im ^^^rf^i"J"'.;"T'"'™>^^" ■^^z HOUGHTS fSES OF \ y^ -^1 n 'r\ Class __:P5350!7 RnnV (^-7 13^5 COPYRIGHT DEPOSm Digitized by the Internet Arciiive in 2011 with funding from The Library of Congress http://wvyw.archive.org/details/shepherdmythoughOOdonn SHEPHERD MY THOUGHTS BOOKS OF FRANCIS P. DONNELLY, SJ. Watching an Hour The Holy Hour in Gethsemane The Heart of the Gospel The Heart of Revelation Mustard Seed Chaff and Wheat Shepherd My Thoughts (Verses) Attractively bound in clothy i6mo, net .75 each SHEPHERD MY THOUGHTS THE VERSES OF FRANCIS P. DONNELLY NEW YORK P. J. KENEDY & SONS 1918 COPYRIGHT, 1918 BY P. J. KENEDY & SONS JUL 31 1918 «> ^ S)G1.A4999G7 ro rou TIS a little gift that I give you. But enshrining it, felt tho' unseen/ I give you another fair treasure, Prized alike by the peasant or queen ; I give you what sweetens all language; The beauty that haunts every scene; The fountain that sends the blood rilling; The blooming which keeps the heart green; The dawn of the happiest daytimes ; The evening of memories serene ; The spur and the charm of endeavor ; Lifes rest and life's rivalry keen ; I give what is yours in full measure — With this goes my — Guess what I mean ! AT WORCESTER COLLEGE OF THE HOLY CROSS THE YEAR OF DIAMOND JUBILEE 1843-I918 CONTENTS VERSES PAGE Shepherd My Thoughts i In Trials 2 Once More! 3 His Bow in the Clouds ^ And They Were Very Good 6 Creation 8 The First Flower 9 Enarrant Gloriam Dei 10 Whitlow-Grass 11 To a Friend la Consolation i4 In Pain i5 " Friend, Whereto Art Thou Come.^ "... 16 The Sun of Justice 18 "As Little C{iildren" 19 Sermons in Seeds 20 The Optimist 22 Hepatica 23 To THE End 24 "The Heart Watches" 26 The Debt 26 A Present 27 The Golden Rod 28 Easter 3o Hope 3i SONGS To Cardinal Martinelli 35 What an Irishman Means by Machree . . 36 For an Anniversary 38 vii Purple and Silver 4o Father O'Kane 44 The Flag of Our Skies 46 The Service Flag 48 Song for Fordham Men 5o Spring Song 52 A Golden Jubilee 54 War Song 55 Peace Song 58 From the Altar 6i Evening Song 62 VERSES Compensation 67 Difficulties, Not Doubts 68 Out of the Mouth of Infants 69 Tongues in Trees 70 In the Fourth Watch 72 Unless the Grain of Wheat Die 78 The Immaculate Conception 74 Humility 76 November and December 77 Why Not? 78 The Voices of the Irish 79 The Teacher 80 To Mother M. Xavier 81 Be My Valentine ! 82 Vanity of Vanities 83 Temptation 84 On Hearing Loud Laughter 85 A Wish 86 Forebodings 87 The Rainbow 88 viii The Victory 89 Promise 90 A Growth of Many Years 91 Faith 92 And His Own Life Also qZ The Heavens Are Telling 94 All Things unto Good 96 Confidence 96 To a Portrait 97 Sanctity 98 Sweet Charity 99 St. Valentine's Day 100 The Temples of the Spirit loi Prayer 102 Blood-Root io3 Obedience io4 Reaping the Whirlwind io5 The Frost 106 A Prayer 108 IN MEMORIAM In Vain in W. J. D 112 Samuel H. Frisbee, S.J ii4 To A Mother 116 To A Young Patriot 118 Semper Paratus 119 "Death and the Sculptor" 120 VERSES SURSUM CoRDA I 123 The Heart of a Valentine 124 Homer i25 ix Queen of the Evangelists 126 In Prayer , 127 Thro' a Glass in a Dark Manner 128 Adoration i3o In a Church i3i Remorse 182 The Marvels of Hygiene i33 My Standard i34 "History in a Back Yard" i35 Too Soon! i36 The Way to Bethlehem 187 A Christmas Wish i38 A Christmas Star 189 Old Days on the Susquehanna i4o Miracles i44 A Request i45 At Last i46 Notes i48 VERSES SHEPHERD MY THOUGHTS I WISH to pray and from the ceaseless war Of worry summon forth the sweet dehght Of holy peace. Full easily from sight, But scarcely from the soul, the world I bar. My flocks of thoughts, how timorous they are I They rush where fairer pasture lands invite, Down easy hollows from the harder height; And one and ninety-nine are lost afar. Good Master, they are Thine and know Thy voice; Send it now sounding down the devious ways And dark, where they have wandered from Thy care. Ah, surely they will harken and rejoice. And thronging flock to meet Thy kindly gaze; Shepherd my thoughts and fold them into prayer. IN TRIALS JL PUT my frightened hand in Thine, Father, and look to Thy dear face; Stretching these childish steps of mine To keep the measm'e of Thy pace. ONCE MORE o, NCE more the long rays flash from crest to crest Of changing clouds across the evening skies; Once more the red smi fills me with surprise, Sinking — the same and not the same — to rest. "Once more!" The phrase with hope is sweetly blest; For tho' the day's