■■■■ ;■■::■..-■"■<»'> v'.v*^ - ^- 
 
 iiiii 
 
klB RAM OF CONGRESS.! 
 
 t ■p-t^i'ts — r~ I 
 
 Uh |on.risw|o I 
 
 t ^ Hit-7t 
 
 * UNITED STATES OF AMEEICA. J 
 
Ill 
 
 
 ■!^S=&§j.rrt^ 
 
 BY 
 
 REV. DWIGHT VV^ILLIAMS, 
 
 ILION, N. Y., 
 
 CITIZEN STEAM PRESS, 
 
 1876. 
 
 '7r 
 

 Nllb^^ 
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1876, by 
 
 RET. DWTGHT WILLIAMS, 
 
 In the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington. 
 
INVOCATION. 
 
 Thy blessing grant, O Holy Father, 
 Thou who hast led Thy child to gather 
 The flowers he loved in paths alone. 
 Mid fields of treasure all Thine own. 
 
 As Thou hast led him by the ocean 
 To look thereon in rapt devotion, 
 
 Each tinted shell from depths of green 
 Be brought to Thy dear hand unseen. 
 
 And like a child in simple pleasure, 
 He fain would gai-land all his treasure, 
 And lay it in Thy tender care. 
 If with such gift Tliou canst forbear. 
 
IV INVOCATION. 
 
 O dear Redeemer, from whose sorrow 
 The richest gifts of love we borrow, 
 
 Caust Tliou accept the offering made, 
 And on thy golden altar laid? 
 
 And Thou, O Comforter, descended, 
 With every royal grace attended, 
 Dwell in a lowly listener's song, 
 Enchanted by Thy music long. 
 
 As from a lonely promontoiy, 
 The soul looks out on paths of glory. 
 And from the visioa turns to tell 
 The rapture felt so fond and well. 
 
 Wo from the hours of prayer and waiting. 
 The vision meekly consecrating, 
 It were enough for him to sing 
 The song he caught while listening. 
 
 If but a pilgrim catch a measure 
 
 To woo him to Thy love and treasure, 
 
 Enough for him who wrote the strain, 
 And gave it back to Thee again. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 The Tree of Life g 
 
 Moses 36 
 
 MiCHAL WeRRAN 62 
 
 Burning of Chicago 67 
 
 The Two Ideals 71 
 
 The River and the City 74 
 
 The Two Belts of Gold 78 
 
 The Nation's Wail 82 
 
 The Angel Flower Gatherer 86 
 
 We Shall All Be Changed 88 
 
 Dying Words 91 
 
 Keep Us Sweet 94 
 
 The Lifted Hand 98 
 
 A Little While 102 
 
 The Transfiguration 105 
 
 Be Still 109 
 
VI CONTENTS. 
 
 The Love of a Child m 
 
 Agassiz 113 
 
 The Old Bkown Schoolhouse 116 
 
 The Vagrant's Prayer 119 
 
 Music of the Rain 124 
 
 Cazenovia Lake 127 
 
 The Old Turnpike Gate 130 
 
 Forest Festival — a winter scene 135 
 
 Words 138 
 
 The Reign of Peace 141 
 
 O Happy Isles 145 
 
 The Wooing of Rebecca 149 
 
 Christ Stilling the Tempest 162 
 
 Tears 165 
 
 Hov^' Near is Heaven i6g 
 
 Translation of Enoch 170 
 
 The Phantom Lake 175 
 
 Class Tree Planting. . . .* 180 
 
 The Shadow Kiss 182 
 
 A Story of the War 186 
 
 Lottie Dougherty 196 
 
 Among the Thousand Islands 201 
 
 Just Over the Mountain 206 
 
 David and Goliath 209 
 
 Bring Presents 218 
 
CONTENTS. VII 
 
 An Incident of the Schiller 220 
 
 Winter Bouquet 223 
 
 Thanksgiving 226 
 
 The Unseen Shokii 230 
 
 He Shall Come Down Like Rain 233 
 
 Our DailY Bread 235 
 
 Put Strength in Me 237 
 
 Esther 239 
 
 Seeking Treasure 268 
 
 Like A Weary Dove at Sea 271 
 
 Hid With Christ 273 
 
 Archie and His Six Cent Testament 275 
 
 Lesson of a Shepherd Boy 284 
 
 My First Pastorate 287 
 
 The Black King 291 
 
 The Old Carding Mill 297 
 
 A Local Item 300 
 
 Gerrit Smith 303 
 
 Admiral Farragut 306 
 
 Charles Sumner 308 
 
 The Two Flags 311 
 
 Set Thine House in Order 316 
 
 The Waif of the Rail Car 319 
 
 Robert Annan 324 
 
 Centennial Ode 328 
 
THE TREE OF LIFE. 
 
 When once, on lonely Patmos' Isle confined, 
 The prophet saw in visions of his mind 
 The wondrous tilings the future then enrolled, 
 Whose gorgeous splendors he hath faintly told, 
 One of the seven angels came to him. 
 Commissioned from the fiery seraphim 
 To bear the seven vials from the throne, 
 Full of the seven plagues ; and he alone 
 Had winged his flight etherial to the spot, 
 Where drooped the prophet, by the world forgot. 
 The rock, that rising from the Icarian sea, 
 Lifted it's shoulder dark and heavily. 
 With lonely leagues of sterile paths and wild, 
 At once with strange celestial brightness smiled. 
 "Come !" said the angel to the weary one, 
 •'To yonder mountain, near the great white throne, 
 And I will golden visions show to thee, 
 And thou the bride of Christ the Lamb shall see. 
 I 
 
10 THE TKEE OP LIFE. 
 
 The prison rock, they left behind afar, 
 
 And sped in easy flight past sun and star, 
 
 To one of those calm mountains, evermore 
 
 In beauty rising from the Eden shore, 
 
 And overlooking realms of breadth untold. 
 
 The sea of glass, and vales of green, and gold. 
 
 Just at the mountain's base a city spread 
 
 With jeweled walls. The first foundation bed 
 
 Was jasper ; then a wall of sapphire blue 
 
 As pure as when we look the azure through ; 
 
 Thereon the chalcedony lay in gems 
 
 And flashed as from a million diadems ; 
 
 Above, the emerald coursed, in softest green. 
 
 As when fresh leaves with garden flowers are seen ; 
 
 The sardonyx, blent with appropriate hues, 
 
 And sardius, and crysolyte like morning dews. 
 
 Gleamed round the four square city height. 
 
 While beryl brilliants shone surcharged with light ; 
 
 Higher the topaz ; while the chrysoprase, 
 
 Of luster less, relieved the brighter rays 
 
 That from the hyacinthine wall above. 
 
 In radiance fell o'er all the land of love ; 
 
 And last and highest rose the amethyst, 
 
 Whose polished height the daylight ever kissed. 
 
 He saw a river near, deep, calm and bright, 
 
THE TREE OF LIFE. 11 
 
 Like liquid diamouds sparkling with soft light, 
 Reflecting from its surface golden rays 
 Of sweet unclouded day, whose sacred hlaze 
 Was not of sun, or moon, or radiant sphere, 
 But ever on the tranquil atmosphere 
 The glory seemed to fall, a morning light, 
 A day of beauty, endless, pure, and bright. 
 The source of this divine and crystal stream 
 Was underneath the throne of Him Supreme, 
 Who sat in wondrous majesty and might. 
 Creator, King, Redeemer infinite ; 
 On pillars of etherial light the throne 
 Was lifted up, dread, vast, august, alone ; 
 Archangels, seraphs, cherubs came with awe, 
 And waited for his messages of law. 
 
 Onward in crystal tides the river rolled, 
 And rippled past unnumbered streets of gold ; 
 Till, of the angel led, the prophet stood 
 Within a scene embowered, beside the flood, 
 The tree of life arose on either side, 
 And threw its beauteous arms enchanting wide 
 Across the river, arching it with shade, 
 Where winged warblers ceaseless music made, 
 And angels met, with themes conversant long. 
 Or tuned their golden lyres with words of song. 
 
12 THE TREE OF LIFE. 
 
 Not Lebanon's proud cedars stood so fair, 
 
 As this sweet growth of heaven's climate rare ; 
 
 It bloomed perennial, in endless spring. 
 
 And shed soft fruit to bless each living thing. 
 
 Twelve kinds of fruit the burdened branches bore, 
 
 And dropped, each month, the rich, abundant store. 
 
 The angels ate, and of the river drank, 
 
 With happy sliining ones of lesser rank ; 
 
 And realms in wonder heard its virtues told, 
 
 And blest its healing leaves and fruit of gold. 
 
 The prophet looked beyond the charmed scene ; 
 On either side, the plain stretched on serene, 
 E'en to the mountains of our God, which rose 
 Immense and high, in vast and grand rejiose ; 
 Which, glacier-like, unmeasured founts congealed. 
 Or, in their depths, iinfathomed stores concealed. 
 The secret mines of God's celestial ores 
 Shut in, and held by everlasting doors 
 Which oijened not, except by His command, 
 Or when He held the key, with kingly hand ; 
 Whence oft He drew the shining gems of power. 
 And cast them glittering in beauteous shower. 
 On worlds of life, and creatures of His care. 
 That all His treasure and His love might share. 
 And looking onward, whore the river rolled 
 
THE TREE OF LIFE. 13 
 
 Beyond the city, with its streets of gold, 
 
 Far iu the distance stretched an ocean wide, 
 
 A limitless expanse where outward glide 
 
 The angel voyagers, to realms so far, 
 
 They may not tell their path by nautic star; 
 
 Where fails the quadrant, on those waters dark. 
 
 The long celestial distances to mark ; 
 
 Still outward, to the starry shores that rise, 
 
 And lift their golden headlands to the skies ; 
 
 Or, through the mists, to lonely isles that wait 
 
 To see the first white angel sail elate ; 
 
 Or with adventurous prow, afar they turn. 
 
 Of new, untraversed continents to learn ; 
 
 Reserved fqi* homes of love, and joy perchance. 
 
 The Father's promise of inheritance. 
 
 The prophet gazed upon the wonder long ; 
 
 Or listened to the waves of heavenly song ; 
 
 A sea of harmony, that seemed to roll. 
 
 In measured flood-tides o'er his raptured soul ; 
 
 But fondly most, he lingered long and near 
 
 The river, sweeping on in crystal clear, 
 
 Beneath the arches, by the streets of gold, 
 
 'Mid royal charms, and splendors manifold. 
 
 But not alone the beauty of the scene 
 
 Felt he ; within those bowers of gold and green 
 
14 THE TREE OF LIFE. 
 
 He saw the mystery of love concealed — 
 A theme not all to angel minds revealed ; 
 The tree was God's great monument of grace, 
 Of mercy, to a sad apostate race. 
 Here, blossomed love in its divinest hue. 
 And fruit the fairest, on these branches grew ; 
 The love, which he had felt, a sinner won ; 
 The life of love, in Christ the Father's son. 
 
 The prophet wrote his vision, and we read 
 
 How God hath wrought for all our human need ; 
 
 This world of ours hath been by sin estranged, 
 
 And in its moral elements deranged. 
 
 God reared a fabric wonderful and fair, * 
 
 Wrought with His highest workmanship and care; 
 
 And while as yet no eye of conscious thought 
 
 Looked on the beauty which His hand had wrought, 
 
 Or praised the touches of His matchless art. 
 
 Or answered back His love with grateful heart, 
 
 He laid His hand upon the plastic clay. 
 
 And there a form before the mighty sculptor lay ; 
 
 With polished brow, and lips of crimson touch, 
 
 And neck of marble strength, and seeming such 
 
 In workmanship as well might grace 
 
 For statue art, some niche of courtly jjlace ; 
 
 When lo, the artist bent with lips divine. 
 
THE TREE OF LIFE. 15 
 
 And thrilled with life and thought the cold design ; 
 
 And God and men were kindred spirits there, 
 
 Companions in the bliss of Eden fair. 
 
 They talked familiar, e'en as sire and son, 
 
 Since God was love, and life so sweet begun. 
 
 The creature walked, and learned to love and reign, 
 
 And humble still, though lord of his domain. 
 
 Creation welcomed him, and blest the hand 
 
 That took the sceptre by divine command. 
 
 Six thousand years have rolled away, and strange 
 
 The record written on the scroll of change. 
 
 Where is the harmony of Paradise, 
 
 And where the growth of holy centuries ? 
 
 Where is the promised progress of a race 
 
 Launched forth at once upon the crowning place 
 
 Of high intelligence and holiness, 
 
 With every gift and good at hand to bless? 
 
 O, where the beauty of the temple reared. 
 
 And, to our God, by love and truth endeared ? 
 
 Where now, that sacred liberty of soul. 
 
 That knew no bound, but God's supreme control ? 
 
 Alas, man now a sinner is, and blind ; 
 
 A morbid darkness rests upon his mind ; 
 
 He walks unconscious of the hidden bliss 
 
 That far without, or deep within him is ; 
 
 The golden gates of power he seeth not, 
 
16 THE TREE OF LIFE. 
 
 Content with meanest joys, a groveling lot ; 
 The paths that lead to royal destinies 
 He shuns, and ways of sin and folly tries ; 
 And dims the brightness of his gifted soul 
 In cruel lusts, that charm him and control. 
 
 jNIan is a sinner, darkness reigns, and crime 
 
 Sits spectre like, in all the paths of time ; 
 
 And cruelty is in the homes of men ; 
 
 Vice lurks in city full, and mountain glen ; 
 
 In gorgeous temples, superstition grim. 
 
 Cries out for blood, at altars vile and dim ; 
 
 And seas of passion toss their surges high. 
 
 Where wrecked, the millions moan and sink and die. 
 
 In mournful ruin man degraded lies, 
 
 A victim of his sin, a splendid prize 
 
 Torn from the Almighty's crown of light, 
 
 To grace the sceptre of the Prince of night ; 
 
 And he, whose coronation was the song 
 
 Of angel bands, is captive now of wrong ; 
 
 And burning incense strange to crime and lust, 
 
 He trails his fallen glory in the dusl. 
 
 But must the victim fallen thus remain ? 
 Is there no hand to lift him up again ? 
 Humanity in ruins ! Shall the pile. 
 
THE TREE OF LIFE. 17 
 
 The vandal hand of sin for aye defile? 
 
 Shall arch and column, dome and capital, 
 
 And holy altar sink together all ? 
 
 The Father, who produced the structure grand, 
 
 And, by Omnipotence made it to stand, 
 
 Oan only call it forth anew again. 
 
 By one great act of sacrifice and pain. 
 
 'Twas solemn convocation in the skies , 
 
 A neWj a strange and startling enterprise 
 
 Had called the Court of Heaven together all, 
 
 But not to celebrate high festival ; 
 
 Archangels with their robes of dazzling light. 
 
 And thrones that flashed in massy splendors bright ; 
 
 And powers swift- winged with high authority, 
 
 With courtly ministers of less degree ; 
 
 High i^rincipalities, in long array. 
 
 Swept down from many a golden way ; 
 
 Cherub and seraph, each with unstrung lute, 
 
 Slow, solemn, deep with thought, and mute. 
 
 They gathered drooping, in a silent throng. 
 
 Low on the footsteps of the throne along. 
 
 Or bending from its corridors of light. 
 
 In silence folding all their wings of white ; 
 
 While gazing on the scene with rapt suspense, 
 
 Till they the secret knew that brought them thence. 
 
18 THE TREE OF LIFE. 
 
 Behold the universal Fiither now ! 
 
 Who reads the meaning of tliat sorrowing brow ? 
 
 Wliat overhanging shadow veils the throne, 
 
 What solemn tragedy, as yet unknown. 
 
 Disturbs the tranquil glory of his reign. 
 
 And hushes every angel song with pain. 
 
 The silence of the scene is broken. Long, 
 
 In strange discourse, the Father tells the wrong 
 
 That brings to foul revolt the fair green earth. 
 
 So lately sung, in hymns of angel mirth ; 
 
 And he, so providly launched on time's broad sea, 
 
 A wreck of ill, a shattered destiny. 
 
 Deep sorrows down those gathered myriads roll; 
 
 Deep throbbing grief sits silent on the whole. 
 
 But who is He stands at the Father's side. 
 So youthful, glorious, and dignified ? 
 Brighter, more beautiful, and blest than they 
 Who in the Father's royal presence stay ; 
 More ancient, powerful, and more divine. 
 Than all, who in His radiant glory shine. 
 He stands before the throng, the eternal Son, 
 Heaven's lofty Prince, the holy matchless One 
 Majestic calmness marks His princely form. 
 While angels scarce refrain their praises warm ; 
 They wait His words ; they know the Counsellor 
 
THE TREE OF LIFE. 19 
 
 Skilled in the lore of heaven forevermore ; 
 
 They know His tenderness, for they liave felt 
 
 His smile as round Him they have often knelt ; 
 
 And they have seen His power in paths afar, 
 
 Wliere He, creative, launched forth sun and star. 
 
 He speaks, and solemn awe prevails to hold 
 
 The throng attentive to His message told : 
 
 "My Father;" with a mild and reverent tone, 
 
 And then, the burden of His love makes known ; 
 
 "Permit my absence from tliy throne divine. 
 
 To seek, and save that lost sad world of thine. 
 
 I know how deep thy soft compassion yearns ; 
 
 How strong the love that in thy bosom burns ; 
 
 I hear thee groan to see the fatal curse 
 
 That robs thy throne and mars the universe ; 
 
 Thy law, in awful majesty I see, 
 
 And justice standing ever close by thee ; 
 
 No price can for the creature's sin atone. 
 
 The virtue must proceed from thy dear throne ; 
 
 Thou canst ol)tain it by a ransom price, 
 
 It only can be bought by sacrifice. 
 
 I go ; and lay my regal vesture down. 
 
 My royal power, my sceptre, and my croAvn. 
 
 Thy standard, I will plant again on earth. 
 
 And bring thy subjects back to truth and worth. 
 
 My conquering feet shall tread yon plains of sin, 
 
20 THE TREE OF LIFE. 
 
 And gems of endless, glorious luster win. 
 Alone I go ; I ask no angel band ; 
 Alone, in the dread conflict I will stand ; 
 And gathered legions from that rebel host, 
 Shall, in my conquering power and glory boast. 
 My hand shall jjlant the standard of thy grace 
 On that dark hostile shore, and I will trace 
 My lines victorious o'er that land of tears, 
 Till jubilee shall come with endless years ; 
 And I will build the fallen temple uji, 
 And place the glorious capstone at its top." 
 
 Ah. never words like these had angels heard ; 
 And never with such vast emotion stirred 
 The bosom of the Father infinite, 
 While seraphs wept in wonder at the sight. 
 Rejilying, thus the Father spake, "O holy Son, 
 I give Thee up, to leave my sacred throne ; 
 Go, seek the lost ones of my tender love. 
 And bring them with Thee to my throne above ; 
 I know that blood and tears Thy absence wait, 
 And guilty nations with a scorn ingrate 
 Will hunt Thee in Thy sorrow, and Thy pain. 
 Till Thou shalt wear Thyself the crimson stain 
 Of Thine own blood, and never tale of grief 
 Shall be like Thine, of holy weepers chief. 
 
THE TREE OF LIFE. 21 
 
 And they will jiierce the hands that hold for them 
 The crowns of life, with gold and sparkling gem ; 
 Aud yet, I bid Thee on this mission go, 
 And to my hostile erring subjects show 
 The yearnings of undying love for them ; 
 That for Thy sake, I will no more condemn 
 The apostate ones who to my power will yield, 
 But evermore will be their strength and shield. 
 Go while Thy vacant throne shall tell my loss ; 
 Go ransom my lost world by Thy dear cross." 
 
 'Twas night, and shepherds heard soft anthem strains 
 From angel hosts, burst sweet o'er Bethlehem's plains ; 
 And thus in choral full and clear they sang. 
 While earth and heaven with sweetest echoes rang: — 
 
 "All glory be to Him 
 
 Who dwells with cherubim ; 
 
 We come in joyful flight 
 
 To sing the prince of light. 
 Who, through the ages olden 
 Dwelt in the mansions golden, 
 
 But comes to earth to-night. 
 
 "He comes with you to dwell ; 
 His lowly birth we tell — 
 
22 THE TEEE OP LIFE. 
 
 In swaddling clothes He lies, 
 The Christ in mortal guise. 
 
 Laid softly in a manger, 
 
 Go ye and see the stranger. 
 The heir of earth and skies. 
 
 "To men of earth, good will — " 
 
 Again the air was still ; 
 
 Retreating wings of light 
 
 The shepherds saw in flight ; 
 And back to heaven's portal 
 They passed to scenes immortal 
 
 Above the silent night. 
 
 As died the song upon the midnight air. 
 
 The shepherds turned to seek the child with care. 
 
 They came with haste, as by the angels told. 
 
 To see the i^romised seed, proclaimed of old. 
 
 No golden couch, with folds of damask spread, 
 
 Or downy pillows, form his infant bed. 
 
 The royal mother faint at rosy morn. 
 
 Lays in a manger rude her sweet first born. 
 
 Within that humble shed, no maids of state 
 
 Upon the infant heir of glory wait ; 
 
 While unseen angels stay that mother's form, 
 
 And unseen ruby lips print kisses warm, 
 
THE TREE OP LIFE. 23 
 
 Upon the infant prince of earth and sky, 
 
 Or bend before His childish majesty. 
 
 Crown mother, gazing on tliy tender child. 
 
 Of thy heart's love and blessedness beguiled, 
 
 Thy lips, that kiss the royal infant's brow, 
 
 Siiall tell His blessed name — O, tell it now ; 
 
 The angel spake it in thy time of fear. 
 
 Speak ! Mary, speak, the listening world shall hear. 
 
 "My child— the world's and mine — 
 
 My babe, my gift divine ; 
 
 The angel told me this, 
 
 A royal name it is ; 
 And told in love's own story 
 The world shall see Thy glory, 
 
 And share with me the bliss. 
 
 "Thy name shall Jesus be — 
 
 To save the world and me. 
 
 My child, Thou art my king ; 
 
 My heart's fond worshipping 
 Is unto Thee most Holy ; 
 A loving heart and lowly. 
 
 My prince ! to Thee I bring. 
 
 Tlie mother of my Lord, 
 
24 THE TREK OF l^fFE. 
 
 I dare believe the word, 
 
 The promise made of old ; 
 
 And while my babe I hold, 
 In His sweet form and tender, 
 I see His coming splendor, 
 
 With royal crown of gold. 
 
 "The path from whence He came, 
 I know will be the same 
 Whence He shall turn again, 
 With all His victor train. 
 
 And with Him in His glory, 
 
 I too, will tell the story, 
 Of all His love and pain." 
 
 The wondrous mystery is now begun : 
 
 In human form, aj^pears the eternal son. 
 
 The word made flesh, on earth God manifest, 
 
 Immanuel, divine, forever blest. 
 
 He comes serenely in His babe-like form 
 
 To hush the raging of earth's vengeful storm ; 
 
 He comes, a child of poverty, that He 
 
 May give the nations all a legacy 
 
 Of royal treasure, from celestial mines, 
 
 And wealth, that all the gold of earth outshines. 
 
 He comes to plant new laws and forms on earth, 
 
THE TREE OF LIFE. 25 
 
 And give philosoi^hy a new and nobler birth ; 
 
 To shake the awful tyrannies that reign, 
 
 That liberty and holy faith restrain ; 
 
 To touch the nations with His magic charm, 
 
 And evil of its conquering power disarm. 
 
 In him is life ; the Life ; of men the light , 
 
 The dawning of a day to earth more bright ; 
 
 A day of peace, when nations hurt with chains 
 
 Shall shout deliverance from their cruel jjains. 
 
 He comes to shine in lowly saddened homes. 
 
 Or burn in holy flame, neath palace domes ; 
 
 A beacon, on the rolling waves of crime, 
 
 To tell relief to wanderers in crime ; 
 
 A star of hope, to mourners in despair, 
 
 Oppressed by sin, o'erwhelmed with grief and care. 
 
 A radiant halo, round the darksome tomb. 
 
 Revealing light immortal through its gloom. 
 
 He took the robe which we as sinners wear. 
 
 And on His heart He laid our grief and care. 
 
 He came a sufferer ; tears He knew 
 
 Would mark His path the world's dark jjassage throuu' 
 
 He saw from Bethlehem to Calvary; 
 
 And took our nature, prone to death, that He 
 
 Might know the keenest edge of human pain. 
 
 And make His royal loss our highest gain. 
 
26 THE TREE OF LIFE. 
 
 He came to conquer, and He knew the price 
 Of victory, nor shunned the sacrifice. 
 
 The Son of God, self-exiled from His throne, 
 
 Begins His kingly work alone, alone. 
 
 A stranger form He comes from Nazareth, 
 
 As, from the desert cries a voice, that saith 
 
 " Prepare ! prepare His way !" the promised one, 
 
 Of old proclaimed, begins His march unknown. 
 
 The "Wonderful" foretold, is coming near ; . 
 
 Behold the " Counselor" divine is here. 
 
 Make straight His paths ; a Conqueror comes to thee ; 
 
 O Israel may thine His scepter be. 
 
 The "Mighty God," concealed in shadows dim, — 
 
 The " Everlasting Father," welcome Him. 
 
 The " Prince of Peace," and lo, He waits 
 
 To crown thee, and restore thy lost estates. 
 
 Three years of weary toil, and tears and scorn ; 
 Three years of tender speech, to hearts forlorn ; 
 What blessed paths those royal footsteps knew ; 
 What converse sweet, with loving hearts and true ; 
 What crowds around Him breathless wait, to hear 
 Such words as never fell on mortal ear ; 
 Or bring their sick, their withered' blind, and lame, 
 Attracted by the mighty Healer's fame. 
 
THE TREE OF LIFE, 27 
 
 At Cana's marriage feast, upon the sea, 
 At Lazarus' humble grave, how royally 
 The flashes of His power His words attest, 
 Till He, as Christ is seen, believed, confessed. 
 Transfigured, on the mount He lifts the veil— 
 The smitten three bewildered fall, and pale, 
 A man of sorrows still, and on His way 
 To His dominions in the realms of day ; 
 And purposed in His soul at last to bring 
 The nations back to Heaven's glad welcoming ; 
 What if the Pharisees with high disdain 
 Stung all His tender soul with wanton pain. 
 What if they spread for His dear, homeless feet 
 Their wicked snares, and in their shamed corrceit 
 Abused and taunted Him with words of hate? 
 He answered not ; for he must work and wait. 
 
 But on He hastes, to the great sacrifice, 
 
 To pay a sinful world's vast ransom price. 
 
 The hour draws near, the hour of dreadful pain, 
 
 When He must bear the burden on Him lain. 
 
 He in the garden now in travail lies, 
 
 And feels the weight of untold agonies ; 
 
 He prays, "if possible it be with Thee, 
 
 My Father, let this cup pass now from me ; 
 
 But not my will." As if too great His grief, 
 
28 THE TREE OP LIFE. 
 
 An angel stood beside Him for relief, 
 
 And soothed the siif!erer's brow. O bloody sweat ; 
 
 Let not the world, Gethsemane forget. 
 
 And now He is betrayed by cruel hands. 
 
 And led to judgment by fierce, hostile bands. 
 
 The King of kings, the mighty Lord of Lords 
 
 Is mocked, blasphemed, by harsh, insulting words 
 
 The maddened throng, impatient, cry and roar, 
 
 And on His form their horrid imprecations pour. 
 
 Ringing out on the air, 
 Heai" their impious prayer, 
 
 As they shout, in wild rout, 
 And Omnipotence dare : 
 "t)n our heads evermore, 
 Be the blood which we pour !" — 
 
 Rising high, hear the cry, 
 In its murderous roar. 
 
 Now mocking, they cry 
 "Let the Nazarene die!" 
 
 "Spare him not !'' 'tis the plot 
 Of His doom, drawing nigh ; 
 "Ha! ha! King of the Jews," 
 How they taunt and abu&e, 
 
 With their sneers, and their jeers. 
 
THE TKEE OF I^IKE. 29 
 
 Him they madly accuse, 
 
 "Barrabas" they cry ; 
 
 "Let him live, and not die !" 
 "Bring Him out ."' how they shout, 
 
 "Lift the Nazarene high !'' 
 
 See the crown on His brow, 
 
 They are mocking Him now, 
 As they smite Him in spite, 
 
 And with insult they bow. 
 
 Look at Pilate, afraid. 
 
 As in purple arrayed, 
 Jesus waits in the gates, 
 
 Where decision is made; 
 
 Hear him cry as he stands, 
 
 While he washes his hands, 
 "Not the blood of the good 
 
 The occasion demands ! 
 
 "No fault have I found 
 In the man ye have bound ; 
 Loose the bands from His hands, 
 Nor the innocent wound ! 
 Even Herod hath said, 
 Let His blood be not shed : 
 
80 THE TREE OF LIFE. 
 
 Let me rise and chastise 
 This your captive, instead. 
 
 "Shall I lift Him on high! 
 Must the Innocent die ! 
 Shall I bring out your King, 
 At your murderous cry?" 
 "None but Csesar !" they shout. 
 With fierce clamor and rout ; 
 "Let Hirn hang, till death's pang : 
 Bring the Nazarene out ! !" 
 
 How they surge on the street; 
 O those murderous feet. 
 
 He is led with the tread 
 Of a storm in the heat, 
 To the mountain of pain, 
 Where the blood of the slain 
 
 Shall be poured on the sward, 
 As the earth's richest stain. 
 
 " Lifted up," as He said. 
 On the cross where He bled ; 
 'Tis the hour of His power. 
 By the blood which He shed ; 
 By His grief, by His pain, 
 
THE TREE OF LIFE. 31 
 
 He shall conquer and reign ; 
 He shall win from its sin, 
 Rebel earth with its train. 
 
 Ages past, ages yet 
 Are on Calvary met, 
 
 Evermore as before, 
 He hath canceled our debt. 
 So He came to this hour, , 
 
 From dominion and power ; 
 
 Yielding life in the strife. 
 As a frail, tender flower. 
 
 By the cross is the crown ; 
 
 On past the world's frown ; 
 Let it smite, in the flght. 
 
 Here we conquer alone. 
 
 From the night of the grave 
 
 Came the mighty to save ; 
 And He rose o'er His foes, 
 
 With the life which He gave. 
 
 A holiday in Heaven ! — glad jubilee 
 Was held by festal throngs, and joyously 
 The grand outringing chorals of the skies 
 Were bursting with ten thousand harmonies. 
 
82 THE TREE OF LIFE. 
 
 The massy gates of light were open thrown, 
 
 In welcome, to a lofty, conquering One. 
 
 Down the long arches of the skies, on wing, 
 
 The glittering angels silent poised, to bring 
 
 The tidings of His first approach, and hail 
 
 Him welcome to the skies, and bear the tale 
 
 To myriads, round the throne on high. 
 
 Expectant of returning Deity. 
 
 There had been royal days in Heaven of old, 
 
 When sweet voiced angels with their lyres of gold 
 
 Ascribed new honors to the kingly One, 
 
 As world on world was added to His throne ; 
 
 But never scene like this, with joy elate, 
 
 Did angel hosts in concourse celebrate. 
 
 On thrones, within the throne, that gorgeous rise, 
 
 O'erhung with radiant golden canopies, 
 
 High seraphs wait, with royal honors due, 
 
 When they shall hail the coming retinue. 
 
 But hark ! the glad exalting tidings break 
 
 The silence; boundless seas of song awake. 
 
 "He comes ! He comes ! ! The King of glory comes! ! !" 
 
 Peals through the lofty arches, and high domes 
 
 Of Heaven. Now loudly bursts the joyful cry, 
 
 "Lift up ye gates !" a welcome to the sky ; 
 
 "Enter for aye I the King of Glory in, 
 
THE TBEE OF LIFE. 33 
 
 The mighty in battle, and strong to win ! 
 Be lifted up ! ye everlasting doors ! 
 Welcome His feet, ye bright and crystal floors !" 
 The mighty Victor enters with His train. 
 And brings the trophies of His blood and pain ; 
 He beareth jewels, from the sands of Time, 
 And brilliants, rescued from the seas of crime. 
 He leads captivity a captive in, 
 And holds the keys of death and hell and sin. 
 Within Eis hands, are dark and mournful scars, 
 But on His brow are radiant, flashing stars. 
 He re-ascends the throne, and far and wide 
 Resound the honors of the "Crucified." 
 His native Heaven is jubilant with song, 
 And choral hosts tell of His triumphs long ; 
 The Embassy of love a world hath won. 
 And Christ is King ; His royal reign begun 
 Shall be the joy of endless yeai's. 
 
 Restored, 
 He sitteth now the world's all conquering Lord. 
 His eye is fixed on every land , he waits 
 Until the nations crowd His royal gates. 
 The battle march of holiness grows strong and quick, 
 And earth defiant long, of crime is sick ; 
 The standard i-ises, victors lead the way ; 
 
34 THE TREE OF LIFE. 
 
 The night rolls back, aud heralds tell the day. 
 The Tree of Life bends down its branches low, 
 And drops its fruit along the paths we go ; 
 The leaves fall on the nations, hurt and sad, 
 And lo, they leap with bounding heart and glad. 
 Homeward they go, from every land and Isle, 
 From lowly hut, and lordly i)alace pile ; 
 The name of Jesus charms the desert waste, 
 And to His sceptre all the world makes haste ; 
 The hand moves on the dial plate of time, 
 The noon is coming, beautiful, sublime. 
 When 'neath the reign of our Immanuel 
 All nations shall in peace and gladness dwell. 
 
 On, on, to reach the royal gates of light. 
 
 They go to see the beatific sight. 
 
 Life's river flowing from beneath the throne, 
 
 And Jesus with His radiant, jeweled crown. 
 
 The palace gates thrown open to the throng. 
 
 Who sing redemption's ceaseless holy song. 
 
 And life's fair tree, which shall foreverniore 
 
 Dispense to all its sweet, and sacred store. 
 
 Its fruits shall give them everlasting youth, 
 
 And they shall range yon boundless realms of truth, 
 
 Nor tire, to climb the fastnesses that hide 
 
 Mid golden mountain crests, their beauties wide ; 
 
THE TREE OF LIFE. 35 
 
 And with the elder angels they shall roam, 
 Till it shall seem one wide elysian home ; 
 And this shall be their joy, to love and learn, 
 To look where new celestial glories burn. 
 And wonder in the beauty of their King, 
 As with new songs His victories they sing. 
 
 No sin ; no tears ; in Heaven's eternal calm, 
 And healed of earthly woes by Jesus' balm. 
 They shall in holiness forever rest, 
 Within the royal city of the blest. 
 
