^i 
 
 
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 
 
 d^np. (JupjnB^ri/it. 
 
 Shelf.,- 
 
 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 
 

 :a. 
 
 
^Weet ^(iiT)iT)er [apd. 
 
 AN IDYL. 
 
 (§X§)^\^ 
 
 BY 
 
 Mrs. Florence Watson. 
 
 DENVER, COLO. 
 
 THE CHAIN .*t HARDY CO. 
 
 1893 
 
P53i5r 
 
 
 COPYRIGHTED, 
 
 1886, 
 
 
 BY 
 
 
 [RS. 
 
 FLORENCE 
 
 watsOn, 
 
 ^' 
 
 
 
TO 
 
 MY HUSBAND 
 
 WJiose CompanionsJiip, SyinpatJiy and Kindly Love are 
 my greatest eartlily blessings, this poem is Affec- 
 tionately Inscribed, witli the consciousness 
 that, poetically, my endeavors have 
 come too short of my 
 desires. 
 
 F. W. 
 
Sweet Summer Land 
 
 BY MRS. FLORENCE WATSON 
 
 HE Winter, chilling to the veins, 
 .^ And Spring, so full of fitful rains, 
 Are conquered by the winning grace 
 And sunshine of the Summer's face, 
 Have given up their gloomy reign — 
 And Summer Sweet is Queen again! 
 She calls the birds, with gentle voice: 
 "Come, birdies, come; with me rejoice — 
 With me be glad, be gay, be bright! 
 I've changed the earth from gloom to light 
 I've spread a green robe for your feet, 
 And clothed each tree and shrub complete 
 With leafy verdure, rich and neat. 
 I've waked the drowsy, sleeping sod. 
 
2 SWEET SUMMER LAND. 
 
 And Nature — wondrous work of God 
 
 Brings from her store-house garlands fine, 
 
 And decorates this land of mine. 
 
 Her colors sparkle everywhere, 
 
 On hill, in vale and woodland fair; 
 
 And all along my garments' hem 
 
 She fastened many a budding gem 
 
 Of gleaming purple Amethyst, 
 
 And dewy turquoise, violet kissed; 
 
 Of pearls and brilliant garnets bright. 
 
 Sapphires with mild translucent light — 
 
 Emeralds clear, and opals cold — 
 
 And yellow daisy stars of gold. 
 
 Shining, as though dropped through the bars 
 
 Of heaven, in a shower of stars, 
 
 Or like the apples on the trees 
 
 Watched over by Hesperides." 
 
 And calling thus with loving voice, 
 
 The birdies hear her and rejoice 
 
 To come away from a far clime 
 
SWEET SUMMER LAND. 
 
 Where they were banished for a time 
 
 By the bleak breath that winter sends 
 
 To chase away the Summer's friends: 
 
 And in these halcyon, sunny days 
 
 They fill the air with rapturous lays 
 
 That echo sweetly, purely clear, 
 
 In transports to the ravished ear. 
 
 Once more the foliage decks the vine 
 
 That 'round the old porch doth entwine. 
 
 With clinging tendrils, creeping o'er 
 
 The lattice work around the door. 
 
 Reaching across the window's edge 
 
 It points toward the poplar hedge 
 
 That rears aloft its slender spires, 
 
 All trembling in the winds' desires. 
 
 The leaves of glossy greenness rare, 
 
 Seem part and parcel of the air 
 
 That waves the leaflets to and fro — 
 
 That comes from whence no one doth know, 
 
 And goeth whither none can go. 
 
1 ' 
 
 'f EH OLD the flower garden bright! 
 ^j^^^ A gladsome satisfying sight- 
 
 /fC*te^ Where modest pinks blush 'neath the eye 
 
 y Of flaming coxcomb waving high, 
 
 And thoughtful pansies nod their heads 
 To us from out their shady beds. 
 The sweet alyssum, mignonette; 
 The cypress — symbol of regret — 
 Grows close beside the rivulet 
 That runs its slender thread across 
 The garden, like a gleam of floss. 
 The rose geranium fragrant stands — 
 Its leaves outspread like little hands 
 In benediction raised to bless 
 The flowers that grow% and bloom scentless. 
 The rich perfume it sends abroad — 
 A special gift to it from God — 
 Freely received is freely given, 
 Thus teaching us a law of heaven. 
 The green syringa bushes, tall. 
 