white brilliance slowly dies From gold to grey before my wondering eyes, I look for other sunsets in the west. Past hopes, oh, what will fuse the flush of youth Throughout your gloom and make you white with day? Past hopes of mine, you were, alas, in part Of blind years born and paled with time and truth, Yet ere you merge into the twilight grey, With sunset glory flood once more my heart. Yi HIS BOW IN THE CLOUDS ES, span your sky with the rainbow arch And seek where its bases rest; Nor ever flag in your onward march, Nor cool in your ardent quest. What if the clouds should thickly roll To darken the sky again, Emblazon the bow on a daiing soul And plunge thro' the blinding rain. Ah, aging years — they are wary and cold — May on youth's fair visions frown, And doubt of the hues and doubt of the gold And doubt if the ends come down. But on I You shall find the golden crock; All your ships shall sail home to you, And all your sheep to their fold shall flock, And all of your dreams come true. The Weaver Who wove that irised zone, Who gives the heart hopes to hold, He binds "a rainbow about His throne"; And *'the street of His City is gold.'* AND THEY WERE VERY GOOD *^God saw all the things that he had made, and they were very good.'' ^ J. CYNIC X OU poets scan one star with eager eyes And trace the narrow path its twinklings take Across great space, or when your thirst you slake, Marvelling you watch the spring's bright bubbles rise ; You follow dropping snow down from the skies Until it weaves its fleeces flake by flake; You search for haunts where first the flowers awake And cherish their remembrance as a prize." POET "Must we crave pardon from a world's finance Because we love these things and reckon not Profit and loss of season, sky and sod? These trifles profitless have known the glance Of their Creator. Blest the poet's lot, Rethinking the creative thoughts of God!" CREATION vJrOD'S purpose held thro' cycles long, Awaiting a dawn sublime; Then the sunUght of eternity Broke o'er the hills of time. 8 THE FIRST FLOWER B ^ABE of the wood, the first flower of the year, Sprung from the darkened depths of seed and root, How lightly do you wear your swaddling suit While gently cradled by the breezes near I The stream of Hfe which finds new outlet here. Has coursed thro' centuries of flower and fruit; In you again it rises to recruit Its currents and again to disappear. Awhile I pause upon fife's mystery, Caught by your new-born beauty as I roam. And feel an awe commingfing with defight. We meet a moment as upon a sea; You flash for me a sudden flake of foam, Melting while I pass swiftly out of sight. ENARRANT GLORIAM DEI A SOWER scattered His golden grains On heaven's barren ways That men might reap from the starry plains The harvests of His praise. 10 WHITLOW-GRASS M ARCH is here and winter's sting Tingles yet in wind and mist ; March is here and with it Spring Comes to keep its yearly tryst. Bending head against the breeze, Down along the path I pass — There beneath the leafless trees Shines the low, white Whitlow-Grass! All the boisterous, misty storm Sweeps not downward where you stay; Bravely lift your fragile form, Giving joy while yet you may. White star of the floral dawn, Brief and hopeful solace bring. Ere your petals pale anon Mid the myriad bloom of Spring I II TO A FRIEND Vy H, time has done my green wood grievous wrong And fallen trmik and branch in mire immersed; From their black ooze, strange broods have burst, Buzzing amid the former haunts of song. Rough ridges stretch their bleak, hot crags along. Nor all the showers of heaven can quench their thirst. The garden of my life with swamp is cursed And desert, where the blossoms loved to throng." 12 "Thy hand, my friend; and pick thy way with me Down where the drainage and the mould beget The fragrance of the fair white violet. A firmer grasp now! Up the rocks, and see! The May-flowers trail and shed their sweetness there! Take heart! God's world reblossoms every- where.'