR. 1^^ The flowers came and went, And came and left once more; But when they came again, Alma thought she'd go. I asked myself the question, *'Why take one so dear?" Spoke my heart full sadly, *'The answer is not here." God hath his mysteries. Ways that we cannot tell; He hides them deep like a sleep. Of them he loves so well. She had played, and needed A little wayside rest; Could she have found a better place Than her dear Savior's breast? Her earthly mission was love To and from ev'ry one, She's gone to be rewarded. In lands beyond the sun. Sleep on, precious Alma, Take your eternal rest, Mama and papa' re coming To take vou to their breast. 11 162 WHERE ARE THE BOYS? Weep not beloved parents, The Lord, He knovveth best. Your child's not dead but sleeping In God's angelic nest. She was radiant in beauty, Perfect, glorious, bright, God wanted her for a setting In His crown of lio^ht. When the dead now sleep in Jesus, Rise in forms that are fair. Then shall we meet our jewel. Our treasure rich and rare. Our diamond, sapphire, our ruby, Our dear little opal of love, Our pearl, most precious jewel. We'll meet her in heaven above. Where are the Boys. A question I would like to ask, To answer it may be a task. But the thought cannot be masked, Where are the bovs? WHERE ARE THE BOV^f 163 Congregations' service of song, Thou who workest against all wrong, Canst thou help us find the throng? Where the boys are? Young People's Club at Baptist church. Thou who for the boys doeth much, Canst thou answer for us on such? Where are the boys? Ep worth League at Wesley chapel. Thou who for the boys doth battle. Canst thou just one answer grapple ? Where are the boys? These reply to us in sadness, We throw out our wings in gladness, But the boys go by in sadness, No boys are here. Pastors, while at morning service, Telling men of God's own mercies. Baffling all these earthly curses. Where are the boys? Pastors reply with saddened heart, The true answer we cannot start. When the truth we try to impart, No bovs are there. 164 WHERE ARE THE BOYS? Mothers ! thou who hjist all power, To begin these human towers, Canst thou tell at this late hour, Where the boys are? Mothers with the fashions and styles. Have not time to lose with the child. Hence the answer comes with a smile, The boy's all right. At half past nine o'clock at night, Up and down the streets in a flight. Some at play and others in lights, There are the boys. On the corners they congregate, In wicked oaths they conversate, With a cigarette puff they state, We are not boys. Thus they are moving down life's stream, Grasping all things low and mean. Soon we will hear a mother scream Where is my boy? This is the way they get their start. The county farms will get their i)art. Then we hear mother's broken heart. Where is my bov? WHERE ARE THE BOYS? 165 Then they wish time in its flight Could make him a child for one night, O ! on what a different plight, They'd start their boy. Too late, too late, will come the cry, Neglected days have hastened by. Hence we will hear both sobs and sighs — Where is my boy? In the year of nineteen ten, There'll be a mighty call for men, What can we give as answer then? Where were the boys? The nation's cancer makes adust. And moral virtue calls out thus, Mothers, thou who hast all the trust, Where are the boys? Mothers ! You have power to save, Down life's long stream you start the wave. Mothers! keep notour minds enslaved. Where are the bovs ? 166 CHILDREN'S DAY. Children's Day. 1 John, 4: 4. Children, when you read that sweet story of old, When Jesus was here anionor men, How he called little children as lambs to his fold, Wouldn'tyou liked to have been with him then? Thougrh vou could not see His kind look when he spoke, You can only read the story You are greater today while under his yoke, Than all of Solomon's g-lory. Though before our time death frost came to lie Upon his warm and mighty heart, And it quenched His bold and tender eye. His spirit did not all depart. That spirit now from thousands of pens. Is thrown upon the lucid page, It^s moving, it shakes the heart of men. In this golden, yet sinful age. It's showing the children how to go. To witness a part of His love. And if we will seek Him here below, We will see Him and hear Him above. CHFLDREN'S BAY, 167 He's gone away, only to prepare, For those whose sins are forgiven, And many children have gathered there, For such is the kingdom of Heaven. Come, look in my eyes little children. And tell me through all the long day, Have you thought of your God and your Savior, Who keepeth from sin all your ways? When you go to rest little children. Right over your innocent sleep, Unseen by your vision. His angels Their watch through the darkness doth keep. They hearcth e'en the cry of the sparrows. They careth for great and for small ; In life and in death, little children. Their love is the truest of all. Then we'll pray that the love which guideth, The lambs that they loveth so well, May lead you that in life's bright morning, Beside the still waters you'll dwell. Since there's a world that's beyond the grave, And children are all hastening there; While you are in your youthful strength, Incline your dear hearts to prayer. 168 CHTLDRPJN'S DAY. Put your trust not in this world, children, Which has for you thousands of charms, Though they catch the fancy a moment, To the soul they all doeth harm. We are faced by sinful influences, But our Savior was crucified ; For your sins and my sins dear children, He suffered. He languished. He died. But He went and buried His sorrows. Knowing that we all had our share; And He opened a crystal fountain, And bid children enter there. You chiklren were made for life's battle, And God's sword is girt on your thigh; And the purpose of God is overthrown. If you only linger and sigh. For our lives are coinages of heaven, To be spent in a coinage of love ; 'Till all the realms of earth below, Are as pure as the realms above. We are strangers, we are pilgrims, But Christ our eternal brother. Whispers from out His blood-bought throne, "Little children, love one another." THE Sfh'PLE RKASOX. US) I wish that >our thoucjhts so heavenly were, And your hearts to Christ so given; That all our toils, our love, our care, Might lead us nearer to heaven. Were it in my power dear children, To set all of sin's pinions free; Your paths should be paved more smoothly, Throughout time to eternity. Let us all try-daily to forge a key, To open the gates of heaven, If we make that ke}^ the hearts of men, The bolt will be backward driven. The Simple Reason. Ill John, 1:4. The sweet month of May was drawins^ to a close, The month of hope and promise, of leaves And sunshine that clothes the earth With smiles, but fills many