6 SWEET SUMMER LAND. 
 
 That lean against the inner wall, 
 Are full of waxen blossoms white; 
 And down the walk, toward the right, 
 Blooms heliotrope, verbena, phlox. 
 And variegated four-o'clocks 
 That open wide their languid eyes 
 When day declines and sunlight flies. 
 While to the left the lily blows 
 In quiet grace and cool repose. 
 And just beyond, the brier rose. 
 Here, in the brightest sunniest spots, 
 Are blue-bells and forget-me-nots; 
 The color of their azure eyes. 
 The sweet reflections from the skies. 
 From out a moss-embowered urn 
 Grows maiden-hair and other fern. 
 Their fringy lashes quivering 
 With gladness, as they gently swing 
 Backward, and forward, in the breath 
 That Summer wafts to them, as 'neath 
 The sunny dome she wanders forth 
 To cheer, and beautify the earth. 
 
|;^ll(XD here the arbor — where the vine 
 ^4e Of ivy and clematis twine 
 
 , Like love's endeared companionship 
 & Of heart to heart, or lip to lip — 
 Inviting stands to welcome those 
 Who seek its shelter and repose. 
 An aged man, with snow-white hair, 
 Often is seen to enter there, 
 And occupy its rustic chair. 
 In calm enjoyment underneath 
 The leafy, tangled, clinging wreath 
 That close shuts out the sun's hot rays. 
 He sits and dreams of other days, 
 Of other scenes, and other flowers. 
 Unmindful of the passing hours. 
 In blest reflections of content 
 The past is with the present blent. 
 There glides before his vision dim 
 The friends that childhood gave to him; 
 He seems again a boy with boys, 
 At play with bat, and ball, and toys. 
 
8 SWEET SUMMER LAND. 
 
 At hide and seek; happy are they 
 As robins in the month of May, 
 Whose present joys of keen delight 
 Hides the dark future from their sight — 
 That future when some hunter grim 
 Shall aim a shot at heart or limb — 
 A shot unerring in its skill — 
 That ivoiinds where 'er it fails to kill. 
 
 And then to him comes manhood's years, 
 
 So fraught with varied hopes, and fears, 
 
 A lover in his early prime, 
 
 He woos, again, his Madaline, 
 
 Who, when she's won and wedded, seems 
 
 The ideal of his pictured dreams — 
 
 A helpmate in the truest sense — 
 
 Giving his heart sweet recompense 
 
 Of love, for love's divine incense. 
 
 His home is better, brighter far 
 
 Than fame or fortune's beck'ning star; 
 
 And his young children clustered there, 
 
 Under his kind protecting care. 
 
SWEET SUMMER LAND. 
 
 Are taught by precept and example 
 
 To choose the right, the wrong to trample; 
 
 To li\'e at peace with one another 
 
 And all mankind. While she, their mother- 
 
 The gentle, patient, loving guide — 
 
 Dearer to him than aught beside, 
 
 Opens the Book divinely given, 
 
 And teaches them the way to heaven. 
 
 At e\'ening, when the day is done. 
 
 She hears the prayers of each dear one; 
 
 Clasps their fair forms in close embrace, 
 
 Imprints a kiss upon each face. 
 
 Then leaves them in their beds to sleep, 
 
 Praying, " Darlings, may you God keep." 
 
^ 
 
 HEN comes a time — a dreary time- 
 When clouds shuts out the home sunshine. 
 
 m 
 
 The eldest born — a noble boy, 
 A source of comfort, pride and joy — 
 Sickens and dies, and leaves the fold. 
 His age scarce thirteen years — all told. 
 
 ( Soliloquy.) 
 
 " So young, so beautiful, so fair, 
 (With gleams of sunlight in his hair,) 
 Our joy was he, our heart's delight. 
 With happy face a-beaming bright. 
 He left us one Spring morn', .to play 
 With little comrades 'cross the way. 
 W^e knew not that a fell disease 
 Was floating in the passing breeze- 
 That his dear face w^ould soon be hid 
 Under the folds of a coffin lid. 
 
 He came from play at evening time. 
 When vesper bells rang out their chime, 
 His dark eyes gleaming with a light 
 That shone unnaturally bright; 
 
SWEET SUMMER LAND. 
 
 The fever hue burned in his cheek, 
 And in the space of one short week 
 His eyelids closed; his fleeting breath 
 Was stilled by that dread victor, Death; 
 And here he lies, his sweet face hid 
 Under the folds of a coffin lid. 
 