 The nations saved through Jesus' blood are there, 
 And Kings of earth make haste, with honors rare 
 To His dear feet. The gates are open wide 
 Through Heaven's long day, nor comes the eventide ; 
 With his dear people reigning, it shall be 
 Through ages still, one royal jubilee ; 
 And Christ shall see the travail of His soul 
 Forever satisfied, in wide control. 
 
 -^^^^^^^ 
 
MOSES. 
 
 Where dreamily, the ancient Nile 
 Flowed on by Pharaoh's palace pile, 
 And mirrored from its bosom wide 
 The glare and pomp of Egypt's pride, 
 A princess sought the river's bank, 
 Arrayed in robes of royal rank ; 
 And, guarded by her tender maids, 
 Among the tall and graceful blades 
 Of flag, that hemmed the placid tide. 
 She walked along the river side. 
 "See! See! my maids, that little ark," 
 She cried ; "among the shadows dark ; 
 Haste to the flags, and bring it hence ; 
 It moves me with strange influence." 
 
 The ark was brought with gentle hand, 
 And opened by her sweet command. 
 Amazed they saw beneath the lid 
 A babe of wondrous beauty hid. 
 
MOSES. 37 
 
 Tlie princess, seized with trans]>ort wild, 
 Caressed and praised the stranger child. 
 
 Amid the silent shades unseen 
 
 A watcher had been stationed there. 
 And hid, behind the leafy screen, 
 
 She vigil kept with love and care . 
 
 Now hasting from her hiding place. 
 
 She came, and spake with gentle grace : 
 
 "Oh Princess ! let me go I pray. 
 
 And seek a Hebrew nurse to-day. 
 
 That she may nourish it with care. 
 
 The baby is so sweet and fair." 
 
 "Go" said the princess, while the maid 
 Sped like a fawn beyond the shade, 
 And sought her mother's sad abode. 
 
 Across whose lowly threshold fell 
 The shadow of a fearful rod ; 
 
 The awful scourge of Israel. 
 The mother came in timid mood. 
 And at the princess' side she stood 
 To hear what royal lips might say. 
 
 "I seek a nurse," she kindly said* 
 "For this dear babe, I found to-day ; 
 
 And took the pledge of Jochebed 
 
38 MOSES. 
 
 To give it ten del* love and care." 
 And turning witli her maidens fair, 
 She sought her palace home, to dream 
 Of childish love — a tender theme — 
 Till she should call the foster boy, 
 To be her own maternal joy. 
 But who shall tell the heart's delight 
 Of Jocbebed, that blessed night, 
 As once again, her babe she pressed, 
 Against her fond and throbbing breast. 
 
 O Time ! deep, silent river, Time ! 
 
 Whose mountain springs were earth's young prime, 
 
 Yield me a fairy transport now, 
 
 With magic sail and lightning prow, 
 
 And let me cleave thy mighty stream 
 
 Till I shall anchor in my dream 
 
 Beneath the light of far off years, 
 
 Where Egypt's crown of pride ajjpears. 
 
 Here let me sit within the shade 
 
 Of royal court, and garden seat, 
 Where king and courtier, in parade, 
 
 Appear in equipage complete. 
 Palace, and temple I descry. 
 
, MOSES. 
 
 Columns, and arches rising high, 
 And statues, reared to kings of old, 
 Famed only for their pride and gold ; 
 And wrought by skill of cunning hands 
 From revenues ot many lands. 
 Or, let me roam through sombre piles 
 
 With labj^-inthine windings hid ; 
 Or merging from their dark defiles 
 
 Gaze out on sphynx and pyramid. 
 
 O royal city of the past , 
 Too boastful and too proud to last, 
 What is thy name, and thy estate ; 
 What read I on thy palace gate ? 
 'Tis Memphis, long in story known ; 
 The court of Pharaoh and his throne ; 
 The "Noph" of scripture, proud and old, 
 Whose doom the prophet once foretold. 
 Now gazing down the thronged street. 
 
 What if three thousand years have flown ? 
 It is the hurried tread of feet, 
 
 The same old rythm we have known. 
 The dash and pomp of lordlings proud, 
 And solemn march of vassal crowd ; 
 Of palace splendor looking down 
 On homes that feel oppression's frown. 
 
 39 
 
40 MOSES. 
 
 Here fountains murmur cool and sweet, 
 Where paths of beauty winding meet ; 
 And song ajad fragrance fill the air, 
 A scene Elysian, bright and fair. 
 
 These are the scenes that greet the child, 
 
 Whose beauty Pharaoh's house beguiled. 
 
 And thus, Jehovah sought of old. 
 
 Through Egypt's arrogance and gold, 
 
 To bring this foster child of power 
 
 To that sublime historic hour, 
 
 When He should publish His own name, 
 
 Midst mighty tJiunderings and flame ; 
 
 And call a nation of His own, 
 
 To know tiie sceptre of his throne. 
 
 A pageant moves before me now 
 
 Of Egypt's pride and glory ; 
 Amiid tlie splendor of her court 
 
 But faintly told in story. 
 I hear the city's busy hum, 
 
 I hear its thousand voices, 
 "Long live the prince of Egypt, long!" 
 
 The city all rejoices. 
 
 The son of Pharaoh's daughter rides, 
 With royal guards attending; 
 
MOSKS. 41 
 
 And througs admiring follow him, 
 While shouts the air are rending. 
 
 And yet he wears no haughty air, 
 I see a shade of sadness, 
 
 O'erhang his fair and manly brow, 
 Mid Egypt's pomp and gladness. 
 
 In court and street his praise is heard, 
 
 Froni market place to palace ; 
 And vulgar eyes his beauty quaff' 
 
 As from a charmed chalice. 
 And music floats upon the air 
 
 Soft as the breath of roses ; 
 And garlands strew his royal path 
 
 Till night the pageant closes. 
 
 O Hebrew prince ; O favored one 
 
 In thy jDroud chariot sitting. 
 Sweet dreams of other years, I know, 
 
 Before thine eyes are flitting ; 
 And in the silence of thy heart 
 
 Are thoughts of future duty ; 
 'Tis life's grand struggle moving there 
 
 That shades thy brow of beauty. 
 
 Thou can'st not bow with reverent heart 
 Before the shrine of waters, 
 
42 
 
 Nor shout the great Osh'is' name 
 With Egypt's sons and daughters. 
 
 Thy father's faith, thy mother's i:)rayers, 
 In their low Hebrew dwelling, 
 
 Enchant thee with their hallowed power, 
 Of future glory telling. 
 
 And thus I hear thy secret soul 
 
 Within thy chamber lonely. 
 Pour out its low and sad regrets 
 
 Where God can listen only. 
 "Alas, why should I dream away 
 
 My years in wealth and pleasure ; 
 My brethren groan in bondage sore, 
 
 And sorrows without measure. 
 
 "I hear the voice of God in dreams ; 
 
 And shall I fear the trial ; 
 What though a crown awaits my brow, 
 
 God hear my heart's denial . 
 This is the price of Israel's peace, 
 
 And if theh- chains be broken. 
 My han<l must surely lead them out; 
 
 God waits; the word is spoken. 
 
 "I go; ye gilded halls, farewell ! 
 Farewell, O palace bowers ; 
 
MOSES. 43 
 
 Ye princes, brothers whom I love 
 In Egypt's stately towers ; 
 
 Pharaoh's daughter, fare you well, 
 Your son no more forever ; 
 
 The loving ties of years I break. 
 These royal bonds I sever. 
 
 "Farewell ye dreams of fame and power. 
 Ye festal scenes alluring ; 
 
 1 turn through sorrows rugged road 
 To riches more enduring ; 
 
 Through desert wastes my paths may be. 
 
 But they shall lead to glory ; 
 My crown is there, a fadeless one, 
 
 Unknown in Egypt's story." 
 
 I seem to hear another strange soliloquy 
 
 From royal lips in yonder palace high : 
 
 "Cursed be the Hebrew whom my hand hath spared, 
 
 And who my palace bounty long hath shared. 
 
 Alas, misguided love of Themistris ; 
 
 Alas, my daughter, has it come to this? 
 
 I read the plot against my royal throne, 
 
 And thou hast nursed the vile and traitorous one. 
 
 He yet will lead to foul revolt my slaves, 
 
 And rear his standard o'er our royal graves. 
 
44 MOSES. 
 
 Stained with the blood of Egypt, are his hands, 
 And lest he turn against us with his bands, 
 I now decree his death ; my guaixls away ! 
 To save my throne, the Hebrew quickly slay." 
 
 ***** 
 At noon sat Midian's i3riest within his door ; 
 Faint was the summer air with heat, and calm 
 The golden glory hung o'er hill and vale ; 
 Broaii fields of grain were ripening in his siglit, 
 And quiet hills of pasture stretched beyond: 
 A rural kingdom his ; and he was priest 
 And sovereign both. As there he restful sat 
 In meditative air, his daughters came 
 From distant fields, where they were wont to draw 
 The clear cool waters for liis flocks and herds. 
 A flush of strange excitement tinged their cheeks 
 With glow unusual. He marked their mood 
 So restless, and with kind and anxious air 
 The reason asked, and why they came so soon. 
 The tale was told of prowling shepherds vile, 
 Who came, and mocking, roughly treated them, 
 Their task preventing, while they fled with fright. 
 And how a stranger came, of princely form. 
 Who single handed drove the cowards hence. 
 And turned to aid them till their task was done. 
 
MOSES. 45 
 
 "Go bring him in," he said, "and spread the hoard; 
 Such valor wins my praise ; and ye shall serve 
 Him with the choicest dainties of my house." 
 Tlie feast was long, and rich the mutual cheer ; 
 The priest with wonder heard his guest ; the guest, 
 Delighted, listened to discourse more rich 
 Than he had heard mid all the teachers known 
 In Egypt's schools profound. 
 
 The sun went down. 
 And still the stranger charmed the jDassing hours. 
 He talked of Egyj)t's proud philosophers, 
 Her statesmen, and her men of high renown ; 
 He talked of art, of temples and of courts ; 
 And when the topic turned to deeper things — 
 Of faith, and heaven's mysteries of love, 
 The glow was warmer still, and thought took wings 
 And mounted to ecstatic realms. At length 
 They sought repose, when they had bowed the knee 
 Before the throne invisible ; and all 
 Were happy in the faith of Him, who keeps 
 Celestial watch o'er all his earthly fold, 
 
 " Abide with us," the jjriest and father said, 
 
 " Abide with us," the admiring daughters plead ; 
 
 And Moses was content to tarry there, 
 
46 MOSES. 
 
 And Ruel's friendship and liis bounty sliare. 
 
 His heart found rest in golden harvest fields, 
 
 And all the joy that Nature smiling yields ; 
 
 Ah, never in the halls of Memphis proud, 
 
 Where royal fetes drew in the courtly crowd, 
 
 Did beauty touch him with a charm more sweet, 
 
 Than in this guileless home, this loved retreat. 
 
 And blest was he, to ask and win the hand. 
 
 The fairest, gentlest of the sister band ; 
 
 And hapijy was the rural nuptial feast. 
 
 With benedictions rich by Midiau's priest. 
 
 From royal halls, to simple shepherd life, 
 
 Mid scenes sequestered far from noise and strife, 
 
 By rock and stream, through lonely desert ways, 
 
 O'er pastures green, through forest tangled maze, 
 
 He led his tender flocks with gentle hand. 
 
 An exiled prince, far in a stranger land. 
 
 Moses in Midian, — secluded years, 
 
 God worketh slowly in His plans : the seers 
 
 Of old were often hid beneath His hand 
 
 And held for service, till by His command. 
 
 They came as heralds of His stern designs. 
 
 The calm bright sun that in the noontide shines 
 
 Is lifting still the banners of the storm, 
 
MOSES. 47 
 
 And folds the tempest in the cloudlet's form ; 
 
 The quiet ages as they pass along, 
 
 Grow pregnant all with revolutions strong ; 
 
 Thus silence best befits the champion soul 
 
 For high behests and sceptres of control. 
 
 So came the Son of God, until the hour 
 
 When he went forth from Nazareth with power. 
 
 Long quiet years ; ask not the reason why ; 
 
 'Tis ever thus in God's great mystery : 
 
 He works himself unseen, and calmly waits 
 
 The hour until Hif; method culminates ; 
 
 And then the angels come with harji and psalm. 
 
 While throngs exultant move with waving palm. 
 
 Silence of Midian.— AVhat honor this, 
 
 To hold the secret of a life like his ; 
 
 What if we never saw the seed, to see 
 
 The oak is still the greater mystery; 
 
 And growing from the years so dark and long 
 
 Comes his transcendent life, so glad and strong ; 
 
 But for the struggles of those years untold. 
 
 His eye had quailed on Sinai's summit bold ; 
 
 His heart had faltered in the awful cloud. 
 
 When God proclaimed the law in thnnder loud ; 
 
 Nor, had he led God's ancient people out, 
 
48 MOSES. 
 
 From Egypt's prison house with song and shout. 
 Great propliet, hive the greater projjliet sent, 
 God shuthim in, and from his banishment 
 He called him forth, with dignity sublime. 
 To lead a nation's march ; no grander scene of time. 
 The church of old, the chvirch of later days, 
 Recount his deeds, and God Jehovah praise. 
 
 It was a lonely desert spot, and near. 
 
 Outlined against the clear blue atmosphere, 
 
 A mountain rose, in bold and towering form ; 
 
 In sunshine calm, majestic in the storm ; 
 
 And Moses hither led his peaceful flock ; 
 
 Or i^aused for rest, by tall o'erhanging rock ; 
 
 Or still among the mountain dells pursued 
 
 For pasturage, his way of solitude ; 
 
 When lo, a sudden flame burst on his sight, 
 
 An awful brightness of unearthly light ; 
 
 And Moses marvelled at its flashing hue. 
 
 Still wondering, he near, and nearer drew, 
 
 Until he saw a bush, with wild amaze, 
 
 Still unconsumed within the fiery blaze ; 
 
 And then he heard with dread a voice that came. 
 
 And broke the silence of the scene of flame ; 
 
 The voice was in the Are ; the mighty one, 
 
MOSES. 49 
 
 The angel spoke, and Moses heard alone : 
 
 " Take off thy shoes ; the place is holy ground." 
 
 And Moses hid his face in fear profound. 
 
 And then in gentler strain, the voice returned, 
 
 Still from the bush, within the fire unburned ; 
 
 And God with Moses spaRe, and gave command. 
 
 With jjromise of deliverance by His liand, 
 
 To all His people, still in bondage sore. 
 
 When He should open wide their prison door. 
 
 Hence Moses' high commission ; voice of fire ; 
 No doubt remained ; and all his soul's desire 
 Was Israel's rescue from the yoke of toil, 
 And all his kindred from the oppi-essor's spoil. 
 When Jesus, too, would lead the millions out, 
 The nations all, from bondage, sin and doubt, 
 The Holy Dove descended from on high, 
 A voice of sweetness falling from the sky ; 
 And Christ his royal leadership began, 
 And Canaan opened all its joy to man. 
 * * * * 
 
 Still Pharaoh dreamed in pride and power. 
 Defiant in his royal tower, 
 And feasted with his lords, and drank ; 
 Or when the banquet ceased, he sank 
 
50 MOSES. 
 
 Of pleasui'e weary, to his rest, 
 
 And deemed himself tlian all more blest. 
 
 We turn, and through the evening haze 
 Look where ten thousand altars blaze, 
 Far from the city walls. The scene 
 
 Betokens strange unrest and care ; 
 All tells of haste ! What doth it mean ? 
 
 A solemn hush pervades the air ; 
 The flesh of Iambs is on the fire ; 
 Ah, this is slavery's funeral pyre. 
 Look on the door-posts where they dwell. 
 What means the bloody symbol ? Tell ! 
 Their loins are girded, and their feet 
 Are shod, and standing all they eat ; 
 They wait to hear the glad command. 
 When they shall leave the oppressor's land. 
 
 'Tis midnight now, and royal eyes 
 
 Are shut in deep repose ; 
 
 No fear the palace knows. 
 
 The guard stands watch, and hourly cries 
 
 " All's well." The echo fixints and dies. 
 
 But hark ! a wild and sudden shriek, 
 A wail of deep despair 
 
MOSES. 51 
 
 Breaks on the midnight air ; 
 The rose fades out of beauty's cheelc, 
 And stalwart men grow pale and weak. 
 
 An awful form sweeps through the land ; 
 And on his dreadful path 
 He leaves his touch of wrath ; 
 
 No palace gates can him withstand, 
 
 Or iron bolt resist his hand. 
 
 The Almighty, wrapped in awful mist. 
 
 Moves through the realms of sleej:); 
 And hid in shadows deep, 
 Nor king nor slave his presence wist, 
 As drops the death bolt from his fist — 
 
 On palace hall and cottage low, 
 
 Where pillowed children rest ; 
 On every love crowned nest 
 
 It falls ; and Egypt's mothers know 
 
 The flood tide of a mighty woe. 
 
 The royal heir of Egypt's throne 
 Is silent, pale, and cold 
 Upon his couch of gold ; 
 
5? MOSES. 
 
 And lords, in jjalaces of stone, 
 Weep o'er their dead, and wail alone. 
 
 Their lifeless babes lone mothers press 
 Against their breasts m pain ; 
 With wild and frantic brain 
 
 They cry and moan in their distress ; 
 
 Or sit in ashes, comfortless. 
 
 Dead ! dead ! from house to house they wail ; 
 They tell from street to street 
 Where stricken mourners meet, 
 
 How sleep their first born cold and pale ; 
 
 And night lends horror to the tale. 
 
 The white heat of Jehovah's flame 
 The heart of steel doth fuse, 
 And Pharoah's will subdues ; 
 His torn heart bleeds, and droops his frame, 
 He quails to hear the Almighty's name. 
 
 With frantic haste, long ere the day. 
 The king for Moses calls ; 
 And in the royal walls 
 He stands again without delay, 
 To hear the luunbled monarch pray. 
 
MOSES. 53 
 
 " O Moses ! get thee hence ! begone ! 
 
 My liand and heart relent ; 
 
 God's judgment bolt is sent 
 Upon our houses, every one ; 
 And awful grief o'ershades my throne." 
 
 "Get from us quickly ! lest we die ! 
 
 Alas ! my dear first born ! 
 
 The palace is forlorn ; 
 Plead thou with Him who reigns on high ; 
 For who God's judgment hand may fly." 
 
 " O bless me ere thou go ; my heart 
 
 Jehovah's ire hath rent 
 
 From his high battlement ; 
 Plead ye for me ! let wrath depart ; 
 Remorse hath pierced me like a dart." 
 
 "Take all your flocks ; take all your goods ; 
 
 And gold our hands shall spare, 
 
 And jewels which we wear ; 
 Away ! away! o'er fields and floods, 
 Away, with all your multitudes." 
 
 The morning saw a cavalcade 
 
54 MOSKS. 
 
 Drawn up in order and arrayed. 
 Six hundred thousand men of strength 
 Made up the van of wondrous length ; 
 And wives and cliildren in tlie rear 
 Turned from their bondage dark and drear. 
 To feel no more a tyrant's hand, 
 And seek afar the promised land. 
 Their line of march is toward the sea, 
 And forth they journey glad and free ; 
 The cloudy pillar goes before. 
 And leads them on the desert o'er ; 
 Or, standing in the rear at night. 
 It shines and all their path is light. 
 The towers of Egypt in the haze 
 Fade slowly from their backward gaze. 
 Behind them lie their broken chains, 
 Before them freedom's unknown plains. 
 And thus they journey, day by day, 
 Led by the cloud along their way. 
 Till sand and wilderness are past, 
 They stand befoi'e the sea at last. 
 
 But hark; a sound upon the breeze; — 
 Is it the murmur of the seas ? 
 Is it the Simoon's distant roar 
 
MOSES. 55 
 
 That wildly sweeps the desert o'er? 
 Is it the storm with banner rent 
 With liglitnings on tlie firnaament? 
 Now louder, deeper, is the swell, 
 
 And rolling clouds of dust arise. 
 '' They come ! they come! !" what horrors, tell ; 
 " The Egyptians come !" what frantic cries ; 
 The camp with fear and dread is wild. 
 And ghastly pale is sire and child. 
 " O God !" they cry, in bitter prayer; 
 " O save us, Lord ; in pity spare!" 
 In panic wild they seek their chief. 
 And him upbraid in frantic grief: 
 " Ah, better bad we died as slaves, 
 And mouldered in Egyptian graves. 
 Than perish here, by cruel hands, 
 And waste upon the desert sands." 
 
 And Moses said " Stand still and see. 
 The Lord your strong defense will be !" 
 
 He waiting stood, and thus he heard 
 
 A voice that spoke this awful word ; 
 
 " Speak to my people ! forward go ! ' 
 
 What if the path ye do not know ; 
 
r,G MOSES. 
 
 I am the Lord, 'tis mine to lead ; 
 Then forward! to the sea, with speed!" 
 
 Tlie angel of the Lord turned back 
 And stood across the Egyptian's track : 
 And hid the camp of Israel, 
 While on their foes dense darkness fell. 
 
 The Red Sea waves were chanting low ; 
 And day was fading soft and slow ; 
 When Israel's leader stood beside, 
 With lifted hand the murmuring tide; 
 He stretched his rod upon the sea, 
 And gave the waters his decree. 
 
 The east wind rose, and all that night 
 It blew until the morning light ; 
 When lo, the waters stood on heaps. 
 And down the dark and briny steeps 
 They saw a pathway broad, and bare, 
 Mid mountain walls of water there ; 
 Down, down they go, with solemn tread ; 
 Down through the caverns of the dead; 
 Down by the sea king's dark domain,. 
 Where never from the morn of time. 
 
MOSES. 57 
 
 The might of man disturbed his reign, 
 
 Or trod his solitudes sublime. 
 On, through the water's dark defiles; 
 On, through the vast o'erhanging piles, 
 They pass as gently on their way 
 . As if through summer fields it lay ; 
 Until they reach the rocky stair 
 That leads them to the upper air ; 
 And on the Red Sea's other shore. 
 They wondering stand, and God adore. 
 
 With heart of ice and brain of fire, 
 The maddened Pharaoh with desire, 
 Enters the sea with double ire. 
 
 His charioteers with frenzy drive ; 
 And jostling horsemen hurried strive 
 To capture Israel alive. 
 
 Down through the sea wall's open doors ; 
 Down to the dark abysmal floors, 
 The frantic throng tumultuous pours. 
 
 The furious monarch heads his train. 
 And vows to measure swords again 
 With God, who left his first born slain. 
 
58 MOSES. 
 
 Down in the mid sea's darkest hall 
 He dreams of sport and carnival, 
 When he shall pass the deep sea wall. 
 
 As when a lightning bolt is hurled, 
 As when a tempest cloud unfurled, 
 Falls crashing on a thoughtless world ; 
 
 So, tumbling waves fell from the verge ; 
 So, wall smote wall with awful surge ; — 
 God's last o'erwhelming judgment scourge. 
 
 And there was one wild shriek of doom ; 
 Then all was silent in the gloom 
 Of that unsculptured ocean tomb. 
 
 And king and horseman breathless lay ; 
 
 Cold ghastly statues of dismay ; 
 
 In stillness neath the wild sea spray. 
 
 Ah, long in royal halls thej^ wait, 
 When Pharoah shall return in state ; 
 And march his captives back to fate. 
 
 But silent weeps the queen alone : 
 The king comes never to his throne. 
 And wives of lords make l)itter inoan. 
 
MOSES. 59 
 
 No garlands grace their arches high ; 
 No proud and gorgeous pageantry 
 Tells Egypt's glory passing by. 
 
 God cancels thus the debt of years, 
 Where Pharoah with his charioteers, 
 Goes down 'mid Egypt's love and tears. 
 
 God liveth yet ; and often He 
 
 Hath traced the path of history 
 
 Through many a dark and deep " Red Sea." 
 
 The foes of God, and foes of man, 
 He dooms by His almighty plan ; 
 And leads Himself His loyal van. 
 
 Hail ! hail ! ye grand prophetic years ; 
 The dawn of Jubilee appears, — 
 Sweet promise of the ancient seers. 
 
 The Christ of nations is in view ; 
 
 The ever strong'; the only True ; 
 
 He smites the sea, and j^asses through. 
 
 " I am the "Way," hark how he saith ; 
 And through the waves we go by faith, 
 A sure triumphant royal path. 
 
60 MOSES. 
 
 So Moses sang beside the sea ; 
 And these his words of jubilee, 
 An olden anthem of the free: 
 
 O sing to Jehovah ; 
 
 And speak of His fame ; 
 Exalt Him forever ; 
 
 The Lord, is His name. 
 At the breath of His nostrils 
 
 The waters on heaps 
 Were parted asunder, 
 A way through the deeps ; 
 And hither, His people, He led like a flock, 
 Down, down through the shadows, a j^athway of rock ; 
 Bat the horse and his rider, he drowned in the sea; 
 Jehovah hath triumphed, and Israel is free. 
 
 The Holy and Mighty One 
 
 Bareth His arm ; 
 And Pharaoh's i^roud captains 
 
 Are faint with alarm ; 
 He stilleth their clamor 
 Where mountain waves leap, 
 
 And hushes forever 
 Their shouts in the deep; 
 
MOSES. 61 
 
 Froai madness to stillness ; a sliriek and a moan ; 
 They sink to the bottom as sinketh a stone ; 
 The horse and his rider are drowned in the sea, 
 Jehovah hath triumphed, and Israel is free. 
 
 Forever and ever, 
 
 O Lord be thy reign ; — 
 
 The mountain of beauty, 
 
 Thy people shall gain ; 
 
 The proud dukes of Edom 
 
 Shall vanish away ; 
 And princes of Moab 
 Be filled with dismay ; 
 For gently Thou ledesfc Thy flock through the deep, 
 And tenderly folded in safety Thy sheep ; 
 The horse and his rider are drowned in the sea, 
 Jehovah hath triumphed, and Israel is free. 
 
 ^^^^^m* 
 
MICHAEL WERRAN. 
 
 Not where the battle cloud is red, 
 Not where the furious van is led, 
 Through storms of iron o'er the dead, 
 Are souls heroic only found, 
 
 Life's battle-ground 
 Gives not all deeds a trumpet sound. 
 
 Down in the mines below the sea 
 Toiled Michael Werran wearily, 
 Where never shone the sunlight free ; 
 Down, down amid the damp and dark. 
 
 With toil and cark. 
 He plodded by his lamp-light spark. 
 
 He and a comrade wrought, one day. 
 
 To blast a massy rock away. 
 
 Where rich and deep tlie copper lay; 
 
MICHAEL WERKAN. 
 
 Tliey placed the fuse, so quick to catch, 
 
 When they should scratch 
 Upon the wall the subtle match. 
 
 The basket, hung by cable strong, 
 That from the daylight swung so long, 
 Was ready for the "Heave-Ho" song. 
 Just then they thought to cut the fuse, 
 
 Too long for use, 
 And it between two stones they bruise. 
 
 But, ah ! the stones have struck a sjiark ! 
 They see the flash upon the dark, 
 The lighted fuse is sputtering, hark ! 
 Low, low beneath the Cornwall shore. 
 
 Dark evermore. 
 Huge walls of rock hang round and o'er. 
 
 Alas, alas, where now they grope. 
 Life hangs upon a single rojie 
 That drojDS as from a sky of hope ; 
 A moment more the bursting rock. 
 With dreadful shock. 
 May both in awful silence lock. 
 
 They mount the basket ; with a ci'y 
 
MICHAEL, WEKRAN. 
 
 They i^ull the signal far on high, 
 And wait to hear the quicli replj^ ; 
 Faitliful he stands, a comrade tliere. 
 
 In upper air 
 To draw his fellows from despair. 
 
 In vain the double load he tries, 
 And down the awful depth he cries, 
 "One at a time can only rise." 
 And at that awful moment came 
 
 The hero flame 
 Upon a man of humble name. 
 
 And Michael Werran promptly said, 
 "Go, Roberts, up ! let me be dead ; 
 A minute more and heaven shall spread 
 Its sunlit paths beneath my feet, 
 
 And I shall meet 
 With angels on the golden street." 
 
 Then calmly sat he down to wait 
 Until the rock's heart should dilate 
 And burst, and force his prison gate ; 
 His comrade vanished through the gloom, 
 
 And in his tomb 
 He sat to wait his awful doom. 
 
MICHAEL WERRAN. 65 
 
 He saw and beard the creeping fire 
 Steal onward as a burning wire 
 That soon should light his funeral pyre ; 
 And far above they turned to hark, 
 
 And soon the spark 
 Shook all the depths, and it was dark. 
 
 Down mournfully they go with lamps, 
 Those comrades, to the sulphurous damps, 
 Where grim the ghost of horror tramps. 
 And sadly they remove each block 
 
 Of broken rock. 
 High piled by that tremendous shock. 
 
 A stranger thing than death they see. 
 They hold their breath. O, can it be 
 That Werran lives ? Great God, to thee 
 Be praise, whose hand of power. 
 In that dread hour, 
 Girt Werran with a rocky tower. 
 
 Strongely those rocks were arched o'erhead, 
 A wall of safety o'er him spread 
 And from his prison he was led ; 
 And Michael Werran lived to share 
 
66 MICHAEL WKKRAN. 
 
 The honors rare, 
 Of those who nobly do and dare. 
 
 And Cornwall echoed with his praise, 
 Love filled his heart and crowned his days, 
 And fortune smiled on all his ways. 
 True hero souls are God's elect ; 
 
 He will protect 
 His servaiits all when time is wrecked. 
 
 And when the fragments of a world 
 
 In wild confusion all are whirled. 
 
 And mountains from their base are hurled. 
 
 Brave heart, the Rock once cleft for sin 
 
 Shall take thee in ; 
 Thy cross of pain the crown shall win. 
 
 •>g^|^|^M^ 
 
BURNING OF CHICAGO. 
 
 Hark! hark! hark! 
 From the midnight's hush and dark, 
 Hear a wild, wild cry of fear 
 Rising on the atmosphere ; 
 Wierd and shrill the echo flies, 
 Louder, hoarser clamors rise ; 
 Now a red gleam skyward darts, 
 Quickly throb a thousand hearts ; 
 Now they gather on the street, 
 Dismal tread of tramping feet ; 
 
 Fire ! fire ! ! FIRE ! ! ! 
 See the red flames leaping higher. 
 
 Peal, peal, peal, 
 Bells of byass and bells of steel ; 
 How they ring in awful chime 
 Through the dismal midnight time ; 
 
68 BURNING OF CHICAGO. 
 
 How the fiery demon gloats, 
 How he scorns the brazen throats 
 Which the dauntless firemen aim 
 At his surging bands of flame; — 
 Ah ! but fire is king to-night, 
 And the waters yield the fight ; 
 
 Higher, higher, higher. 
 Like a tempest sweeps the fire. 
 
 Street to street, 
 Like a raid of liorsemen fleet 
 Now the flery chargers dash, 
 Now their lances gleam and flash ; 
 Attic height and cellar's gloom 
 Lo, they smite with sudden doom ; 
 Palsied limbs and tiny feet 
 Ruthless drive they to the street ; 
 Food of millions they devour, 
 Gourmands of the midnight hour ! 
 
 How they spoil 
 Treasured arts of time and toil. 
 
 Crash ! crash ! crasli ! 
 See the fiery surges lash 
 Cross-crowned spire and splendid dome. 
 
BURNING OF CHICAGO. 69 
 
 Proud arcade- and palace home ; 
 Molten acres seethe and roll, 
 City lords no more control ; 
 Riot flames in fury whirl, 
 Toss their plumes and madly curl 
 Lips of scorn at human cries 
 Help imploring from the skies ; 
 
 To and fro 
 Rolls a sea of human woe. 
 
 Fire— fire— fire — 
 Bristles every throbbing wire ; — 
 Cities list with wild surprise, 
 As a prostrate sister lies 
 At her ashen altars low 
 Breathing out her midnight woe ; 
 Charred and crisp her pictured walls, 
 Blank and drear her proudest halls, 
 All the land with palor turns 
 As Chicago wails and burns ; 
 
 Let us pray, 
 God, O God, thy judgment stay. 
 
 In thy grief. 
 Pitying hands reach out relief; 
 
70 BURNING OF CHICAGO. 
 
 Lo, a hundred cities wait 
 In this hour of thy sad late ; 
 Prostrate Queen, thy wail is heard, 
 All the nation's lieart is stirred ; 
 We shall love thee for thy woe, 
 By this grief thou yet shalt know 
 Sweeter ties of brotherhood, 
 Binding millions of one blood ; 
 
 City fair, 
 Drooi? not long in wild despair. 
 
 Unto Thee, 
 God of refuge, now we flee. 
 Spread the shelter of thy wing 
 O'er the sad and sorrowing. 
 For the rich, now poor, we pray ; 
 For the sad and houseless poor, 
 Open thou some loving door ; 
 For thy scattered children all, 
 Proud and lowly, great and small, 
 
 Hear us plead. 
 Help, O help them in their need. 
 October 10, 1871. 
 
THE TWO IDEALS. 
 
 A i^ainter of Italian fame 
 
 Saw once a rosy child ; 
 Its loveliness entranced his soul, 
 
 His fancy strange beguiled. 
 
 His soul's ideal he had found 
 
 Of innocence and grace ; 
 The subject of his visions hence 
 
 Became that cherub face. 
 
 He touched his canvass day by day, 
 
 His soul aglow and warm, 
 And lavished love and beauty till 
 
 It woke in life-like form. 
 
 The picture hung long years, and shed 
 Its love-light on bis soul, 
 
72 THE TWO IDEALS. 
 
 And cheered ]iis toil and study there, 
 And clahned his heart's control. 
 
 The painter said, "If e'er I find 
 
 A contrast to tliat face. 
 It shall receive my richest skill, 
 
 And by its side have place." 
 
 He wandered long in lands remote, 
 
 And in a prison cell 
 He found the object he had sought — 
 
 A visage grim and fell. 
 
 A haggard form, forlorn and dark, 
 Upon whose frenzied face 
 
 He saw such imagery of hate 
 As crime alone can trace. 
 
 His genius flamed again, and wrought 
 
 His ardent, deep desire ; 
 The canvass spoke again with life, 
 
 Of malice, fear and ire. 
 
 He bore it to his study wall. 
 And hung the picture thei*e 
 
THE TWO IDEALS. 73 
 
 Beside his gem of innocence, 
 Tlie portrait of despair. 
 
 And there they hung, the two extremes 
 
 Of lauman life, tlie poles : 
 The sunny verge of innocence, 
 
 The sea of crime that rolls. 
 
 The painter's heart within him sank, 
 
 When the sad tale was told : 
 The sweet boy of his early love 
 
 Became the outcast bold. 
 