hearts with tears, By calling the victims of consumption to its Green gloom. It was the evening of the Holy Sabbath. The public ^vorship was near Over, and never since has my heart been So de3})ly touched a>^ by the songs they sang. 170 THE SIMPLE nEASON. The children's voices sounded above all others, They were singing, sweetly singing, It was a lovely Sabbath day, And the evenincr air was ringing:. About the little child. Angel May. They sang of her stately sadness, Hqw 'twas whispered in heaven afar, How she asked the watchuian one favor. To set the beautiful gates ajar, *'Only a little, I pray thee. Set the beautiful gates ajar." *'I can hear my mother weeping," Said the child in a trembling tone, Feeling that heaven she couldn't enjoy. With mother on earth alone, She felt that when the gate was closed, Her mother couldn't see her so far; So she cried, "O angel give me the key, And I'll set the gate ajar. Only a little I pray thee. Set the beautiful gate ajar." The warden knew not a mother's worth, Hence could not feel for the child, And prompted by heavenly duty, He answered her with a smile. THE SIMPLE REASON. 171 And when the child impressed it, Speaking of mother afar, The warden answered '*I dare not Set the beautiful gates ajar," In a low calm way I dare not, **Set the beautiful gate ajar." Then up rose Mary the blessed. The mother of the Savior of men. Who knew the child's young feelings, Who had motherly feelings within, She laid her hand on the angel, Whose feelings were just at par. The warden, seeing her ex{)ression, Set the beautiful gate ajar — Just for the sake of the mother, Set the beautiful gate ajar. Turned was the key in the portal. Fell rinofinor the orolden bar. And, lo, in the little child's fingers. Stood the beautiful gate ajar. With exultation I was about to rise when A stir was made, and a man rose whom I can never forget. He was an old man Upon whose frame the years of a Centurv had left their traces ; while 172 riiE sryfPLE reason. As snow his white beard hungr upon his Breast ; and although the lower part of his Face was sunken by extreme age, his eyes Beamed with a fadeless benevolence and his Brow had scarcely a wrinkle. They told me Afterward, that he was the most loved Companion of Christ and in sweetness of tem- Per most like the children. Unable to support himself, he was carried Forward in the arms of his friends to the Little rostrum at the end of the room. All rose to greet him, and even little children Looking up into his face with affectionate Joy, as he whispered *' Bless the children." Having reached the stand, he attempted to Speak, but failing, sunk into the arms Of friends. Eyes swam in tears. Hearts melted in sorrow. After a little, he revived. They raised Him up again. He looked around like a Father taking his last farewell, then Stretched forth his hands above the group, And, while tears ran down his cheeks. He cried with tremulous voice, "Little children love one another.'* THE ISIMFLK liEA.SON. 173 He could say no more. It was his last Sermon. He looked around upom them again With a smile of divine sweetness and His lips moved, but we heard nothing. His Eyes fell upon me and with a feeble gesture He beckoned me to him and seemed to read My countenance. *'Sir," said 1, "You and The children almost persuadest me to Be a Christian. You are fixing to Leave me. The children will be with me, We are to battle life for each other. I Pray thee leave me thy grace." Grasping my hand he said, "I leave You seven words, give them to the Children, they are Faith, Hoj^e, Charity, Peace, Joy, Truth and Love." *' Father," said I, "can't you tell me what is faith?" He whispered distinctly — "Faith is that which vou see descendinoj Down from the realms of celestial light, Something that's on the cross depending Guidincr children throuiJ:h this life ario^ht." o >r o And what is hope? " Hope has a sight which nerves the weary. And all of its brightness in luster shines, 174 THE tsiMPLK REASON. It lights the path when nil life seems dreary, It cheers when all our strength declines." And what is charity? * * Charity comes in and helps soothe the dying, Its ears are open to the orphan's wail, It hears the voice of the homeless crying, It feeds the hungry and protects the frail." And what is pea<3e? ''Peace is a calm, meek, tender glory, That fills our souls vrith the pride of life, It helps the > outh and the age when hoary. It is free from passion, from war, and strife." And what is joy? Joy comes pure as a fragrant flower. Its blossoms are scattered along life's stream, It cheers the heart in its youthful hours. And lulls men's cares like a merry dream." And what is truth ? "Truth comes in a majestic splendor. And its light shines in all honest souls, It makes men just, in their nature tender. It gives all strength to character it holds." I will not ask you what is love, for I belicTc That is a combination of these six. The mortal spasm now grasped him. Once More he spake, but it was with the energy THFj simple reason. 175 Of strong health, " Even so, Lord Jesus take Me" — he was asleep in death. I Turned to leave and A poor wayfaring man of grief Was standing by my side, Who sued my conscience for relief. His wounded side I eyed. He uttered not ii single word, But showed his nail'd print hand; He saw my heart was so bestir' d. He said '*You understand." He said *'go to some mountain. And call the children near; You dip them in a fountain, And teach their heart to fear." He then left me. I am now a Christian. Children I have many things to Tell you, and through grace I intend To tell them yet. A week passed and one of the blandest Mornings in June that ever the sun rose Upon, I visited his library and found On a tablet these words: *' Jesus is very Precious to my soul, my all in all, and I Expect to be saved by free grace through His atoning blood. This is my testimony." 176 THE .SIMPLE REASON. I left the room resolving within Myself to make his testimony my Testimony and to Love the children just as he did, Who for love once sweetly pleaded; Trust and guide, and never doubt Build a wall of love about. But I've always loved the jewels, Always thought that it was cruel, To efface their youthful beauty It has been a life-time duty. Yes, I love them, I remeniber, May is not like cold December. If I've words of rage and mad ii ess. Always check it from their gladness. When my heart is filled with kindness, And to evil shows its blindness; Then it's time to turn my whole heart Into the porte called children's mart. When I'm thinking of my Savior, When Fm seeking good behavior; When I look for earthly angels, Then I with the children mingle. THE SIMPLE REASON. 