 Yes, he is gone, our earliest joy. 
 Our darling, dark-eyed, manly boy; 
 God called him home because 'twas best 
 To take him up where angels rest 
 In fields elysium, heaven's own land; 
 Beyond the borders of time's strand. 
 Where saints enjoy the heavenly day. 
 Tills, that remains, is naught but clay. 
 Which lieth here from our sight hid 
 Under the folds of a coffin lid. 
 
 Lord, yet we pray, 'Thy will be done!' 
 
 Though lonely now we journey on. 
 
 We know, to mourn for him is vain. 
 
 To live is loss, to die is gain. 
 
 Still lead us. Father, unto Thee, 
 
 Where, from all suffering set free. 
 
 We'll praise Thy name on that blest shore 
 
 Where death and parting is no more, 
 
 Where faces nevermore are hid 
 
 Under the folds of a coffin lid." 
 
HE scene is shifted, and again 
 
 Comes weary days of loss and pain 
 Other dear ones leave the home nest 
 To seek the land of endless rest. 
 She, who had been his helpful guide. 
 No longer lingers by his side. 
 The light has vanished; she has gone; 
 Earth's shadows deep, have darker grown 
 Around him, and he walks alone. 
 Yet trusts that, in the world divine, 
 Her light will never cease to shine; 
 That with the loved ones she awaits 
 The opening of the Opal Gates, 
 When he shall enter, join the throng. 
 And sing with them that wondrous song 
 Which heaven's angels love to sing 
 Around the throne of God our King. 
 He passes his declining days 
 W^ith Amy — daughter dear in ways 
 Of kindness and humility — 
 Whose children climb their grandsire's knee. 
 
14 
 
 SWEET SUMMER LAND. 
 
 With loving words of childish glee. 
 
 Old age, for him, is full of peace. 
 
 His heart has learned the sweet surcease 
 
 Of sorrow; and he waits the change 
 
 With resignation passing strange — 
 
 A resignation which shall tell 
 
 In hour of death that "all is well." 
 
 Beyond the flower-garden, where 
 The orchard trees wave in the air, 
 All nature smileth, calm and fair. 
 The Astrachans, with cheeks of red. 
 Glance down at us from overhead. 
 While at our feet the clover blooms 
 Send outward honeyed perfumes. 
 Tempting the bees from out their hive 
 Until the blossoms are alive 
 With them; each working with a will. 
 Extracting sweets with wondrous skill. 
 Or flying back and forth the while. 
 In just the same old-fashioned style 
 Of dress, and manner, that they had 
 When the first honeycomb was made. 
 
SWEET SUMMER LAND. 
 
 And in the pasture meadow green, 
 
 The cows, all busily, are seen 
 
 With heads bent downward to the ^rround, 
 
 Eating the grass that there is found; 
 
 Or wandering onward to the brook, 
 
 Where, in a shady, sheltered nook, 
 
 They drink their fill, contented quite, 
 
 W^ith not a care from morn to night. 
 
 The world to them is never strange. 
 
 No matter how the seasons change. 
 
 In Summer's sun, or Winter's chill, 
 
 ' Tis but the same world to them still. 
 
 Just so they get their daily feed 
 
 They have no other wish or need. 
 
 And to the slaughter they are led 
 
 Without a fear of death, or dead. 
 
 Year after year they are the same, 
 
 Without a thought from whence they came, 
 
 Or whither go they at the last, 
 
 When life's declining day is past. 
 
 But man lives, moves and has his being 
 
 JVith muui far-reaclii)ig and far-seeing; 
 
 With brain that thoughtfully invents 
 
1 6 SWEET SUMMER LAND. 
 
 Wonderful fashioned instruments 
 Of curious workmanship complete, 
 From microscope to engine neat, 
 From pleasure boat to steamer fleet; 
 And these, the careful, willing hand. 
 Perfected after they were planned— 
 Ah! tell me not, thou Infidel, 
 There is no Heaven where Spirits dwell 
 No God. no living soul divine ! 
 Are %vc not better far than kine? 
 Are ivc not conscious of a power 
 Within, and with us every hour. 
 Which teaches us we are superior 
 To creatures made so much inferior? 
 No cares have tlicy, no doubts, no fears. 
 No vain regrets for vanished years; 
 No looking forward to a change 
 Beyond the earthly visions range. 
 Wc conscious live; and by and by. 
 Our bodies fail us and we die; 
 But something tells our hearts within, 
 That we shall surely live again, 
 To which we answer Ye.\, Amen! 
 