 The early and the later strokes 
 
 Of his proud, mystic art, 
 Had but revealed the tracery 
 
 Of one lone human heart. 
 
 O sunny youth, of vice beware, 
 
 Ere he, the demon, Crime, 
 Shall pencil on thy happy brow 
 
 A wrecked, inglorious prime. 
 
THE RIVER AND THE CITY. 
 
 Psalm xlvi. 5. 
 
 We picture in our dreams 
 The river, and its streams, 
 As through a quiet land 
 'Mid mountains high and grand 
 It seems to us to glide, 
 A broad and silver tide, 
 Until at last its crystal wavelets beat 
 Their tender rythm at the angels' feet, 
 As from the gate 
 Of pearl, they come and at the waters wait. 
 
 Have we not dear ones there, 
 Who golden vessels bear. 
 And drink of pleasures deep, 
 As on the water's sweep ; 
 Dear hands we held in ours 
 
THE EIVER AND THE CITY. 75 
 
 Amid these storm rent bowers, 
 Foud eyes, where in tlie liglit of earth we saw 
 How deep the fount where love is wont to draw ; 
 
 Familiar all 
 We seem to hear sweet olden voices call. 
 
 Here at the river side 
 The city stretches wide : 
 Not grand alone it seems, 
 And gorgeous in our dreams, 
 But quiet, pure and fair, 
 So tranquil is the air; 
 The tree of life with flower and fruit and song, 
 Seclusive overshades the blessed throng ; 
 
 O'er every sense 
 There steals a fond and home-like influence. 
 
 Here dwells the Lord most high. 
 His palaces are nigh ; 
 The Tabernacle true, 
 As in the prophets' view 
 'Mid Sinai's thunders loud, 
 And fire and smoke and cloud ; 
 Where He our great High Priest has entered in, 
 
76 THE RIVER AND THE CITY. 
 
 Himself once offered for the whole world's sin ; 
 
 The Holy Place 
 Conceals the wondrous mystery of grace. 
 
 Beyond the second vail 
 
 Where eyes of angels fail, 
 
 The great mysterious One 
 
 Goes burdened and alone ; 
 
 And coming forth he stands 
 
 And spreads his royal hands ; 
 Love, only love, in streams divine it flows, 
 And sweeps through channels worn by earthly woes. 
 
 Earth feels the stream, 
 And heaven is vocal with the blessed theme. 
 
 Not Jasper walls alone, 
 
 Or towers of polished stone ; 
 
 Not streets of solid gold, 
 
 Or mansions built of old ; 
 
 Not crowns that angels wear. 
 
 Or harps they play with care, 
 Not one, not all, can so attractive be 
 As that dear form that suffered so for me ; 
 
 To hear him say 
 "Well done," would more than all life's toil repay. 
 
THE RIVER AND THE CITY. 77 
 
 If in the streams that flow, 
 We here such pleasure know, 
 If on the thronged street, 
 We joy our friends to greet, 
 What rapture will be told, 
 When near the street of gold. 
 Our anchor drops within the river clear, 
 Beyond the paths of sin, and doubt, and fear, 
 
 And safe on shore, 
 We dwell within the city evermore. 
 
 
THE TWO BELTS OF GOLD. 
 
 A gallant steamer, from the Golden Gate, 
 
 Sped o'er the western waves in royal state ; 
 
 And homeward turning from the land of gold 
 
 Were stalwart men, with more than hands could hold 
 
 Of yellow nuggets, from the mountains brought, 
 
 Where they had won the prize for which they sought. 
 
 They thought of blessed days beyond the slopes, 
 A thousand eastward leagues, where all their hopes 
 Of home and children fondly lured them back, 
 From whence they took the bold adventurer's track. 
 So down the Californian shore they steamed, 
 Told tales of hardihood, and dined, and dreamed. 
 
 A ship at sea ; how strong, how weak, alone 
 
 Amid the elements, — but on and on 
 
 She leaves her white trail on the fresh'ning seas ; 
 
THE TWO BELTS OF GOLD. <9 
 
 Her pennon floating proudly in the breeze. 
 " Speak softly, Jim ! we must not raise alarm ; 
 We'll quench the Are before there's any harm ! " 
 
 The great saloon with laughter rings full oft, 
 And dimpled hands toss childish toys aloft ; 
 Young misses turn their leaves of green and gold, 
 Or listen to some tale of travel told. 
 But hark ! the children drop their toys ; the book 
 Drops from the maiden's hand, and pale her look. 
 
 "Fire ! fire! " they burst the state-room doors ; now wild 
 
 They throng the stairs — the sire, the maid, the child ; 
 
 And panic fills the ship with dread dismay, 
 
 The spectral flames assume terrific sway. 
 
 They shoreward turn the ship, while all on deck 
 
 Wait eagerly to leap the burning wreck. 
 
 Some fly to save their treasures with their lives : 
 What though the fire-flend lashes them and drives. 
 Two men with belts of gold prepare to leap, 
 And trust for safety in the yawning deep ; ' 
 They hear the pleading of a tender child 
 Before the storm of fear and frenzy wild. 
 
80 THE TWO BELTS OF GOLD. 
 
 "O cau you swim ? " she cried in anguish'd tone ; 
 "O do not leave me here to drown alone! " 
 One heeded not ; the other turned his ear, 
 And soothed the timid child with words of cheer : 
 His belt of gold unloosed, he flung aside, 
 And with a young immortal leaped the tide. 
 
 The fond child clinging to the hero's neck, 
 He bore her safely from the burning wreck; 
 And tossed at length upon a wave-dashed rock, 
 He senseless lay, bewildered by the shock. 
 Until he felt the kisses fond and warm, 
 The sweet child printed on his manly form. 
 
 But he who hugged his belt of gold alone, 
 
 Sank 'neath the cruel waves, as sinks a stone ; 
 
 The other saved two lives, a joy untold, 
 
 And richer than a thousand belts of gold. 
 
 It is the same old tale of sacrifice, — 
 
 Who gives his all, but pays redemption's price. 
 
 Hast thou a belt of gold, more dear to thee 
 Than duty's claim, upon life's rolling sea, 
 When helpless souls cry out in danger's hour, 
 And hell and sin are waiting to devour ? 
 
THE TWO BELTS OF GOLD. 81 
 
 Then toss thy treasure to the angry waves, 
 
 And bear thou precious freight from threatening graves. 
 
 Two belts of gold lie darkling in the sea, 
 And tell us each a tale of God's decree ; 
 The loser is the winner in the awful strife, 
 And thus the cross the symbol is of life ; 
 So came the Son of God, his crown laid by, 
 To bear his rescued millions to the sky 
 
THE NATION'S WAIL. 
 
 Woe ! woe ! woe ! 
 
 Sad and slow, 
 Toll in solemn grief ye bells ; 
 As a nation's bosom swells, 
 Heaved with frantic bursting pain, 
 Rending all the laud amain : 
 
 Toll! toll! toll! 
 To its rest a mighty soul. 
 
 Knell, sad knell ! 
 
 As ye tell, 
 O ye swift and lightning fires, 
 Flashing o'er the bristling wires ; 
 How ye pierce with bolts of fear 
 All our life's fond atmosphere! 
 
 Low ; low ; low ; 
 Sink our hearts in stricken woe. 
 
THE nation's wail. 83 
 
 Wail! wail! wail! 
 
 Deadly pale 
 Sits a widowed nation now, 
 With oppressed and saddened brow ; 
 Manly weepers turn away, 
 Children pause amid their play ; 
 
 Home and street, 
 Land and sea the grief repeat. 
 
 Death! death! death! 
 
 In a breath. 
 Falls the brightest star of fame 
 From our lurid sky of flame, 
 Where through surging clouds it shone 
 From its pinnacle alone ; 
 
 He our star 
 Calm above the smoke of war. 
 
 Change, O change ! 
 
 Sad and strange 
 Are the notes of victory stilled ; 
 And the nations blood is chilled 
 While the bells of jDeace ring out, 
 While the victors sing and shout ; 
 
 Tears, sad tears 
 Drown our hearts with anxious fears. 
 
84 THE nation's wail. 
 
 Long ! long! long! 
 
 Shall the wrong 
 That hath torn his mighty soul 
 From the living battle roll, 
 Pierce a loving land with grief; 
 Tears alone can give relief; 
 
 Weep ! weep ; weep ! 
 As our Lincoln falls to sleep. 
 
 Ages gone, 
 
 There was one 
 Poured his life blood from a cross ; 
 Earth was richer from the loss. 
 Thus it hath been, still shall be, 
 Till the world's glad jubilee. 
 
 Freedom's price 
 Evermore is sacrifice. 
 
 Once from thee, 
 
 Calvary, 
 Woke anew the march of time, 
 To the conqueror's reign sublime ; 
 From the mountain where he bled, 
 He his triumph march has led ; 
 
 Ages long, 
 ^ Louder, sweeter, grows the song. 
 
THE nation's WAIIj. 85 
 
 Down the years, 
 Through our tears, 
 Looking on the nation's march. 
 We behold tlie triumph arch. 
 Yet shall unborn millions see 
 Fruit of this dark prophecy ; 
 
 Evermore, 
 Lincoln fell a conqueror. 
 April, 1865. 
 
THE ANGEL FLOWER GATHERER. 
 
 Out of heaven's gates of crystal 
 
 Flies an angel every morn ; 
 And he roams with unseen pinion 
 
 Where sweet flowers the earth adorn. 
 
 Flowers he seeks with breath of Eden, 
 And he breaks the tender stems ; 
 
 And he culls from cot and palace 
 Blossoms for bright diadems. 
 
 Thus he gathers buds of beauty 
 
 Out of every land and isle ; 
 From sweet homes of love and virtue 
 
 And the dark abodes of guile. 
 
 Sad the voice of plaintive weeping 
 Rises where he rests his wings, 
 
THE ANGEIj FliOWEB GATHERER. 
 
 While he gathers sweetest flowers, 
 Leaving but the naked strings. 
 
 Then he flies with laden casket 
 
 To the morning land again, 
 And the odor of his treasures 
 
 Mingles with the seraph's strain. 
 
 Ye whose household flowers have vanished 
 'Mid your tear drops sad and dim, 
 
 Lo, they grace the scenes immortal, 
 Far away with cherubim. 
 
 Types of Eden's loveliness, 
 
 Early bloom of Paradise ; 
 God our Father loveth children. 
 
 Them he calleth to the skies. 
 
 Evermore the angel flieth. 
 Gathering with unwearied hand, 
 
 Blossoms for the joy imniortal, 
 From the flowery childhood land. 
 
WE SHALL ALL BE CHANGED." 
 
 ''We shall all be changed," 
 
 In the twinkling of an eye ; 
 
 In a moment, from the sky, 
 
 Shall the awful summons break, 
 
 Which the sleeping dead shall wake, 
 
 From the dark and silent tomb, 
 
 Bidding them to judgment come ; 
 
 While the living with surprise. 
 
 Shall behold the veil arise, 
 
 'Twixt eternity and time, 
 
 And the Conqueror sublime, 
 
 Claiming earth as all his own. 
 
 Sitting on his great white throne ; 
 The trumji shall sound, the nations come with awe, 
 To wait the sentence of his righteous law. 
 
 "We shall all be changed ; 
 In his fiery course, the sun 
 
"WESHALL, AL,T. BE CHANGKD." 89 
 
 Shall no more his circuit run ; 
 
 And th' astonished stars shall pause, 
 
 Awaiting new unspoken laws. 
 
 Earth's long history shall close, 
 
 Hushed for aye its crimes and woes; 
 
 Satan bound shall seize no more, 
 
 Choicest prey on every shore ; 
 
 Every idol shrine shall fall, 
 
 Every hellish carnival 
 
 Shall forever sink and cease, 
 
 As begins the reign of peace. 
 And all his foes shall wail because of him, 
 Who comes with angels and with seraphim. 
 
 "We shall all be changed ,•" 
 
 Then this mortal with its dust. 
 
 Shall put oft' its shame and lust ; 
 
 It shall rise in beauty warm. 
 
 Like the Savior's glorious form, 
 
 Incorruptible and fair; 
 
 Naught shall dim its glory there, 
 
 As in immortality 
 
 It shall rise and ever be 
 
 In the presence of the Lamb, 
 
 Who its ransom lowly came, 
 
90 "WE SHALL ALL BE CHANGED." 
 
 And on Calvary poured liis blood 
 
 In a sacrificial flood. 
 And every eye shall see the Son of God, 
 With robes of judgment, and avenging rod. 
 
 "We shall all be changed ;" 
 
 Ah, no herald voice shall tell 
 To the hosts on earth who dwell, 
 When the trump august shall sound 
 O'er the ether depth profound. 
 City throngs the doom shall hear. 
 Mountain hordes shall quake with fear; 
 Kings shall let their scepters fiill, 
 Childhood drop its playthings all ; 
 Prayer shall rise from earth no more. 
 Tears and sadness shall be o'er. 
 Earth shall from its ashes rise. 
 Evermore a paradise. 
 And saints shall through the coming gloiy sing, 
 The joyous pean, "Where, O Death! thy sting?' 
 
DYING WORDS. 
 
 "I see a world of spirits bright." 
 
 Mt MoTHEn 
 
 We saw thee, mother, waiting on the shore, 
 Where time's last brealvers daslied upon thy form 
 
 Thy soul was tranquil 'mid the billows' roar, 
 Thy spirit shrank not from the coming storm. 
 
 We knew that thou wert victor in thy life, 
 In countless struggles, for thy soul was brave ; 
 
 And thou had'st battled long in daily strife, 
 
 And conquered through thy caj^tain strong to save. 
 
 And He was with thee in that fearful hour; 
 
 We love Him for his tender care o'er thee ; 
 He showed to thee His strange and wondrous power, 
 
 And brought thee visions of eternitv. 
 
92 DYING WORDS. 
 
 "I see a world of spirits brlglit :"— we heard 
 Thee speak the vision of thy closing eye, 
 
 Could sweeter words our sobbing hearts have stirred, 
 Since thou must say thy last, 'farewell' and die? 
 
 It was to us the seal of thy life's faith ; 
 
 And as the Earth was fading from thy view, 
 Thine eye fell on the upward glittering path. 
 
 And pearly gates where pass the ransomed through. 
 
 "I see a world of spirits bright : — "dear saint ; 
 
 O mother, ripe for those high courts of bliss, 
 Thou could'st not leave us in our journey faint, 
 
 A sweeter legacy of blessedness. 
 
 We watched thee on the strand, a stricken few ; 
 
 But just beyond the dark and narrow stream, 
 The spirit of the long lost ones ye knew, 
 
 Were greeting thee from thy new morning dream. 
 
 O what surprise to thee to hear the tones 
 Of hallowed voices, silent to thee long ; 
 
 What words of welcome from familiar ones 
 Broke on thine ear in strains of joyous song. 
 
DYING WORDS. 93 
 
 One star hath faded from our changing sky, 
 One voice is hushed in our life's sad refrain ; 
 
 Another star has joined the hosts on high, 
 Another song breaks o'er the heavenly plain. 
 
 Yes, mother, thou liast reached the stormless coast. 
 
 Whose beauty lay before thy dying eye ; 
 And when we reach the vale of death almost, 
 
 May we behold the land of glory nigh. 
 
 '^'55i' <*S?5^^ ^St? 
 
KEEP US SWEET. 
 
 We are workers in one vineyard ; 
 
 Some are strong and some are weak ; 
 But the smiling of tlie vintage 
 Is llie common joy we seek. 
 Some must trail the vine and jirune it, 
 Some must stoop to dress the mould ; 
 But the few can pluck the clusters, 
 In the autumn's haze and gold. 
 We are workers altogether ; 
 
 Let us show no vain conceit. 
 While we pray the Lord of harvest, 
 Make us loving, keej) us sweet. 
 
 We are builders, and the temple 
 
 Rises slowly day by day ; 
 Some must lay the polished corners, 
 
 Some the brick of heavy clay; 
 Only one can place the cap-stone 
 
KEEP US SWEET. 95 
 
 On the summit grand and high, 
 While the shout of "Grace unto it," 
 Rises to the vaulted sky. 
 
 We are workers altogether, 
 
 Let us haste with ready feet, 
 Praying to the master builder, 
 Make us loving, keap us sweet. 
 
 We are fighting in the battle. 
 
 But we cannot all command ; 
 Most of us must march at orders, 
 
 Forward like a soldier band ; 
 Fame is not the hero's blessing. 
 
 But the sense of duty done ; 
 Life and treasure all are ventured 
 Ere the victory is won. 
 
 We are workers altogether 
 
 In the battle's flash and heat; 
 
 Let us pray our great Commander, 
 
 Make us loving, keep us sweet. 
 
 All our hearts in us are throbbing 
 
 For the good of human kind ; 
 But we see not all together 
 
 With a single eye and mind ; 
 
96 KEEP US SWEET. 
 
 Let each workman speed his brother, 
 
 With a voice of love and cheer ; 
 Let us not prevent each other 
 With our words of blame severe. 
 We are workers altogether, 
 
 For earth's brotherhood coinplete ; 
 Let us pray, in all our doing, 
 Make us loving, keep us sweet. 
 
 Golden prizes lie before us, 
 
 Let us now the work begin ; 
 Not the swift alone are victors, 
 
 'Tis a race where all may win. 
 For the lame and halt ones running 
 
 God hath promised each a goal ; 
 O my poor and sorrowing brother, 
 Thou shalt be a victor soul. 
 
 We are workers altogether, 
 
 Tottering age and manhood fleet ; 
 So we pray to Jesus ever, 
 Make us loving, keep us sweet. 
 
 Let the blessed kingdom hasten, 
 When the will of God shall be 
 Evermore the law and pleasure 
 
KEEP US SWEET. 97 
 
 Of his people glad and free ; 
 Would we strive to be the greatest, 
 
 Let us then be servants all ; 
 God has crowns and jewels waiting, 
 For the lowly and the small. 
 
 We are workers altogether, 
 
 Every brother let us gi'eet ; 
 As we pray the Lord of Glory, 
 Make us lovijig, keep us sweet. 
 
 *^^f^^l^ 
 
THE LIFTED HAND. 
 
 His uame was AViilie, and they brought 
 Him from the street one day, 
 
 For he had fallen from a loft 
 In boyish thoughtless play. 
 
 A limb was broken by the fall, 
 His back was crushed and bent, 
 
 And helpless hung his little feet. 
 His form with pain was rent. 
 
 No kind warm home had that poor boy, 
 
 No father to caress. 
 No gentle mother spoke his name 
 
 In tones of tenderness. 
 
 They brought him to the hospital 
 And laid him on a cot, 
 
THE LIFTED HAND. 99 
 
 Where many little sufferers lay, 
 And moaned tbeir hapless lot. 
 
 They called a surgeon to his side, 
 Where faint and pale he lay, 
 
 Who looked upon his broken form. 
 And thus they heard him say : 
 
 "AVe must take off his broken limb," 
 And then with saw and knife, 
 
 With skillful hand he severed it, 
 To save the jioor boy's life. 
 
 4nd there for weary days he lay, 
 Where stranger hands supplied 
 
 His little wants from hour to hour. 
 Or watched his couch beside. 
 
 But worse and worse he grew each day, 
 
 Until the surgeon said 
 "We must repeat the painful task ; 
 
 If not, the child is dead." 
 
 And then they told him he must bear 
 Once more the awful pain. 
 
100 THE LIFTED HAND. 
 
 A ud tried to cheer his little heart, 
 To suffer once again. 
 
 Though but a teuder child, he knew 
 
 The mystery of prayer ; 
 And had a view of Jesus, love, 
 
 His mercy and his care. 
 
 Upon a little cot quite near, 
 There lay a sufTering child. 
 
 Who shared like ministries with him, 
 With pallid face and mild. 
 
 And thus he sadly said to her, 
 
 "O Susie, do you know 
 That Jesus comes, and every night 
 
 Walks through this place of woe? 
 
 "And every time he comes, he takes 
 Of children two or three ; 
 
 And when he comes again to-night 
 I pray he will take me. 
 
 "I do not want to stay, and bear 
 The pain I felt before ; 
 
• THE LIFTED HAND. 101 
 
 I want to go where Jesus is, 
 And suffer neverruoi'e, 
 
 "And so when Jesus comes to-night, 
 
 I shall hold up my hand ; 
 And he will see me as he walks 
 
 And take me from this land. 
 
 "I've prayed to him, and he will hear. 
 
 And should I be asleep 
 He'll see my hand and take me where 
 
 Poor children do not weep." 
 
 The dark night curtain fell on earth, 
 
 So gently and so calm, 
 That slumber touched those little eyes 
 
 With its soft, soothing balm. 
 
 And when at morning light, the nurse 
 Passed through the ward with care. 
 
 She saw a lifted little hand 
 Above the bed clothes there. 
 
 And Willie's form was cold and still, 
 
 For Jesus saw his hand ; 
 And when the little sleeper woke, 
 
 'Twas in the angel's land. 
 
"A LITTLE WHILE." 
 
 "A little while," 
 Lone pilgrim, hear the word 
 Of thy dear absent Lord ; 
 He said thou should'st not see him for a while; 
 
 The dark defile 
 Of life doth briefly hide his tender smile. 
 
 "A little while," 
 The veil may intervene. 
 And darkness hang between 
 The form thou lovest and thy weary eyes. 
 
 The mists will rise, 
 And that will be a sweet and strange surprise. 
 
 " A little while," 
 And life's dark passing storm, 
 Shall change to sunlight warm, 
 
"A LITTLE WHILE." 103 
 
 And all with thee shall be eternal calm ; 
 
 And angel psalm 
 Shall on thy spirit pour its healing balm. 
 
 "A little while," 
 And thou shalt strangely hear, 
 The accents soft and clear, 
 Of olden voices ring familiarly ; 
 
 And O, to thee, 
 How sweet will those glad words of welcome be. 
 
 "A little while," 
 And softly gliding out 
 From ti>i!i dark sea of doubt, 
 Thy thought will rise and wing its easy flight 
 
 Through paths of light, 
 And thou shah look upon the Infinite. 
 
 "A little while," 
 Thy weary pilgrim feet 
 Upon the golden street 
 Will stand, and down the shining avenue. 
 
 With radiance new. 
 Thine own eternal mansion thou shalt view. 
 
104 " A LITTLE WHILE." 
 
 " A little while," 
 Pursue the way of faith, 
 Though toilsome be the path ; 
 Some day the darksome haze will vanish quite, 
 
 And on thy sight, 
 Celestial morn will drop its changeless light. 
 
 ^^^|^^|^^< 
 
THE TRANSFIGURATION. 
 
 Upward they trod 
 The lonely mount to talk with God. 
 One led ; he wore a perfect form 
 With tender beaming smile and warm ; 
 And there were three that followed him 
 Up through the shadows wild and dim. 
 They came to pray, and there apart, 
 And far from worldly pomp and art. 
 
 They bowed tlie knee, 
 The Saviour, and his faithful three. 
 
 In solitude 
 The soul best feels the reverent mood ; 
 Thus, it is blessed to recede, 
 And find God's hiding in our need. 
 To mount above the world's concern, 
 
106 THE TRANSFIGURATION. 
 
 And feel the inner glory burn, 
 
 Of love's celestial fire. How sweet 
 
 The silence of this lone retreat ; 
 
 Fit place for jirayer 
 Which hallowed all the mountain air. 
 
 O, voice of love, 
 Did e'er such words pathetic move 
 The spirit listening to all tones 
 That rise from his dear pleading ones; 
 Sweet voice of Jesus, never prayer 
 Arose more tender on the air ; 
 It melted, charmed the listening three, 
 Till on the wings of ecstacy 
 
 They rose away, 
 And stood before the gates of day. 
 
 The mountain fades, — 
 The daylight dwindles into shades ; 
 The gates of light swing open wide ; 
 And lo, a more than sun-bright tide 
 Bursts from the azure on their sight ; 
 And Jesus stands enthroned in light; 
 His native beauty this, when He 
 Stood in his kingly dignity, 
 
THE TllAA'SFIGUKATION. 107 
 
 In his own clinie, 
 Long, Ion": befoiH the birth of time. 
 
 Were they not four ? 
 Whence those briglit forms unseen before ? 
 All, there he stands, last seen of old 
 On Nebo's mountain, lone and cold, 
 Whither he went, his eye not dim, 
 To wing his way with seraphim 
 To his celestial Canaan far ; 
 Not his to cross the Jordan bar; 
 
 A crown of light 
 He wears, than Egypt's crown more bright. 
 
 And he, the same 
 Who took the chariot of flame. 
 And sped away in raptured flight. 
 Till angels saw him strange alight 
 Upon the royal steps of gold, 
 Of his dear throne, who heard of old 
 His prayer, when Baal's hosts were bowed 
 On Carmel's height mid clamor loud ; 
 
 Elijah hail! 
 Thy prayer was mighty to prevail. 
 
108 TKE TRANSFIGURATION. 
 
 Why come they now, 
 And wait upon the mountain's brow ? 
 Dear Son of God, they come to Tliee, 
 To talk of all thine agony ; 
 The shadow of Thy cross is seen 
 Along the fields of fadeless gi'een, 
 And angel eyes are tearful there 
 Before they hear thy last sweet prayer — 
 
 " Father forgive ; 
 And let my persecutors live." 
 
 Again the three 
 Look forth and only Jesus see ; 
 But even till their latest hour 
 The vision lingers with its power; 
 Those gates ajar have left a gleam 
 That brighter makes our earthly dream ; 
 The silver cloud on Tabor's height 
 Still drops its music with its light ; 
 
 Nor shall it cease 
 Till earth with heaven is all at peace. 
 
BE STILL. 
 
 " Be still, and know that I am God ;" 
 
 The way is dark and wild 
 
 Through which thou goest, luy child ; 
 I cannot promise thee a stormless path, 
 
 For lightning's scath 
 And thunder's roar the pilgrim's journey hath. 
 
 " Be still, and know that I am God ;" 
 
 The elements are mine ; 
 
 It is a hand divine 
 That guides the whirlwind in its awful course ; 
 
 The mystic force 
 t)f hail and tempest finds in me its source. 
 
 " Be still, and know that I am God ;" 
 In danger's hour be calm ; 
 
110 BE STILL, 
 
 This is thy secret balm, 
 To know that thou art safe when I command ; 
 
 Then only stand 
 And see deliverance by my mighty hand. 
 
 " Be still, and know that I am God ;" 
 
 Ask not the reason why 
 
 I weave such mystery 
 Through all the warp of thy frail life below ; 
 
 For thou shalt know, 
 And read the plan in heaven's serener glow. 
 
 " Be still, and know that I am God ;" 
 
 Through storms and fears be still ; 
 Only thy part fulfill. 
 
 And as thou walkest I will shelter thee ; 
 Thy foes shall flee, 
 
 And thou shalt journey all the way with me. 
 
 "Be still, and know that I am God ;" 
 
 'Twill be enough at last, 
 
 When all thy warfare's past, 
 Star-crowned thy head and in thy hand a palm, 
 
 To sing thy psalm 
 Where storms of earth end in eternal calm. 
 
THE LOVE OF A CHILD. 
 
 The love of a child — 
 
 The love of a child — 
 I own I am oft of the passion beguiled ; 
 
 I know it is bliss 
 
 To feel its soft kiss, 
 No balm of affection is sweeter than this ; 
 And Jesus to win it sjiread out his dear hands, 
 And children now love him in heavenly bands. 
 
 The child of the poor — 
 
 A smile at thy door 
 May fill his sad heart with joy brimming o'er. 
 
 O do not refrain 
 
 From soothing its pain, 
 Nor send it on moaning and pining again ; 
 Look down in those eyes, and see if tliere be 
 No image of gladness that will shine back on thee. 
 
112 THE LOVE OF A CHILD. 
 
 Did you know 'twere a bliss 
 
 Too precious to miss 
 When you pass to the realms of the angels from this ; 
 
 From little hands white 
 
 And eyes beaming bright, 
 To drink the sweet nectar of heaven's delight? 
 Forever, forever a joy it will be, 
 A fountain from childhood's land flowing to thee. 
 
 Away and away, 
 
 No longer delay ; 
 Find gems that will glisten in heaven's bright day ; 
 
 Oh, yes, they will cling 
 
 To the crowns which you bring. 
 And cast at the feet of Jesus your king ; 
 The heart of a child, O win it by love 
 To bask in its sunshine forever above. 
 
 The heart of a child 
 
 Though wanton and wild, 
 Odo not turn from it and leave it defiled ; 
 
 But touch if you can 
 
 By some little plan 
 The heart that will beat with the throb of a man ; 
 O win it to love thee where golden years roll. 
 And love is forever the joy of the soul. 
 
AGASSIZ. 
 
 Not on proud civic heights, 
 Mid galaxies of tall resplendent lights 
 That dazzle nations with their far-seen flame ; 
 He falls not there amid the lords of fame ; 
 For ye may look for princes otherwhere, 
 Than e'en in minsters old, or castles fair. 
 
 Not in the roar of arms, 
 Where greatness sits at ease amid alarms ; 
 Or plucks its trophies from the hand of death 
 In awful hazard of the blood and breath, 
 He drojos the sword upon the field of strife ; 
 In quiet paths he goes from mortal life. 
 
 Beyond the paths of State, 
 Above the scenes where restless thousands wait 
 
I 
 
 114 AGASSIZ. 
 
 To write their names ou tablets to be read, 
 When they who write shall mingle with the dead, 
 He saw remoter scenes ; and turned away 
 For slow rewards in rugged paths to stray. 
 
 Too poor was gold for him ! 
 He higher ti'easure sought in regions dim, 
 Where science tells entrancing tales to those 
 Who love her rugged heights, her calm repose ; 
 And thither led, his great soul was content, 
 A priest of nature on high mission sent. 
 
 Tlie world has many tJirones ! 
 Not all are built of gold or precious stones. 
 Nor yet most royal are tlie heads that wear 
 The crowns that flash in courtly splendors rare; 
 Earth knows its kingly ones and shouts acclaim. 
 And loves the memory of each lordly name. 
 
 Who takes the vacant throne 
 Where Agassiz unenvied reigned alone ? 
 The i^ath he trod shall woo delighted feet; 
 But who shall sit in his exalted seat 
 And wield the sceptre which he held with ease. 
 Whose trophies still the wide world's ear shall please? 
 
AGASSIZ. 115 
 
 Ye old Swiss mountains hear ! 
 Who cradled him amid your wilds severe ; 
 We fondly write the royal name ye gave, 
 Upon the marble 'neath our temple nave, 
 And drop the tear above his honored dust, 
 A treasure still, a well-remembered trust. 
 
 ^'W^t'S^^^^^^t^^^ 
 
THE OLD BROWN SCHOOLHOUSE. 
 
 It stood on a bleak country corner, 
 
 The houses were distant and few, 
 A meadow lay back in the distance. 
 
 Beyond rose the hills to our view. 
 The roads crossing there at right angles 
 
 Untraversed by pomp and array, 
 Were cropped by the cows in the summer ; 
 
 I've watched them there many a day. 
 
 In memory's hall hangs the picture, 
 And years of sad care are between ; 
 
 It hangs with a beautiful gilding, 
 And well do I love it, I ween. . 
 
 It stood on a bleak country corner, 
 
THE OLD BROWN SCHOOLHOUSE. 117 
 
 But boyhood's young heart made it warm ; 
 It glowed in the sunshine of summer, 
 'Twas cheerful in winter and storm. 
 
 The teacher, O well I remember, 
 
 My heart has long kept him a place ; 
 Perhaps by the world he's forgotten , 
 
 His memory no touch can efface. ' 
 
 He met us with smiles on the threshold. 
 
 And in that ruile temple of art. 
 He left, with the skill of a workman. 
 
 His touch on the mind and the heart. 
 
 Oh, gay were the sports of the noontime 
 
 When winter winds frolicked with snow; 
 We laughed at the freaks of the storm-king. 
 
 And shouted him on all aglow. 
 We dashed at his beautiful sculpture 
 
 Regardless of all its array, 
 We plunged in the feathery snowdrifts, 
 
 And sported the winter away. 
 
 We sat on the old fashioned benches, 
 Beguiled with our pencil and slate ; 
 We thought of the opening future 
 
118 THE OLD BROWN SCHOOLHOUkSE, 
 
 And dreamed of our manhoods estate. 
 O, days of my boyhood, I bless ye, 
 
 While looking from life's busy prime, 
 The treasures are lingering with me 
 I gathered in life's early time, 
 
 O, still to that bleak country corner 
 
 Turns my heart in weariness yet ; 
 Where, leading my gentle young sisters. 
 
 With youthful companions I met. 
 I cast a fond glance o'er the meadow 
 
 The hill just beyond it I see. 
 Away in the charm of the distance. 
 
 Old schoolhouse ! a blessing on thee. 
 
 ^^i^is^ai^^ 
 
THE VAGRANT'S PR \YER. 
 
 An English steamer sailed from Liverpool, 
 
 And wharf and deck with parting friends were full ; 
 
 Gray sires bade their sons a long adieu. 
 
 And mothers saw their daughters fade from view. 
 
 Out, out where rolled the billows wild and free, 
 The good ship leaped from wave to wave. To see 
 The streaming pennon, and the tossing spray, 
 And dashing wheels that drove her on so gay. 
 
 Were all a joy. Down in the cabin there 
 Were lords and ladies, men of cultured air, 
 And in the steerage, closely grouped, were seen 
 The coarse clad emigrants in humble mien. 
 
 And thus four mornings came and went. What's this? 
 There seems a stir upon the deck. It is 
 
120 THE vagrant's prayp:r. 
 
 A I'ipple of excitement; something new 
 Has called together passengers and crew. 
 
 A rag'ged little fellow, nine years old, 
 All snugly stowed away within the hold 
 The mate had just espied. "Ho, now for fun !" 
 He gave the order and the scene begun. 
 
 "Stand round ! bring out the boy ! the little brat 
 Shall make us sport ; bring out the skulk !" At that 
 The titter went its round, and curious eyes, 
 Looked on to see the timid boy's surprise. 
 
 And there he stood, a wretched child of want ; 
 In tatters clad, long used to scorn and taunt ; 
 A friendless waif, alone upon the sea ; 
 Too sad and worn for one so young as he. 
 
 "Boy!" cried the mate, "how came you here; who 
 
 brought 
 And put you in the hold ? " 'Twas thus he thought 
 He might, perchance, expose some sailor's greed, 
 To smuggle him across the sea unfee'd. 
 
 " Boy, tell the truth, " he said ; " we wait to hear." 
 He answered thus the mate, in childish fear : 
 
THE vagrant's PRAYER. 121 
 
 " 'Twas my step-father, sir ; he used me ill : 
 He brought me here— it Avas against my will. 
 