1^7 When the general roll is thunder'd, If among the saints I'm nuinber'd, I will search that place of honor, "Till I find the children's corner. "And now little children, abide in hiin; that, when he shall appear, we may have con- fidence, and not be ashamed before him at his ■I John, 2:2.s. 1% PART III. Ajax' Ordeals on Lynching. 180 AJAX' DREAM. Ajax' Dream. Ajjix of the Southlaiul W:i8 wtlkiiiiT out one day. Enraptured did his spirit seem, Inspired by some poetie theme. Or heavenly array. His iraze was runniiiir forward, When sudden toward the sky, A huz/ard rose upon his winirs. From off a dark and irhastly thing Whi( h startled Ajax' eyes. .\ hideous corpse he notieed. He shudders, standinii' tiiere — Hi- spirit feels a sharj) recoil. From that which taints the ail- and soil From lack of burial care. The lynchers had been there And killed a Negro man : They would not let his kindred come. Nor even friends his corpse entomb. But left it on the sand. A. J AX' lUiKAM. 181 He almost turns tt) loave it — Hut 8to}>s mikI turns again. That oar<*ass there was <)n<'0 the home Of some sad soul now doomey f()otstej>s near. The kangaroo Hed wildly, Crvino* in distressing fear. And I heard a wild mate roaiinir. As the shadows of night came on. To snoose in the brush l)eside mf. And the thoughts of my sleep were gone. Then I roused myself from slumber And sprang to my trembling feet. Anxious for some one to soothe me, I wandered my mate lo greet. We gras])ed each other on meeting, And rolled upon the sand, And tried our best to kill each other — How powerful he wiis and grand. Then with all his might he seized me, With a wild, triumphant cry, That sounded like the lynchers' yell. And the Negro's wail and sigh. We grappled and worried together. For we both had rage that was rude, And his teeth as they sank into my flesh, Drew forth the lynch-escaped blood. But I had courage to tight him, For we were but foe to foe. While the lynchers come by hundreds. To defend we have no show. 186 AJAX- VniGHT. Other wild beasts were vicious, The lion and the grizzly bear Fought for nie in the moonlight, While I lav crouching there. Then down to the river we loitered, M^here the young fawns came to drink, And my beast friends sprang upon them, Ere they had time to shrink. The wild beast in the jungles. Had tenderer, softer hearts. Than America's Anglo-Saxon, In civilized Christian marts; Would that I had the power To touch the hearts of men, And with the aid of wild beast Keveal this wretched sin. Ajax' Frig^ht. There's a dreadful horror 'bout me, That nothing drives away ; It's with me in my night dreams, It's with me everv dav. AJAX- FRIOIIT. 187 It makes the night appear so short, The bed is hard and cold ; It makes the days appear so long To both the young and old. Must I arise from out my bed, And start my daily work? The lynchers, just for meanness, will My head from body jerk. To die like a man by gun or shield, Such a death I do not fear ; No other death 'Id be worst to feel, Than to leave my loved ones here. But fear of being lynched for naught Makes all one's senses start; To be chased by hounds and hell-hounds Draws pangs to bleeding hearts. I hear the hell-hounds yelping. They're coming 'cross the plain; With bloodshot eyes and gnashing teeth, For blood of a Negro's veins. I've never harmed a white man. They can't be after me; But oh ! when they're blood thirsty, Innocence is no plea. 188 AJ.W" s(>/://jQ(y. Thero's stirrino- in my Imck yard. There's fuinl)lino" under my floor (treat (lod they seem to smell me! The Iviu'hers are at mv door! Ajax' Soliloquy. Riches, which onee I held in light esteem, And ins|)ired me — now I lauirh to scorn: And lust of fame which was an ideal dream, Has vanished fiom me with the morn. When in my solitary room I sit, And try to see where life presents a bloom; Not one fair dream before my mind's eye flits, But hateful thoughts enwnip my soul in gloom. My heart aches, instead of night rest, mj dreams Are anxious, that a cup filled up with drugs For me to drink, and leave the world unseen. And cro and be a feast to hunorrv bugs. Would I could fade, dissolve, go and forget That I upon the earth was ever known. For all these crimes, the fever and the fret, All we can do is hear each other orroan. .1/-LV F{INDRB:D\S SOLrrj)Q{'Y. 189 There it? something i)ainful and .sad to see, 'Twould shock the red nian looking for -a scalp : A human body hanging from a tree, A white mtm's victim thut had been entrap'd. I often pray, but the only touching prayer. That from my heart doth move my lips for me. Is, '*You nuiy have the heart that now I bear. But give mv mind and body liberty." O spirit, () si)irit of the other land. Turn here your voice and in a whisper say: *'() Ajax ! () Ajax ! come from that stand, And dwell with me in a brighter d;ty." I'm pond'ring. Fm wond'ring. I'm thinking. If this world intends to ever get right: It's reeling, it's shaking, it's sinking. Let my soul join the blue bird's flight. Ajax' Kindred's Soliloquy. In Africa. The t bought soft he future doth })uzzle my mind. And O how I shudder at flitting of time: It seems that it's hast'ning that dreadful day. When no where in this dull earth I can stay. The powers of Europe are taking my land. And siftinir it out at their own command. 190 AJAX' KINDRED'S SOLTLOqUY. They do not attempt to civilize me, But use all their efforts to make me Hee. Where in this broad domain cjtn I fly, My body to rest and my mind satisfy? That land called the Star Spangled Banner of free. Toward which all the nations at one time did flee, My countryman Ajax w^ho dwells over there, Kelates that which straightens my sun kinked hair, He tells me they lynch, tar and burn the Negro, And mangle them worse than the cruel Nero, He tells me to stay here and dodge the wild beast. It's easier than being the lynchers' love feast, The isles of the sea are all tilled up they say, I wish a new mountain would rise in a day ; The fox and the panther, the birds of the air, They all have a home in this world somewhere. The sun shines resplendent in its bright degree. Dame nature is pleasant, all happy but me, I long for the wings of the blue bird of flight. To flee from this plain and in mid ocean light. And there put an end to these heart-bleeding sighs. A/AX' MONUMENT. 