* i3 CONSOLATION X HE world within my saddened heart Is clouded everywhere, TiU all the gloom is riven apart, By the golden shafts of prayer. i4 IN PAIN I WAS baffled to understand The mystery of sorrow and pain; That to sever from even my blood I must offer and never complain; When Love showed His palm-pierced hand And the wounds in His wearied feet; Then my dark thoughts understood That the shedding of blood is sweet. i5 "FRIEND, WHERETO ART THOU COME?" lO, I am there in Gethsemane's hush, And I now may stop one blood-red drop, Or turn the press till the life-wine gush; And Christ kneels waiting for me. And my fingers are picking the sharp thorns now; One less may be pulled or one may be dulled; Or all may poignantly pierce His brow; And Christ sits waiting for me. i6 The scourge poises quivering over its prey. Shall its coils unfling for a venomous sting, Or once be unfleshed and unbloodied today? Ah, Christ stands waiting for me. Come now, my soul, choose thy fateful part. Wilt thou scoff and jeer and drive deep the spear, Or yield Him a mother's arms and heart? Come, Christ hangs dying for thee! 17 THE SUN OF JUSTICE G, IHRIST'S love flamed forth the brightest On CalvEiry long ago, And sank in a blood-red sunset O'er the darkened hill of woe; But its rays still touch the ages With a heavenly after-glow. i8 "AS LITTLE CHILDREN" A CHILD will knit his forehead like a sage And gravely with pursed lip begin to con His earliest lesson, slowly one by one, Spelling the words whose mysteries engage The perplexed thoughts of his unripened age. Great is the toil until the task is done, And eye and mind in happy unison Glide on along the line and down the page. Ah, there are letters in a larger book Which baffle older heads, which patient faith Alone can spell. Such are untoward events, Life, sin and sorrow. Hopefully we look Beyond, when riper wisdom after death Shall read aright the page of Providence. 19 SERMONS IN SEEDS J_j0! the Spring has its birth. In the dark, softened earth There is motion in silence and toil without rest; Where the heritage seed from the last year's dead Kept the pride of the Summer to come in its breast; Where now waked from its death by the Spring's warm breath The seed drives a shoot thro' the shroud of the clay, Pushing up thro' the gloom, slowly up from its tomb, Breaking out into life and the Ught of the day; Till the plant with new power reaches up to the flower. Irresistibly up to the flower full-blown; 20 Till the promise long hid in the heart of the seed Is brought to the fulness of life and its crown. Ah! down in the deep of the heart nigh asleep Are there hidden no hopes for the true and the good, No longings for right that would fain see the Hght, Or urgings to higher things too long with- stood? Then beg the blest dower of the Saviour's death hour, Beg His Spring a dead will to awake and control. Till the wish, the heart's seed, be fulfilled in the deed. In the deed, the true flower of the life of the soul. 21 THE OPTIMIST Ea] lRTH'S widest realms have not the im- perial sway That he has won to his supreme control; Nor Josue's might could make so long a day; Never shall sunlight set within his soul. 22 HEPATICA I SAW the lowly liver-leaf today Unfold its purple petals to the Spring, Timid but trustful, for the Ungering sting Of unthawed Winter checks profuse display. No rival of tall sister-blooms of May, It nestles down where Autumn's dead leaves cUng, Too low for wild March winds roughly to swing Its loose-hung sheaf of blossoms bound with clay. Ah, worldlings, walk the woods for early flowers, Turning aside from fashion, war and trade, To learn the lessons that will calm and bless: How beauty should not brave ungenial powers; How lowhness has charms which never fade; How worth grows cheap thro' wanton com- monness. 23 TO THE END w, HEN every stream from every part Had shed for us its crimson flood, The spear was reddened in Christ's Heart And drained the fomitain-head of blood. 24 "THE HEART WATCHES" HE sea comes surging in with troubled breast, And on the losing sand the sheets of tide Fall prone, then, lifted farther, landward slide In restlessness forever unreprest. The ceaseless surface change of gulf and crest Stirs not the inner waters pacified ; The sea's great heart there to its heavenly guide Sways, stately moving, but in stately rest. So down below the pulse of wayward thought. The flood of hope, the dark ebb of despair, Below the fading foam of many a whim. Deep in the spirit's depths calm love has sought Its Lover, tending heavenward in prayer, And every drop of heart-blood sways to Him. a5 THE DEBT 'T, IS myself is proud of our land, Its law and liberty; But blood and brain and the smile in grief And hope*s sure gain and my heart's belief, They came across the sea; And the years of strife where my father strove, And the sweets of Hfe in my mother's love, 'Twas St. Patrick