 He gave me very little, sir, to eat ; 
 Few clothes to wear, and nothing for my feet; 
 He flogged me, sir, because I cried to stay ; 
 I did not want to go so far away. 
 
 I have an aunt in Halifax," he said, 
 "And I must go and live with her instead. 
 Witli just a little food he hid me there ; 
 He threatened me — to move I did not dare. " 
 
 " Boy! " said the mate, in sterner accents yet, 
 " Tell all the truth, and nothing else ! " He set 
 His dark eyes on the lad, as he would pierce 
 Both rags and heart at once, his look so fierce. 
 
 But still he answered just the same. The mate 
 Took out his watch ; with solemn look of fate 
 He said, " Ten minutes, boy, have you to live ! 
 Prepare a truthful answer now to give. 
 
 If not, upon yon yard-arm which you see 
 I'll hang you till you die ! Boy, look at me 
 
122 THE vagrant's PRAYER. 
 
 Ten minutes by my watch ! " Pale lips and thin, 
 A quiver told how sank tliat heart within. 
 
 One minute silent passed, — two, — three, — five,— eight ! 
 
 " Two minutes only now ! " cried out the mate ; 
 
 The boy looked up and calm in his despair 
 
 He spoke, and these strange words he uttered there. 
 
 " Sir, may I say my prayers ? " With nod assent. 
 
 Upon the deck those little knees were bent. 
 
 Eyes closed. Hands clasped. No friend but God was 
 
 near ; 
 To Him he lifted up his soul in fear. 
 
 He slowly said the sweet Lord's prayer, and then 
 " O Father, take me for Christ's sake. Amen !" 
 The mate turned pale, and tender sobs were heard, 
 And hearts, unmoved before, were strangely stirred. 
 
 From those pale, trembling lips the winged words 
 Rose to the King of kings and Lord of lords ; 
 God heard the little vagrant's prayer, and He 
 Had found his homeless child upon the sea. 
 
 The mate bent down and clasped him in his arms, 
 He saw beneath his i-ags truth's royal charms ; 
 
THE VAGRANTS PRAYER. 123 
 
 He kissed his brow, and sootlaed his little heart 
 That Itnew tlie world's cold torture, and its smart. 
 
 So wins the truth ; so faith at last prevails ; 
 God lives and reigns, His promise never fails ; 
 A precious lesson conies, it seems to me, 
 In this poor vagrants prayer upon the sea. 
 
 
MUSIC OF THE RAIN. 
 
 There is music in tlie rain, 
 
 Rain, rain, rain ; 
 As it falls upon the plain, 
 
 As it drops upon the i)astures, 
 Or bends the bearded grain ; 
 And we love its merry chime, 
 
 Chime, chime, chime • 
 As it falls in measured time 
 
 On the dark and leafy forest, 
 Soft as old poet's rhyme. 
 
 When the big drops patter down, 
 
 Down, down, down, 
 On old mossy roofs and brown, 
 
 On the flower-scented gardens 
 Of country or of town, 
 
MUSIC OF THE RAIN. 125 
 
 How we love to hear tliern beat, 
 
 Beat, beat, beat, 
 Like the tread of fairy feet, 
 
 O'er our heads upon the shingles, 
 Or the pavement of the street. 
 
 There is music when it pours, 
 
 Pours, pours, pours, 
 Drenching all things out of doors ; 
 
 When we close in haste the shutters, 
 Against the storm that roars. 
 When the thunder with its crash, 
 
 Crash, crash, crash, 
 Follows swift the lightning's flash ; 
 
 Like the clangor of a battle, 
 When charging armies dash. 
 
 Sweet rain music let us list, 
 
 List, list, list. 
 To the marching of the mist ; 
 
 Catch the sound from out the rainbow, 
 When sun and cloud have kissed. 
 How we love to sit and think, 
 
 Think, think, think, 
 And sweet chains of memory link, 
 
126 MUSIC OF THE BAIN. 
 
 As aslant against the windows 
 Tlie frozen raindrops clink. 
 
 Rains of autumn, dull and chill, 
 
 Chill, chill, chill; 
 Summer rains on vale and hill ; 
 
 Rains of spring that bring sweet flowers ; 
 All, melody distill. 
 God be praised for teeming showers. 
 
 Showers, showers, showers. 
 In this beauteous world of ours, 
 
 Changing with their minor touches, 
 The music of the hours. 
 
 e^^l*^^- 
 
CAZENOVIA LAKE. 
 
 I sit, a lover, at thy feet, 
 
 While o'er thy breast the soft winds play, 
 And kiss the wavelets, fond and sweet, 
 
 That dance in measured tiiue away. 
 
 The sun looks down with loving glance, 
 
 And every ripple seems an eye 
 That flashes back a golden lance 
 
 Of love-light to the sky. 
 
 Thou singest me a tender song, 
 And rocks and pebbles are the keys 
 
 O'er which thy soft hand glides along 
 And wakes mysterious melodies. 
 
 Methinks I hear an old refrain ; 
 Such as a thousand years ago, 
 
128 CAZENOVIA LAKE, 
 
 Thou sangest with a plaintive strain, 
 With none to hear the cadence low. 
 
 Ah ! long thy virgin charms were kept 
 Soft shaded by thy wooded bowers, 
 
 While golden summers by thee swept, 
 And trailed their robes of woodland flowers. 
 
 Now, Art sits down and woos thy smile, 
 And grows more lovely in thy sheen ; 
 
 And lowly cot and jnansion pile 
 Rest sweetly on thy shores of green. 
 
 Sweet, sloping farms join hands with thee. 
 And shady groves thy waters hem ; 
 
 And, mid thy hills, so lovingly, 
 Our village nestles, like a gem. 
 
 We read of Scotland's mountain lochs, 
 Where poets wander with delight, 
 
 Or rest upon the highland rocks. 
 To feast on charms that greet their sight. 
 
 We read of Alpine lakes of blue, 
 Where pilgrims loiter fond and long. 
 
 To catch the misty mountain view, 
 Or list the peasants' evening song. 
 
CAZENOVIA LAKE. 
 
 129 
 
 But O-wah-ge-na, thou art ours, 
 We need not search for beauty far ; 
 
 Thou hvest, mid our classic bowers, 
 As sweet and tranquil as a star. 
 
THE OLD TURNPIKE GATE. 
 
 Familiar, quaint and old, 
 
 Through heat of years and cold, 
 It stood upon the broad and beaten road, 
 
 Wliere " a ta mode " 
 The rioli in coaches jjassed, or oxiuau with his goad. 
 
 At that old turnpike gate, 
 
 Alike the mean and great 
 Paid tribute, ere they passed those bars of wood. 
 
 That strong and good, 
 Swung to and fro for all the daily multitude. 
 
 The patient keeper there. 
 
 With mild untroubled air. 
 Sat in the heat of summer days, and took 
 
 With careful look. 
 The silver coin to hide away in some safe nook. 
 
THE OLD TURNPIKE GATE. 131 
 
 And when the days were cold, 
 
 He, snug within his fold, 
 Compelled the muffled traveler to wait 
 
 Before the gate 
 With hands benumbed, to pay his tithing to the State. 
 
 And oft at midnight dark. 
 
 He struck his tinder spark 
 At call of youthful swain from some late call. 
 
 Or festival, 
 Or messenger sent forth at some poor sufferer's call. 
 
 When that old gate was new, 
 
 The times were good and true ; 
 The women wore large bonnets made of straw ; 
 
 Dame fashion's law 
 Was less supreme than now the giddy crowd to draw. 
 
 The men were fond of toil ; 
 
 They broke the virgin soil, 
 And wrought laboriously for moderate pay ; 
 
 Bat laid away 
 Their hard-earned gains against a rainy day. 
 
 The girls to spin were taught ; 
 The fabrics which they wrought 
 
132 THE OLD TURNPIKE GATE, 
 
 Tliey wore at home, at school, or church, I ween ; 
 
 Nor thought it mean 
 Because they could not shine in satin's silver sheen. 
 
 Not on piano keys 
 
 Learned they the art to i^lease ; 
 The girl of that blest period remote 
 
 Could make a coat 
 For sire and brotlier, too, and sing with merry note. 
 
 She did not fear that toil 
 
 Her dainty hand would spoil ; 
 She kneaded bread and pies so nice and tart — 
 
 Exquisite art ! 
 This was her skill to charm, and take a kniglitly heart. 
 
 And thus she won the race 
 And took the housewife's place ; 
 She fed the poultry, wove the wool and flax, — 
 
 She was no tax. 
 But blessed her husband, while he swung the woodman's 
 axe. 
 
 The boys wore homespun grey, 
 And grew at toil and play ; 
 The winter days were passed at district school. 
 
THE OTD TURNPIKE GATE. 133 
 
 In Spring days cool 
 They planted corn ; in Autumn gathered garners full. 
 
 No dull velocipede 
 
 They rode with awkward speed, 
 But nature's chargers bounding o'er the plain, 
 
 With flowing mane, 
 And\ tossing head, held firm with bit and rein. 
 
 But time's resistless sweep 
 
 Has locked in silence deep 
 The creeking bars of that old turnpike gate ; 
 
 Early nor late 
 Tlie passing traveler offers now with tithes to wait. 
 
 The stage coach rolling by 
 
 Is hushed as silently ; 
 The driver's whip that rang with merry crack 
 
 Comes never back — 
 Tlie stuj'dy age has found a broader beaten track. 
 
 It is another age, — 
 
 We read a new life page, 
 And onward where the western deserts parch 
 
 The travelers' march, 
 The east and west are joining in a beauteous arch. 
 
134 THE OLD TURNPIKE GATE. 
 
 " Ho, westward ! westward ho ! " 
 
 From weary travelers slow 
 Shall never raore ring through the olden gate ; 
 
 The path of state 
 Is tracked with chariot wheels and steeds of fire elate. 
 
 Old turnpike gate, farewell ! 
 
 Thou bring'st a saddened spell, 
 For I am passing to the gate that swings 
 
 'Twixt unseen things 
 And things we see, where time each pilgrim brings. 
 
 And when I reach the gate 
 
 And at the entrance wait, 
 O may I bear within my secret heart 
 
 The finished art 
 Of God's own golden coin, the chosen better part. 
 
FOREST FESTIVAL— A WINTER SCENE. 
 
 The trees of late 
 
 Came out in state, 
 Most fairy-like and festal ; 
 
 And nature brought 
 
 Robes gayly wrought, 
 Fit for a royal vestal. 
 
 No bridal veil, 
 
 Of texture frail. 
 E'er hid a maiden's blushes 
 
 With such device, 
 
 As frost and ice 
 Hung o'er the bowers and bushes. 
 
 The grand old trees. 
 In stately ease, 
 
136 FOREST FESTIVAL — A WINTER SCENE. 
 
 Put airs on most entrancing; 
 With festoons bright, 
 And wreaths of light, 
 
 And silver ti'esses, glancing. 
 
 Old winter said, 
 
 "O'er earth I'll si:>read 
 A banquet more inviting 
 
 Than summer knows, 
 
 Of leaf and robe. 
 And fancies more delighting. 
 
 " Spring's diadems 
 
 Have no such gems 
 As from my storehouse lioary, 
 
 I'll bring from far 
 
 In my airy ear, 
 And sprinkle earth with glory. 
 
 •' I'll grace the hills 
 With silken frills. 
 
 And crystal bracelets bringing ; 
 The oak I'll grasj^ 
 With diamond clasp, 
 
 Amid the storm's wild singing. " 
 
FOKEST FESTIVAL— A WINTER SCENE. 137 
 
 Then iu a trice 
 
 With wand of ice, 
 He touched the forests olden, 
 
 And lo, they woke, 
 
 And beauty broke 
 More bright tlian summer golden. 
 
 Old Nature smiled, 
 
 And, like a child, 
 She swung in graceful motion 
 
 Her countless stems 
 
 Of flashing gems, 
 A charmed and silver ocean. 
 
 But weary soon 
 
 'Neath light of noon 
 The fairy glories vanished ; 
 
 The artist Frost 
 
 His power soon lost, 
 And from the realms was banished. 
 
WORDS. 
 
 Words are like leaves and flowers, 
 An inward life revealing, 
 Like that the earth concealing. 
 
 Gives forth 'midst light and showers. 
 
 Words take their life unseen. 
 
 As roots, the soft mould threading, 
 Support the tree wide-spreading, 
 
 In freshness gay and green. 
 
 Mysterious power of soul ! 
 To touch with living beauty, 
 And promptings sweet to duty, 
 
 With sacred high control, 
 
 The lifeless leaden word, 
 Till by its mystic flashing, 
 
WORDS. 139 
 
 Like meteor earthward dashing, 
 Life's darkest depths are stirr'd. 
 
 O ! holy eloquence, 
 
 When words like lightning's gleaming, 
 
 Across the dark sky streaming. 
 Speak of Omnipotence, 
 
 How sways the secret soul, 
 
 In wild unrest deep heaving, 
 
 Till urged to faith believing, 
 Hope gains the heart's control. 
 
 Words are the poets mine ; 
 
 And like the diamonds turning, 
 
 By fire in earth's deep burning, 
 The fragments learn to shine. 
 
 He lays them in his heart, 
 
 Till calcined by its heating. 
 
 The crystal whilst completing, 
 They wake the gems of art. 
 
 And then they wed to sdng. 
 
 And go on holy mission 
 
 To better man's condition. 
 Earth's weary paths along. 
 
140 WORDS. 
 
 O deep in holy hearts 
 Let words take their sweet moulding, 
 Till, from the world's beholding. 
 
 Sin's gloomy night departs. 
 
 1854. 
 
THE REIGN OF PEACE. 
 
 " I believe that our great'Maker is preparing tlie world, in his own good 
 time, to become one nation, speaking one language, and when armies and 
 navies will be no longer required."— President Gh^anCs Inaugural^ 1873. 
 
 The blessed years roll on 
 When earth shall yet be one ; 
 The mountain walls of kingdoms old, 
 And thrones of power with summits cold, 
 Yield to the march of progress bold ; 
 And men'are rising in degree, 
 The grand procession of the free. 
 
 The lightning tells the tale, 
 And love shall yet jirevail ; 
 The swift words bristle 'neath the.sea; 
 They leap the mountains wild and free ; 
 They sing all men shall brothers be ; 
 And kings descend, and peoples rise, 
 And man his royal pathway tries. 
 
142 THE REIGN OF PEACE. 
 
 The cannon mounted fort, 
 The flag-ship's booming port, 
 Shall peal the Nation's grand salute ; 
 And lips of men o'erawed and mute, 
 The lie of ages shall refute, 
 And tell how God is king o'er all, 
 How men are brothers, great and small. 
 
 O'er chasms broad and deep 
 The feet of love shall leap ; 
 And fire and fury shall not be 
 The test of right, and land and sea 
 Shall be the highway of the free ; 
 And this shall be the victor's pride — 
 A bloodless weapon at his side. 
 
 Who serveth man the best, 
 Himself shall rule the rest ; 
 As he the kingliest of his race 
 Obedient took the lowest place, 
 And rules forever prince of grace ; 
 Our Christ is marching to the gates, 
 And earth his royal kingdom waits. 
 
 One Nation ! let it be 
 One rule from sea to sea ; 
 
THE KEIQN OF PEACE. 143 
 
 Flash all ye wires with one command ; 
 
 Love write thy law for every land, 
 
 And keep the scepter in thy hand ; 
 Dethrone the tyrant forms of crime, 
 And bring tlie reign of peace sublime. 
 
 God grant the prophecy ; 
 God grant again that he, 
 Our chief, who spealvs these words in state, 
 May lead us to the entrance gate 
 Of those dear fields of peace, which wait 
 Until the nations enter in. 
 And new and bloodless victories win. 
 
 Columbia, lead the van ; 
 The mountain gorges span. 
 Help bridge the rivers which divide 
 And part our fellowship aside. 
 And kindred millions sunder wide; 
 The corners of the earth unite 
 With sacred bands of love and light! 
 
 Gun, sword, and mortar shell, 
 
 And bayonet, farewell ! 
 Hush evermore ye iron throats ; 
 Ye bugles cease your martial notes ; 
 
144 THE REIGN OF PEACE. 
 
 The victory comes ! the banner floats 
 Upon the rebel towers of wrong ; 
 Be jubilant witli bells and song. 
 
 Republics, kingdoms, states, 
 And lords, and potentates. 
 Behold, there comes a royal train ; 
 A victor leads, who once was slain ; 
 The lands are his, and he shall reign, 
 And this shall be the jubilee 
 That Christ hath made the nations free. 
 
O HAPPY ISLES! 
 
 I. 
 
 happy isles ! O bappy isles ! 
 Beyond the mists of time, 
 
 Where everlasting summer smiles 
 A fair and stormless clime :— 
 
 1 dream of ye, I dream of ye, 
 Beyond the sunset low. 
 
 That resteth down upon life's sea, 
 A soft and fading glow ; 
 
 And in my dream, my waking dream. 
 
 Such sweetness comes to me, 
 I muse, I muse uj^on the theme, — 
 
 Fair islands of the sea. 
 
 O hajipy isles ! O happy isles ! 
 
 How oft I dream of ye. 
 Where everlasting beauty smiles, - 
 
 Fair islands of the sea. 
 
146 o HAPPY isles! 
 
 II. 
 
 Often I list, I fondly list, 
 And from your happy shores 
 catch the echoes through the mist 
 Of softly dipping oars ; 
 
 And voices sweet, O voices sweet, 
 
 Come murmuring to me 
 Of angel voices fond and fleet, 
 
 Fair dwellers by the sea. 
 
 And O they tell, they sweetly tell, 
 
 In songs that echo clear, 
 Of those who in the islands dwell, 
 loved and cherished here. 
 
 O happy isles ! O happy isles ! 
 How oft I dream of ye, 
 
 Where everlasting beauty dwells,- 
 Fair islands of the sea. 
 
 III. 
 O wave-tossed bark ! my trembling bark ! 
 
 Thy prow is thither bent ; 
 Though often here by tempests dark 
 
 My sails are sorely rent ; 
 
o nAPPY isles! 147 
 
 But when the straits, the stormy straits, 
 
 My weary bark hath passed. 
 And lifted be the heavenly gates, 
 
 My anchor I will cast 
 
 Within the vail ; within the vail ; 
 
 Among the happy isles ; 
 Wliere comes no dai'li and stormy gale, 
 
 Nor touch of sin defiles. 
 
 O happy isles ! O happy isles ! 
 
 How oft I dream of ye, 
 Where everlasting beauty smiles, — 
 
 Fair islands of the sea. 
 
 IV. 
 
 O crystal sea ! O radiant sea! 
 
 I seek your island homes. 
 Where roam the ransomed and the free, 
 
 And sorrow never comes. 
 
 My kindred there, my kindred there, 
 
 They wait I know for me, 
 Where only love perfumes the air, — 
 
 Sweet islands of the sea. 
 
14S o HAPPY isles! 
 
 My Lord and King ; my Lord and King 
 Dwells in those happy isles ; 
 
 I long to see his face, and sing 
 Porever in his smiles. 
 
 O happy isles ! O happy isles ! 
 
 How oft I dream of ye, 
 Where everlasting beauty smiles,- 
 
 Fair islands of the sea. 
 
THE WOOING OF REBECCA. 
 
 'Twas evening with the patriarch, and dim 
 
 The shadows of a weary life on him 
 
 Had gatliered now, but still the mellow haze 
 
 Of age revealed the grace of life's young days ; 
 
 He only waited for the rosy morn 
 
 That greets at death the spirit heaven born ; 
 
 But ere his eyes should see that morning sun 
 
 One task remained, and then his work was done. 
 
 He called his eldest servant, faithful, kind and true, 
 And chief of all the household retinue 
 That waited his command, or shared the grace 
 Of love and kindness beaming from his face ; 
 He charged him thus, with accent solemn, slow ; 
 His last fond wish ere he from earth should go : 
 
 "Swear thou by Him who reigns in earth and sky ; 
 Fulfill this last request before I die : 
 
150 THE WOOING OF REBECCA. 
 
 Go to my country, and my kindred far, 
 Wait not tlie fading of the morning star, — 
 Go bring for Isaac, son of Sarali's years, 
 God's choice of love. He whom my soul reveres 
 Shall guide thee in thy distant search for her 
 Whom God on Isaac shall in love confer ; 
 Lo, now the angel waits to lead thy way. 
 Thy safeguard in the night, thy guide by day. 
 I charge thee not to bring a heathen bride. 
 No Canaanite shall in my house abide." 
 
 The servant clasped his master's thigh and swore. 
 And left with blessings meet the patriarch's door. 
 With camels, and with men, o'er weary sands. 
 O'er valley beds, and lonely mountain lands. 
 He journeyed till he saw the Chaldean plains, 
 With pastures rich, and summer waving grains. 
 The setting sun sent down its long slant rays, 
 And Noah's city flashed the mellow blaze 
 On rural scenes of beauty far and near, 
 And songs and fragrance filled the atmosphere. 
 
 Beneath the city wall, a stranger form. 
 He rested from his journey, long and warm. 
 It was the hour when gentle maidens came. 
 Just as the hills obscured the days last flame, 
 
THE WOOING OF REBECCA. 151 
 
 And pitchers bore with sound of rural hymn, 
 For eastern beauty loves the shadows dim. 
 Weary and faint, and yet entranced he stood, 
 When soon he turned to prayer's in tenser mood : 
 He made his camels kneel beside the well, 
 The air was still with the impulsive spell ; 
 And there, beneath that strange and evening sky. 
 He lifted up his pi'ayer to God on high : — 
 
 "O Lord, thou God of Abraham, I pray. 
 Show me good speed beneath thy hand this day ; 
 Thy kindness to my master wilt thou show. 
 Let him thy grace and early favor know. 
 Behold, beside the well thy servant stands 
 Where maidens come at eve in gentle bands. 
 Then let it be that she to Avhom I say 
 ' Let down thy pitcher ! give me drink I pray !' 
 Shall be the appointed one whom I shall bear 
 With haste to Isaac; hear, O Lord, my prayer." 
 
 While yet those reverent accents rose to heaven, 
 A maiden at that hour of dusky even 
 Adown the well i^ath sweetly glided by. 
 Her pitcher touched her shoulder gracefully 
 And fair as that soft oriental scene 
 Her beauty crowned the evening glow serene. 
 
152 THE WOOING OF REBECCA. 
 
 t 
 
 The servant wondering saw the maiden there 
 And thus he spake, according to his prayer : 
 
 "A little water from thy pitcher pray, 
 Thy servant give, for long hath been the day ; 
 And I have wandered far through mid-day heat, 
 O'er leagues of sand to find this cool retreat." 
 
 Then with a gentle confidence and bland, 
 
 She from her shoulder to her graceful hand 
 
 Her pitcher brought, and made this sweet reply 
 
 " Drink thou my Lord ! and for thy camels I 
 
 Will draw ;" and Uien with sprightly strength and grace 
 
 She liurried to the well again apace, 
 
 And filled the trough, while every grateful beast 
 
 Drank till the daj^'s long parching thirst had ceased. 
 
 The servant held his i^eace, for thought profound 
 Had fixed him like a statue on the ground ; 
 And wondering if the Lord had prospered him. 
 He stood amid the shadows damp and dim. 
 Within his hand a shining gift he bore 
 Of beaten gold; and, polished richly o'er. 
 An ear ring and two bracelets for her hands 
 Of many shekels' weight ; and as he stands 
 In that strange mood of thought, he breaks again 
 
THE WOOING OF REBECCA. 153 
 
 The silent scene, in this inquiring strain : — 
 
 "Whose daughter art thou, maiden ; tell me, pray ; 
 And hath thy father room that we may stay, 
 And from the day's long journey find repose, 
 With food and rest, safe kept from prowling foes ?'' 
 
 "Bethuel is my father's name, 
 
 And ample is his store ; 
 Turn, stranger, from thy toilsome way, 
 
 And rest till night is o'er. 
 
 Stalls for thy camels thou shalt have. 
 
 And servants for their care ; 
 Bethuel's bounty thou shalt know, 
 
 And kindly thou shalt share. 
 
 Thou shalt have water for thy feet, 
 
 And oil to cheer thy head ; 
 Slumber shall chase away thy care, 
 
 And safety guard thy bed." 
 
 The servant bowed his head, and worshipped there, 
 And offered sacrifice of praise and prayer ; 
 He blessed the God of Abraham, whose grace, 
 Had turned his feet to this auspicious place. 
 
154 THE WOOING OF REBECCA. 
 
 Then to her mother's house the damsel ran, 
 And, wondering, told the sayings of the man. 
 The ear ring, and the bracelets all she showed, 
 The golden gifts the man on her bestowed. 
 
 " Go Laban ! out" the father said " with haste, 
 And bring the stranger as a welcome guest ; 
 Ungird the camels, and my stalls prepare 
 With straw and provender and tender care ; 
 Bring bread and meat and dainties from my hoard. 
 And for the stranger spread my generous board." 
 
 The light of evening lamps shone o'er the place 
 Where rustic beauty reigned and gentle grace ; 
 A loving home, of lure and guile unharmed. 
 With frugal thrift, and royal plenty charmed ; 
 And like the spirit of a dream it fell 
 That eventide, God's benison " all's well." 
 
 The mother, watchful in her household care. 
 
 Seemed graceful still amid her maidens fair ; 
 
 But there was one the pride of all the rest. 
 
 The fairest one, observed of every guest. 
 
 Rebecca was the joy of all who dwelt 
 
 In that dear home, or at its altar knelt ; 
 
 Her parents blessed her with their tender praise, 
 
THE WOOING OF REBECCA 155 
 
 The love light of their dark, declining days, 
 And friend and stranger wearied not to tell 
 The charm she held, a fond and potent spell. 
 
 A patriarchal man — Bethuel — sat 
 To serve his waiting guest, while friendly chat 
 Went round the board from host to guest. 
 And in Bethuel's bounty all were blest. 
 
 Ere yet they tasted meat, a sudden change 
 
 Came o'er the scene ; in accents quick and strange 
 
 The new found guest broke forth in this address : , . 
 
 "I will not taste of meat till I confess 
 
 And tell the errand which hath brought me here ; 
 
 Till this be done I know no rest or cheer." 
 
 " Speak on !" the patriarch said, while every eye 
 Was fixed upon the stranger, anxiously. 
 
 " The servant of my master Abraham 
 I come, with greetings in his royal name, 
 For he is great ; the favored of the Lord ; 
 Who gold and silver hath in plenty poured 
 Into his hand, and flocks and herds hath he 
 In honor great and all prosperity. 
 My master's wife is Sarah, and she bare 
 
156 THE WOOING OF REBECCA. 
 
 A son in age, of all his wealtli the heir ; 
 And solemn charge he made in words like these 
 ' Thou shalt not by most sacred promises 
 Bring any daughter of the Canaan ites 
 To wed my son, in whom my soul delights. 
 Go to my kindred, in the land of Ur, 
 The angel of the Lord will show thee her 
 Who Isaac's wife shall be.' And I am here, 
 Led by an angel guide through days of fear ; 
 And all the Lord, hath said is thus far done. 
 The gifts of gold now grace the chosen one ; 
 My master's brother's daughter is the choice, 
 Rebecca 'tis ! it is the Lord's own voice. 
 Now will ye with my master truly deal, 
 And ere the feast, give me the sacred seal, 
 That I may bear Rebecca to my lord. 
 According to my master's gracious word?" 
 
 No thought of meat or wine engrossed the hour, 
 A spell bound every mind with mystic power; 
 How could the ftither in a moment make 
 Decision on so great and dear a stake ? 
 How could the mother sunder every tie. 
 To see her child no more till she should die? 
 How could the brother bear the secret pain. 
 
THE WOOING OF REBECCA. 157 
 
 To tear a link from sweet affection's chain? 
 But he who holds of liuman hearts the key 
 Can enter there, and write his own decree. 
 
 Then Laban and Bethuel answering, said : 
 
 " The thing proceeds from God, our words are staid ; 
 
 We cannot answer good or bad to thee ; 
 
 God reigns ; it is tlie voice of prophecy. 
 
 Behold Rebecca, pride of every heart. 
 
 Our household joy, 'tis pain with her to jiart ; 
 
 But take her ; go to bless thy master's son ; 
 
 It is enough, since God's own will be done." 
 
 Again the servant bowed him to the ground 
 
 In worship for the favor he had found ; 
 
 And jewels brought he forth of shining gold. 
 
 With silver jewels all of price untold ; 
 
 And raiment fine, of costly fabric made, 
 
 And in their sight the bridal gifts displayed. 
 
 The feast went on, and tales of cheer they told, 
 
 Of land and home, and strange adventure bold ; 
 
 Or talked of their traditions, or in song 
 
 Revived the stories kept for ages long, 
 
 Till weary of the festal hours, they went 
 
 To dream of love and home, in peace content. 
 
158 THE WOOING OF REBECCA. 
 
 The morning sun arose, and with its light, 
 
 Bethuel's guests came from the rest of niglit. 
 
 Then came tlie morning meal, the grateful j^rayer, 
 
 The orison of praise they oftered there. 
 
 " Send, send me now away !" the servant said, 
 
 " Since God my journey hath so prospered." 
 
 " Nay !" said the brother and the mother, " nay ! 
 
 Abide thou yet with us ten days we pray ; 
 
 Then shalt thou bear away our joy and pride, 
 
 Rebecca then may go as Isaac's bride." 
 
 " Nay ! let me to my master go with speed, 
 
 Nor hinder me, since God my way doth lead ; 
 
 The hours are long, detain me not I pi'ay, 
 
 My master waits and I may not delay." 
 
 Of the gems of earth there shLneth not 
 
 In lordly palace hall, or lowly cot, 
 
 A brilliant of such warm and tender hue 
 
 As this, a daughter loving, pure and true ; 
 
 Or like the fragrance of a garden bower, 
 
 Where love jxits forth its most delicious flower, 
 
 To blush its beauty soft in rainbow hues. 
 
 And hold for holy lijDS its pearly dews, 
 
 And such was she around whose cherished form, 
 
 A chain of hearts were drawing, fond and warm ; 
 
THE WOOING OF REBECCA. 159 
 
 She stood before tliem in that hallowed spot, 
 Her childhood home, so long her happy lot, 
 Where she had grown as grows the tender vine. 
 Whose tendrils I'ound the stranger oak entwine 
 
 "Kebecca, wilt thou with this stranger go," 
 They said, " to scenes afar thou dost not know? 
 To father, mother, canst thou say 'farewell,' 
 Amid thy childhood scenes no more to dwell?" 
 
 Ah, never stood she in their sight so fair. 
 With tearful eye, and soul of struggling prayer ; 
 Ah, never sang she song of touching words, 
 With music like the wind-harp's mournful chords, 
 That fell so strange and sweet as this reply, 
 As if she spake a strain of prophecy : 
 " It is the voice of God that bids me go, 
 I may not stay, since God my way doth show ; 
 Sad is the hour, and painful is the smart 
 That opes the fountains of my troubled heart 
 Yet still to Canaan turn my anxious eyes, 
 Strange visions on my opening future rise 
 Before my soul a sacred scroll appears. 
 Whereon I read the march of solemn years." 
 
 While yet the morning sun led on the day. 
 
160 THE WOOING OF REBECCA. 
 
 The laden camels stood in long array ; 
 And waiting for the parting sighs and tears 
 They sundered there the ties of loving years ; 
 They blessed Rebecca in a tender prayer, 
 Committing her to God's all bounteous care ; 
 " Thou art our sister ;" then they gently said , 
 " Let countless blessings fall upon tliy head ; 
 Be thou the mother of a host untold, 
 When coming ages o'er the earth have rolled , 
 And let thy seed lead on the march of time, 
 Till Jubilee shall sing its victor chime." 
 
 It was the eventide, and Isaac walked 
 And with his God and silent nature talked ; 
 Strange beauty waited on the mellow scene, 
 And twilight tinted earth with hues serene. 
 He lifted up his eyes, and o'er the plain 
 He dimly saw a slow approaching train ; 
 He waiting stood, and as it nearer drew 
 The servants aJid the camels then he knew. 
 Meanwhile, he saw a graceful form alight, 
 And veil her beauty in his wondering sight ; 
 It was Rebecca, of heroic blood. 
 Who, veiled in modesty, before him stood. 
 
 His faithful servant tiien conversed, 
 
THE WOOING OF REBECCA. 161 
 
 And in these words his conquest he rehearsed : 
 '' All hail, my master's son ! thy God hath blest 
 And brought me hence again in peace and rest ; 
 O'er desert sands far from the vales of Ur, 
 I bring a beauteous bride, and her confer 
 On thee according to thy father's word, 
 Bethuel's daughter, chosen of the Lord." 
 
 And Isaac loved Rebecca all his days, 
 
 His star of beauty, and his song of praise. [1865 
 
CHRIST STILLING THE TEMPEST. 
 
 All day the Savior sat beside the sea, 
 And taught the multitudes that gathered there, 
 
 Till evening came and spread o'er Galilee, 
 The wing of darkness on the silent air. 
 
 He bade tlie throng depart and seek their rest, 
 Wliile he retired upon the fragile bark ; 
 
 And floating o'er the water's glassy breast. 
 He sought repose while night reigned lone and dark. 
 
 " All's well," the sailor cried, as o'er the sea, 
 The evening zephyr floated sweet and mild ; 
 
 And on the ship sped joyously and free. 
 As light and buoyant as a hap])y child. 
 
CHBIST STILLING THE TEMPEST. 163 
 
 And Jesus slept ! O blessed, hallowed sleep, 
 To soothe the burden of his royal heart ; 
 
 •And loving angels gathered there to keep 
 Sweet watch, and bid the weariness depart. 
 
 But hark ! a fearful sound breaks on the ship ; 
 
 A tempest sweeps full armed across the sea ; 
 And pale and trembling is the sailor's lip, 
 
 As rise the billows wild on Galilee. 
 
 The sails are torn, the masts sway to and fro, 
 The cordage shrieks amid the howling storm, 
 
 The waters burst and fill the hold below 
 And awful fear convulses every form. 
 
 He sleeps, in peace the weary Savior sleeps, 
 For storm and calm are both alike to him; 
 
 Alike the mountains firm or surging deeps. 
 The light of day or shadows damp and dim. 
 
 Now deeper thunders roll and lightnings flash. 
 And torrents flood the trembling vessel's deck ; 
 
 While one wild billow sweeps with awful crash. 
 And threatens all the ship an instant wreck. 
 
 They wake the Master now, and cry, " O save, 
 We perish. Lord ! we perish, hear, O hear ! 
 
164 CHRIST STILLING THE TEMPEST. 
 
 Let not the billows be our lonely grave, 
 O shelter us, O save us in our fear." 
 