191 And banish the tears from nij long weeping eyes. O God I is the time ever coming again When I can see peace in this broad domain? If not take me now in the palm of thy hand, And fling me away from this blood-shedding land. And if I don't land in thy mansions all fair, Just fling me until I am nothing but air. The lynchers, the lynchers are here by the throng ! My Savior, my Savior, O, why was I born. Ajax' Monument. When in the shadow of the tomb, My heart shall rest. Please lay me where spring flowers bloom On earth's green breast. Please never in vaulted box place My lifeless frame, For it is not the best of grace, Yes, I am sane. 19} .17.1 A" sfmo. In 8oiiie sweet village of the dead I'd like to sleej), Where flowers may deck my little bed, Where angels creep. And if the children in their roam Know not the spot: Enough if but by loTe alone, I'm not forgot. But I'm a Negro and I need Not so lament. For never did a lyncher's creed Say ** monument." My (iod, will the time ever be, When I can have Pure thoughts without the lyn< hrrs' glee To make me swear? Ajax' Soil J?. (Tune: '♦ Tenting en the Old Camp Ground.") AVe are thinking today of the loved ones lost Gone through the lynchers' hand : Of the innocent men who have gone across The })rido:e where villains stand. AJAX' SONG. 193 CHORUS. Many are the hearts that are mourning today, Mourning for the loved ones mobbed, Many are the eyes full of tears that say, Why are we left in sobs? Help us to say, "Humbly we pray, Father, is it brighter ahead?" We are hoping today that the Christian world, Will yet see the matter straight ; And will see that this question is all unfurl'd. Before time replies, "too late!" Chorus: Many are the hearts, etc. We are praying today to our God on high, To wrestle this lynching age ; To listen to the widow's and orphan's cry. That's caused by this outrage. Chorus: Many are the hearts, etc. We are weeping today but the hour will come, When the lynchers all shall see That America is the Negro's home. And here he's bound to be. Chorus: Many are the hearts, etc. 13 194 AJAX" MEDITATIONS. Ajax* Meditations. If I should die Today or tomorrow, And my soul fly, Into bliss or sorrow, Would any who never saw my face, Know that on this earth I had filled a place? If I should sail Away on some great ship, And in a gale Should end my earthly trip, Would anyone while riding o'er the waves. Remember me while in my wat'ry grave ? If I should stray, Way off in the wild woods. And be the prey To vicious wild beasthood. Would future men while lev' ling down the plain, Know that I'd ever been in this domain? If I, at home, Were quietly sleej) in bed ; And lynchers roamed, To tar and burn my head, They would prevent my friends from burying me Could future men say that I used to be? AJAX' MEDITATIONS. 19o If when I'm dead, The future children come, With joyous tread And human beating drums, Will they while either at their work or play, Remember that poor Ajax had a day? Songsters will sing, While I am dead and gone; Their echo'U ring, And thrill the living throng. Will any songs remind the living men, That poor Ajax upon the earth has been? A cent'ry hence, While boys and girls in school, Upon the bench Obey the teacher's rule, Will any book show them the deeds and acts, Of trembling, poor, despis'd, oppress'd Ajax? God hold my hand, And give me power to write, Give me com ni and, That I may say what's right. I'll write a book before I leave this land, To show the world that Ajax was a man. 196 A MOTHER'S RAGE. A Mother's Rage. Fruits of Lynching. A mother stood at the river brink Holding in her arms a dear child, 'Twas all on earth that the mother had. And she said with a sacred smile : **your father did all a man could do To live for you and for me; But the wicked lynchers murdered him. Irrespective of mother's plea." She says, *'I know whereof I speak, In the sight of these my own eyes, Your father said in a mournful tone: 'Dear wife, kiss the baby good-bye/ And that was the last I heard of him ; I knew not the lynchers' plan. The world is witness to one true fact. Thy father was an honest man. But honesty in this fast age, In regards to the dusky race Has carried many 'cross the dark stage. And brought to the whites a diss^race. If this mode of death is continued, Why should I leave you, my dear boy. To have your life blotched with such sights, Such a life you cannot enjoy ! My child, I am almost tempted now To throw thee into this river, And let thj soul go wandering back To Him who is the great forgiver. For then thy mother will be satisfied That thou art in God's tender care, For another death like thy father's Thy mother, she can never bear. And then, mv child when you have passed Beyond earth's shadows and its teachings. When Paradise is reached at last, Brought to you by the Lord's entreating. When slarry crowns shall deck your brow. And white robes to you be given. My child, you can't imagine now. How sweet 'twill be in heaven. The **many mansions" high in air W\\\ gleam with more than earthly splendor, And the shining angels, pure and fair, Will greet you with a love most tender; Your head in grief shall never bow But rapturous joy'll to you be given, My child, you can't imagine now How sweet 'twill be in heaven. 19g AJAX' ^ASHmiNmS. But oh ? my ebiTd my heart repine^^ Haw horrible waald be the oruilt WheD In after yetirs it con>e» to nifnd That your blood was by mother spilt ; My child, I can-not bear to think Of throwing thee into the tide ; But ohy the lynchers I the lynchers I The m-oiher faioted and died. Ajax^ BashfuTness^ I wa& once out of social eircles^ As bashful as- a young nmn could he^ And I wondered if all society Could ntake a socialist of m^", I wandered on in^ my ba&hfuTnes^», Nothing socially good 9 AJAX AT THE CENTENNIAL. You take the thousand oppressions, That are hurled into our face; And change them to progression, Then we will be a race. My sir, it is a well-known fact, That the Negroes' aim is high, And if they'll stop holding him back. He'll reach them unless he dies. He's in the national government, He's been a military man; And in these United States, He's been surveyor of lands. He's widely known in medicine. He's faced millions as teacher; Thundered his eloquence at the bar, He can't be excelled as preacher. And in hundreds of newspapers. He tones up ideas and thoughts; In connection with his people. To show what they have wrought. As for a Southern laboring man. His equal cannot be found; And to find a regular Negro tramp. You must search the country 'round 210 A/ AX A I' run: CENTENNIAL. In scliolai'islii}) he's stood the test. In the institute's at home; And 'cross the sea — without a jest. His elo(juence is known. He's writina' i)oetrv books and ])rose, To scatter over the land; To show the depth from which he 'rose. The height where now he stands. A hundred thousand students now. Behind the study desk ; Have iix'd a frown ui)on their brow. They will not be o])pressed. I think I see the coming tinu', When this curs'd lynching land: Will see the Negro's worth sul)lime, And claim him as a man. And my dear sir, tifty years hence, When your grandchildren stand; Ajax grandchildren's recompense, V\'ill show an c(|ual man. A hundred years from now my friend. Could you and I [)cep back ; We cannot tell \our children then. From those of poor Ajax. AJAX' APPEAL TO AMERICA. 