gave to Ireland, And Ireland gave to me. 26 A PRESENT WO loving lads once planned a glad sur- prise To please their father's heart. They would bestow A gift on him, and many a whisper low And long debating followed to devise What gifts were best. But then their purse suppUes Alas! no means. Dissembling they must go Their father's help to ask; not shrewd to know, BUnded by love, that he their present buys. Our Father, we are children ; we possess A childish mind ; forget when we restore Your gifts to You, that they were from above. Yet You are patient with our childishness, WiUing to give us all the world and more, If we but only give it back in love. 27 THE GOLDEN ROD w, ITH brilliant plumes displayed on high, The last ranks of the flowers pass by; The golden-rod is far and nigh This crisp and crystal weather. From golden sheaves to golden leaves It welds a golden link that weaves The autumn months together. Its thousand tiny fountains play, I fancy, on this autumn day, And spurt aloft their jets of spray, To sway in poising showers; Or else I dream a cloud of gold Across our autumn world has rolled And left its fleece for flowers. 28 In vain does fancy strive to show The mysteries that from it flow, That make my heart with gladness glow An J beat with raptm-e faster; In vain such dreams would paint for me Its beauty bending gracefully Above the purple aster. Alas! these golden glories must Be dimmed into a faded rust; And into floating points of dust Its clustered lustre sever. Its leaves must feel the winter's breath And don the sombre shades of death And pass from us forever. ao / EASTER EACE — and the stormy surges Are calmed by divine behest; Peace — and our sins' sharp scourges Shall no more the spirit infest; Peace — and the world emerges From ruin to Easter rest. 3o HOPE T JL HE wide horizon of the world Is flooded with the light, Ere yet the golden orb of day Has blazed upon the sight; So heaven's dawn may break upon Time's short, unhappy night, And the clouds that roll within the soul Will grow all silver white. 3i SONGS TO CARDINAL MARTINELLI Oi 'F old thy brothers knew thy worth, As priest to teach, as priest to guide; They hailed thee, father, round the earth; They sang thy fame both far and wide. And we their greeting are now repeating: All hail our priest! Long life to thee! Then fairer honors fell to thee, A prelate made of our loved land, And our loved land full joyously Has blessed thy strong but gentle hand. And we its greeting are now repeating: Our prelate hail! Long life to thee! Now princely power is given thee ; A world its fealty has sworn. And greets thy red-robed royalty, World-rival to the red of morn. And we that greeting are now repeating: All hail our prince! Long life to thee! 35 WHAT AN IRISHMAN MEANS BY MACHREEi RAY come and interpret this Gaelic for me, And tell what an Irishman means by ^Machree.'" *' 'Tis the white of the day and the warmth of the smi; The ripple of waters that laughingly run; The sweet bloom of youth, the harvest of years; The gold of all smiles and the salt of all tears, 'Tis the thrill of the hand and the Ught of the eye; The glow of the cheek and the lip's parting cry; 'Tis mother; 'tis father; 'tis children and wife; The music of woman's — the wine of man's . — life; 36 'Tis all that he lives for and hopes for above; 'Tis an Irishman's heart making vocal his love; The whole of creation and one isle in the sea : — And that's what an Irishman means by *Machree."' X IS "Machree" that exults in a warm, throbbing heait, When he takes his colleen until death do them part; 'Tis "Machree" that he croons to sweet, newly born charms, When a wisp of a child nestles snug in his arms; Tis "Machree" that he feels in the twilight of days. When himself and herself look far back on life's ways; "Machree," ah, is wrung from a heart an- guished sore, If herself or the children have gone on before. 37 FOR AN ANNIVERSARY Air: Flow gently ^ sweet AJton V-/H, seasons on seasons have travelled their way With rich showers of sunshine and brief veils of grey, Since back in the years that have spread wing and flown, Enhsted and fighting you stood with God's own. A gladness has shone round your numerous days And tho' some dark sadness at times dimmed its rays. Yet laughter erelong looked the brighter thro' tears. For God's love has blessed you these many long yeai's. 38 Not alone for yourself was the good boon of joy; Not alone for yourself was the kind, cloudless sky; On others the tide of God's gifts you bestowed As full in the ebbing as once in the flood. So now for the saddened whose days you made glad, For us who have shared all the treasures you had, We sing loving thanks as this fair day appears And bless God who blest you for many long years. 