I^^H^EE yonder hilltops ! How they gleam 
 
 With brightness, in the morning's beam 
 
 in, That smiles upon a charmmg town 
 .fl Within a valley slanting down 
 Toward a happy, singing river 
 Where prisoned sun rays leap and quiver 
 Through branches of the trees of beech 
 That stretch their arms as if to reach 
 Each other 'cross the shining stream. 
 That flows its shady banks between. 
 The dwellers of this pleasant town, 
 Content to live without renown, 
 Have wealth of kindness and good deeds 
 To give to him that really needs; 
 And never ha\'e the sick, or poor, 
 Been turned unmindful from their door. 
 Blest charit}% with open hands, 
 Beside each fireside meekly stands 
 To soothe, to comfort and to bless 
 The ones who seek her comfortless. 
 Alternate joys and sorrows meet, 
 
1 8 SWEET SUMMER LAND. 
 
 And births and deaths their tales repeat. 
 Pain, gladness, suffering and mirth, 
 Are here, as everywhere on earth, 
 And people live from year to year 
 With much to hope for, little to fear. 
 
 Across the bridge and up the hill 
 
 A silent city, lone and still. 
 
 Stands out against the Summer sky, 
 
 In solemn, quiet sanctity. 
 
 No noise is heard within its streets. 
 
 No joyous steps, no low heart beats. 
 
 No men of business come and go. 
 
 As in that village just below. 
 
 No laughter ever greets the ear, 
 
 No sob nor moan. No falling tear 
 
 Is seen, for all the dwellers there. 
 
 Forever freed from grief and care. 
 
 Peacefully rest with folded hands 
 
 In silence that the grave commands. 
 
 The spires that point their gleaming white 
 
 Skyward, so spectral day and night, 
 
 Marks lowly homes where dear ones sleep- 
 
SWEET SUMMER LAM). 1 9 
 
 Dear ones whom in our hearts we keep 
 Though they be dead. ( 'Tis memory kind 
 That brings their faces thus to mind.) 
 The poor man is companion there 
 Of he whose life had little care. 
 Each share alike, six feet of earth. 
 Which shows what fleshh' pride is worth, 
 And is the one estate which man 
 Inherits, since the world began. 
 Oft' times, when Summer days are fair, 
 I wander 'mong the head-stones there, 
 Or sit beside the hillocks green 
 Beneath whose low roofs, all unseen. 
 The vacant tenements of clay 
 Are waiting for the Judgment Day — 
 O Mystery! O Mystery! 
 Of Life! Of Death! I long to see- 
 Not through a glass thus darkly dim, 
 But face to face with Him, with Him — 
 The All Wise One who knows the end 
 From the beginning. Guide and Friend, 
 O lead our feeble steps aright 
 Onward and upward to the light 
 That shineth on the soul at last 
 When earthly mists and doubts are past. 
 
|||W|eVOXD the graveyard is the wood, 
 ^^fe^iS Within whose peaceful solitude 
 ^m^ Are shady dells of cool delisiht, 
 1 And beauty, pleasing to the sight — 
 
 Beauty that soul of poet loves — 
 Of leafy vales, of ferny groves *■ 
 
 That wave their feathery fingered palms, 
 Gracefully making low salaams 
 To one another 'neath the trees 
 That whisper o'er them in the breeze. 
 And here, and there, we come across 
 Green patches of the woodland moss 
 Like silken velvet, soft and clean. 
 And fit for any king or queen 
 To kneel upon in robes of State, 
 And )'ield their homage to the Great 
 Good King of all, who reigns supreme 
 O'er them — o'er earth, tho' all unseen 
 By our weak sights; and who is near 
 In spirit, when we bow in prayer, 
 In fields, or woods, or anywhere. 
 
22 SWEET SUMMER LAND. 
 
 Secluded from the haunts of men, 
 
 We gaze on Nature's diadem 
 
 Of dark rich foliage overhead, 
 
 Content to lie within the shade 
 
 Refreshing coolness wafted down 
 
 To those who rest beneath its crown. 
 
 We hear the wild bird's happy song 
 
 Echoing sweetly, clear and strong. 
 
 And catch a glimpse of azure sky. 
 
 As trees wave and the breeze goes by 
 
 Loitering here, day after day, 
 
 We wish 'twere Summer time alway, 
 
 With naught but woods, and birds, and flowers, 
 
 To while away the quiet hours. 
 