211 Ajax' Appeal to America. My country, noble spectre of the past; Along thy rivers, and within thy vales, There breathes a deep-toned voice, that tells of days, When thou wert called the country of the free — Admired and frequented; when pilgrim'd hosts Trod thy sanctomed shores, and music filled The air with freedom. Broad hearts of men Were thine, in bonds of union; and around, The voice of love and happiness arose. Voluptuous life enkindled every heart — But as time moved on in silence, A dreadful change took place. The great Abe. Lincoln wept, he saw the wreck That slavery scattered 'round him — and he mourned To think that scenes so bright should fade so soon. Thou wast a marvelous country, ere the star That lit the way to Bethlehem, gleamed the east, And heralded a Savior — and perha[)s. Thy shores resounded with the hum of men. When Ajax on the Afric shores did live. 212 A J AX' APPI'JAL TO AMERICA. Thou wjist a brilliant niv«tery- and from far, The nations of the earth poured into thee. Thou prospered well, now four wars, Stamped upon thy flag, but these four wars, And four times four large wars of ancient times, Could not shed blood enough to cover up The principle that underlies the greatest Of all wars, that's wagedby thee 'gainst thine, Andthoucould'st with one stroke exterminate. Thou claimes't to be a Christian country. And rankest with highly civilized countries. And there is nothing in the categorj' of crime, Or in the history of savages to surpass t hose- Fiendish, blood-chilling horrors perpetrated against My people by your Christians. The southern mob, When in its rage feeds its vengance by shoot- inir, Stabbing and burning men alive, which only Some disgusting birds and beasts, would do. And to })lcad "not guilty" is a waste of time, For when the mob's will has been accomplish- ed, And its thirst for blood has by its bands been (juenched. AJAX' APPEAL TO AMERICA, 213 And the victim is speechless, silent, dead, Then the mobocnitic amusers have the ear of The world all to themselves, and the world Listens to them — because thy noble govern- ment. Planted by the Pilgrim Fathers, Defended by Noble Washington and regenerated by God- sent Lincoln — Urges it on and it widens as the waters Of the Missisippi entering the great gulf. And those amusers who so bravely kill, would flee Like Phantoms if brought face to face wnth that Great law on which thy forces move. The foreigner Who looks across the sea, and never comes. Thinks thou art great, magnanimousand brave, And we have heartily hoped that this estimate. Would soon cease to be contradicted. Instead our Confidence in thy nobility as a nation has been Shaken — and the future all looks dark And troubled. This tends to dim the lustre Of thy noble name and to obliterate the Cause of liberty which thou hast sung to the world. 214 AJAX' APrhJAI. TO AM K HI ('A. Thy inonil sen.se is now on a decline and we May well ask the (juestion ^Miow low " someof Thy safe guards are swrpt away. Supreme Courts are surrendered, State sovereignity \^ Restored, Civil rights are destroyed, men are Lynched like beast of the forest. What next y P^mmigration wont save us for we are convinced That this is our native land. Neither will Colonization redeem us for we are colonized To day upon the land tliat gave us birth. Think, O America, of the sublime and glorious Truths with which, at thy birth, thou saluted A listening world. Thy voice was then the Trump of an archangel » summoning oppres- sion, And time-honored tyranny to inherit the sweet Freedom of thy shores. The oppressed Hock- ed to thee. Crowned heads trembled, toiling millions Clapped for joy. Brotherhood, equality, liber- ty, * And truth were the invitiDOf features. You redeemed the world from the bondage Of ages, was it to enslave them again? And not onlv to enslave them but slautrhter AJAX' APPEAL T(f AMKmcA. '^^^ M%)rso than the unspeaka})le Turks do The Anuenian.s, or the dread Spaniards Do the Cubans. Are the horrors of Siberia, Against the thriving- Jew to be exceeded Bv thy Christian crimes? To thee One came in hund)le guise, upon whose brow A sweet harmonious ])eace in beauty shone. Towards portals of peace, the heroic Ida Wells Reposed within thy house, and talked of right. Oh, had thy powers then but heard her voice, And trod the way she pointed, —then with thee This darkness w^ould have ended, — and this crime Which hangs about thy neck, would hang no more. But, lacking the MarJu hope that filled her breast, To cheer the ix)se-lipped nymph in her great work. She down-cast minded, but determined soul Kept a superior thought and crosse'here have you been? Hast thou forgotten me? (Falls in his arms) Ajax. No mother, dear; how could that be? Thank God we've met but near our family grave. .l./.IA" DKATU. 221 Father, ere this, is ripe in \\%q. lie was In his sixtieth year when Grant fought so. Eli. Ajax, what have you son, we perish. A.TAX. Nothing have I: big piles I had but " In this hind of lynching what ever we have We have not. The lynchers envied my Success and it was left with nie To lose my life or my earthly wealth. I took the one you see ine with here. Elt. I'm old, I'm cold, I'm hungry, I'm dying, I yield to all. Kamech. Grieve not, we shall not die of Huntjer. Before another night the lynchers Will be here. They w^ant our blood Because it is innocent blood. Lets not rei)ine. Jor.EL. Mother I'm sick, this ground is wet to me. Kaaiix'H. To see thee suffer in-the bloom of life. Thou whom I watched and cheered to See thee perish thus— O God — . 222 A J AX' DhWTIl. Job EL. Mjiiiia I'm c'old — has the bread come? Ram ECU. for the days when as ji shive I worked. Thy life woukl then be spared. Hut Lincoln Freed us. Why are we not free now? Is Lincoln yet alive, and Grant? () God Blot these remarks from my memory. ^^he weeps. A.7AX. Mother, fret not o'er thoughts like these Let us })ray (rod and wait our doom. Ram EC H. My Lord. My infant child and 1 once Thought that you were dead. But tell me IIow did you live, we waited long for Thee to come but all in vain. A.JAX. We parted — sold as mules. You With my father's owner, he in another drove. And I in a disgraceful to some one else. 1 kept up with you all, until The mighty struggle came that freed Us all and effaced your whereabouts. I started out in search of you and Prosi)erity. I lived (juite well but A J AX' BE nil. 223 Seeking higher still, !he white man Envied me, and hence my life was his When he saw fit, and eighteen years, I've wandered up a!)d down this world In search of one dear st)ot where I could Rest in peace. It must be Here to die with you. At first I fetred to land. God, this lynching