39 PURPLE AND SILVER For Rt. Rev. Thomas D. Beaveris Episcopal Jubilee Air: Cahiramee {Gaelic Melody) A. HE dawn's empurpling clouds, blanching to silver white, Bring all their beauty here to gladden your Jubilee; The purple shades of eve, silver stars of night, Bring all their beauty here to gladden your Jubilee. While time slipped away, time of toil and fray, Many the hearts you blest this quarter a century; The fair and grateful days sing their Father's praise, Bring all their beauty here to gladden your Jubilee. 4o The clusters of purple grape daily chaliced and shed Harvest their fruitage here to hallow your Jubilee; The grains of golden wheat silvered in altar- bread Harvest their fruitage here to hallow your Jubilee; Priesthood's holy type, crushed when fair and ripe, Offered day by day this quarter a century I The bread and wine made Christ, as Priest you sacrificed; Now with their fruitage rich they hallow your Jubilee. 4i The Shepherd's purple and crook, guarding the fold in peace, Tell of the gain of years enriching your Jubilee ; The flock of your shepherding, souls of a silver fleece. Tell of the gain of years eniiching your Jubilee. Cloistered nun and priest, loftiest and least, Thronging flock to bless your quarter of century. And hearts from every home hailing their Bishop come; Tell of the gain of years enriching your Jubilee. 42 The work and wisdom of time coins to silver your hair; Hail, Son of Holy Cross, welcome your Jubilee! And health thro* your every vein purples in vintage rare; Hail, Son of Holy Cross, welcome your Jubilee! Silver our voices ring; warm is the love we sing. Pride of our hearts and friend this quarter a century; The Purple waves o*er you, Purple for comrade true; Hail, Son of Holy Cross, welcome your Jubilee! 43 FATHER O'KANE Golden Jubilee of M. A, O'Kane, S.J, Air: Larry 0' Gaff w, HITE harvests were glistening, And the call found you listening; When of old you went hastening Down Linden Lane. Now 'neath its gold leaves for us What your reaping achieves for us, You bring in gold sheaves for us. Father O'Kane! CHO. Ah, 'tis you have the way with you That makes our hearts gay with you, Laughing all day with you And the next day again. God keep the eyes dry in you, And hush every sigh in you, Till heaven puts its joy in you. Father O'Kane. 44 All the minds you have brightened and The souls you have whitened and The hearts you have lightened and Freed from their pain, From the past they come winging now; Their thanks they are bringing now, And with us they are singing now, Father O'Kanel Here are brothers who treasure you, And a home glad to pleasure you, And warm hearts that measure you Far beyond the world's gain. Holy Cross unites cheers in you; Son and Father reveres in you. And crowns fifty years in you. Father O'Kanel 45 THE FLAG OF OUR SKIES Air: Pontifical March of Gounod R> .ED with the brightness That flames the sky at coming morn; White with the whiteness That floods the day when fully born; Blue with the azure Of heaven and its starry host; Hail to our treasure, Our flag, our love, our proudest boast! Then let it float with the glories of the skies, And let it roll far on high its white and its red united bars; 46 Fling out its folds for the storm king it defies; And let it flash through the gloom all the lightning of its sUver stars. Aye, let it float with its hues from the skies above it, With the red of the dawn, the white of the day, the blue of the night, we love it. Wave it, proudly wave it; With your Hfe's blood gladly save it; Praise God Who gave it. The flag of the good and the true. Round it now bravely stand. Guard it ever with a strong right hand; Love the banner of your native land, The Red, White and Blue. 47 B, THE SERVICE FLAG 2 ►E our Service Flag unfurled For our brothers thro' the world, Who in battle bravely muster To emblazon freedom's lustre; Who, wherever they may be, Are revered in memory, Where our banner keeps the cluster Of their stars. CHO. Pray heaven stay beside them, And ever safely guide them, And o'er all danger tide them. To come back in glory; They have heard their country's call ; They have given her their all; And our flag enshrines the story In their stars. It was Service bade them come; They have gone from out our home; All the hnks of life are broken, And the parting word is spoken; 48 And for us they spend their breath, And for us they march to death, And for us they leave a token In their stars. With the rifle and the blade, With the shell and hand-grenade. With the great propellers twirling Thro' the wind and water whirling. With their healing and their prayer. They are serving everywhere; And our banner waves unfurling All their stars. Let the starry flag unroll For the Service of their soul, For their fervor flaming ever, For their hearts' supreme endeavor! They shall cross red fields of fight To the peaceful field of white, Where our love forgets them never In their stars. 49 A SONG FOR FORDHAM MEN ^ HEN here's a health to Fordham, The builder of our blood! For your high honor, Fordham, Our rivals are withstood; Upon your campus, Fordham, We grapple in the fight, And from the fray we bear away The victory of might. CHO. Then Fordham's honored name With loyal love proclaim ; And lift your voice, my brother; Sing the fair fame of your mother; And pledge to dear old Fordham The measure of full praise, That tongue to tongue shall roll along Thro' all the coming days. And here's long life to Fordham, The moulder of our mind! You light the darkness, Fordham; You teach us who were blind; 5o Youl' kind hands guide us, Fordham, Along the paths of lore, And out to life and out to strife We march with you before. Here's warmth of love to Fordham, The kindler of our heart! You give us friendships, Fordham, That never shall depart. Alas! We leave you, Fordham, With hands unclasping hands; But hearts are right and hearts unite Across the seas and lands. All glory to great Fordham Inspirer of our soul ! We bend in reverence, Fordham, To bless your high control. You raised our visions, mother, Above the clay and clod, And gave us zest to dare the best For country and for God. 5i SPRING SONG lOOK, valley and hill with a new ardor thrill, And thousands of flowers they bring, While the balm of the air breathes sweet here and there; But, ah, somewhere else there is Spring. From quickening root up to ruddy, ripe fruit, Fairest blossoms grow sweetly today ; And the bloom of the heart flings its petals apart And unfolds to the love of its May. Oh, the Spring, you may see, the old, old Spring, Every year when the snows depart; But, ah, there has come a new-, new Spring, That shall ever be sweet in the heart. 52 Hark, the wood and the lane have their voices again, And the birds in wild revelry sing. Till each musical cry win somewhere a reply; But, ah, somewhere else there is Spring. From chords throbbing deep, sweet harmonies leap And whispers go winging away ; Hark, out of the heart echoed melodies start And answer the love of its May. 53 A GOLDEN JUBILEE E IFTY years of working for the Master, Full of joy or sorrow tho' they be, Fifty years of service claim rejoicings; And we keep a Golden Jubilee. At the dawn the gold is on the mountains; Tis the herald of the coming day. In the eve the crests of clouds are golden; 'Tis the glory ere the drear decay. But our hfe has here no other dawning, Nor shall splendor clothe man's evening years. It was not the gold of night or morning Gave this happy time the name it bears. Nay, we saw the fruitful yield of Autumn, Mellow with the sunlight garnered in; And we give this time the name of golden, Which its half-a-hundred harvests win. 54 WAR SONG Written for a play concerning the Indian Missionaries I N the thick of the glade we have ground the bright blade And the feel of it thiills us with rapture, As with stealthy tread like the feet of the dead We follow the foe to their capture. Let not a twig break lest the Huron awake And lose us the vengeance we cherish ; But nigher and nigher we will creep to their fire Till they wake to our blades and all perish. War, war, great spirit of war. Lover of vengeance, come, thrill us, Till the foe meet their fate and our hatred we sate; With the might of revenge, come, fill us. 55 Ha, see they arise benumbed by surprise, And in scattering terror we rush them; Hand to hand thro' the night we clutch in the fight Till we beat them to earth and we crush them. Then at last we're supreme at the dawn's red beam, While redder the captured town blazes; Then at last the glad shout rings exulting