 With naught but blue sky overhead. 
 
 Beneath us this green mossy bed. 
 
 And in our hearts a deep content. 
 
 That seems a boon from heaven sent, 
 
 A benediction given — not lent. 
 
M 
 
 ir 
 
 pUT changes over-shadow all : 
 g The sunlight fades, the damp dews fall, 
 The tear, drops wet our cheeks, and in 
 The blue expanse of heaven are seen 
 Shadows fast gathering, one by one, 
 Shutting from sight the glorious sun. 
 
 ( T/ie Storm. ) 
 
 Dense clouds are drifting 'cross the sky 
 
 As weary night comes hast'ning down; 
 
 The wailing wind sends forth a sigh 
 
 O'er country homes and neighboring town. 
 
 A storm is pending: See the scroll 
 
 Unfolding outward in the west; 
 
 And upward now the great clouds roll 
 
 Like dark foam on the black lake's crest. 
 
 And hark! The deafening thunders peal; 
 
 The vivid lightnings flare and flash; 
 
 The very heavens rock and reel 
 
 As down the angry waters dash; 
 
 Earth, storm and sky, all seem to blend 
 
 In one great mass, as the rains descend. 
 
24 SWEET SUMMER LAND. 
 
 Down, down it pours, the mighty shower; 
 The rushing wind grows loud and strong, 
 The treetops bend beneath its power 
 As it whirls the weeping clouds along. 
 All nature seems to be at war, 
 Fighting for a great victory, 
 With bayonets' flash and cannons' roar, 
 Until the vanquished turn and flee — 
 Quite unafraid I watch the fight, 
 Knowing full well that it will cease 
 And leave the tired, troubled night 
 To waken into morning peace. 
 We scarce shall know a storm has passed 
 Since the sun shone upon us last. 
 
 Already it abates: It hath 
 Grown weary, and the wind lulls mild. 
 The elements have spent their wrath. 
 Are fast becoming reconciled. 
 The clouds uplift, the stars appear 
 Like gems of golden, dazzling light; 
 The shining north ra}^s pale and clear, 
 Makes beautiful the Summer night. 
 
SWEET SUMMER LAND. 
 
 While in the west a new moon bends 
 It's sih'er cresent o'er the wood. 
 The rain is past : All nature blends 
 Together now in quietude. 
 The moist earth rests secure and calm 
 Beneath the great sky's cooling palm. 
 
 Doth not this storm resemble life? 
 Clouds o^ather o'er us, one hv one, 
 Filling our hearts ^^'ith fear and strife. 
 Until our troubled course is run. 
 We cannot see the bright stars gleam 
 Until the blinding rain is o'er, 
 Nor get beyond Time's turbid stream 
 Between us and the unseen sliore — 
 Then let the tempest rage and blow, 
 For thus 'tis soonest over — past; 
 The wildest storms more quickh' go 
 Before the wildest, fiercest blasts. 
 The sweetest calm, the brighest stars, 
 Are just be}'ond earth's prison bars. 
 
 -D 
 

 SUMMER, Summer, Summer Sweet! 
 Your verdure green beneath our feet, 
 
 q)^' Your radiant skies, }'our amber hours, 
 
 J Are fairer after thunder showers. 
 So it must be that clouds are sent 
 To teach //s lessons of content — 
 To teach us that, tho' storms do roar, 
 It will be brighter when they're o'er 
 And we have reached the restful shore. 
 
 The Summer Land forever bright. 
 
 Where angels walk in garments white 
 
 Beside the river's golden strand. 
 
 Sweet Summer Land ! Sweet Summer Land ! 
 
 Where all are free from care and sin. 
 From foes without, from fears within; 
 Forever resting heart and hand. 
 Sweet Summer Land ! Sweet Summer Land ! 
 
28 SWEET SUMMER LAND. 
 
 Where flowers eternal bloom for you — 
 The fadeless Summers through and through — 
 Our loved ones of the seraph band — 
 Sweet Summer Land ! Sweet Summer Land ! 
 
 That beauteous country, where the breath 
 Of Winter's chill — of Autumn's death — 
 Can never reach thy sunny strand 
 Sweet Summer Land ! Sweet Summicr Land ! 
 
 Where all with God are truly blest, 
 As 'neath His smile, secure they rest. 
 With Angels walking, hand in hand, 
 In that unendino- Summer Land.