world is full of sin. Ramkch. Despite our griefs, I will believe, dejir boy, That Providence hath brought thee here to me. That we mio'ht die tofrether. A. I AX. Mother what awful sights I've seen — 1 oft have wished that I had died when young. Before this dreadful calamity. My blood Don't move, my mind deranged turns, at what I've seen this day. The carcases of Men with that of oxen, sheep and hogs — Did float together down the stream. I saw two brothers take a stand for right And there they stood, until the lynchers Canu' — and made the one take the life 224 AJAX' DIiATJl. Of the other — murder his mother's son, The one who did this work to save his life Lay down exhausted. Then the lynchers took His life by slow process and left him there. The famished buzzards came to his rescue And tore the (|uiverinir flesh. In vain the num Foug-ht this new foe till breath was gone. Elt. Didst thou see this? Ajax. That is not half. Ram ECU. Then ntine it not. I've heard enough. I'm sick at heart. A.TAX. I saw — my God I cannot tell. Km. Tell on. The woes of others told to us May steel us to our own. A.TAX. I saw a barge of logs loaded down, With human beings, manacled, emaciated^ Ghastly. They sang and howled out prayers, AJAX' DEATH. 225 And curves and laughter. It was horrid. With hands outstretched, thev beckoned me To come, but I stood off and watched And heads of men were thrown at me in rage. I further noticed a partly eaten bod}' Mangled and bruised. I shrieked aloud. And then I saw a sight that captured all. A mother, deathly clad, who in her arms, Upheld a child. She cast her eyes on high, And then she cast her infant from her. It sank beneath the waves and was gone. A mother drowned her own dear child. Ramech. My God this lynching world. Ajax. Hush ? I hear the howl of dogs. Eli. My son, 'tis but the winds. No human Being in this wild place save us. And the *' Star Spangled Banner" as that say goes Doesn't wave here. Me think that song's a myth. Ajax. Again I hear the dogs. I'm not deceived. 226 AJAX' JJEATIl. Mother 1 dreamed last iiijrht I saw A mountain movinij on the waves. And it had all the semblance ot* a house, And my bewildered mind beheld unreal things. By one of the windows I saw a Gray haired man stand mute as death And by his side I saw one young in years His eyes toward hcaren turned : and then again He hid his face hehind his hands As if in sorrow. — And behold the old man Turned his back to him. Eli. That means but this — that God in heaven Has turned against us, and our doom is sealed. And I will wait my hour in silence. Fain would I curse, fain would I kill myself, Would I could die ! Already have I lived Too long — Hunger — Fear, my daily fiends ! Twelve days I've fought you bravely to be Subdued at last by thee. JOBEL. How cold it is. AJAX' DEATH. 227 Eli. Is that a human carcass floating on the water? Look Ajax, look! Ajax. The body of a lynched man. Could I But reach it, and eat once more before I die. Eli. Go get it Ajax. Thou art a swimmer. ( Ajax reaches the water and a band of lynchers rush from the bushei and grab him.) Ajax. Oh father help me ! The devil has me. The carcass had its spies. Help! Murder! Eli. ( Rushes to his son's rescue, with his silvery locks dang- ling in his face. He rushes in their midst and grasps his boy. The lynchers spear his aged body as if it was a beast.) Help, for I am stabbed. My God these Bloody lynchers — But wherefore call For help when none can aid. Ramech fare- well ! Jobel, my child farewell ! (The father and son are lynched.) Ramech. O Eli ! Ajax ! My God of heaven. (8he weeps aloud.) 3-28 AJAX' DEATH. JOBEL. Mainuia, why do you weep? Where is my Papa? Has he gone to get me some water? Ramech. My precious child. My husband and my son Are gone and the lyncher^ will surely be After you. I hear them shriek for blood. But I am nerved to die. JOBEL. Why don't my papa come? I dreamed He brought me some bread and you Dear mamma and I were in a house. Ramech. Sleep again my child, and in thy dreams Foro^et the ills of earth and reio^n on hiorh. Oh God, please Thou forgive my sins, And let me die ; but Father spare my child I He hath not sinned. Hush! the h^nchers come. They took my husband and my son. Ain't that enough? Why trouble me? I hear the howl of dogs. JOBEL. My papa won't come. O mamma — Ramech. My soul the lynchers are u[)on me ! AJAX' DEATH, 229 O precious God ! To Thee I yield my soul, Do take my helpless child. (The Lynchers rush upon her.) My child ! My own dear child ! JOBEL. Mamma it is so cold. Have you No bread for me? Where is my mamma? Mam ma — Mamma — Mamma . But during this mighty struggle with Ajax and his foes, He and one man fighting for life had drifted from the shore. And Ajax fought a brave man's light against a watery grave, Exhausted down he seized some planks adrift upon the waves. He stepped upon his rescu'd ship with clothes all dripping wet, And blood from every garment fell, his eyes the white man's met. Death had pressed him closely and precious was each second — Two hands from out the water reached, his eyes toward Ajax beckoned. 230 AJAX' DEATH. There was the bloodless pallor of a wretched drowning man With mouth all gaping, eyes bloodshot and hair on end did stand. The struggling white man exhausted from trying to kill Ajax Was fighting with water, now his strength was all relaxed, rierried**'! perish my dear sir, give me ji helping hand/' And Ajax's heart w^as melted down he drew him to a stand. And Ajax said, *' You've treated me as though I were a pup, 1 give you good for e^H— I in (4od^s name? bring you ii\y," And Ajax heard bis n>other shriek — -afar upon the shore. And tears gushed down his bleeding cheeks* *MnT God can it b« so?'' The planks were drifting further and further down the river. And Ajax turned to his shipmater ^m\ these words did deliver; **The shriek insj^ voice von bear comes from niv mother s bleedinor heart—- A J AX' DEATH. Sni It is a shrill and helpless voice, it makes hit senses start. My mother murdered, butchered and my a«^ed father slain, Their infant child is murdered to, oueht I silent remain? I'an it be true that I have saved your wretched, wicked life, While others of your prang have killed my father and his wife? You heathen of the white-skin'd tribe, you sit down there and wonder Tve robb'd grim death by saving you, your watery grave I've plundered. I've prayed to God for vengeani^e through all these drejiry years I've gathered patience from my friends relat- ing all their fears. My assailants have been many and my defend- ers few. But now we stand as man to man, sir, should I murder you? Grim death keeps secrets better than the mass of living men. The river waves will gladly take 3^ou to the fishy den. Then I could dive down in the waves and be, mvself, at i-est. 232 AJAX' DEATH. And youi- dear lynchers seeking me would vainly beat their breast, And though they are good hunters of the blood of Negro's vein, There they would follow — long and far to ne'er find my domain. Consider, as I do, sir, what the river's waves would be In contrast of the life, my j)eer, which now I give to thee. And I am now adrift, afloat in the marts of the world, And if the lynchers can catch me my soul to wind' 11 be hnrled. If all the demons of vour race could oat her 'round us now, Sir, all my pleading would not keep cold death from my hot brow. But man was made for life's battle, and some- times life is fate. To every man that breathes a breath death cometh soon or late. And how could you die better, sir, than by a hand like mine. For all my race's punishment by all yourrace'» crimes? ATAX' DEATH. 