 Then He arose, and spaJve unto tlie sea, 
 " Peace! be thou still ; and cease O wind." 
 
 The storm recoils, his legions turn and flee, 
 And leave the waters calm and still beliind. 
 
 Again tlie stars look down with golden gleam. 
 And Jesus' name was praised upon the sea ; 
 
 And soft and lovely as an angel's dream, 
 We love this nightly tale of Galilee. 
 
 Cazenovia, July 28, 1869. 
 
 
TEARS. 
 
 'Tears are the diamonds of heaven."— Spuegeon. 
 
 Crystal tears, 
 From your fountains dark with fears, 
 Ye shall shine in brighter spheres. 
 
 Tears of pain 
 Earthward falling like the rain, 
 Ye shall bear no earthly stain, 
 When the brighter hues ye gleam 
 In the city o'er the stream. 
 Bathed in God's own light supreme. 
 
 Weeping hearts. 
 When the bitter fountain starts, 
 Forced by keen unnumbered smarts, 
 
166 TEARS. 
 
 Have ye thought 
 Of those tears in heaven re-wrought, 
 And in shining beauty brought 
 Evermore to liang in gems 
 On immortal diadems, 
 Like the dew on forest stem ? 
 
 Tears of grief. 
 Giving life its sad relief 
 From its keenest woes and chief. 
 
 O how fair, 
 Will they siiine in beauty there, 
 As the blessed victors wear 
 All the trophies of their pain, 
 Like their King with whom they reign 
 Ne'er to feel a pang again. 
 
 O if tears 
 Are the burden of the years 
 In this world of storms and fears, 
 
 Tell what hues 
 Shall on golden avenues 
 Flash like bright celestial dews, 
 Where the ransomed captives go 
 Who came up from sin and woe. 
 Leaving all their chains below. 
 
TEARS. 167 
 
 Let them fall, 
 Tears of earth, a joy for all, 
 Gems for heaven's high festival. 
 
 O ye gay, 
 Ye who sport your life away, 
 Have ye no heart to weep and pray? 
 Learn to weep with Jesus now, 
 And your teai's, ye know not how, 
 Shall be gems upon your brow. 
 
 -'^^i^mt^ 
 
HOW NEAR IS HEAVEN. 
 
 As near us as the household door, 
 Through which we outward go, 
 
 To breathe the morning's fragrance sweet, 
 Or catch its ruby glow. 
 
 We stand within life's castle here. 
 
 And sombre walls surround : 
 Sometimes a ray is glinted in — 
 
 We hear faint echoes sound. 
 
 We see our loved ones, as they ope 
 
 The mystic passage door — 
 We catch one echo of their bliss. 
 
 We see and hear no more. 
 
HOW NEAR IS HEAVEN. 169 
 
 Sometimes the rosy child at phiy, 
 
 Lays down its simple toys, 
 And wanders mid enchanted bowers, 
 
 And sings mid fadeless joys. 
 
 Sometimes the aged, weary one, 
 
 Lies down in slumber sweet — 
 The waking is celestial morn. 
 
 And long lost voices greet. 
 
 Just on the river's other side, 
 
 The ransomed, shining stand, 
 The morning mist but hides the view, 
 
 And that is heaven's land. 
 
 O, heaven is not far away ; 
 
 The lowly place of prayer, 
 Is just beneath the jasper wall, 
 
 And angels linger there. 
 
 Where'er we wander in life's maze, 
 
 We stand in heaven's portal, 
 The pearly gates are but ajar, 
 
 That hide the view immortal. 
 
TRANSLATION OF ENOCH. 
 
 Dim distant years, so near the source of time 
 When he, the seventli one from Adam, lived ; 
 Only the landmarks of those ages stand 
 Like summits rising from the primal Seas, 
 Wliieh show tne trace of ancient tides, with shells 
 And pebbles left along the olden shores. 
 While ocean wrestles now in narrower bounds; 
 Or, hides within her caverns secrets deej). 
 To lie in future time on sunny slopes 
 For higli savans to read, and ponder well. 
 
 As reads the scientist of cycles vast 
 By tooth of mastodon, or fossil print 
 Of monster on the olden sand, so we 
 Take up the records brief; diviner hints 
 Of those high solitary years, when God 
 Began the grander work of grace and love. 
 
TRANSLATION OF ENOCH. 171 
 
 The few fond words of Enoch tell 
 Sublimest chaptei*s in the lore of man ; 
 He saw and knew the father of the race, 
 And he perhaps a child at Adam's knee 
 Climbed up to listen to the tales of old ; 
 And it may be that Eve in age took up 
 The tender child and taught him holy prayer, 
 And charmed him with the memories which clung 
 To her sad soul of Eden and its joy. 
 She told him of the promise, cherished long. 
 Which, God forgiving gave her in her tears • 
 And knew perhaps by prophecy, that he 
 Was in the golden chain of royal ones 
 From whom at last Messiah should come forth. 
 She told him of her Abel, first to go 
 Through gates immortal to the skies beyond ; 
 And his young heai't was ravished with desire 
 To climb the alluring heights of faith; assured 
 That just behind the mists that hide the view 
 The land immortal sjiread, a waiting land 
 For millions yet to come from paths of earth. 
 He talked with those who once had talked with God, 
 And listened to tlie first fond lesson told 
 In that rare dialect in which the Lord 
 And man together first conversed. He drank 
 
172 TRANSLATION OP ENOCH. 
 
 At wisdom's fountain pure, and in the light 
 
 Of God and truth aspired to heiglits of life 
 
 Divine. "With few or many comrades still 
 
 We may not know. But evil prowled o'er earth. 
 
 He saw its curse. Himself was tried. He felt 
 
 The tempter's power. To walk with God was then 
 
 As now. A consecrated life, a heart 
 
 Made pure at healing fountains opened when 
 
 From the foundation of the world the Lamb 
 
 Of God was slain. By faith he walked, as all 
 
 Must walk through all the realms of doubt and fear. 
 
 And so his ways pleased God. Men saw the light 
 
 Of his calm, blessed life ; and like a tower 
 
 He stood invincible, a shaft of strength 
 
 That pointed to the skies, and in the midst 
 
 Of men rose beautiful as if of gems 
 
 And polished gold the fabric had been wrought. 
 
 It was the noon of life with him. His form erect, 
 
 His soul acquaint with mysteries of God, 
 
 Familiar with creations tale, a priest of God, 
 
 Elect, profound, companion of I am ; 
 
 And still a man of tender heart, with tears 
 
 For sorrow's tale and words of wisdom j^ure 
 
 For erring ones ; the joy of children who 
 
 Delighted listened to his winning words. 
 
TRANSLATION OF ENOCH. 173 
 
 At once a strange unearthly brightness came, 
 The Angel of the covenant drew near : 
 " Rise! leave tliy native realm," he said. " Go not 
 Tlie way of all the earth. The gates of death 
 Thou shalt not see. A golden throne let down 
 Is here. Ascend and take thy seat just now. 
 And bands cherubic, with celestial songs, 
 Shall lift thee in attending flight, till thou 
 Shalt hear the welcome at the gate of pearl." 
 
 He saw the earth recede, till, like a star, 
 
 It faded on his sight, and then the gleam 
 
 Of jasper on his vision broke ; above 
 
 The sapphire hues of beauty fell, and then 
 
 The chalcedony and the emerald. 
 
 With blended rays, transfixed his wondering eye, 
 
 And amethyst, that sparkled evermore 
 
 In God's own light, and this tlie welcome song : 
 
 " Come home to the realms of the holy 
 Caught up in thy beautiful throne, 
 
 Come home from the land of the lowly, 
 Thou blessed, beatified one. 
 
 Bright spirits we've welcomed, but e'er 
 They came by the valley so cold, ••■ 
 
174 TEANf*LATION OF ENOCH. 
 
 They passed from the dark rolliug river, 
 And entered the city of gold. 
 
 Ah, never in heaven's bright story, 
 
 Came one like a monarch before, 
 And deathless ascended to glory, 
 
 Nor passed through the sepulcher's door ; 
 Sing, angels that stand at the portals, 
 
 Ye throngs on the pavements of gold ; 
 Ah never such honor had mortals 
 
 Translated ye seraphs behold !" 
 
 No grave they made for him of rock out-hewn, 
 They only told this wondrous tale to men, 
 "That he was not," God took him as he was. 
 
 1875. 
 
THE PHANTOM LAKE 
 
 Across a Nubian desert drear 
 
 They trod, a soldier band ; 
 An Arab guide before them went 
 
 To lead their path of sand. 
 
 No bold and barren rock uprose 
 To give them friendly shade ; 
 
 No green oasis charmed their sight, 
 With grass or shrub arrayed. 
 
 Brass heavens above— hot sands beneath- 
 They drooped forlorn and faint, 
 
 And moaned in agony of thirst 
 Their wild and sad complaint. 
 
176 THE PHANTOM LAKE. 
 
 Far from their path, in sudden view, 
 A crystal lalve outspread, 
 
 And calm and cool it seemed to lie, 
 In its own valley bed. 
 
 As if a dream of heaven came. 
 They turned with joy elate. 
 
 If haply they might reach the brink, 
 Ere death should be their fate. 
 
 "Nay," said the faithful Arab guide, 
 " It is a phantom sight ; 
 
 'Tis but the 'mirage' false and fair, 
 That spreads in silver white." 
 
 The soldiers heeded not his words, 
 And mocked his warnings kind ; 
 
 Still he refused to leave the path. 
 Which they no more might find. 
 
 They fell upon him in their rage, 
 And slew him on the sand, 
 
 And left his silent form to bleach, 
 In that lone, desert land. 
 
THE PHANTOM LAKE. 177 
 
 In crystal brightness still it spread, 
 
 That charmed and silver lake ; 
 And on the verge of death they pressed, 
 
 Their horrid thirst to slake. 
 
 The bright hope goads their fainting hearts, 
 
 And speeds their blistering feet ; 
 While fiercer glows the desert sun 
 
 With its bewildering heat. 
 
 Their steps grow short, but come not near 
 
 The cool and crystal sea ; 
 When suddenly the vision breaks 
 
 Where wastes of sand may be. 
 
 Alas, alas, they droop and faint 
 
 In wild and keen despair ; 
 And waste their words of anguish low, 
 
 Upon the desert air. 
 
 Lost !' lost ! their murdered guide 
 
 Can lead them never back ; 
 Like him they sleep in silence now, 
 
 Upon their phantom track. 
 
178 THE PHANTOM LAKE. 
 
 O there was One, who meekly stood 
 
 In our life's desert way, 
 To point tlie nations to a land, 
 
 Where ceaseless fountains play. 
 
 The phantom, sin, lay on tlie earth, 
 
 A false, illusive chai'm, 
 And hid the burning wastes of crime, 
 
 And mocked at God's alarm. 
 
 They slew the "Just One" as he stood 
 
 Firm in his royal patli ; 
 And mad with sin's infernal thirst. 
 
 They smote liim in tlieir wratli. 
 
 He slept, but O he woke again, 
 And lives our guide to be, 
 
 To lead the tliirsty nations on 
 To life's eternal sea. 
 
 O ye in whom immortal thirst 
 Hath left its yearning pain, 
 
 Look not upon life's desert waste 
 To be revived again. 
 
THE PHANTOM LAKE. 179 
 
 The "mirage" false spreads out afar, 
 
 To tempt thy deep soul's thirst ; 
 Before thy lips shall quaff the joy 
 
 The scene shall be reversed. 
 
 And thou shalt tread the desert still ; 
 
 With deeper thirstings burn ; 
 Or lay thee down in sad despair, 
 
 And never more return. 
 
 •' The Spirit and the Bride say come," 
 
 And Christ the living Guide 
 Will lead thee to the fountain pure, 
 
 Once opened in his side. 
 
CLASS TREE PLANTING. 
 
 Eead at Iloughtou Suiiiinary, Clinton, N. Y. 
 
 Upon its lieights of green, stands Houghton fuir, 
 Our village pride, a gem of beauty rare ; 
 We wonder not, that learning chose her seat, 
 Within this charmed and beautiful retreat ; 
 Its look-out on the wooded hills beyond, 
 Or homes that nestled in their bowers fond. 
 The sweet Oriskany that winding flows, 
 And sings its ancient rythm as it goes, 
 And tells of Indian story, strange and old. 
 Of dusky maid and i^aiuted warrior bold ; 
 All these are scenes, flt for a classic eye. 
 And friend and stranger own the ecstaey. 
 Not prouder is yon towering liill of fame. 
 E'en though it gives our land a richer name ; 
 
CLAPS TREE PLANTING. 181 
 
 Yon classic lords that look from hoary walls, 
 
 And feel the conscious glory of those halls, 
 
 Can boast no quicker feet to climb Parnassus height, 
 
 Than trip along these walks with true delight. 
 
 From these green bowers as gorgeous fancies rise, 
 
 And winged thought, as quickly cleaves the skies, 
 
 As from yon graver scenes of studious toil, 
 
 Where candidates for fame burn midnight oil; 
 
 A new competitor in life's stern race 
 
 Is found in woman now, and she shall have her place. 
 
 Ye fair ones in these honored halls, to you 
 
 Is given to show what woman here can do ; 
 
 On, on, we bid you to the greenest heights of fame, 
 
 And let fair hands carve each a loyal name 
 
 Upon the summit of life's great success, 
 
 And writing, drink the wine of blessedness. 
 
 And as the springs and autumns come and go, 
 
 And summer beauty alternates with snow, 
 
 O let this tree in greenest beauty rise, 
 
 A shrine of glad and holy memorias ; 
 
 And when in Time's great temple, fame, its proudest 
 name shall fix, 
 
 No fairer ones be there than Houghton's Class of Sixty- 
 six. 
 
 Tune 4, 1866. 
 
-THE SHADOW KISS. 
 
 Have ye not looked upon the walls of stone, 
 That rise above the clatter of the street, 
 
 When droops the convict in his cell alone, 
 Or bends at weary work in his retreat ? 
 
 And have ye thought within those somber walls 
 No plants of love or sweet aflection grew ; 
 
 And over all except those gloomy halls 
 God shed the fragrance of his loving dew ? 
 
 Not all of love and beauty dwells outside. 
 Nor all of hate and sin inside the gate, 
 
 Where Justice ermined, stern and dignified, 
 Preserves the peace and order of the State. 
 
 This little tale of prison life, to me. 
 
 Came like a breath of fragrance from the gloom, 
 In which the cold world little cares to see 
 
 The iiowers which, shadow-covered, give i:)erfume. 
 
THE SHADOW KISS. 183 
 
 Upon his eoucli he lay, a pale young form, 
 And one might read upon his care-worn face 
 
 The earlier touches of affection warm, 
 And marks of classic culture and of grace. 
 
 A home of ease across the sea was iiis 
 In cliildhood years, wliere only love he knew, 
 
 And grew a rosy boy, blest with tlie kiss 
 No otlier lips but mothers i)rint so true. 
 
 Strayed from his mother's side, tlie years had told 
 The oft-recurring tale of youth misled ; 
 
 On fierce temptation's tide he, uncontrolled, 
 Had wrecked ; the same old story often read. 
 
 And so he felt the pain of folly's smart,— 
 The prisoner's round of table, toil and cell, 
 
 For weary months, from friends and home apart. 
 And long regrets no burdened heart may tell. 
 
 He drooped and sank, emaciate and pale, 
 And liis youug soul, bewildered, wandered leack 
 
 To childhood haunts, of hill and stream and dale, 
 From whence he took his sad, divergent track. 
 
 Tliey watclaed his dreamy footsteps, as he walked 
 Amid the scenes which memory sacred held ; 
 
184 THE SHADOW KISS. 
 
 And heai'd the wanderer as he fondly talked 
 With loves of home, by fevered brain impelled. 
 
 They saw, those watchers by his bed of pain, 
 The sweet illusion play upon his face 
 
 Of fond affection, in his home again, 
 As friends and loved ones came to his embrace. 
 
 From out the darkness of his brain she came — 
 His mother — there; he s w her visioned form. 
 
 As if in tenderest tones she spoke his name, 
 
 And looked on him in love's own sunshine warm. 
 
 He reached his pale, thin hands to clasp her near. 
 And drew her sweet face closely down to his ; 
 
 He stroked her hair from her soft brow so dear, 
 And pressed her lips in many a fondling kiss. 
 
 It seemed a sweet oblation, lavish poured, 
 For her he grieved so long, yet loved so well ; 
 
 Poor wayward son — what wealtii of love deep stored 
 Was his in that last hour of life to tell. 
 
 Then cold and still— and yet the sweet smile clung 
 To those pale lips, that gave their shadow kiss ; 
 
 As if a mother's love-dream o'er him hung, 
 A sweet remembrance of his boyhood bliss. 
 
THE SHADOW KISS. 185 
 
 O holy motherhood ! what ties are thine ; 
 
 The stormy seas of passion and of sin 
 Drown not the echoes of thy voice divine ; 
 
 Thy love bursts prison doors and enters in. 
 
 But I of love diviner still would tell ; 
 
 Where Jesus waits to hear each prisoner's sigh ; 
 And maketh light the lonely dungeon cell, 
 
 And comes Himself in love and blessing nigh. 
 
 When o'er our eyes the cold death mist shall fall, 
 Though we have grieved Him long and sad and sore, 
 
 May we behold His form, more dear than all, 
 And dwell with Him at home forevermore. 
 
 ♦The following letter is introduced as a history of the above poem. 
 
 Chaplain's Office, Aububn Prison, 
 
 Auburn, N. Y., February 9th, 1871 
 
 Rev. Dwight Williams- 
 Dear Sir : — There died in this prison, during the past week, a young 
 man of good parts, member of a highly respectable family in another land, 
 and who became involved in the meshes of the law through moral irresolu. 
 lion rather than innate depravity. His thoughts, which had wandered 
 much during the latter days, on the last one of all centered upon his home, 
 and he imagined that the most eager wish of hi.s heart in this extremity 
 had been realized, and that his loving mother soothed his dying bed. A 
 few moments before his soul took flight, he raised himself slightly, and 
 extending his attenuated arm, drew down close to his lips the shadow con- 
 jured from his own fond affections, while with a look of ineffable content 
 glorifying his palid features, his last breath was surrendered (as he thought) 
 to the parent who bore him. 
 
 It occurred to me that in some leisure, and otherwise favorable, moment, 
 your muse might not disdain to invest this touching picture (so briefly and 
 feebly depicted) with a frame of words worthy of its beauty and significance. 
 Kespectfully, A. 
 
A STORY OF THE WAR. 
 
 I heard a tale, upon a time, 
 Which hilled me as a tender chime, 
 And stirred my thoughts to shapes of rhyme; — 
 A little waif of history, 
 Which floating by, too precious seemed to drop and die. 
 
 And so I caught it on the wing. 
 And I will let the prisoner sing 
 Out of my own heart's listening ; — 
 A tale of freedom, and the time 
 When hate and crime struck at the nation's life sublime. 
 
 A Northern boy, of humble birth. 
 And nurtured at a christian hearth, 
 The purest, deai'est spot of earth. 
 Turned from his native hills and streams. 
 By boyish dreams allured, and fortunes fairy schemes. 
 
A STORY OF THE WAR. 187 
 
 On him his sire a blessing prayed, 
 And on his head his mother laid 
 Her soft white hand, befoi'e he strayed ; 
 And from the mist of loving tears 
 To sterner years he passed, and untried storms and fears. 
 
 A southern city by the sea, 
 Proud in its boasted chivalry, 
 He chose his future home to be ; 
 And in the faith of purpose true, 
 As best he knew, he here resolved to dare and do. 
 
 At length the fire on Sumter fell ; 
 And southern hate and rebel shell 
 Tore down the flag we love so well ; 
 And Cavalier, and Slavocrat 
 In conclave sat, and all their patriot love forgot. 
 
 They drove secession's bolt amain 
 To cleave our blessed land in twain, 
 And foster slavery's cruel reign ; 
 And higher rose the fiery cloud, 
 Till like a shroud it spread the heavens, with thunders 
 loud. 
 
188 A STORY OF THE WAR. 
 
 Forth went conscription's order then, 
 To city full and mountain glen, 
 To fill the rebel ranks with men ; 
 And many a noble, manly form, 
 With impulse warm, was forced to join the rebel swarm. 
 
 And so this union-hearted lad 
 Was siezed, and as a rebel clad, 
 For strife which all his heart forbade. 
 They forced his young, unwilling liand, 
 With harsh command, to take and bear secession's brand. 
 
 A muffled heart he carried out 
 To droop amid the rebel's shout. 
 And throb between his hope and doubt. 
 The days were long, and more and more 
 His heart grew sore, beneath the hated garb he wore. 
 
 The "Lone Star" led the rebel ranks 
 Across Potomac's storied banks, 
 In haste to stand against the " Yanks. " 
 Along the front the fires of hate 
 Burned long and late, and camp-lights flashed from State 
 to State. 
 
A STORY OF THE WAR. 189 
 
 Months passed away of soldier life, 
 And heavier hung his battle knife, 
 Reluctant in the fearful strife. 
 Till they at Harper's Ferry stood, 
 Wliose rolling flood was stained that day by battle blood. 
 
 A capture crowns the day elate. 
 And ranks of rebel prisoners wait 
 For transport to a distant state ; 
 Among them is our union lad. 
 Though rebel clad, a sweet hope comes to make him glad. 
 
 Northward they move the captured band. 
 To wait exchange by high command ; 
 And wide the news spread o'er the land ; 
 The father read his own son's name 
 With heart aflame, and joy thrilled through his agea 
 frame. 
 
 By steam and rail he flew with speed 
 To seek his prisoner boy in need ; 
 Or, better still, again to lead 
 His dear one o'er the threshold low, 
 Where he might know the love he felt so long ago. 
 
190 A STORY OF THE WAR 
 
 In vain he sought to see his boy ; 
 "Red tape" was wanting his employ, 
 And cold repulse chilled all his joy. 
 And still the boy his heart-ache kept, 
 Or silent wept, a prisoner as he waked or slept. 
 
 The father turned away to feel 
 How strong and cold are guards of steel, 
 And wrong endured without appeal. 
 But love is strong to win its way. 
 To work and pray, or wait in anxious, long delay. 
 
 The " War Department" sure, he thought. 
 Would aid him in the work he sought; 
 Nor waited he until he brought 
 His grief and told officials high ; 
 But no reply relieved his waiting agony. 
 
 Two weary weeks in Washington 
 He toiled and plead for his dear one ; 
 But every ear seemed deaf like stone. 
 His heart within beat sad and low 
 With his own woe ; God only saw his teardrops flow. 
 
 " Say, have you seen the President?" 
 A friend inquired with kind intent, 
 
A STORY OF THE WAR. 191 
 
 To whom be gave his feelings vent. 
 "In vain, in vain, it may not be ; 
 He will not see a plain and humble man like me." 
 
 " Go, go at early morn, and wait," 
 He said, "within the White House gate, 
 And tarry till the evening late 
 If need shall be ; nor leave the place 
 Till, face to face, you represent to him your case." 
 
 Next morning saw the old man go 
 To mingle with the ebb and flow 
 That thronged the "White House," high and low; 
 In shoulder straps and gloves they came, 
 And men of fame, each one to press his urgent claim. 
 
 A dear old man, witji silver hair, 
 And brow that told of love and care. 
 And heart beneath of trust and prayer ; 
 He saw the living, moving throng 
 That jjassed along, and they went in, the great and strong. 
 
 The morning passed, the noon was high, 
 And still the crowd went surging by ; 
 The sun turned slowly down the sky. 
 And still he waited till the lamp 
 Of street and camp, shone out upon the evening dam] 
 
192 A STORY OF THE WAR. 
 
 The last faint footfall died away, 
 And he alone was seen to stay, 
 So sad and weary by delay. 
 " This moment, quick !" the usher said, 
 With nod of head, and to the door the old man led. 
 
 He passed within, alone, alone ; 
 A poor and friendless man, unknown, 
 To tell a sorrow all his own. 
 Those walls of power seemed cold and high, 
 And o'er his eye the mists of doubt and fear whirled by. 
 
 There sat the weary President, 
 His head upon the table bent. 
 From that day's toil incessant spent; 
 And brain and heart alike were sore. 
 For more and more his soul the nation's burden bore. 
 
 And he had listened long and late 
 To griefs of war, and needs of state 
 And all the wrongs of Southern hate. 
 The old man stood before him there. 
 And weighed with care, he sank and sobbed within a 
 chair 
 
 " What matters thee ! my good man, say ?" 
 The great man spake in kindly way ; 
 
A STORY OF THE WAR. 193 
 
 " Tell me your trouble all, I pray !" 
 Assured, as these kind words were said, 
 He raised his head, and for his suffering boy he plead. 
 
 " The words you say may all be true, 
 My dear old man ; but not a few 
 Repeat the tale I hear from you." 
 He drew his pai3ers from his vest, 
 Wore near his breast, his truth of statement to attest. 
 
 "I cannot read them now," he said; 
 " I'm weary with these piles I've read ; 
 Nay, let me talk with you instead. 
 Draw up your chair, and sit just here." 
 The two so near, the tale was told 'twixt hope and fear. 
 
 He seemed to read the old man's face ; 
 Looked in his eyes and saw the trace 
 Of honest purpose and of grace. 
 " I cannot think you false," said he; 
 " And I will see if I can set your dear boy free." 
 
 With heart to kindness all devote, 
 He seized his pen and quickly wrote, 
 And thus it read, a Spartan note : 
 
 " At my command discharge Charles L . 
 
 A. Lincoln." Tell ye that can what rapture fell, 
 
194 A STORY OF THE WAR. 
 
 What sunlight broke across his soul, 
 What tears adown those worn cheeks stole, 
 What joy of heart beyond control; 
 The old man saw the dark cloud lift. 
 And through the rift his boy restored, God's precious gift. 
 
 He took the order of release, 
 And spoke a prayer of hallowed peace, 
 Of blessings, rich, and long increase, 
 Upon the nation's honored chief ; 
 Fond words and brief; then left the shadows of his grief. 
 
 Across the tesselated floor 
 , The old nian passed, and at the door 
 He heard the same kind voice once more : 
 " Come back, my friend ! a moment stay ; 
 Just let me say, if you have trouble or delay. 
 
 Come back and let me know, that's all !" 
 And Lincoln turned, and down the hall 
 Passed musing of the day's last call ; 
 And to his evening cheer he went 
 To feel content, a nobler man and President. 
 
 No understrapper at the door 
 Turns back the old man as before, 
 And he walks on from floor to floor, 
 
A STORY OF THE WAB. 195 
 
 Past guard and clerk, to Stanton's chair ; 
 And offers there his statement, with assured air. 
 
 His papers read, and found correct, 
 His order jjlaced on file and cliecJSed, 
 Tliey wrote "discliarged ;" and he erect. 
 Went forth to fly with love's own haste, 
 Till he embraced and bore his boy from prison waste. 
 
 And home and freedom blest once more 
 The precious boy, long crushed and sore ; 
 And from his tender form they tore 
 His rebel garb ; and fond and true, 
 Sweet peace he knew, beneath his own "Red, White and 
 Blue." 
 
LOTTIE DOUGHERTY. 
 
 "Died, Lottie Dougherty," to-day 
 The papers said, " M ville, N. J," 
 
 Though her's a humble name, 
 
 She won a martyr's fame, 
 To live as years shall roll away. 
 
 All day she sat in humble toil, 
 And touched the wires with magic coil; 
 And from her fingers quick 
 The flashes, click ! click! click! 
 Told tales of pleasure or of spoil. 
 
 " On time," or " late," each train she knesv. 
 And told the moment it was due ; 
 
 And thus she served the throng 
 
 That whirled each day along, 
 Known only by a loving few. 
 
LOTTIE DOUGHERTY. 197 
 
 One eve a storm came crashing down, 
 And whirled in frenzy through the town ; 
 
 And in its onward glee 
 
 It rent an ancient tree, 
 That fell before its awful frown, 
 
 " Across the track !" the girl they told, 
 It lay with broken trunk and old ; 
 
 The " Express" was nearly due. 
 
 It flashed her quick brain through, 
 And then her heart grew faint and cold. 
 
 On, on it came, with heart of fire. 
 The steed whose muscles never tire; 
 
 And maid and matron sat 
 
 And talked of this and that, 
 Or dreamed of friends with fond desire. 
 
 Men lounged within the palace car, 
 And laughed to see the winds at war; 
 
 What if the surging rain 
 
 Had flooded vale and plain. 
 They dreamed no danger near or far. 
 
 But ah, that timid girl, her soul 
 Springs from its fear beyond control ; 
 
198 LOTTIE DOUGHERTY. 
 
 A hundred lives are hei's ; 
 Her bosom heaves and stirs, — 
 Strange fears across her vision roll. 
 
 She seizes quick the signal light, 
 And rushes like a fairy sprite, 
 
 Out through the storm and dark ; 
 
 She swings the " Red Light." Hark ! 
 The whistle shrielvs the wild affright. 
 
 Down brakes! reverse the engine wheels !1 
 Cold pallor o'er each visage steals ; 
 They curb the iron steed, 
 And with its slackening speed 
 A calm relief each bosom feels. 
 
 Not quite it halts ; it strikes a limb 
 And thrusts it through the shadows dim 
 Against her slender form, 
 Who braves the night and storm 
 To shut the jaws of death so grim. 
 
 She falls, a bruised and bleeding one; 
 And sad and tearful ej'^es look on 
 To see her shattered frame ; 
 
LOTTIE DOUGHERTY. 199 
 
 They ask the brave girl's name, 
 Who risked her all for them unknown. 
 
 And grateful men and women fair 
 A present offer then and there; 
 
 And to her hand they jjress 
 
 The gift in her distress 
 To soothe her in her pain and care. 
 
 But no ; for her reward alone 
 
 Is love's own work and duty done; 
 
 With tliis alone content 
 
 She yieldeth not consent ; 
 A joy to selfish souls unknown. 
 
 They bore her home that evening hour, 
 To wither like a summer flower, 
 
 Until, in silent rest, 
 
 Soft folded on her breast, 
 Her brave white hands forgot their power. 
 
 Brave hands that swung the signal light 
 And stopped the death-march of that night ; 
 
 What tales were never told 
 
 What wreck of life and gold 
 Her courage hid from human sight. 
 
200 LOTTIE DOUGHERTY. 
 
 Write high these humble deeds of love ; 
 These lowly heroes, how they move 
 
 Along our paths unseen, 
 
 To shine at length serene 
 On memory's greener heights above 
 
 
AMONG THE THOUSAND ISLANDS. 
 
 It is no more a dream ; 
 I've seen the gleam 
 Of sunset dance upon thy stream, 
 St. Lawrence, with thine isles impearled. The scene 
 Spread beautiful and blent with gold and green, 
 From woody crown to level water sheen. 
 And seemed a kingdom rare, 
 
 Whose quiet air 
 Was full of beauty, and of prayer. 
 
 How long in virgin pride, 
 
 Unglorified, 
 These bowers bloomed, these waters sighed, 
 W^as never written In the strains of art ; 
 No tradesmen came from distant crowded mart, 
 No pilgrim paused of sad and weary heart. 
 Tall forms of dusky hue. 
 
 With light canoe, 
 Were all these sylvan shadows knew. 
 
202 4MONG THE THOUSAND ISLANDS. 
 
 Enchanted islands these ; 
 O'er lands and seas, 
 From homes of toil, and haunts of ease, 
 They come in pilgrim throngs to find retreat; 
 E'rom busy care, and life's wild sultry heat, 
 To press the earth with quicker, lighter feet. 
 Till duty's task again. 
 
 Of heart and brain. 
 The toilers seek with happier strain. 
 
 Here reigns the Summer queen, 
 
 With royal mein. 
 And builds on rocks her throne of green ; 
 An empire of delight is hers to rule ; 
 With banner spreading broad and beautiful 
 She fans the noontide with her zephyrs cool. 
 Here days delicious glide. 
 
 Where rii^pling tide. 
 And sylvan shore their charms divide. 
 
 Did not God's loving hand, 
 With carving grand, 
 
 Mark out this Kingdom by command ; 
 And hoarded all this beauty for the eyes, 
 That here should come, and look with long surprise 
 
AMONG THE THOUSAND ISLANDS. 203 
 
 Beneath these cahn and crystal canopies? 
 And built He not His shrine 
 
 By skill divine, 
 With marv'lous beauty long to shine? 
 
 And we have come to praise 
 
 In humble lays, 
 The treasured charms of ancient days. 
 Our God was here, and beauty dwelt with Him, 
 And wrought these pictures out of chaos dim. 
 When He descended from the cherubim ; 
 And spread His royal tent 
 With stars besprent, 
 Where still He reigns with power unspent. 
 
 O crystal bays and coves ! 
 
 O island groves I 
 Where still the soul of beauty roves ; 
 These waters gleam with God's dear smile the same, 
 These rocks record the mighty Builder's fame, 
 These zephyrs waft His Son's transcendant name ; 
 And bending low His ear. 
 
 He waits to hear 
 The whispers of His children dear. 
 
204 AMONG THE THOUSAND ISLANDS. 
 
 Historic stream ; I tread, 
 
 A captive led 
 Amid thy feasts of beauty spread. 
 I turn the gateway of my soul, and gaze 
 Down through your vales where soft the sunshine play; 
 Until your gems reflect the golden blaze; 
 And with an art unknown, 
 
 I trace alone, 
 And hold the picture all my own. 
 
 I see a broader stream ; 
 
 In gorgeous dream, 
 Where everlasting islands gleam ; 
 And while St. Lawrence fades in evening mist, 
 I see the crest of isles with glory kissed. 
 And palaces with walls of amethyst, 
 
 There dwells the Father's Son, 
 
 And tribes he won, 
 And there His Kingdom is begun. 
 
 I see the piers of gold 
 
 Where throngs untold 
 
 Drop anchor from the billows cold. 
 There are the islands of the Evermore ; 
 And morning songs resound the waters o'er; 
 
AMONG THK THOUSAND ISLANDS. 205 
 
 And isle responds to isle, and shore to shore. 
 O long, long summer time ; 
 
 O years sublime; 
 O islands of the blessed clime ! 
 
 Beyond St. Lawrence tide, 
 Where mists divide 
 
 The parting from the meeting side, ^ 
 
 They are our island homes ; the Father smiles, 
 And O, the beauty of His Son beguiles, 
 And woos us to the everlasting isles. 
 
 Up ! pilgrims to your rest ; 
 Tis God's behest ; 
 
 Be yours the islands of the blest. 
 Aug. 3, 1875, 
 
JUST OVER THE MOUNTAIN. 
 