2^3 And coald I die a nobler death than facing fearful odds For vengeance of m}^ father and my mother 'neath the sod; And for those tender mothers with their babies at their breast Whose husbands died the death of dogs at your race's behest? ()! no, my mother's noble form lies not be- neath the sod, Its now a prey for buzzards' feast, you wicked wretch! My God! r hav^ bften at your mercy, sir, you tried to take my life. I have no hope of your favor, for you I have no rife. I could kill you and cast your form beneath the rolling waves But I am hunran, so ire you, I'm not to kill but save." The white man set there calm as death he ut- ter'd not a word, It seemed his frame was void of breath his soul was all bestirred. He never gave an earnest look he did not even wink. 234 .1/.4-Y" DKATtL And Ajax said, '' These circumstances do make mv conscience think. O white man I have vou any heart and did you ever sii^h, And did your senses ever start to s«e a Negro die? Consider now the torture and the cruelty on my race. Look at my mother's cruel death, her infant child effac'd. Come go with me to Texas and see those red hot irons — That hurn'd the eyes and mouths of men and made them roar like lions. And how the lynch'd men hellow'd like a cow in dee J) distress, And how the lynchers laugh'd and took it in with minds at rest. Oh ! how the men did struggle to loose the lynchers' chain. Oa I how ther hovvl'd like ruad men, their ef- forts were in vain. The guards had gone upstairs to rest, women and children came To view the scene with idle jest, and they were not ashamtd. A TAX' I) EAT IT, 285 The angels 'round the throne of God had turn'd their backs to earth, With hearts melted :4way in tears at sight of Texas mirth. This land of brutal cowards still lack the moral backbone, The moral courage, moral strength to drive a villian home. — To even lift a finger or to raise a warning cry, They stand in silent plejisure and gaze on the Negro die. And in the shadow of the church human be- ings are burned, From Sunday-schools the children rush this wickedness to learn. They gather 'round to take a smell of burning hunnin flej»h, They cheer the scene and make the spot a place of sacred mesh. For him to plead, when all the hearts his keenest prayer could probe, — Are but a breath of ether in the space around the o^lobe. It s no more than a ripple to the roarins: water- fall, It's a snow-flake in the valley to the cloud that cover*! all. 236 AJAX' DEATH. There's no protest, there's no rebuke, there's not a single cry — Fished from the pools of blood and wrong to touch the nation's eye. The world now sits in judgement and could the nations plead This land would be a criminal of the vilest kind of deeds. Could Ida Wells have raised a force to follow her crusade This dreadful crime, long ere this time in darkness would be laid. If Frances Willard and her host would help to raise the cry, Intemperate lynchings ghastly ghost would fade away and die. For when a woman makes a vow that she will do a thing She's sure to win, or else she'll make oppon- ents conscience ring. Few men of crime can stand to break a wo- man's heart, perchance. Some nations chang'd their ship of state upon a woman's glance. Fair Helen seal'd the fate of Troy and queens of ancient times Have led brave hearts in cause of truth and made the wrong decline. A J AX' BE AT II. 237 Some noble, .stalwart woiuaii have in evervtime and place. Wielded her influence, irood or bad, ui)onthe human race. If all the noble women who have a Christian heart, While sitting by the fireside would take an active part, And have a gen'ral family talk about the shi]) of state. And speak of what the states should do to have a union great- - And speak of how almight}' God was looking from the sky — Down on the doings of each one. He heard the lynch'd man's sigh, More husbands and more sons will go away from sacred homes — With purer thoughts and higher aims and of a Christian tone — 'Till ships of church and shii)s of state will all be fill' d with men With ('hristian hearts, with humane minds, with works oppos'd to sin. Then there'd be more McKinley hearts as governors of states. ^38 L/.IA" DEATH. To see that men obeyed the Ijiw.s which they theni.selves would make Then e\ 'rv irov'nor would be fit to make a president The white house then wouhl ever have a man with jjfood intent. Then lynching crimes would melt away as ic« in summer's heat, Then we could praise this ship of state, this union strontr and ii^reat. For many years my race has been a universal target, They never try to find the part that's crimson, bright and scarlet, In all of the affairs of life enormous fads have s|)ent All of their forces upon him to bring our dis- content. All those unhappy })hrases they should try to set aright, Are dwelt upon with mighty force to make as dark as night, A just investigation, to show the brighter side, Is never made by those who strive forever to deride. TheNegro's moral standard, sir, has never been as low AJAX' DKAlll. 239 As those destructive lyncher's hearts who nev- er trv to know Whether it was a criuje or not they're simply satisfied To pass their own meek judgment, they crare the Negro's hide. There's no class in America whose moral ])athway's till'd With thorns as is the Negro's and he must tread at will. American Christianity's not recognized by Him Who came to earth to die for man and give him Christian trim. Her body's broken by disease her conscience seared with crimes. A mind and soul of cruelty to caj) tht heath- en climes. And in the light of all these things itis a jmor spirit To point with Christian horror but ne'er try to prohibit. Ah! what a reckless nation, what an undiscip- lin'd child Noble, but sometimes tricky, doing somethings that are wild. 240 AJA.V DEATH. A freeman am 1, must 1 die a slave adrift at sea, Or must I live as master's doir to whimper at his plea. And must J crawl down at his feet, and must 1 lick his hands? Poor Ajax' cheeks did flush with heat he ground his teeth like sand. By Jove, by thunder, by the gods, I'd rather herd with wolves. And seek the lion's friendship and to tigers nuike my love, Then I could marshal all their strenjjth ajriiinst the cursed mob. And teach them how it felt to crive a beast a wailin«^ sob. To all my sorrows I would add those of my l)unished race, And devote myself to vengeance upon this black disgrace. And I would pray to all the gods, the gods both good and bad To lend me their special terrors to ridicule this fad. I'd ask for tempest, heat and cold, for drought, for wild beast's lair. AJAX' DEATH. 241 And all tho poison of the Uad that meD let loose in air — And all the thousand other things that quickly put to sleep— Of which men die on sea and land, my God! why should I weep? My feelings are not vagary as a sensitive lad But reas'ning of suffering manhood to give endurance sad. Every age has its sorrows and O, the ills of time, No parallel in human life to match this lynch- ing clime, My spirit never goes to sleep I cannot rest at night, A dog remembers, long, a wrong, he knows a friend at sight. I have a book of great events, I'll write this voyage down That men may know what I have seen and try its depths to sound. My mother, father all are gone and I in this wild wood, My wife and child sev'r'd from me, all gone but my manhood. I never hope to tind them now amid my anx- ious fears 242 AJAX' DEATH. As "Ben Hur" found his jewels after eight long grieving years. He found his precious mother and his sister with disease From out a wicked duno^eon he brought them to release. But dungeons where the lynchers place the prison'd corpse of man The buzzard saihng in the air has all at his command. O white man! Can't I probe from you a single, tender sob ? And won't you help me pray one prayer to your Almighty God ? "O God! give me a little faith and into my darkness — That's deeper darkening every day, O send n light of rest. All hopes deal with the future Lord, I hope for better days , And while I'm drifting down the tide, guide me the right of way." Laurels of this world may be sweet but they soon pass away. We have no laurels as a race, are they in com- ing days? AJAX' DEATH. 243 Like those colossal tombs of old on drifting desert sands They cast shadows 'cross the cent'ries then crumble to the land. This country in a prosperous stage will yet come to a halt, And see the depths of this outrage and remedy the fault. When time lies down fore'er to sleep at eter- nity's feet, And vanities, pomps, more creep upon the stage so sweet — And stars of heaven have all gone out of their ethereal home The eternal hand, unseen by us across this land will roam." * * * * The evening shade was gathering now, the surging waters roll'd, And Ajax felt the cool night wind, it seemed to fan his soul. Unruly winds began to cease and zephyr's breezes rose The lotus plant from water's depths before his gaze reposed. The solemn river loiter' d on its way quite un- concerned. 244 A J AX' DEATH. The palm trees shook their nodding heads and stoop' d to greet the fern. The Jackall slipping on the bank kmew Ajax' skin was black He snapp'd his teeth he thought t'waslaw his Heshless bones to crack: The guiding stars began to show, the diy went into night And like a phantom ship at sea they drifted out of sight. The planks, call'd ship on which they rode, went cahnlj down the river — And no one knows unto this day which was the longest liver. Did Ajax kill the white man? O no, his heart was tender I Did white man kill poor Ajax? his heart was rash as timber ! Did both of them drift to the gulf and make a feast for whales ; Did both of them escape and shall we jot hear both their talcs? If poor Ajax is yet alive and dwells upon the land, He'll write a book to sht^k© this world ind makt men understand. DoDiinu!^ Vob.ucum. 246 CONTENTS. CONTENTS. At My Mother's Grave, - - - - . 9 A Ilumaa Artist, - . . . . . \\^ Alone with Jesus, ... ... io4 Best Things in the World, - - - - 77 Cain and Abel, - - - . . . 35 Christmas Gift, 127 Class Valedictorian, . . . . . 133 Consolation, - - - - ... 31 Deception, - --.... 88 Dedication, - ... . . 3 Douglass Dead, - - - - - - 41 Fashion, - ... . . 108 Fixed Love, - . . . - - 94 Fleeting Spring, ... - . 129 From Degradation Through Supplication to Education, - - - - - - 79 Harper, Mrs. Frances E. - - - 33 Just Married, . . . . . 123 Hurrah for McKinley, - - - - 58 Lincoln's Call, - - - - - 57 Life's What We Make It, - - - 32 Life Pictures, - - - - - 125 Love's Labor Lost, . . . . - 87 Love Regained, - ... - 90 Love and Fear Contest, - - - - - 92 Man's Imperfections, - - - - 47 Maceo— Cuba's Liberator, - - - - 71 Mother's Songs, . . . . - 21 Mother's Rage, . . - . - 196 GONTENTti. 247 Moth Tly Emotions, 28 Memory of Mother, ... - 10 Maid and Mosquito, - - - - - 119 Miigna est Veritas, - .... 121 Miss Snowflal^e and the Lovers, - - 97 My Bible, . . . . - . 103 My Sweetheart, . . . . .43 Negroes' '• America," . - - - - 128 New Year's Greeting, - - - - - 95 Only, - - .... - 19 "Our Country," - - - - - 10 Payne, Bishop Daniel, - - - - 40 Preamble, . . . . . - 7 Preface, - - - - - - - 5 Quietude, - - - - - - 126 Sam Jones, .... . \\q Sjnnet — October, ----- 70 Spotless, - - - - - 25 Stowe, Harriet Beecher's Works, - - 64 Stowe, Harriet Beecher's Monument, - - 69 Strong Drink, - . . . - 111 The Call that All must Obey, - - 60 The Easter Man, - - - - - 43 The Model Girl, ..... 81 The Trip I'd Like To Take, - - - 99 Time— Eternity, - - - - - 140 Uncle Tom's Cabin, - - - - - 64 Voice from the South, ... - 36 Woman In Congress, - - - - 124 Y. M. C. A. Founder, - - - 75 Pakt Seoondi. Childrens' Corner, - - - - 138 Cliildreiis' Kisses, ..... 139 248 CONTENTS. Childreus' Day, ----- 166 Children and Mother, - . . . . 146 A Chat With the Boys, - - - - 152 Excelsior, ..... leo God Sees, - - - - - 145 Heart Thieves, - - - - - 142 He Knoweth and Loveth You, - - 153 Industry lu Children, .... I54 Sauta Claus on New Year's Da/, - - - 14S Telephosie to Heaveu, - - - 153 The Simple Keason, - - - 169 The Time of the Singingf of Birds, - - - 141 Vacation's Endinj^, - - - - 156 Where i.re the Boys, - - - - 162 Part Tuiud. Ajax' Dream, ----- 180 Ajax' Second Dream, - - - 183 Ajax' Fright, ^ - - - 186 Ajax' Soliloquy, - - - - 188 Ajax' Kindred's Soliloquy, - - - 180 Ajax' Monument, - - - 191 Ajax' Song, - - - - 102 Ajax' Meditations, - - - 104 Ajax' Bashfuluess, - - - - 198 Ajax Looks Beyond, _ . _ 2OO Ajax votes for McKiuley, - - - 201 Ajax' Conclusion, _ „ _ _ 204 Ajax is Chastised, - - - - 2C6 Ajax at the Centenial, - - - - 207 Ajax' Appeal to America, - - - 211 Ajax' Death— (A drama.) - - - 217