 I read of a lovelier clime 
 
 Than earth, with its summer array — 
 Beyond the dark mountains of time 
 
 It stretches in beauty away ! 
 The smile of our God is the light 
 
 That giveth the hue of its flowers, 
 And mantles each beauty-crowned height 
 
 With sunlight more tranquil than ours. 
 
 Just over the mountain it lies, 
 The sweet summer land of the soul : 
 
 And O, 'neath those beautiful skies, 
 No storm cloud of trouble shall roll. 
 
 A pilgrim and stranger I roam 
 
 In search of that country afar ; 
 I read of a mansion, my home, 
 
 For beauty as bright as a star, 
 
JirST OVER THE MOUNTAIN. 207 
 
 The city prepared of our God 
 
 Hath dwellers within it I know ; 
 Familiar its streets are now trod 
 
 Bj' those I have loved here below. 
 
 Just over the mountain it lies, 
 
 And often in visions I see 
 The house of my Father arise — 
 
 The home of my kindred and me. 
 
 I journey by faith o'er the hills, 
 
 I wind through the valleys below, 
 I sing 'mid the storms and the ills 
 
 Which pilgrims must suffer and know. 
 O, shall I, some bright sunny morn, 
 
 Look down from the summit of bliss; 
 A pilgrim to angelhood born, 
 
 Escaped to that country from this? 
 
 Just over the mountain it lies, 
 And there is the home of my heart. 
 
 The sight of it gladdens my eyes, 
 And biddeth my sorrow depart. 
 
 And shall I the city behold, 
 
 Whose builder and maker is God ; 
 Whose walls are of jasper and gold. 
 
208 JUST OVER THE MOUNTAIN. 
 
 Whose streets by the angels are trod ? 
 Shall I through the emerald gate, 
 
 From earth and its desert of sin, 
 Pass on to my angel estate, 
 
 Witli Jesus forever shut in ? 
 
 Just over the mountain it lies, 
 My home in the valley below; 
 
 And O, what a joyful surprise 
 To catch the first sight of its glow ! 
 
 A pilgrim and stranger confessed, 
 
 I look to the mountain of light, 
 From whence the sweet land of the blest, 
 
 The Canaan I seek, is in sight. 
 O Jesus, my Savior and guide, 
 
 I follow thy dear thorny road. 
 Till with thee I safely abide 
 
 At home in the land of our God. 
 
 Just over the mountain it lies; 
 
 Contented and happy I roam. 
 Till, dropping this frail mortal guise, 
 
 I stand in the light of my home. 
 
DAVID AND GOLIATH. 
 
 A POEM FOR CHILDREN. 
 
 When David was a tender lad 
 
 He kejit his fatlier's sheep, 
 And led tliem through the quiet vales, 
 
 Or ou the hill sides steejj. 
 
 He was a ruddy boy and fair, 
 
 So writes the scribe of old ; 
 And Jesse was his father's name, 
 
 Un famed for power or gold, 
 
 Who humbly dwelt in Bethlehem, 
 
 And seven sons beside, 
 Grew up to manhood in his house, 
 
 On whom he looked with pride. 
 
 And they were strong in form and limb, 
 And in the wars of Saul, 
 
210 DAVID AND GOLIATH. 
 
 They went as soldiers out to figlit 
 Against the giants tall. 
 
 But David, like a loving boy. 
 
 Kept near his mother's sight ; 
 The youngest of her gallant brood, 
 
 He was her heart's delight. 
 
 He wore a simiDle shepherd's dress, 
 And held a shepherd's crook ; 
 
 And like the boys of farm and home 
 He had a rustic look. 
 
 And as he went to watch the sheep 
 
 He took his harp along ; 
 And passed the weary hours away 
 
 With music and with song. 
 
 Perhaps, dear children, you have read 
 The charming tale of Ruth, 
 
 Who gleaned the wheat in Boaz' fields, 
 A gentle maid of truth. 
 
 I cannot say, it may be so. 
 
 When David was a child 
 She may have taught him loving words. 
 
 And actions true and mild. 
 
DAVID AND GOLIATH. 211 
 
 He called her "Grandmamma" no doubt, 
 
 For such she was to him ; 
 Perhaps he led her by the hand 
 
 When old, her eyes were dim. 
 
 One day when David went afar 
 
 To watch and guard the sheep. 
 He saw a lion with surprise. 
 
 Out of a thiclvet leap. 
 
 It sprang and seized a tender lamb 
 
 And held it in his jaws ; 
 For lions are so strong you know. 
 
 With shaggy mane and paws. 
 
 But David loved his lamb too well 
 
 To see it thus a prey, 
 And with a bludgeon smote the beast. 
 
 And snatched the lamb away. 
 
 ,The lion turned in awful rage 
 
 To crush the daring boy ; 
 And fierce his eyes, and firm his teeth. 
 
 To seize him and destroy. 
 
 But David caught him by the beard 
 And slew him then and there ; 
 
212 DAVID AND GOLIATH. 
 
 God gave him strength, and thus it was 
 That he the boy did spare. 
 
 Another day an army came, 
 
 And on a mount hard by 
 Their snowy tents were seen to spread, 
 
 With banners waving high. 
 
 Tliese were tlie proud Pliilistines, who 
 
 The living God defied ; 
 And sent tlieir cliampion out to fight, 
 
 And Israel's liost divide. 
 
 Day after day he came and stood, 
 
 A giant proud and tall, 
 And sent his challenge for a man 
 
 From out the hosts of Saul. 
 
 Upon another mountain near 
 
 The host of Israel stood, 
 Who saw the giant every day 
 
 In haughty attitude. 
 
 As David came, with loaves of bread. 
 And measures of parched corn 
 
 For soldier brothers in the camp ; 
 He heard those words of scorn. 
 
DAVID AND GOLIATH. 213 
 
 He looked upon the giant bold, 
 
 Six cubits and a span ; 
 His spear was like a weaver's beam, 
 
 The i^roudest of the van. 
 
 And he a lad, a shepherd boy, 
 
 Without a sword or spear ; 
 But still with all the giant's might, 
 
 He felt of him no fear. 
 
 He told Eliab of his thought, 
 
 His elder brother there, 
 And how he wished that he might go, 
 
 And bold Goliath dare. 
 
 " Thou naughty boy !" Eliab said, 
 
 " Why hast thou left the sheep? 
 To see the battle hast thou come ? 
 
 Better at home to keep." 
 
 He told another of his thought, 
 
 Who bore the words to Saul ; 
 The monarch thought it very strange, 
 
 And quick the lad did call. 
 
 " Send me !" said David, " I will go 
 And this Philistine meet; 
 
314 DAVID AND GOLIATH. 
 
 For why should this reproach be ours, 
 And our disgrace complete?" 
 
 " Put on this armour, boy, and go," 
 The monarch said to him ; 
 
 And with a heavy coat of mail 
 They covered breast and limb. 
 
 They girt a sword upon his thigh, 
 A helmet crowned his head ; 
 
 But ah, too heavy for the lad, 
 They seemed for weight like lead. 
 
 " Take off this helmet!" David cried, 
 " Take off this coat of mail ! 
 
 And lay this sword and scabbard by, 
 I cannot thus prevail. 
 
 My shepherd sling !— I know its aim, 
 
 This, only this, for me, 
 And as I go do ye but pray, 
 
 Till ye salvation see. 
 
 In yon sweet brook that gently flows 
 
 Between me and my foe, 
 The stones are lying round and smooth, 
 
 I'll take them as I go. 
 
DAVID AND GOLIATH. 215 
 
 And these shall be for my defense, 
 
 And God shall guide my hand ; 
 This day shall ye deliverance see, 
 
 God will preserve our land." 
 
 They met ; two champions how unlike, 
 
 The giant and the lad ; 
 The giant swings his awful spear, 
 
 And frantic seems, and mad. 
 
 He scorns to see a boy sent out 
 
 To fight with him alone, 
 And thus he speaks his pride and rage 
 
 In words of bitter tone : 
 
 " Am I a dog ! that thou hast come? 
 
 Hast thou no man to fight? 
 And must I waste my strength on you 
 
 To toss you with affz'ight? 
 
 What hast thou, boy ! a staflT? a sling? 
 
 Where are your captains tall ? 
 Could not a man of strength be found ? 
 
 Where is your boasted Saul? 
 
 Boy, you are brave, upon my word ; 
 But hither come to me. 
 
216 DAVID AND GOLIATH. 
 
 And I will crush you in my hand, 
 And Israel's hosts shall see." 
 
 The boy grew straight ; his eye grew quick ; 
 
 His lip no quiver knew ; 
 And to the giant thus replied, 
 
 The valiant boy and true : 
 
 " O proud Philistine! hast thou come 
 
 To kill me with thy spear? 
 I know a mightier one than thou, 
 
 And He is with me here. 
 
 And I will take thy head from thee 
 By thine own waiting sword ; 
 
 The fowls of heaven shall eat thy flesh, 
 Thus saith my God the Lord." 
 
 And David ran to meet his foe, 
 And quick his sling he drew. 
 
 The round stone whirling from his hand 
 With cautious aim he threw. 
 
 No lanceman with his shining shaft, 
 
 No archer with his bow 
 E'er target made with keener sight, 
 
 Than David with his foe. 
 
DAVID AND GOIilATH. 217 
 
 The giant falling on his face, 
 
 Without a moment's pause 
 Young David leajis upon his form, 
 
 And quick his sword he draws. 
 
 A moment and the trunkless head 
 
 He holds before the liost ; 
 And David is the champion now. 
 
 And Israel's pride and boast. 
 
 So won the gentle shepherd boy 
 
 Till he at last was crowned ; 
 And sat upon a royal throne 
 
 Beloved and renowned. 
 
 And still he sang with tuneful harp 
 
 The shepherd bard and king ; 
 And well we love the royal tale, 
 
 And still his songs we sing. 
 
BRING PRESENTS." 
 
 Bring presents to the King of l?^ings, 
 
 Bear jewels rich and rare, 
 Select the brightest gems of earth, 
 
 Cull fairest flowers with care. 
 
 Haste with sweet burdens to the Lord, 
 Freight hand and heart with good ; 
 
 Bring presents to the Father's throne, 
 In glad and holy mood. 
 
 Bring presents unto Him who pours 
 
 Rich blessings from the skies, 
 And hides away in mount and vale 
 
 His golden legacies. 
 
 Bring thoughts, bring words and happy looks. 
 Bring smiles and tears to God ; 
 
"bring presents." 219 
 
 Bring all the treasures of the heart 
 To grace his own abode. 
 
 Bring genius' holy works to Him ; 
 
 Bring art's most classic forms; 
 And poesy's most sacred gifts, 
 
 When life with beauty warms. 
 
 Bring wealth, and on CTod's altar heap 
 
 The shining treasure high ; 
 And God will show how gold can work 
 
 For sad humanity. 
 
 Ye rich, bring splendid gifts to God. 
 
 And feel your own hearts glow. 
 And ye shall touch the mystic chords 
 
 That wake the world from woe. 
 
 And stay not back, ye humbler ones, 
 
 The widow's mite is known. 
 And God hath told through earth her fame, 
 
 Her work of love hath shown. 
 
 Bring gifts of labor, love, and gold; 
 
 Bring all life's hidden gems ; 
 And they shall gleam in Paradise 
 
 From radiant diadems. 
 
AN INCIDENT OF THE SCHILLER. 
 
 Wild was the shock that broke the Schiller's sides, 
 And sent her staggering through the frantic tides ; 
 And hurried naen and women to the deck, 
 To look on death, amid an ocean wreck. 
 
 Wliat thunder of the awful rocks below, 
 And fiercer cry of souls in sudden woe ; 
 What open jaws of strong and greedy waves, 
 What horror of the low-walled ocean caves. 
 
 Before a sailor's stalwart form, a prayer 
 Was sobbed aloud ; a mother kneeling there. 
 Held in her arms a rosy, prattling boy — 
 Her own heart's pride — to all the ship a joy. 
 
 Grave gentlemen had stroked his golden curls, 
 And he had laughed with gay and sunny girls; 
 His merry ways had won him oft caress, 
 And all had praised his childish loveliness. 
 
AN INCIDENT OF THE SCHILLER. 221 
 
 " O save me sailor ! save me and my child !" 
 
 Tlie mother prayed with pleading tones and wild ; 
 
 " I'm rich ! I ni very rich ! and I will give 
 
 You wealth for joy, and comfort while you live." 
 
 " You need not be a sailor any more, 
 Nor know a care ; O take us to the shore ! 
 And still the mother plead where low she knelt, 
 As if her tears an adamant would melt. 
 
 A great wave rolling o'er the vessel's deck, 
 SweiDt mother, child, and sailor, from the wreck ; 
 And rich and poor alike their eyes grew dim. 
 Where evermore the wild sea-monsters swim. 
 
 O, when the last engulfing wave shall yawn, 
 And our life's bark shall founder, almost gone 
 No human hand shall save us from despair, — 
 No treasure rich avail for safety there. 
 
 Then be our prayer to Him who rules the storm; 
 Hard by the hidden rocks of death, His form 
 Is bending o'er the poor ones as they wait, 
 And trust Him in the final hour of fate. 
 
222 AN INCIDENT OF THE SOHILLER. 
 
 O we have seen the wrecked ones lying calm, 
 And meet the last wild billow with a psalm ; 
 Or sink so sweetly neath the yielding' deep, 
 As if it were a couch of balmy sleep. 
 
 When like the Schiller we at last shall feel 
 
 The thunder-stroke, that breaks our vessel's keel, 
 
 O may the everlasting arms be near. 
 
 And we in love and trust be kept from fear. 
 
 ^^<^^(^^^^^^^^ 
 
WINTER BOUQUET. 
 
 TO A FRIEND IN THE SOUTH. 
 
 Not bright gay flowers 
 From fragrant bowers — 
 Not petal'd gems 
 From tender stems 
 
 I pluck with willing hand ; 
 
 For ah ! our Northern land 
 
 Is now the home of snows ; 
 
 No modest violet shows 
 Its tender form 
 On hill-side warm ; 
 And all is drear 
 Till spring appear. 
 
224 WINTER BOUQUET. 
 
 But thoughts are free 
 And fair may be 
 As summer's own ; 
 The heart alone 
 Is green all months and days 
 While spring or autumn stays ; 
 The atmosphere of truth 
 Gives age the heart of youth, 
 The winter hearth, 
 Of all tlie earth. 
 Has brightest flowers 
 From Life's thought bowers. 
 
 Glad thoughts I'll bind, 
 From realms of mind, 
 Where forms of love 
 And beauty rove, 
 Where sweet pavilions stand 
 To grace the fairy-land 
 Of Fancy, blest and free ; 
 Where happy harmony 
 Wakes all the soul 
 To Hope's control, 
 And shows to faith. 
 Life's holiest path. 
 
WINTER BOUQUET. 225 
 
 O light and shade! 
 
 O hill and glade! 
 
 Music of streams, 
 
 Transports of dreams, 
 Voices of tenderness, 
 And smiles to cheer and bless, 
 And stars, and flowers, and birds, 
 And holy cheering words 
 
 What hope and cheer 
 
 To banish fear ! 
 
 What visions blest 
 
 To give us rest ! 
 
 Our every path 
 
 A blessing hath. 
 
 And beauty lurks 
 
 In choicest works 
 Around each heart and home. 
 Or, where earth's children roam. 
 Life's higher temple stands. 
 And, fashioned without hands, 
 
 Its bliss invites 
 
 To holier heights ; 
 
 Nor fade the flowers 
 
 In Heaven's own bowers ! 1856. 
 
THANKSGIVING. 
 
 The golden summer days are fled, 
 And autumn's withered flowers instead 
 Have souglit their silent winter hed ; 
 
 Tlie meadows bare, 
 Where clover blooms perfumed the air, 
 Await the kiss of snow flakes fair. 
 
 The days of sunshine and of rain 
 
 Have browned the sheaves upon the plain, 
 
 And garnered are the lieaps of grain ; 
 
 With gold and red 
 The orchard boughs that bent o'erhead 
 Have all their precious fruitage shed. 
 
 And sweetly all the paths of God 
 Have dropped their fatness on the sod, 
 
THANKSGIVING. 227 
 
 And flowers have sprung where we have trod. 
 
 And love hath dwelt 
 At our dear shrines where we have knelt, 
 And kindly gifts our God hath dealt. 
 
 We've seen his bow with beauteous span, 
 The symbol of His gracious plan 
 Of hope and blessedness to man ; 
 
 And every day 
 We've seen the darkness lift away 
 Along our weary pilgrim way. 
 
 And so the year, with blessed toil, 
 Has filled our hands with grateful spoil 
 From darkling mine, and bounteous soil ; 
 
 And richer still, 
 The grace that healeth worldly ill, 
 Hath brought us rest in God's own will. 
 
 The Conqueror's footsteps have been near, 
 And He hath marched along the year; 
 He asks our service, let us hear ; 
 
 Be this our praise 
 As Christ was faithful in His ways, 
 So let us spend our grateful days. 
 
228 THANKSGIVING. 
 
 We've seen opi^ressions sink and cease 
 
 Beneath the victor tread of peace, 
 
 And Freedom's reign witli large increase ; 
 
 And Clirist is come 
 To make these vales and hills His home, 
 As here His stranger children roam. 
 
 His cross is here; it shall remain, 
 
 Till by the blessed victor's joain 
 
 The reign of lust and crime shall wane; 
 
 His royal arm 
 Is our defense in all alarm, 
 And He will shield us still from harm. 
 
 He spreadeth here His amj)le board. 
 The Gospel wine is rich outpoured, 
 The bread is here ; the living Word ; 
 
 Salvation free, — 
 We hear the words of Jubilee, 
 The voice that saith, " Come unto me," 
 
 Jesus is here, the prince of grace, 
 Our Leader in the royal race 
 To our Imperial dwelling place ; 
 Our debt is paid, 
 
THANKSGIVING. 229 
 
 The sacrifice was loug since made, 
 Our sins were all on Jesus laid 
 
 Thanks for the gift unspeakable, 
 For grace abounding, us to heal ; 
 For all the joy our rapt hearts feel; 
 
 All hearts respond, 
 God loves us all, a father fond, 
 And woos us to His home beyond. 
 
 For sun and rain, for light and dew, 
 
 For blessing all the twelvemonth through. 
 
 And aid to comfort and subdue. 
 
 Be praise to Him 
 Who reigns among the cherubim. 
 Yet dwells with us concealed and dim. 
 
 Our hearts are full. His love we know 
 
 Hath ceased not in its overflow 
 
 Through winter's cold and summer't« glow; 
 
 Thanksgiving day ! 
 Beyond these mornings cold and gray, 
 There cometh one to last alway. 
 
THE UNSEEN SHORE. 
 
 The mists of death hang low upon hfe's sea, — 
 
 The unseen shore, 
 Beyond the darkness, rises silently 
 
 Forever more ; 
 The golden city flashes from the strand, 
 But mortal eye sees not the distant land. 
 
 Unnumbered prows are turned toward that far shore; 
 
 But never yet. 
 Returning voyager, with struggling oar, 
 
 Or canvass set. 
 Hath brought us tidings from the land afar, 
 Whose silver light is not of sun or star. 
 
 But tiiere are voices in that unseen land, 
 
 Which we have heard. 
 Of loved ones standing with us hand in hand, 
 
THE UNSEEN SHORE. 231 
 
 With smile and word, 
 Tliat kindled here our hearts with friendship's glow, 
 And breathed on us their music sweet and low 
 
 And there are footstej^s on the golden street, 
 
 That long ago 
 Made sacred rhythm, gliding soft and sweet, 
 
 Or sad and slow, 
 Along the })aths we trod by hearth and home, 
 But strangely ceased, and left us lone to roam. 
 
 And there are souls that thrill with love eterne, 
 
 Who look on Him 
 For whom the stars in endless lustre burn ; 
 
 Where seraphim 
 Delighted, bask around the throne of lighc, 
 In ceaseless wonder at the Infinite. 
 
 We knew them here, and with them wept and smiled ; 
 
 Our life was one ; 
 We met and parted, still of each beguiled ; 
 
 Their Avork is done. 
 And they are resting in the morning land, 
 And we are toiling yet with lieart and hand. 
 
232 THE UNSEEN SHORE. 
 
 We group them oft in visions of the soul, 
 
 A joyous band, 
 As on the peaceful hills of light they stroll. 
 
 In that fair land ; 
 Or wander on the shore with loving gaze. 
 To watch the comers from the dark sea haze. 
 
 Speed on my bark, life's stormy sea across, 
 
 The mists will rise ; 
 And every pain, and tear, and earthly loss, 
 
 In strange surprise, 
 Shall vanish, when the unseen shore shall greet 
 Thine eye, and thou shalt touch the golden street. 
 
 -se^^^i^5^5>^ 
 
"HE SHALL COME DOWN LIKE RAIN. 
 
 8ucli shall his coming be 
 
 Whose reign we wait to see; 
 The heavens are freighted with the prayers of time ; 
 From every age they rise, and every clime, 
 
 Like silent mists that float 
 
 Through azure skies remote, 
 Until they gather in the heights of air, 
 And thence distill upon the meadows fair. 
 
 " He shall come down like rain ;" 
 
 And like the shower's refrain 
 Shall be the music of his coming feet; 
 As when o'er paths of summer's sultry heat 
 
 The low cloud sweepeth by 
 
 With blessed minstrelsy, 
 And charms both ear and heart alike to rest, 
 While gratitude holds reigo within the breast. 
 
234 " HE SHALL COME DOWN LIKE RAIN." 
 
 Soft as the showers that fall 
 
 With murmurs musical, 
 He comes to hearts that feel the edge of pain, 
 As when the mown grass lies ujDon the plain ; 
 
 What fragrance comes of grief 
 
 When Jesus gives relief, 
 And walks himself amid our fallen flowers, 
 And drops his smile like summer's gentle showers. 
 
 Come, blessed rain of grace! 
 
 On every dwelling place 
 Of weary-hearted men, descend, we pray ; 
 Refreshing Presence, cf me and ever stay ; 
 
 The paths of thronging feet 
 
 Are parched with sin's wild heat ; 
 Ye clouds of heaven on every land distill. 
 Till Jesus' name the earth with fragrance fill. 
 
 O summer rain of love, 
 
 Sweep down from heights above ; 
 With the sweet music of your hallowed chime 
 The world's ear charm, and heal the paths of time. 
 
 Come, our Immanuel, 
 
 And with us ever dwell ; 
 On all our pilgrim race, O holy Ghost, 
 Descend to bring the world's glad Pentecost. 
 
OUR DAILY BREAD. 
 
 " Give us this day our daily bread ;" 
 Hear thou, O Lord, our prayer, 
 Lone children of thy care ; 
 
 It is a desert land we journey through ; 
 Each day anew, 
 
 We need for food thy bread, for drink thy dew. 
 
 " Give us this day our daily bread," 
 
 We dare not ask for more ; 
 
 Enough is ample store ; 
 But should thy hand a larger gift impart, 
 
 Keep thou our heart, 
 Lest we be pufied with vain and selfish art. 
 
 " Give us this day our daily bread ;" 
 Thy bread is strength indeed. 
 
236 OUR DAILY BREAD. 
 
 And in our deepest need 
 It is enough, upon life's dusty road, 
 
 To find our load 
 Sustained by grace, and help each day bestowed, 
 
 " Give us this day our daily bread." 
 
 O may we be content 
 
 With blessings daily sent ; 
 We cannot eat to-morrow's bread to-day, 
 
 We need not prey 
 Upon the ills the future hides away. 
 
 " Give us this day our daily bread." 
 
 This answered prayer shall bring 
 Each cherished, needful thing ; 
 
 For sorrow, joy ; for weakness, strength ; and peace 
 As storms increase ; 
 
 Our never-failing good till life shall cease. 
 
 ■^&^ 
 
PUT STRENGTH IN ME." 
 
 I wander in a weary land, 
 
 1 thirst, O Lord, and often faint, 
 And struggle hard against complaint; 
 While hostile forms around me stand 
 To chill my heart and palsy me with fear. 
 O thou, my great Deliverer, draw near ; 
 "Put strength in me." 
 
 My human weakness leans toward thee; 
 The darkness of my soul inclines 
 To catch thy love-light as it shines, 
 And earthward falls so tenderly. 
 O, as the noon-light fortifies the flower, 
 And alternates the fre-huess of the shower, 
 " Put strength in me." 
 
 What though my path be difficult. 
 And heavy burdens press me sore, 
 
238 " PUT STRENGTH IN ME." 
 
 While weary leagues lie still before ; 
 I journey on and still exult, 
 If thou, O Lord, each blessed livelong day, 
 Wilt drop thy manna on my rugged way : 
 " Put strength in me." 
 
 Our weakness, Lord, thou tookest here, 
 And bore it all thy journey long, 
 To make our human frailty strong ; 
 Thy tears were shed our hearts to cheer; 
 And from the grave that chilled thy pierced heart, 
 Immortal strength forever healed the smart; 
 " Put strength in me." 
 
 " Put strength in me," then toil is rest, 
 And life is all a victor's road 
 That leads to blessedness and God ; 
 Hear, Lord, thy weary child's request; 
 . What need have I to ask for ease or bliss. 
 If thou, O Lord, wilt grant me only this : 
 " Put strength in me." 
 
ESTHER. 
 
 When Persia sat amid the empires old, 
 Illustrious in the pomp of power and gold, 
 And Babylon, for jjride and beauty known. 
 Flashed o'er the lands the splendor of its throne. 
 There dwelt a people of peculiar fame, 
 A captive race, to bondage doomed, and shame — 
 Who boasted once their liings and heroes great, 
 Their cities walled, and bards that sang elate 
 Of victories, won by captains skilled in war, 
 And spoil of nations driven out afar. 
 
 Ahasuerus sat on Persia's throne, 
 Unrivalled where his kingly glory shone ; 
 A hundred provinces he knew, and more. 
 That spread from mountain wall to ocean shore ; 
 
240 ESTHER. 
 
 While massy splendors lent their costly hues, 
 Provided by his golden revenues. 
 
 Three years had i^assed of his aus)>icious reign, 
 And peace prevailed throughout his wide domain 
 And he, exulting in his proud estate, 
 Prepared a feast, for lords and nobles great ; 
 And to his servants all he gave command 
 To come and share the bounty of his hand. 
 Six festal months the royal cheer went round— 
 The joy of prince and people knew no bound ; 
 And when the days, a hundred and four score, 
 Had passed away, he added seven more, 
 And opened then his garden and his court — 
 All Shushan gathered at the kingly sport. 
 The portals of the palace open, drew 
 Each day a long and brilliant retinue. 
 And voices rang from every royal hall 
 Where pleasure ruled the charmed festival; 
 And marble pillars rose to arches high, 
 Festooned with gilt and gorgeous tapestry ; 
 While golden goblets, filled with mellow wine, 
 Pressed lips that praised the king almost divine. 
 Nor would the king the joyous scene restrain, 
 But gave to Vashti, partner of his reign. 
 
ESTHER. 241 
 
 His royal house to extend the festal hours, 
 
 And swell the mirth of Shushan's sj)acious towers. 
 
 Then Vashti, for her queenly graces known, 
 Gathered the beauty that in Shushan shone ; 
 Her princess maids she gathered round her all, 
 And matrons proud, from palace and from hall ; 
 But fairest of that high and courtly scene 
 Was Vashti, Persia's noble, beauteous queen. 
 
 Merry with wine, the king gave this command : 
 "Go bring my queen, with royal crown, to stand 
 Before the princes and the people all ; 
 Let Vashti's beauty grace our festival. 
 Bring Vashti forth ! let all the peoj^le see 
 The fairest gem of Persia's royalty ! " 
 Indignantly, the queen refused to obey. 
 And in her curtained chamber dared to stay ; 
 And spurned the wild applause the vulgar crowd 
 Were waiting, in their mirth, to shout aloud. 
 
 The king was wroth ; with anger burned his soul. 
 For Vashti had resisted his control. 
 He called his princes, first in seats of power. 
 That saw his face in Shushan's royal tower, 
 
242 ESTHER. 
 
 Aud thus he spake, by wounded pride impelled, 
 Whose hand the Medo-Persian sceptre held : 
 " My princes, honored iu my court, and known 
 For faithful service to our Persian throne, 
 What shall be done to Vashti for the shame 
 Which she hath brought upon my kingly fame? 
 Disgraced my sceptre and my throne shall be, 
 If Vashti suffer not by stern decree! " 
 
 Then by the mouth of princely Memucan 
 The wise men answered. This their proffered plan 
 " O king ! great wrong to thee hath Vashti done, 
 And far and wide the insult will be known. 
 This deed the land with ruin will o'erwhelm. 
 And bring revolt to all thy kingly realm ; 
 For, Persian women everywhere, will choose 
 The pleasure of their husbands to refuse, 
 And thus contempt on every prince and lord 
 By Persian wives, relentless, will be poured. 
 Then, if it please the king, let this decree 
 Amon^ the laws of Medes and Persians be : 
 Let Vashti come before the king no more. 
 Nor pass in royal robes the palace door ; 
 Let one more worthy share the queen's estate, 
 Aud great and small be warned by Vashti's fate." 
 
ESTHER. 243 
 
 In exiled beauty turned the injured queen, 
 No more in Persia's jDalace to be seen. 
 A royal frown beclouded her sweet sky, 
 But beauty died not in her soul-lit eye ; 
 For, not the less, but evermore a queen 
 Was she in Virtue's royal court unseen. 
 
 No mirth was heard in Shushan's palace walls ; 
 The king was queenless in its royal halls; 
 And joy was banished from his kingly court 
 'Till beauty came again to its sujDport. 
 The servants of the king assembled then 
 His lords and princes, wise and mighty men. 
 To seek a queen for Persia's shaded throne ; 
 For vacant was the place where Vashti shone. 
 And thus they spake : " O king! let this decree 
 Go forth to all thy provinces from thee : 
 Let Persia*S fairest daughters all be sought. 
 And be the chosen ones to Shushan brought; 
 And let the maiden most that pleaseth thee, 
 Our loving queen, instead of Vashti, be." 
 
 In Shushan's palace dwelt an honored Jew, 
 Known in the royal service, tried and true; 
 His name was Mordecai ; and with him there 
 
244 ESTHER. 
 
 A cbild had grown to womanhood most fair. 
 Hadassah was her name in Chaldea's tongue — 
 A flower unknown, her beauty was unsung; 
 In Persian, she was " Esther" — called a " star" — 
 A captive maid brought from a land afar. 
 And when the king's commandment was obeyed. 
 And all the Persian beauties were displayed. 
 Not one so fair and beautiful was seen 
 Beneath the palace lights that shone serene. 
 As Esther, of the exile race forlorn, 
 Oppressed by lordly rule and tyrant scorn: 
 The king was conquered by her guileless art, ' 
 And yielded her his kingdom and his heart. 
 Then rang the royal halls with mirth once more, 
 And Esther's praise was echoed o'er and o'er; 
 To win her smile delighted courtiers came. 
 And distant cities heard her rising fame. 
 
 The golden months with love and pleasure sped. 
 
 Nor dreamed the king a humble captive led 
 
 The beauty of his court, and gave renown 
 
 To Persia's haughty sceptre and its crown. 
 
 Dividing plans of state with hours of ease, 
 
 Or banquet scenes with all that heart could please, 
 
 He thought himself secure, with guards of steel 
 
ESTHER. 245 
 
 That round him seemed a wall invincible, 
 AVheu lo ! as sudden as the lightnings flash 
 The palace rang with tumult wild and rash ; 
 A base conspiracy was brought to light — 
 All Shushan trembled in the strange affright. 
 
 The king himself the object was of hate, 
 And just escaped a sad and wanton fate ; 
 'Twas Mordecai revealed the horrid plot. 
 Who Esther told, and bade her tarry not 
 To warn the king, the fatal scheme make known, 
 And save his life to Persia and his throne : 
 The king was saved and vengeance fell amain, 
 And wrung the death-pang from the culprits twain. 
 ^They wrote in Persia's sacred annals then 
 The record of this deed of evil men ; 
 How Mordecai had saved the king they wrote, 
 The book was laid away, the deed forgot. 
 
 Then rose proud Haraan to the chief estate 
 Of Persia's princes and her nobles great ; 
 And at the king's command was reverence paid. 
 The honors of the realm were on him laid ; 
 And as he daily passed the royal gate 
 In all his courtly pride and pomp elate, 
 
246 ESTHER. 
 
 Prostrate the vassal throng before him bowed, 
 
 And Hainan's praise was eclioed long and loud ; 
 
 But Mordeeai the Jew refused to obey, 
 
 And sat unmoved as Ham an passed each day ; 
 
 His royal soul the impious homage spurned, 
 
 A nobler worship in his bosom burned ; 
 
 To God, Jehovah, bowed his soul alone, — 
 
 A higher law than Persia's ancient throne. 
 
 Then rose the wrath of Haman to a flame, 
 
 For what to him were honor, wealth, and fame, 
 
 So long as Mordeeai within the gate 
 
 Refused to bow, and honor his estate. 
 
 Then Haman made complaint in words like these 
 
 " O, king! there is in all thy provinces 
 A peopled scattered and despised, whose laws 
 Perverse, dishonor Persia's sacred cause ; 
 And if it please thee, wilt thou grant, O, king, 
 To make decree, and seal it with thy ring ; 
 And send the writing forth through all the land. 
 And let this j^eople perish by command ; 
 So peace and honor shall thy throne retain 
 And tranquil be the glory of thy reign." 
 Then flew the mandate o'er the realm 
 
 " Death ! death to every Jew ! swift overwhelm 
 The hated race ; destroy and kill, and cause 
 
247 
 
 To perish all who spurn the royal laws ; 
 Let young and old, women and children shave 
 The common fate, not one for pity spare." 
 Then Hanian and the king sat down to drink, 
 And cursed the race thus brought to ruin's brink ; 
 While wanton mirth throughout the palace rang, 
 And Persia's lords their boast and glory sang. 
 
 But Shushan's city was perplexed ; a wail 
 Of sadness rose from ashen forms and pale 
 That gathered in their teri-or to lament 
 The impending doom, that every heart had rent. 
 Queen Esther in her royal chamber sat 
 Unconscious of the dark o'erhanging fate 
 Which should consign her race to ruin all, 
 While she herself before the storm should fall ; 
 'Twas told her Mordecai without the gate 
 In sackcloth lay bewailing his estate; 
 
 " Haste ! haste !" she said, '' bring Moi'decai to me ; 
 What, Mordecai, this frantic grief I see? 
 What wild alarm awakes thy sudden fear ; 
 What cloud of sorrow, pray, is brooding near?" 
 
 " O, Esther! queen beloved, read this decree 
 Against thy people, loved and blest of thee ; 
 By Haman's malice we are doomed to die, 
 
248 
 
 And perish every one, ruin is nigh ! 
 
 Haste thou before the Iving to intercede, 
 
 Make supplication in this liour of need 
 
 For all thy people, ere the vengeful day 
 
 Shall sweep thy kindred from the earth away." 
 
 " In vain," she said, " it may not be that I 
 Should venture thus and in my rashness die ; 
 For like an evil angel evermore 
 The majesty of greatness stands before 
 The Persian throne, and feet unbidden there 
 Perchance the storm of kingly wrath may dare." 
 To her then Mordecai again replied : 
 
 " O, queen, if this request be now denied, 
 If altogether now thou hold'st thy peace 
 Another hand shall bring the Jews release ; 
 But thou and all thy father's house shall fall, 
 Then heed, O heed thy suffering people's call ! 
 
 " Go, Mordecai, to all the Jews," she said, 
 While crushing sorrow bowed her queenly head ; 
 
 " Go, tell them, with their weeping queen to fast 
 Until three days of struggling prayer are past ; 
 Then will I undertake the solemn task, 
 And for my people all deliverance ask ; 
 And if I perish, I will perish there, 
 
ESTHER. 249 
 
 Before the king in flowing tears and prayer." 
 The third day came, and Esther from her grief 
 Arose serene ; a solemn prayer and brief, — 
 And then arrayed in royal robes she drew 
 Along the inner court, where full in view 
 The king august sat on his ancient throne, 
 And Persia's glory in its lustre shone : 
 In strange heroic beauty there she stood, 
 Where on the pain of death none might intrude ; 
 She waits ; what glance from those dark royal eyes; 
 Shall anger burst like lightning from the skies ; 
 Or will her form his kingly heart beguile 
 And kindle on his brow a radiant smile ? 
 
 She wins ;,the golden scepter held with grace 
 Invites her near, and o'er the courtly space 
 The queen advancing touched the golden rod, 
 As her soul's faith had held the arm of God ; 
 And he whose lips were used to stern decree 
 To Esther spake thus kind and lovingly : 
 " What wilt thou, Esther? what is thy request, 
 My ({ueen, above all Persian daughters blest; 
 Ask what thou wilt, and whatsoe'er it be, 
 If half my kingdom I will give it thee." 
 Then with becoming grace she made reply : 
 
250 ESTHER, 
 
 " O, king, 'tis not thy realm I ask, but I 
 A banquet liave prepared for thee, O king ; 
 I will thou come to it and Haman bring." 
 
 With gold and silver service spread the feast, 
 With all the viands of the gorgeous East ; 
 Soft music gave enchantment to the scene, 
 And wealth and splendor shed their light serene ; 
 But Esther's beauty and her queenly grace 
 Shone brightest in the charmed and courtly place. 
 Then sjiake the king as passed the royal wine : 
 
 " O Esther, tell me what desire is thine ; 
 I would divide my kingdom e'en for thee ; 
 Make thy request; the gift I will decree." 
 
 " I ask thee once again, O king, to come. 
 And meet with Haman in my banquet room ; 
 To-morrow come and grace my festal board, 
 'Tis all I ask, grant what I have implored." 
 
 Then Haman from the banquet went elate, 
 And told to all his friends his j^roud estate; 
 And how he sat in Esther's banquet hall, 
 The favored one of all the festival ; 
 One only thing marred Haman's days of joy, 
 But earthly bliss is ne'er without alloy ; 
 
ESTHER. 251 
 
 For Mordecai, the hated Jew, still sat, 
 
 Nor moved as Haman passed the royal gate. 
 
 Then Haman's wife, his envious soul to please, 
 Her troubled lord addressed in words like these : 
 
 " O Haman ! Haman ! suflfer not 
 This hated man to live ; 
 And let his name and memory rot — 
 Long life to Haman give. 
 
 Command a gallows to be made 
 
 Full fifty cubits high, 
 And there in shame and swift disgrace 
 
 Let perish Mordecai. 
 
 Haste, haste thee to the king, and get 
 
 The seal of his decree, 
 And ere the morrow's sun is set 
 
 Accomplished it shall be. 
 
 Then shalt thou merrily go in 
 
 To Esther's banquet hall, 
 And all the royal favor win — 
 
 The happiest prince of all." 
 
252 ESTHER. 
 
 That night the king slept not ; strange visions carae 
 And drove tlie wing of shimber from his eyes. 
 
 " Go, bring the chronicles of Persia's realm," 
 He said, " and I will read the mystic tales 
 Of honor and renown by jjoets told." 
 And as he read, there met his eye the deed 
 Of Mordecai, who saved the royal life ; 
 Like Pharaoh's butler, of the olden time, 
 Remembered then the king his fault. " Tell me," 
 He said, " what honor, and what dignity 
 Hath been conferred on Mordecai for this?" 
 
 "Nothing is done for him," the servants said ; 
 
 "Only he sits within the gate, the same 
 As when the fearful plot by him was told." 
 
 The night was dark without, and silence reigned 
 O'er Shushan's towers ; and yet while spake the king. 
 In his deep palace chamber hid, and there 
 Communed with those who always near him stood, 
 A sudden summons came through the deep gloom 
 Of the long palace halls. " Who's in the court !" 
 In startled accents cried the king. " Who dare 
 Disturb the silence of my midnight hours?" 
 " Tis Haman," was the answer. He had come, 
 At this unseemly hour, on errand dii-e— 
 
ESTHER. 253 
 
 To ask the death of him toward whom the king 
 
 Was moved to grateful admiration now. 
 " Let him come in !" the monarch said, and soon 
 
 The haughty Haman in his presence stood. 
 
 Before salute was given, and sooner far 
 
 Than Haman could unbosom his desire, 
 
 The king his nightly visitor addressed : 
 " Haman, my prince! ha! ha! What shall be done 
 
 To him in whom the king delighteth most? " 
 
 Then Haman, in his secret heart, bethought 
 " 'Tis I, who most the royal favor hath. 
 Thus will the king this honor do to me ; " 
 "And Haman, in his gladness, made reply : 
 
 " Let the royal apparel be brought. 
 
 And the horse the king rideth upon, 
 And the crown, with jewels inwrought, 
 
 That is worn by the king on his throne : 
 The first of the princes then call. 
 
 And deliver them into his hand ; 
 And he shall array him withal — 
 
 The favorite one of the land." 
 
 " Then let a procession be made, 
 
 And a prince of the nobles shall lead ; 
 
254 ESTHER. 
 
 And summoned to see the jmrade, 
 
 Let the city give reverent heed : 
 And when the prince shouteth acclaim, 
 
 Let the people in concert unite ; 
 And blazon on banners his name, 
 
 In whom is our monarch's delight." 
 
 Then said the king to Haman, " Haste and take 
 The apparel, and the horse, and as thou'st said, 
 So do to Mordecai, the Jew ; nor fail 
 Of all that thou hast spoken to perform." 
 Suppressed, the fierce volcanic fires of wrath 
 In Haman's bosom burned, but found no vent ; 
 And from the presence of the king he shrank 
 Appalled, discomfltted, and sore distressed. 
 
 Next day a strange and wondrous pageant passed ; 
 
 And through the streets the crowds were gathering fast 
 
 To see the spectacle. On horse arrayed. 
 
 And on his head the royal crown displayed, 
 
 With gorgeous robes, rode Mordecai, the Jew, 
 
 And Haman led the stately retinue ; 
 
 And thus did Haman, as he passed, rehearse 
 
 What in his heart was but a bitter curse : 
 
ESTHER. 255 
 
 " Long live Mordecai ! long live Mordecai ! 
 In purple and blue ; 
 He saved the king's life ! He saved the king's life ! 
 And praise is his due." 
 
 " He rides the king's horse ! he rides the king's horse ! 
 And starred is his brow ; 
 Dwellers of Shushan ! dwellers of Shushan ! 
 f Hail, hail him and bow." 
 
 " Long live Mordecai ! long live Mordecai ! 
 To set with the king ; 
 Through the dominion ! through the dominion! 
 The welcome shall ring." 
 
 That eve sat Haman in his house, and dark 
 The clouds of fate hung -o'er his tortured soul : 
 His head was covered, and with mournful strain 
 He told his wife and friends of that day's scenes, 
 With all that had befallen him. And now 
 A chamberlain is ushered from the king ; 
 The message is to Haman : " Haste and go ! 
 Go to the banquet Esther has prepared." 
 
256 ESTHER. 
 
 Queen Esther graces once again the board ; 
 In golden bowls the royal wine is poured. 
 Again the king her potent presence owns, 
 And asks once more, in tender, loving tones, 
 What her desire is. Thus she replies : 
 " O king ! if I have favor in tliine eyes. 
 And if it please the king, I pray, O spare 
 My life ! my people's life ! this is my prayer ! 
 For we are sold ! I and my peoi^le, sold ! 
 To be destroyed, and perish young and old. 
 The day of doom to us is drawing near ; 
 Avert, O king, the impending day of fear." 
 
 "Who is he? who is he?" 
 
 Astonished, he cries , 
 " Where is he ? where is he? " 
 
 He shrieks, in surprise ; 
 " Is he here ? is he there? 
 
 Quickly tell me, that I 
 May seize him and bind him ; 
 
 The monster shall die." 
 
 " Who is he ? who is he ? 
 Plots the life of my queen ; 
 Where is he ? where is he? 
 
ESTHER. 257 
 
 Vile coward, and mean ! 
 Who is it tliat dares 
 
 Lift his hand at my throne? 
 Search him out! search him out! 
 
 Bring him hitlier alone ! " 
 
 Then, with heroic impulse, Esther rose, 
 
 And with the power that injured woman knows, 
 
 She turned her flashing beauty toward the place 
 
 Where Hamau trembling sat with pallid face, 
 
 And to the astonished king she cried, " 'Tis he! 
 
 This wicked Haman is our enemy ! 
 
 'Tis he conceives the impious design. 
 
 To kill and to destroy both me and mine." 
 
 Thpse burning words of injured innocence 
 On Haman's ear, like lightning bolt intense, 
 Fell bursting to his rocky heart of shame, 
 'Till shivered by his frantic sense of blame 
 He sank o'erpowered in fear and fi-enzy there, 
 Doomed and condemned, a victim of despair. 
 
 Then from the banquet rising in his wrath, 
 The king went forth and paced his garden path. 
 Enraged at Haman's deep and base design, 
 His favorite prince, who sat with him at wine ; 
 
258 ESTHER. 
 
 But fiercer grew the flame of royal ire 
 And flashed his eye with gleams of vengeful fire. 
 He turns again to seek the banquet room, 
 While on his lips he bears the words of doom. 
 Before the couch where Esther sits he sees 
 The impious Haman bowed upon his knees ; 
 He pleads for life ; the royal fury now 
 Has gathei'ed all its clouds upon his brow 
 And bursts in storm : " What insult to my queen 
 Is tiiis!" he cries, " before my eyes 'tis seen ! 
 Cover his face and bind him by my word ! ! " 
 While thus Harbonah spake to Persia's lord : 
 
 " Behold the gallows Haman made, 
 
 Full fifty cubits high, 
 In Haman's house it stands erect 
 
 And there let Haman die." 
 
 " He boasted he would hang this day 
 
 Good Mordecai, the Jew ; 
 Let Haman crown the gallows height, 
 
 The honor is his due." 
 
 "Away ! away ! hang Haman up 
 Full fifty cubits high ; 
 
ESTHER. 259 
 
 For all the evil in his heart 
 Let wicked Hainan die!" 
 
 The guards are called : they bear him out, 
 
 They move with martial tread ; 
 While pinioned are the culprit's hands, 
 
 And covered is his head. 
 
 The traitor speaks not, dares not speak ; 
 
 He knows the guardsman's sword 
 Is held relentless to his breast, 
 
 If lie but speak a word. 
 
 He knows the monarch's frown is death, 
 
 And mercy may not be : 
 For never Medo-Persian throne 
 
 Reversed its stern decree. 
 
 They reach the spot where strong and high 
 
 The gallows stands in air ; 
 No kind adieu the culprit hears. 
 
 No priestly voice in prayer. 
 
 A sudden stroke, and Haman proud, 
 
 Beneath the vaulted sky, 
 Swings in the sight of Persian throngs 
 
 Full fifty cubits high. 
 
260 ESTHER. 
 
 'Tis ever thus, ambition brings its curse ; 
 
 The cruel soul must know the sure reverse 
 
 Which justice with imperial decree, 
 
 Pronounces from its throne of dignity. 
 
 Not only Haman felt the royal ire, 
 
 As stubble quick consumes before the Are, 
 
 But history writes with burning scorn his name. 
 
 And tells to every age the traitor's shame. 
 
 Nor is it true alone that haughty souls 
 
 Oft plunge where dark destruction's current rolls ; 
 
 But virtue from its luimble vale unseen, 
 
 Ascends and sits on beauty's height serene. 
 
 And God hath carved for it a royal road, 
 
 P'rom height to height it leads to His abode. 
 
 The king was pacified. His soul at ease. 
 He only thought his gracious queen to please ; 
 And ere the sun declined behind his towers. 
 Or kissed with dying hues his garden bowers^ 
 He gave the house of Haman by command 
 To Esther, with the seal of his own hand ; 
 He took the massy ring which Haman wore, 
 And to the hand of Mordecai he bore 
 The jeweled beauty, there to flash its light 
 In honor of a soul that served the right. 
 
ESTHER. 261 
 
 And when the evening drew its sliadows round, 
 Queen Esther bowed in gratitude profound, 
 And blessed her father's God, and laul her soul 
 In his dear care and craved his high control. 
 
 Yet still upon her heart a shadow lay 
 
 And more and more the burden grew each day ; 
 
 For ah, the royal mandate forth had gone 
 
 To every province ruled by Persian throne : 
 
 To kill, destroy, and cause to perish all 
 
 Her race, and soon the stroke might fall. 
 
 The laws of Medes and Persians well she knew 
 
 Changed not. No power could Haman's work undo; 
 
 But who can fathom woman's yearning heart 
 
 Or sound her depth in diplomatic art ? 
 
 Superior to senates, courts and laws. 
 
 She finds a way to gain her cherished cause. 
 
 Then Esther spake again before the king, 
 And at his feet besought him sorrowing 
 To put away the mischief Haman wrought, 
 And save her people near to ruin brought. 
 The king in Shushan's palace gave decree, 
 And sealed it with his ring : " Thus shall it be," 
 He said ; " haste ye to all the Jews, and they 
 
262 ESTHER. 
 
 Shall stand against their enemies to slay, 
 
 Destroy and cause to perish every one 
 
 Who dare assault the Jews," and it was done. 
 
 The day arrived when Hainan's fearful plot 
 
 Had been decreed by law which changeth not ; 
 
 The Jews united gathered side by side, 
 
 In province and in city fortified ; 
 
 Defiantly they met the storm of hate 
 
 Which surged from morning gray 'till evening late ; 
 
 But calm, invincible they stood that day, 
 
 And held the fierce beseigers hard at bay ; 
 
 And when the night had dropped its curtains cold, 
 
 Five hundred corpses lay, of young and old. 
 
 In Shushan's streets ; and cities near and far 
 
 Saw scenes like this beneath the vesper star. 
 
 'Twas festal day again, and Shushan's towers 
 Looked down upon the palace garden bowers 
 Where beauty, mirth and fragrance met as seen 
 Alone when eastern splendor reigns serene; 
 Esther had gathered here her people all 
 To hold with her a joyous festival. 
 Here grouped together were the old and young, 
 And here were hoary Jews who once had sung 
 
ESTHER. 263 
 
 The songs of Zion in God's city fair — 
 
 Jerusalem the holy place of prayer. 
 
 And here their children met, the captive born, 
 
 The sons and daughters of tlieir state forlorn ! 
 
 Now God who chastened, yet who loved the race, 
 
 Had shown them once again His wondrous grace ; 
 
 A captive daughter of their people He 
 
 Had raised to Persia's throne of dignity. 
 
 Tlien Sliushan's palace gleamed with joy once more, 
 
 And sweet the Hebrew songs of praise rang o'er 
 
 The royal court, and high the arches through 
 
 That spanned the pavement broad of red and blue, 
 
 Of marble black and white, where now they trod, 
 
 The injured race, the chosen ones of God ; 
 
 They wept and smiled with Esther, their loved queen. 
 
 Who smiled and wejit in all her eyes had seen ; 
 
 And tears and song were jmingled oft, and then 
 
 Responsive wolte the loud and long " Amen." 
 
 There, happy in his great unsullied heart, 
 Alike in prosperous ease and torturing smart, 
 Was Mordecai, of Persian and of Jew, 
 Beloved, admired, in virtue tried and true; 
 Now he who sat within the royal gate, 
 Is clothed with all the dignity of state ; 
 
264 ESTHER. 
 
 He wears the seals of empire, with the ring, 
 In honor and in glory next the king. 
 
 Tlie page of history liatli mueli of boast 
 
 Of lionored names a proud and mighty host; 
 
 We read of Semaramis ; wondrous queen ; 
 
 Wlio, in lier chivalry and warlike mein, 
 
 Led on the assault of Bactra, fierce and long, 
 
 And made the Assyrian prowess wide and strong. 
 
 We read of Cleopatra, by whose art, 
 
 Proud Antony laid down his conquered heart. 
 
 Of fair Zenobia, queen of the east ; 
 
 Whose beauty and whose valor have not ceased 
 
 To kindle inspiration to a flame, 
 
 As poetry and romance tell her fame. 
 
 But who in woman's story of renown 
 
 Like Esther graced with Medo-Persian crown, 
 
 Hath left the fragrance of a gentle soul 
 
 Where empire dazzles with its wide control ? 
 
 A captive maid, 'twas at a holy shrine 
 
 She learued the power of truth and love divine ; 
 
 Within a heathen court the lustre shoue. 
 
 That burned so long on Zion's height alone ; 
 
 The living God in loving memory held. 
 
 Within her heart her secret life impelled. 
 
ESTHER. 265 
 
 And richer than her royal diadem 
 She bore upon her soul a fadeless gem ; 
 The God of all her fathers with her dwelt, 
 And at His shrine a loving child she Ivnelt. 
 
 Beyond the calm cold altitude of fame 
 Too mean a place for souls of royal name, 
 How have they gathered from this scene of strife 
 And stand within the flashing gates of life. 
 Triumphant host ! they trod these paths in tears, 
 They toiled along the slow desponding years. 
 The grand assembly opens ! now they walk 
 In long procession , and with seraphs talk ; 
 Old bards are there who wondrous visions saw. 
 When God revealed himself in olden law ; 
 Kings, patriarchs, and priests, tliey move along. 
 And prophets gather with the stately throng ; 
 The king immortal with his court is there, 
 His ministers are angels strong and fair; 
 Thrones lift their splendors forth on every hand, 
 And principalities majestic stand ; 
 Dominions with their robes imperial 
 Assemble at the gorgeous festival ; 
 The ages gather with their trophies won. 
 And kingdoms march with beauty like the sun ; 
 
266 ESTHER. 
 
 The martyrs follow bearing victor palms, 
 Innumerable poor sing blessed psalms. 
 Up, up the long ascent from time's deep vale, 
 They reach the temple height and cry, " all hail :" 
 The east, the west, the north and south unite 
 And throng with stars the galaxies of light ; 
 From mountain lands and distant ocean isles, 
 Come weary pilgrims up the long defiles. 
 To wonder at the everlasting dawn. 
 And feel their hunger and their sorrows gone ; 
 . From early and from later time they come. 
 All tribes and languages with welcome home ; 
 They tell of victories won, they tell tlae price, 
 And take the prizes gained by sacrifice ; 
 The book of mystery is there, and strange 
 The ransomed ones see all their paths of change. 
 And learn the beauty of their tears below. 
 Like diamonds now in heaven's effulgent glow! 
 All doubts dissolve and melt like morning mist 
 Amid the gleaming walls of ametliyst. 
 The " Morning Star " is there, and in its beams 
 The nations wake from all their troubled dreams, 
 And every captive, hurt no more with chains, 
 Leaps to the joy of freedom's wide domains. 
 To one called " Wonderful " they give the praise, 
 
ESTHER. 
 
 26^ 
 
 Who once was lifted up amid the gaze 
 
 Of angels and of men, and now arrayed 
 
 In beauty, holdeth crowns of power displayed, 
 
 For those who wrought with him in tears and pain, 
 
 To sit with Hiiu in His dear throne and reign. 
 
 Hail royal nost ! ascended to your rest, 
 Hail victors all, ye nations of the blest. 
 
SEEKING TREASURE, 
 
 The mines are deep, 
 And rocky vaults the jewels keep; 
 
 And thou must answer which, 
 
 Wilt thou be poor or rich ? 
 Go down and dig wliere paths are dark and steep. 
 
 The gold is there, 
 And silver hid away witli care ; 
 
 Go down. 'Tis dark and damp ; 
 
 Go down with match and lamp, 
 And falling rock and hidden danger dare. 
 
 Beyond the ken 
 Of moving throngs of living men, 
 Go, like the miner grim, 
 
SEEKING TREASURE. 269 
 
 Through caverns cold and dim, 
 And stoop amid tlie gloomy columns. Then 
 
 With drill and blast 
 Break through the doors by rocks held fast ; 
 
 Bring out the shining ore, 
 
 Or farther depths explore, 
 Where buried lies the wealth of ages past. 
 
 Come back with spoil. 
 And show the wealth that comes of toil ; 
 
 The miner's dress lay off. 
 
 And hat and lantern doff ; 
 Put on the robes which labor may not soi\. 
 
 So out of sight 
 The soul goes down for gems of light ; 
 
 A dark and winding path 
 
 It seems, the way of faith ; 
 The gold is there, and there the jewels bright. 
 
 Down, christian, go; 
 The world above and thou below ; 
 
 Down where the daylight fades, 
 
 Is lost in. nether shades, 
 Where but the lamps of truth thy way may show, 
 
270 SEEKING TREASURE. 
 
 Lay off thy dress 
 Of worldly ease and sumptuousness. 
 
 What if the smear and murk 
 
 Shall soil thee at thy work, 
 And comforts fail and cares thy soul oppress ? 
 
 You seek for gold : 
 Clrasp all the wealth your hands can hold; 
 
 With bag and purse remain ; 
 
 Fill once and fill again ; 
 Be rich ; estates be yours of price untold. 
 
 Come up with joy, 
 Bring up the gold without alloy ; 
 
 Shake off the miner's dust, 
 
 The dross of care, and rust — 
 Let sweet beneficence be your employ. 
 
 Come forth erect. 
 And live and shine a prince elect; 
 
 And let the world behold 
 
 Your treasure and your gold. 
 As you the love and gi*ace of God reflect. 
 
LIKE A WEARY DOVE AT SEA. 
 
 Like a weary dove at sea 
 
 Art thou drooping in the storm, 
 Where for refuge caiist thou flee 
 
 But to Jesus' loving form? 
 O'er tlie waters wild and dark, 
 
 Prone amid tlie waves to fall, 
 Fly for safety to the ark, 
 
 Hear the gentle Savior call. 
 
 O'er the stormy sea in vain 
 
 Shalt thou seek for rest and home ; 
 Weary soul in sin and pain 
 
 O'er the billows cease to roam ; 
 Only one fond bark outbraves 
 
 AH the madness of the sea ; 
 
27^ LIKE A WEARY DOVE AT SEA, 
 
 Rest iu safety on the waves 
 In the ark that waits for thee. 
 
 Onward, o'er the surghig tide, 
 
 Christ shall bear thy troubled soul ; 
 He will all for thee provide 
 
 'Till no more the billows roll; 
 Come and fold thy weary wing. 
 
 Venture all on Jesus' love. 
 To the ark of safety cling 
 
 Like a weary trusting dove. 
 
 August 25, 1875. 
 
HID WITH CHRIST. 
 
 As the waters hide unseen 
 'Neath the hillsides fresh and green ; 
 May my soul be hid with Thee ; 
 Secret fountain, flow to me. 
 
 Chorus.— Savior let my spirit hide, 
 In the cleft rock to abide ; 
 Hid with Thee no harm I fear, 
 I am safe when Thou art near. 
 
 In the hiding of Thy hand 
 Though I tread a desert land, 
 Still my path is light and free, 
 For I journey still with Thee. 
 
274 HID WITH CHRIST. 
 
 I am Thine while I believe, 
 Thus I hide, and with Thee live. 
 Stay with me delightful guest, 
 Thou to me art peace and rest. 
 
 Hid with Thee 'till life shall end. 
 Ever be my dearest friend ; 
 When I tread the vale alone, 
 Hide me then and lead thine own. 
 
 November 15, 1875. 
 
ARCHIE, 
 
 AND HIS SIX CENT TESTAMENT. 
 
 Along a lone and woody road, 
 
 Far down in Tennessee, 
 A stranger on his liorse one day 
 
 Was riding leisurely, 
 And passed a cabin rude and old, 
 
 And poor as poor could be. 
 
 There, mounted on a log hard by, 
 
 A little fellow sat, 
 Who saw the stranger's slow approach 
 
 And peeped beneath his hat, 
 To see him rein his horse and pause, 
 
 As if to have a chat. 
 
276 ARCHIE, AND HIS SIX CENT TESTAMENT. 
 
 " What is your name, my boy ?" he said ; 
 
 " 'Tis Archie," said the lad. 
 He asked his age, and could he read, 
 
 And if he parents had ; 
 But all his story seemed forlorn, 
 
 A weary tale and sad. 
 
 " And do you know Lord Jesus Christ, 
 The friend of great and small?'' 
 
 " No," said the boy, " he does not live 
 Upon this road at all." 
 
 Poor woodlaud waif, he never heard 
 Sweet christian voices call. 
 
 " Another question, little boy, 
 
 Do people ever die 
 Who live along this road?" and while 
 
 He waited for reply, 
 He saw the little fellow wipe 
 
 A tear droji from his eye. 
 
 " O yes, my little sister died. 
 
 Not very long ago, 
 And when they laid her in the grave, 
 
 Down, down so very low, 
 
ARCHIE, AND HIS SIX CENT TESTAMENT. 277 
 
 They said I ne'er should see her more, 
 Nor more my sister know." 
 
 " It makes me cry to think that she 
 
 Must ever, ever stay 
 Down in the cold and lonesome grave, 
 
 Nor ever with me play ; 
 And many little thoughts I have 
 
 I cannot drive away." 
 
 " Nay, little boy, your sister lives, 
 
 She never more will die ; 
 They laid her body in the grave, 
 
 Her spirit rose on high ; 
 And she is with the shining ones, 
 
 With Jesus in the sky." 
 
 " This little book will tell you all , 
 
 I'll put it in your hand ; 
 If you will follow as it leads, 
 
 The dear Lord's great command ; 
 You may at last your sister know 
 
 In heaven's delightful land." 
 
 " How can I learn to read it, sir ? 
 My parents cannot read ; 
 
278 ARCHIE, AND HIS SIX CENT TESTAMENT. 
 
 And who will teach me what it tells 
 
 Or who my way will lead, 
 'Till I shall find my sister's home? 
 
 I want to go with speed." 
 
 It was a six cent testament 
 The good man gave to him ; 
 
 And as they parted out of sight 
 The eyes of both were dim ; 
 
 And all that night the poor boy dreamed 
 Of one with cherubim. 
 
 Five miles away, next Sunday morn, 
 Through tangled paths and wild, 
 
 With brown bare feet and air uncouth, 
 Went forth this woodland child ; 
 
 For ah, a strange and wondrous thought 
 Had all his heart beguiled. 
 
 " Where is the Sunday school, please tell, 
 Where boys can learn to read?" 
 
 He asked a stranger in the way, 
 AVho prone to kindly deed, 
 
 Said, " O'er the bridge, in yonder house, 
 And I the way will lead." 
 
ARCHIK, AND IlIS SIX CENT TESTAMENT. 279 
 
 They reached the threshold, where he stood, 
 
 And with an anxious loolv, 
 He asked the teacher, " can I learn 
 
 To read this little book ?" 
 " O yes, my boy," he kindly said, 
 
 And then his name he took. 
 
 Again the Sabbath morning came, 
 
 And many Sabbaths still, 
 But never want, or storm, or cold, 
 
 Could his warm ardor chill, 
 And won to study and to Christ, 
 
 He stronger grew until 
 
 His eyes were bright with christian hope ; 
 
 And where his parents dwelt 
 The voice of prayer and praise was heard, 
 
 And love of God was felt ; 
 And at that lowly cabin shrine 
 
 A loving household knelt. 
 
 Years passed away, and o'er the land 
 
 The dark rebellion rolled. 
 And millions of our country's braves 
 
 Went forth to pangs untold ; 
 
280 ARCHIE, AND HIS SIX CENT TESTAMENT. 
 
 And Freedom j^aid her awful price 
 In cost of blood and gold. 
 
 Down through a ward of wounded men, 
 
 A chaplain passed one day, 
 To cheer the weary boys in jtain, 
 
 Or at their bedsides pray ; 
 Or tal\e their messages of love, 
 
 To send far, far away. 
 
 Still on he passed, where hundreds moaned. 
 
 Poor wreclvs of battle strife ; 
 Where many a noble soul was poised 
 
 In doubt 'twixt death and life ; 
 Or held in arms of faith unseen 
 
 By mother, friend, or wife. 
 
 His daily errand nearly done 
 
 Within the hospital, 
 He heard a voice still down the ward, 
 
 A low and plaintive call, 
 And turned to see a weary form 
 
 That lay against the wall. 
 
 " I know you, chaplain !" said the voice, 
 " I've seen you once before ; 
 
ARCHIE AND HIS SIX CENT TESTAMENT. 28] 
 
 'Twas very long ago one day 
 
 You passed my father's door ; 
 You may forget, I never can ; 
 
 I bless you evermore." 
 
 '• I wish that I could take your hand ; 
 
 I lost mine yesterday ; 
 And in the dreadful fight we had, 
 
 They both were shot away ; 
 Come, Chaplain, sit awhile by me, 
 
 For I have much to say." 
 
 " I said you passed my father's door, 
 You stopped and talked with me ; 
 
 I was a poor, sad, wicked boy, 
 In rags and poverty ; 
 
 I had not heard of Jesus then, 
 No soul could darker be." 
 
 " You gave me, sir, a testament, 
 
 Though I had never read ; 
 And I remember well the words 
 
 You spoke of sister dead. 
 That she was not in earth beneath, 
 
 But in the heavens instead." 
 
282 ARCHIE AND HIS SIX CENT TESTAMENT. 
 
 " That little book, I have it still, 
 
 It led me to His feet. 
 Of whom I never heard until 
 
 The day we chanced to meet; 
 And true to him and country's flag, 
 
 I've never known retreat." 
 
 "Turn down the blanket. Chaplain, please. 
 
 It lies here on my breast ; 
 I told the nurse to put it there. 
 
 When he my wounds had dressed ; 
 Somehow I love to have it there. 
 
 It gives me peace and rest." 
 
 It was the same black covered book, 
 
 The gift of years ago ; 
 A seed along the wayside dropped, 
 
 In love and faith to grow ; 
 A golden sheaf which at the last. 
 
 The harvest home shall know. 
 
 The Chaplain and the soldier wept. 
 And tears of joy were they ; 
 
 " I'm growing weak," the soldier said, 
 " Perhaps I shall not stay ; 
 
AKCHIE AKD HIS SIX CENT TESTAMENT. 28S 
 
 But, Cliuplaiii, I am ready now, 
 And wait God's wiJl to-day." 
 
 The Chaplain begged the little book, 
 
 But " no," the soldier said ; 
 " Preserve it for my mother dear. 
 
 For here with me she ]-ead. 
 And learned the way to Him we love, 
 
 Who for us wept and bled." 
 
 '• Please tell her all my love for her ; 
 
 This little book will be 
 The comfort of her lonely life, 
 
 Till she shall come to me ; 
 Good bye, dear Chaplain, we shall meet 
 
 Where we shall Jesus see." 
 
 Next morn the soldier's form was still, 
 
 No kindred o'er him bent ; 
 But on his brow there seemed to be 
 
 A smile of sweet content ; 
 And nearest Archie's brave young heart, 
 
 His six cent testament. 
 July 21, 1S75. 
 
LESSON OF A SHEPHERD BOY 
 
 Among old Scotia's toweving cliffs, 
 A group of tourists strayed, 
 
 Delighted mid its lochs and glens, 
 In beauty wild arrayed. 
 
 They climbed amid the morning mists, 
 
 A rocky mountain side; 
 By wild upheavals rent and torn, 
 
 In chasms deep and wide. 
 
 Still up and on, with agile step, 
 They toward the summit trod, 
 
LESSON OF A SHKPHEKD BOY. 285 
 
 'Mid nature's gorgeous solitudes, 
 The fastnesses of God. 
 
 Upon a fearful precipice, 
 At length the adventurers stood ; 
 
 Which double walled reached far below, 
 An awful altitude. 
 
 They saw far down the creviced rocks, 
 
 Some flowers wild and sweet ; 
 But never hand might pluck them thence, 
 
 Excei)t by daring feat. 
 
 One only plan would reach the flowers, 
 
 And down the chasm cold, 
 The bravest one girt with a rope, 
 
 Must seize the trophies bold. 
 
 Not far below a shepherd boy 
 
 "Was sitting by his flocks ; 
 And him they tempted by rewards, 
 
 To try the wall of rocks. 
 
 They brought him to the startling brink. 
 
 But he in fear recoiled ; 
 And none was found to try the depth. 
 
286 LESSON OP A SHEPHERD BOY. 
 
 The day's high sport was spoiled. 
 
 At length a thought broke on his mlud, 
 His face was lit with hope ; 
 
 " I'll venture down the rocks," he said, 
 " If father holds the rope." 
 
 They bound him with a cable strong, 
 And swung him from the ledge; 
 
 And calm and fearlessly he sank, 
 Below the chasm's edge. 
 
 Down, down that awful depth of rocks 
 
 The father held his boy; 
 While he his bosom filled with liowers, 
 
 'Mid rapturous shouts of joy. 
 
 Down clouds and mists our Father hangs 
 
 His chain of promises ; 
 And from his holy height he draws 
 
 His children to the skies. 
 
 Our Father holds the " rope," Amen ! 
 
 The rocks are deep below, 
 But fearless we will swing and work. 
 
 Till heaven our trophies show. 
 
 1865. 
 
MY FIRST PASTORATE. 
 
 A score and five stern years of duty- 
 Have left rare images of beauty, 
 To hang upon the mystic wall, 
 Where I in love the jjast recall. 
 
 The dear old meeting-house then standing 
 Was not an edifice commanding ; 
 
 The pulpit stood between the doors, 
 And plain and carpetless the floors. 
 
 A lightning stroke had marred the steeple, 
 Where hung the bell that called the people 
 The gallery went round the church, 
 The old time lofty singing perch. 
 
MY FIRST PASTORATE. 
 
 The pews were high and quite old fashioned, 
 And often there from souls imiaassioned 
 
 " Aniens" were heard, devout and clear, 
 Which gave the px-eacher sacred cheer. 
 
 One Sabbath day in dull November, 
 
 At duty's call I well remember, 
 A timid youth, I stood before 
 The worshipers within the door. 
 
 Not loud, or long, I think tiie sermon, 
 Nor sparkling like the dews of Hermon ; 
 
 What wonder if the people sighed, 
 
 Or to endure the effort tried. 
 
 But I am sure mid labored saying, 
 There was the breath of silent praying ; 
 For ah, those feeble hands of mine 
 Were lifted up by power divine. 
 
 Dear fathers of the congregation, 
 
 I held them then in veneration ; 
 
 Though I have wandered far since then. 
 Mine eyes have seen no truer men. 
 
MY FIRST PASTORATE. 289 
 
 Dear mothers with their words of blessing, 
 Whose tender faith God's throne addressing, 
 Returned on me in blessed peace. 
 And gave my courage new increase. 
 
 And dear young friends of kindred feeling. 
 
 Made richer by the blest revealing 
 
 Of grace, that makes the heart a shrine 
 Of virtue pure, and truth divine. 
 
 Of those who joined the old time chorus, 
 Some now are silent ; gone before us ; 
 Beneath a higher temple dome. 
 They dwell forevermore at home. 
 
 The dear old temple's humble portal 
 They pass no more, but now immortal. 
 Complete the song begun below. 
 Which we must hear ere we shall know. 
 
 The word of testimony given, 
 
 Of pardoned sin, and hopes of heaven. 
 
 Of perfect love that knows no fear, 
 
 Oft fell delightful on my ear. 
 
290 MY FIRST PASTORATE. 
 
 The children then, who called me pastor, 
 A youthful servant of the Master, 
 
 Through walks of culture and of grace, 
 Have come to worthy fame and place. 
 
 Those happy children round me sitting, 
 Where light of memory is flitting, 
 Put on to-day the serious air 
 Of sturdy meu, and women fair. 
 
 Along the ruyged paths of duty, 
 In quiet homes of love and beauty, 
 In prairie land, by ocean gate, 
 They bless the (Jhurch, enrich the State. 
 
 But time has touched the dear old building, 
 Not with decay, but beauty's gilding ; 
 
 And art has crowned the blessed place. 
 With fair designs of skill and grace. 
 
 For words of cheer forgotten never, 
 Afiection's chords no hand can sever; 
 
 Where gentle hands helped trim the sail, 
 That since has weathered many a gale. 
 
1875. 
 
 MY FIRST PASTORATE. 291 
 
 Still in my heart of love enchanted, 
 It holds a place, and memory haunted, 
 The dear old church shall still abide, 
 Where I my choicest treasures hide. 
 
 They dwell, the living and departed. 
 Of royal soul and gentle hearted, 
 
 Within my soul, dear guests, at will ; 
 
 And there I hold and love them still. 
 
 Tlie years go on, and richer, dearer 
 The hoarded past ; with vision clearer 
 Of that fair land with gate of gold. 
 Where wait the friends we loved of old. 
 
 ■^^e^ 
 
THE BLACK KING. 
 
 I have been to his palace, and walked through his halls, 
 
 And stood in his ancient domain, 
 And dreamed of the wonders of the far ofTtime, 
 
 When the monarch began his reign. 
 
 Ah, never they wrote upon parchment then, 
 Though the scribe of the ages was there ; 
 
 But he traced on the sandstone his mystic tales, 
 And locked up the volume with care. 
 
 In vain do we look through libraries old, 
 Or search through their musty lore ; 
 
 For the legend of rocks is the only tale 
 
 Which we read of those days of yore. 
 
THE BLACK KING. 293 
 
 Of the birds which sang in his royal bowers, 
 We know not their plumage or song ; 
 
 And little Ave know of the monsters old, 
 
 Which roamed through his kingdom long. 
 
 And never a courtier came to his halls 
 
 To kneel at the foot of his throne ; 
 And the crowm which he wore on his royal days, 
 
 Was made of black diamonds alone. 
 
 Ah, long did he sit in his gloomy walls, 
 
 And waited his advent of power ; 
 And the ages rolled by as a silent flood, 
 
 Where he sat in his hoary tower. 
 
 And strangely he heard at his rocky gate, 
 
 A step he had never known ; 
 And he welcomed a form to his dark domain, 
 
 Where he had reigned so long alone. 
 
 He opened his gate and the stranger came in, 
 
 And gazed by the light of his lamp, 
 And he showed him his vaults of diamonds full, 
 
 Long buried in the cold and damp. 
 
294 THE BLACK KING. 
 
 And the old black king in his dingy walls, 
 
 By the aid of the stranger fair, 
 Has built him cities under the ground, 
 
 And has put on a modern air. 
 
 Like the kings of the earth, ahibitious and strong, 
 
 He brings to his silent domain 
 The thunder of power to waken the depths. 
 
 And the flash of the lightning train. 
 
 The old black king is the friend of us all. 
 
 And his diamonds they glitter and shine 
 
 In the halls of the rich, and the homes of the poor, 
 From the depths of many a mine. 
 
 He's a mighty old king and his treasures are large. 
 And he rules with a liberal hand ; 
 
 He is binding the nations with bands of love, 
 And long may his kingdom staiul. 
 
 'Tis a weird wild realm where he dwells and reigns. 
 And the sunlight comes never there; 
 
 But the light of the ages has entered the gloom, 
 The love-light of labor and prayer. 
 
THE BLACK KING. 295 
 
 And the grand old king has entered the march, 
 To help the world's coming renown ; 
 
 He urges the battle of freedom and right, 
 And scatters the gems of his crown. 
 
 He is loyal and true to the Lord of all realms. 
 And speedeth the ships o'er the sea ; 
 
 To the regions in darkness he beareth in haste 
 The leaves of life's wonderful tree. 
 
 I have been to his palace and stood in his halls, 
 
 In the regions far under the ground, 
 And looked in his vaults which he hid in his youth, 
 , In the silence and darkness profound. 
 
 Oldtemples are there, it would seem to me. 
 And their aisles are solemn and dim ; 
 The worship of ages steals over my soul, 
 Like an ancient cathedral hymn. 
 
 I have dreamed in his castles and thought of his power 
 
 This wonderful monarch of old. 
 And much I have marveled to think how he rules 
 
 From his throne in silence and cold. 
 
296 THE BLACK KING. 
 
 They vanish and fade, the gr^at and the strong ; 
 
 But on as the centuries roll, 
 The nations shall offer their tribute to him. 
 
 And honor our mighty king Coal. 
 
 ft-pril 29, 1873. 
 
 
THE OLD CARDING MILL. 
 
 It stood beside a silver stream. 
 
 And there for years it stood, 
 And echoed to my boyish songs, 
 
 In work or sportive mood ; 
 Wlien to my father's honest art 
 
 My youthful hands were trained. 
 That gave us bread, and our dear home 
 
 With every joy maintained. 
 O silent, silent, dear old mill. 
 My heart entwines around thee still. 
 
 There on the long sweet summer days, 
 
 From every vale and hill, 
 The matrons with their fleeces white 
 
 Would seek the distant mill ; 
 
298 THE OLD CARDING MILL. 
 
 And when the water wheel would play, 
 
 The dear and patient souls 
 Would watch with fondness and with smiles, 
 
 The long and shining rolls ; 
 Across the years I hear them still. 
 The echoes of the dear old mill. 
 
 The dear old mill is silent now. 
 
 Its hum is heard no more ; 
 The stream still dances, hurries on, 
 
 But stops not as before 
 To do kind work for young and old. 
 
 And give the strong employ, 
 As when I learned true labor's end, 
 
 A glad and sunny boy ; 
 Of all I met within the mill. 
 How many now are cold and still. 
 
 And he I loved, whose hand of care 
 
 Led me to manhood's prime, 
 Hath ceased his toil, and treads no more 
 
 The noisy paths of time ; 
 He taught me virtue's holy power 
 
 By his own manhood pure, 
 A legacy of nameless worth, 
 
THE OLD CARDING MILIi. 299 
 
 Thau wealth or fame more sure ; 
 The years pass on, and farther still 
 They leave behind the dear old mill. 
 
 Fond memories throng the early spot, 
 
 Where oft in joyous chime 
 My sisters joined with me in toil, 
 
 In life's sweet morning time ; 
 One sleeps ; retreating years have left 
 
 Her image painted there ; 
 Her spirit roams in happier fields. 
 
 Forever young and fair ; 
 Remoter yet, and fainter still, 
 The song is wafted from the mill. 
 
 Adieu, old mill, yet keep thj'^ place 
 
 In memory's silent hall. 
 No future can again revive 
 
 Thy loving labor call ; 
 For thou art mute, and soon decay 
 
 Will claim its power o'er thee, 
 But O, the loved, faith whispers now, 
 
 Shall meet eternally. 
 Abide ! old memories of the mill, 
 God's shield of love is o'er us still. 
 1861, 
 
A LOCAL ITEM. 
 
 Patrick B from drunken broil r- 
 
 While liis wife burns midniglit oil, 
 Waiting up three flights of stairs 
 Burdened witli consuming cares 
 Sits beside the baby sweet ; 
 Hark ! the tread of heavy feet, 
 
 Oath and bluster, storm and curse; 
 Hardly is a demon worse ; 
 Bursts the door and rushes in. 
 Mad with drink, and full of sin. 
 Flies in j^eril of her life. 
 Poor afTrighted, faithful wife. 
 
 At the bedside of the child 
 Stands the frantic man, and wild ; 
 
A LOCAL ITEM. 301 
 
 Takes the sleeijer, fond and soft, 
 Opens quick the window loft, 
 On the pavement hear a sound; 
 There u lifeless babe is found. 
 
 Just an item ; only that ; 
 Topic of a moment's chat. 
 While the Juggernaut still rolls, 
 Crushing out unnumbered souls, 
 Stains the streets with human gore; 
 Just an item, nothing more. 
 
 Where is justice? heavens! where? 
 
 Where is manhood ? speak and dare ! 
 
 Is the soul of honor fled ? 
 
 Is the public conscience dead? 
 
 Is this modern tige so tame 
 
 That it dare not utter " shame ?" 
 
 God of helpless children rise ! 
 Send out whirlwinds from the skies ; 
 Thunder down the heights of air. 
 Answer to the children's prayer; 
 All the help of man is vain, 
 While the weepers kiss their slain. 
 
302 A LOCAL itp:m. 
 
 Sovereign people will ye kneel, 
 Put yonr necks beneath the heel 
 Of the Oligarch and wait, 
 While he moves with tread of fate? 
 O how patient, O how meek ; 
 Sovereign j)eople, are ye weak ? 
 
 Who will show contempt of wrong? 
 Who will dare the proud and strong? 
 Let us take the solemn vow, 
 Nevermore to yield or bow, 
 While the great Mogul of lust 
 Tramples children in the dust. 
 1875. 
 
GERRIT SMITH. 
 
 It needetli not 
 To tell our grief, that we should wear 
 The costly badge arrayed with care, 
 Nor feign a silent, solemn air ; 
 
 In palace and in cot, 
 Alike the tender teardrops flow ; 
 We weep alone, and sad and slow, 
 We all as mourners seem to go. 
 
 Bring home the sage, 
 And lay him calmly down to rest ; 
 No more his manly, heaving breast 
 Shall bear the burdens of the oppressed. 
 
 The great lights of the age 
 Go out. The chieftains come no more ; 
 
304 GERRIT SMITH. 
 
 The breakers, dashing on the shore, 
 Familiar voices drown amid the roar. 
 
 No pageant here ; — 
 Tlie great need not tlie dull parade 
 Of catafalque and cavalcade, 
 So soon such costly lionors fade ; 
 
 A flower, a prayer, a tear. 
 Dear words of memory spoken low, 
 Fond tokens, these would we bestow, 
 And back to love and duty go. 
 
 A clarion tone 
 Is hushed. The battle marchers stand 
 And wait around, a tearful band, 
 Where death hath chilled a leader's hand ; 
 
 The hero's work is done ; 
 The victory this : — a nation's psalm, 
 In every ebon hand a palm. 
 And Freedom's azure clear and calm. 
 
 God called him out ; 
 He knew the voice ; what if he knew 
 The lure of wealth, his soul was true, 
 And he from paths of ease withdrew, 
 
OKRRIT SMITH. 305 
 
 And trod where fear aud doubt 
 Dismayed the weaker souls of men ; 
 He saw the goal Avith prophet's ken, 
 And led with fervid voice and pen. 
 
 What sacrifice 
 Of gold on Freedom's altar laid, 
 What answer when the needy prayed, 
 And shelter for the poor afraid ! 
 
 What scorn of low device ; 
 What lofty aim of statesman pure, 
 Of trust in God the wrong to cure ; 
 So shall his monument endure. 
 
 Yes, we shall miss 
 The great kind heart, the gentle tone, 
 That friend and stranger ever won ; 
 The work of Gerrit Smith is done ; 
 
 The snows of winter kiss 
 His new made tomb. He liveth yet ; 
 And shines in golden memories set, 
 To wear a fadeless coronet. 
 
 Dec. 31, 1874. 
 
ADMIRAL FARRAGUT. 
 
 Toll for the heroes ; 
 
 Weep for the great ; 
 Earth cannot hold them 
 
 Marching to fate ; 
 Onward and outward 
 
 Through the death-arch, 
 Noble and mighty, 
 
 Silent they march. 
 
 Proud roll of honor 
 
 Add a new name ; 
 Spirit of ocean 
 
 Thine is his fame ; 
 Drop all your pennons 
 
 Low on the sea ; 
 Stars of the Nation, 
 
 Light of the Free. 
 
ADMIRAL FARRAGUT. 307 
 
 Thunder of battle 
 
 Wakes him not now ; 
 Storms of the ocean 
 
 Shade not his brow ; 
 Outward and onward 
 
 Vanished a sail, 
 Forth to the Unknown 
 
 Borne by the gale. 
 
 Waves of the waters 
 
 Tossing your foam, 
 Ye were his brothers. 
 
 Ocean his home ; 
 Hark ! 'mid the rigging 
 
 The Admiral's shout. 
 With booming cannon 
 
 And wild wave's rout. 
 
 Hushed is the battle, 
 
 The path of the free 
 Is onward forever 
 
 O'er every sea ; 
 Peace to the Hero, 
 
 Calm be his sleep, 
 Freedom has triumphed 
 
 On land and deep. (August 1870.) 
 
CHARLES SUMNER. 
 
 The earth has thrones of power, 
 Not claimed by birth or dower, 
 Or built in palace hall, or kingly tower ; 
 And they who reach them cliiub by long ascent, 
 O'er rugged path, and hoary battlement, 
 "With holy aim intent. 
 
 To such a throne he came, 
 
 "Unheralded by fame ; 
 And made the throne illustrious by his name ; 
 It was no despot's rod he held for rule ; 
 No court he held of sycophant, or fool, 
 
 Or fawning vassal tool 
 
CHARLKS hUMNKK. 809 
 
 He spake and nations heard ; 
 
 No matin voice of bird 
 More sweetness had ; for it was Freedom's word, 
 That told of hope and joy to men oppressed. 
 And bore a promise to the aching breast 
 
 In bondage and unrest. 
 
 When urgent tongues of flame 
 
 Were needed in our shame 
 To charge the oligarch with words of blame, 
 Who stood like Sumner at the lion's mouth, 
 And dared the fury of the irate South ; 
 
 Or felt its scourgings wrdth ? 
 
 Who like the seers of old, 
 
 Proclaimed the wrongs untold. 
 Of God's own image vilely bought and sold ; 
 And stung with words of classic eloquence 
 The Southron's pride, till he with rank offence, 
 
 Uprose to violence? 
 
 There stood no braver form 
 
 In all the fiery storm ; 
 Nor heart that beat with higher ardor warm ; 
 What if no armed battalions leading out. 
 
310 CHARLES SUMNER. 
 
 He urged to combat with a warrior's shout, 
 No fear he knew or doubt. 
 
 With never sword or sliield, 
 
 He took the hottest field ; 
 And stood unawed where weaker souls would yield ; 
 But coward hands are deadlier than brave, 
 And Sumner droopeil beneath the stroke they gave 
 
 While pleading for the slave. 
 
 The blow recoiled, and he 
 
 Rejoiced at last to see 
 Ajar the temple gates of liberty ; 
 And ebon forms enfranchised marched with song. 
 From Egypt's land, and prison holds of wrong, 
 
 A glad exultant throng. 
 
 Not all on marble cold 
 
 Shall Sumner's fame be told ; 
 A million tender loving tablets hold 
 In memory his championship of right; 
 And evermore inscribed on Freedom's height, 
 
 His name shall live in light. 
 
THE TWO FLAGS. 
 
 Arraigned before a Cuban court, 
 
 For crimes against the State, 
 A son of English parents stood. 
 
 And citizen of late 
 Where Freedom floats her stripes and stars 
 
 O'er states confederate. 
 
 They counted him as one conspired 
 
 Against the Spanish crown, 
 And so he heard his sentence read, 
 
 And felt the royal frown ; 
 And far and near the news was spread 
 
 O'er sea and land and town. 
 
312 THE TWO FLAGS, 
 
 The consuls each, of Britain's throne, 
 
 And States American, 
 Believed the prisoner innocent, 
 
 And urged a sudden plan 
 To save him from a tragic death, 
 
 And vindicate the man. 
 
 But all entreaty was in vain ; 
 
 The Spaniards yielded not ; 
 Already had they dug his grave, 
 
 And marked the fatal spot 
 Where he should stand amid their scorn, 
 
 And fall by rifle shot. 
 
 By martial order came the guards ; 
 
 And now with pinioned hands 
 The prisoner walks with solemn tread, 
 
 And at the death mark stands, 
 With soldiers drawn in line. "Present !" 
 
 An officer commands. 
 
 The level guns are at his breast. 
 
 And wait the fatal word ; 
 While every soldier's eye is fixed, 
 
 With not a muscle stirred, 
 
Tirfi TWO FI.AGS. 313 
 
 Until the guardsman's lips shall move, 
 And " Fire !" at last be heard. 
 
 A solemn hush is on the scene, 
 
 And every heart beats low ; 
 A moment, and a human soul 
 
 Beyond the realms we know. 
 Shall quivering leave its loved abode, 
 
 And to the unknown go. 
 
 But hark ! a rustle in the crowd. 
 
 The soldier line falls back ; 
 The English consul forward leaps, 
 
 And bears the " Union Jack ;" 
 Another holds the stripes and stars, 
 
 And follows on his track. 
 
 The first throws o'er the culprit's form 
 
 The flag of England's might ; 
 And lo, the consul of the Free 
 
 Brings all his stars of light ; 
 The prisoner wrapped in double folds 
 
 Protected is by right. 
 
 " Fire not a gun ! one bullet hole 
 In you proud emblem spread, 
 
314 THK TWO FLAGS. 
 
 Shall rend the land with shouts of war 
 And strew the earth with dead ; 
 
 Touch not the lion in his rage, 
 Nor wake his anger dread." 
 
 "Touch not the banner of the Free ; 
 
 Harm not a single star ; 
 Who dares to pierce yon brilliant folds 
 
 Brings veugence from afar ; 
 And naval fleets shall crowding come 
 
 Across yon harbor bar." 
 
 Aground the level guns were brought; 
 
 O'erawed was Spanish hate ; 
 And backward from that open grave 
 
 The poor man turned elate ; 
 And through his tears looked on the flags 
 
 That saved him from his fate. 
 
 And he marched back to liberty, 
 Between two arms of power, 
 
 While Spanish guards took oflf'his chains 
 In fear that very hour ; 
 
 And murmurs of applause went round 
 From street, and wharf, and tower. 
 
THE TWO FLAGS. 315 
 
 So came the Consul of the skies: 
 
 The world's Ambassador : 
 And holds the banner of our King 
 
 To shield us evermore ; 
 And leads us back from death condemned, 
 
 To His own mansion door. 
 
 Tlie fires of sin and hell are hushed, 
 
 And Satan's arm is held, 
 Where Jesus with his ensign comes 
 
 By dying love impelled. 
 And lays it on our pinioned souls, 
 
 Until our foes are quelled. 
 
 Ye captives, bound in every land, 
 
 In worse than Spanish chains. 
 Our j)rayer of faith shall bring your Prince 
 
 To wrest you from your pains ; 
 And ye may hide in those dear folds 
 
 That bear his bloody stains. 
 
 187= 
 
SET THINE HOUSE IN ORDER." 
 
 " Set thine house in order ;" 
 The hour (h'aws nigh 
 When thou shalt die ; 
 Hark thou my soul and ponder, 
 Tliou liast no time to s(j[uander ; 
 The coming of tlie Master 
 Will bring tliee sore disaster, 
 If at tlie early morning, 
 Without a note of warning. 
 He come in thy deep slumber, 
 And thus thy short years number; 
 
 How couldst thou rise thy Lord to meet, 
 
 Not ready for his coming feet. 
 
 " Set thine house in order," 
 
 And from thy hoard 
 
 Prepare thy board ; 
 For soon a guest immortal 
 Will enter at thy portal ; 
 
''set thine house in order." 317 
 
 And clad in kingly beauty 
 
 Will question thee of duty ; 
 
 Of vows to him once plighted, 
 
 Or golden mercies slighted ; 
 
 How wilt thou then be able 
 
 To serve l.ini at thy table 
 If sin thy house and heart defile, 
 And all thy garniture be vile. 
 
 " Set thine house in order ;" 
 His robes are white 
 With shining light; 
 
 And though thy house be lowly, 
 
 If garnished kept and holy, 
 
 He will come in and bless thee, 
 
 And lovingly confess thee, 
 
 Will bid thee rise and sever 
 
 Tliese earthly bonds forever; 
 
 And passing through the valley. 
 
 Himself will be thine ally, 
 Until the dangers all are past. 
 You reach his I'oyal house at last. 
 
 " Set thine house in order;" 
 At night or noon. 
 When sun or moon 
 
318 " SET THINE HOUSE IN ORDER. 
 
 Throw down their sweetest shadows 
 Across the summer meadows, 
 Or when the ah' is teaming 
 With winter's crystals gleaming, 
 A sweeter light may charm thee, 
 Or deeper gloom alarm thee, 
 For soon the silence breaking 
 Shall come a strange awaking ; 
 The proudest domes of earth shall fall, 
 And darkness hide their ruins all 
 
 " Set thine house in order ;" 
 Then work or wait 
 Till Christ in state 
 Shall call at thy low dwelling ; 
 Above the bell's low knelling, 
 Which close thy mortal story, 
 A child new born in glory 
 Shall gladden angel measures 
 With newer, sweeter pleasures ; 
 And thou shalt find in order 
 Thy house beyond the border. 
 Where evermore God's city stands, 
 A palace fair not built with hands. 
 
THE WAIF OF THE RAIL CAR. 
 
 An evening train passed out well laden, 
 And there were seated wife and maiden ; 
 Some rode for business, some for pleasure, 
 A precious freight of love and treasure ; 
 To mirth and joy were some inclined 
 And others seemed of sober mind. 
 
 The brisk conductor at his duty 
 Failed not to wait on age and beauty ; 
 And as he passed, a child just seated 
 Looked up, and with soft voice repeated, 
 " Please sir, may I lie down just here ?" 
 While on her eyelid shone a tear. 
 
 Her tones, so simple and so tender, 
 Her form so delicate and slender, 
 
320 THE WAIF OF THE RAIL CAR. 
 
 A little budget for her idIIIow, 
 He saw a waif upon life's billow , 
 Ami looking in her soft blue eye 
 He said, " O yes," in kind reply ; 
 
 Then asked her ticket, but no chiding 
 As the poor child looked up confiding, 
 And told a little tale of pity, 
 How she had wandered to the city, 
 
 Until her tender feet were worn ; 
 
 A child it seemed to sorrow born. 
 
 " But, little girl, where are you going?" 
 The kind conductor said, thus showing 
 A sweet concern for one a stranger. 
 And left a prey to want and danger ; 
 
 " I'm going to heaven," she gently said, 
 " To find mamma, for she is dead." 
 
 •' And does this railroad lead to heaven? 
 
 And is the fare to poor folks given ? 
 
 Does Jesus travel here and lead us, 
 
 Where He will love us all and feed us? 
 My mother used to sing to me 
 About a railroad all so free." 
 
THE WAIF OF THE RAIL CAB. 321 
 
 "She said they stopped at eveiy station, 
 And took tlie poor of every nation ; 
 I found this road, I saw no otlier, 
 And got on board to go to motlier ; 
 
 I thouglit that this the road might be, 
 
 You tallied so very kind to me." 
 
 " Have you a little girl, dear Mister? 
 
 And when at home you've met and kissed her, 
 
 Do you sit down and sing of heaven. 
 
 And Jesus' love to sinners given? 
 
 As my dear mother used to sing 
 
 When I was but a little thing ?" 
 
 Hot tear drops filled his eyelids drooping, 
 And o'er the little wanderer stooping 
 He said, " I had a darling Lillie ; 
 But death with cruel hand and chilly 
 
 Took our dear pet from us away, 
 
 And Lillie is in heaven to-day." 
 
 " Did LiUie take this railroad, Mister, 
 To go where angels call her sister? 
 And are you going there to meet her, 
 And shall I tell her you will greet her ? 
 
322 THE WATF OF THE RAITj CAK. 
 
 I wish that you would go with me, 
 And witli your Lillie ever be." 
 
 They gathered round the child to listen, 
 And eyes with tears were seen to glisten ; 
 While heaven seemed near the coach in motion, 
 With holy thought and deep devotion. 
 
 *' God bless the little girl," they prayed. 
 And on her head soft hands were laid. 
 
 "I know that Jesus won't forget me, 
 
 •And in my mother's arms will set me ; 
 
 The fare is paid, and Jesus paid it. 
 
 And all may go, for Jesus said it ; 
 I wish that all the people too 
 Would go with me and go with you," 
 
 " Please Mister, now 'tis time for sleeping ;" 
 And still the kind conductor weeping, 
 She said, " now will you come and shake me, 
 And from my sleep will you awake me? 
 I want to stop at heaven's gate, 
 I think mamma for me will wait." 
 
 " Good night, dear Mister ; when your Lillie 
 Asks ' did you see my papa? will he 
 
THE WAIF OP THE RAIL CAR. 323 
 
 Come soon to see his little daughter?' 
 
 What shall I tell her by the water, 
 
 Where angels walk on golden strand, 
 When I shall take her by the hand ?" 
 
 Fresh sobs. But hark ! the bell is ringing ; 
 
 H s ! the brakeman's voice is singing ; 
 
 The scene is changed, and stranger faces 
 Have gathered to the vacant places. 
 
 But whither, whither little waif? 
 
 God knoweth all ; God keep her safe. 
 
 ^s- 
 
ROBERT ANNAN. 
 
 Robert Annan was a Scotchman, 
 And he lived at old Dundee; 
 
 Toiling daily in a woodyard, 
 Loved for honest worth was he. 
 
 One day came a sweet child playing, 
 And he wandered but too near 
 
 Where the tempting waters lured him, 
 And he fell below the pier. 
 
 Swift the current flowing outward, 
 Bore away the struggling cliild ; 
 
 Hel])less thing upon the billows 
 Tossing angrily and wild. 
 
ROBERT ANNAN. 325 
 
 From the woodyard whei'e he labored, 
 
 Annan chanced to see his fall, 
 And he ran with noble impulse 
 
 At the little sufferer's call. 
 
 Hat and coat he threw off quickly, 
 
 With one boot alone removed, 
 Quick he plunged beneath the waters 
 
 For a child somebody loved. 
 
 Soon he reached the child, and grasjied it, 
 
 Swimming- nobly with one arm ; 
 And he pushed across the harbor. 
 
 Strong and calm amid alarm. 
 
 Onward! forM^ard ! toward the landing, 
 Every moment brought him near ; 
 
 Now almost he strikes the timbers 
 Of the strong and welcome pier. 
 
 Three yards more, and Robert Annan, 
 
 With his more than golden prize, 
 Shall be crowned a living victor ; — 
 
 Cheer on cheer, the plaudits rise 
 
326 ROBERT ANNAN, 
 
 See that crested billow coming ; 
 
 See, ah, see it onward sweep, — 
 Will brave Robert Annan mount it 
 
 And upon the landing leap ? 
 
 On the ocean fury cometh ; 
 
 What for man or boy cares she? 
 And she bears them like a feather 
 
 Backward to the cruel sea. 
 
 Nobly yet brave Robert Annan 
 Battled with the billows w,ild, 
 
 Smiting with one hand the waters, 
 And the other on the child. 
 
 Farther, farther from the landing, 
 Him the under current drew, 
 
 Till at length he fainting faltered, 
 And he saw but death in view. 
 
 Then he tender as a mother, 
 Flatwise laid the child to float. 
 
 And he sank beneath the billows 
 Just as came a rescue boat. 
 
EGBERT AKNAN. 327 
 
 Strong bands seized the boy so quickly 
 
 Tbat bis little life remained, 
 But those hands all trembled strangelj% 
 
 And those manly hearts were pained. 
 
 For their comrade they drew sleeping 
 
 From beneath the harbor wave ; 
 And they laid brave Robert Annan 
 
 In a tear-be'*prinkled grave. 
 
 And the great bell of the steeple 
 
 Rang out sad and mournfully, 
 While the people wept a hero 
 
 In the woodman of Dundee. 
 
CENTENNIAL ODE. 
 
 A hundred years have rolled 
 Their green and gold 
 Across the mountains grand and old, 
 And on the hills, a hundred times in white, 
 The winter king has dropped his crown of light 
 To answer back the myriad stars of night. 
 Since at their altars bowed, 
 Our fathers vowed, 
 And rang the Itells of Freedom loud. 
 
 Across the sea they heard ; 
 And George the Third 
 Prepared his royal sword to gird. 
 And sent his caj^tains, and his ships of war, 
 To rear his standard at each harbor bar. 
 And plant his guns at forest gates afar ; 
 
CENTENNIAL ODE. 329 
 
 While ocean beach replied, 
 And mountain side 
 With Freedom's shout unterrifled. 
 
 The British Lion curled, 
 And 'round the world, 
 The stars and stripes were wide unfurled ; 
 And now our second "Seventy-six" we hail ; 
 The grand old century goes out. The tale 
 Of all its deeds lives on, and shall not fail ; 
 Its heroes live enthroned. 
 Their fame intoned 
 By priests, and bards, of Freedom owned. 
 
 Great century of deeds, 
 Of pregnant seeds 
 To strew the mountains and the meads 
 Of all the teeming lands, and all the years, 
 Until the golden age of earth appears, 
 Seen o.er the hills of doubt by holy seers ; 
 Old century farewell. 
 With dying knell , 
 The coming age thy fame will tell. 
 
 What tidings at the gates 
 Wlieie morning waits? 
 
330 CENTENNIAL ODE. 
 
 The years come on, with vast estates ; 
 What vision, watchman, standing on the height? 
 Look down the Eastward slopes ; wliat of the night? 
 What bring the years of truth, and peace, and right? 
 vVhat new evangel, say, 
 Wings on its way, 
 To bring tlie eartli a brighter (hiy ? 
 
 Tlie great RepubUe turns 
 From sculptured urns. 
 And patriot graves o'er which she yearns 
 To greet the coming heroes yet unborn ; 
 Or prattling now percliance in life's young morn, 
 To lead at last a nation's hope forlorn ; 
 Or joining bold crusade, 
 On God's arm staid, 
 Drive back new terrors to the shade. 
 
 What struggles for us yet ; 
 Shall we forget 
 The use of sword and bayonet ; 
 And from the potent brain and trusting heart 
 Shall we leap forward to the heights of art, 
 And in all contests take the victor's part? 
 And win b.y love and faith 
 
CENTENNIAL ODE. 331 
 
 The royal path 
 "With never trail of blood and scath? 
 
 Come nations, to our feast ! 
 From West, from East, 
 From greatest peoples to the least ; 
 Come from the lands of kings and emperors ! 
 Come o'er the highways to our festal shores! 
 Our silver mountains see, our golden ores ; 
 And prairie gardens spread 
 With millions fed, 
 Beneath our Blue tyid White and Red. 
 
 Mikado from your throne, 
 So long unknown, 
 Your princes send ; a nation grown 
 From yesterday invites your shaven lords 
 To gather with us at our banquet boards ; 
 Czar, Sultan, Caliph, come and leave your swords; 
 Khedive and Rajah hear 
 P'rom far, from near. 
 Accept our greeting and our cheer. 
 
 Old classic lands, this way ! 
 
 And bring, we pray. 
 
 The relics of your ancient sway ; 
 
332 CENTENNIAL ODE. 
 
 Here let the old and new in union blend.; 
 Let land to land its kindly greeting send, 
 And isle to isle the hand of love extend ; 
 Beneath our glad roof tree 
 The song shall be 
 Of union, love, and liberty. 
 
 Columbia, whither now ? 
 Star decked thy brow ; 
 Still true to Freedom's early vow, 
 Say, shall the land of Washington remain, 
 And hold the trophies of her blood and pain ? 
 And in the spirit of her Lincoln slain 
 Still burst the fetters strong 
 Of sin and wrong, 
 With shouts of jubilee and song? 
 
 Still loyal to thy Lord, 
 And his own word, 
 With plowshare mightier than sword, 
 Still pressing upward to His mountain throne, 
 There wilt thou drop His golden corn aione. 
 Until the fruit shall shake like Lebanon, 
 And all the earth shall see 
 The jubilee 
 Of lands enfranched all like thee. 
 
(CENTENNIAL ODE. 333 
 
 At anchor by the quay ; 
 111 every bay, 
 Or dashing through mid-ocean spray, 
 Let every ship raise all its colors high 
 And write the joy on all the arching sky ; 
 A hundred years we sing of victory ; 
 Spread out the banquet wide, 
 With gifts supplied 
 From Him who doth for all provide. 
 
 Your censors, golden land, 
 Bring strong of hand ; 
 And full of heart, 'tis God's command. 
 Let prayer go up, as goes the morning mist 
 And wait within the wall of amethyst, 
 To fill! in golden showers as God shall list ; 
 And Christ invited in, 
 Shall here begin 
 His reign, and all the nations win. 
 
 Ian. I, 1876. 
 
^;: ' , :■' [". "y"'''' -y'fi^'?^^^ 
 
 «KS!«ii«i!iia5!««5fe;4KaiJ2;SSSSS!^^