about And we chant war's victorious praises. War, war, great spirit of war. Victorious spirit, come thrill us. Till the foe meet their fate and our hatred we sate; With the might of your triumph, come, fill us. 56 Oh, the battle we bless with the sweets of success, With the bUss that from vengeance emerges; And exultant we feel at the grip of the steel When the lust of the fight madly urges; But the glorying boast o'er the foe's routed host Gives us day after day newer pleasure. And homeward we tread with the spoils of the dead That our proud hearts forever shall treasure. Wgir, war, spirit of war, Bringer of booty, come, thrill us, Till the foe meet their fate and our hatred we sate, With the might of your riches, come, fill us. 57 PEACE SONG Written for a play concerning the Indian Missionaries G (OME, morn, from the reddening sky After the gloomy night; Break, light, thro' the clouds on high, Speeding the storm to flight. The roaring gales are whispering low; The echoes of thunder cease; The world is white with cheerful glow; This is the day of peace. Peace, peace, let its gladness shine; And give us the war's surcease; Where the lips prolong the light heart's song At the silver day of peace. 68 Loose, Winter, the icy chain That fetters with death the earth; Wing, Spring, in glad flight again, Wooing the lands to birth; Till hollow and hill with new life fill, And flower and fruit increase; And the tall green maize its tassels displays; This is the harvest of peace. Peace, peace, let its gladness grow; And give us the war's surcease; Where the Hps prolong the light heart's song At the golden harvest of peace. 59 Home, home, we welcome you home, Near to the family fire; No more on war's path to roam Away from our hearts' desire. Oh, fathers and brothers with us abide And our captive spirits release, Till we laugh with you by our mother's side In the happy homes of peace. Peace, peace, let its gladness come, And give us the war's surcease Where the lips prolong the Ught heart's song In the happy homes of peace. 60 FROM THE ALTAR G, IVE ear, tho' louder and louder the din, And the world surges wild about ; — Give ear to My call where I yearn within, Where I knock that I may come out: Out where you labor and labor on, Out to your pain's surcease, Out till the storm be over and gone, And you rest in refreshing peace. Give closer ear to the beat upon beat You may hear if you hold not apart. No roughened hands do the sounds repeat; 'Tis the pulse of My Heart on your heart. Let me enter into My only home, In where no warmth is denied; In to your love, say ''Come," say, "Come," Till My Heart in your heart abide. 6i EVENING SONG G. lURFEW chimes have stilled their pealing, And the world in slumber lies; Sweetest dreams o'er men are stealing; Starlit are the darkened skies. Peace and joy of heart possess you I Sweetest dreams forever bless you, Till reveille's ringing horn Wakes the echoes of the morn I Thro' the pale and purple even Clearly shines the moon's fair light; Countless are the stars of heaven Gleaming thro' the gloom of night. Heaven gives us other brightness, Gives our hearts a gladsome lightness. Sweet the promise of that ray, Promise of eternal day. 62 Sweetly sleep till dawning morrow, Wake you with its glad, red glow; Sweetly sleep, all free from sorrow. Free from care and vexing woe. Peace and joy of heart possess you I Sweetest dreams forever bless you. Till the Lord's reveille horn Wakes you to unending morn I 63 VERSES COMPENSATION URGED clean of the ash and the clinker, The flame to sheer lustre is brought; For the wassail and warmth of the drinker The wine-press has cruelly wrought; Faint not nor flinch, toiling thinker, Joy waits on the birth-pangs of thought. 67 DIFFICULTIES, NOT DOUBTS Ai .H, Lord, dark questionings my life perplex, Entangling me in mazes of deceit; Yet grant, tho' many things my reason vex, My heart may keep forever at Thy feet. 68 OUT OF THE MOUTH OF INFANTS w, HEN some great wonder meets an infant's eyes Ere yet his growing powers are unbound From slowly loosening fetters, then full round Open his eyelids in alarmed surprise; And struggling with his feebleness he tries To give this wondrous truth thus newly found Full utterance in one word, one crowded sound, , Scarce different from his first unmeaning cries. We struggle, too, God, with thoughts of Thee, To give them tongue, to bring within our reach The few, faint rays flashed from Thy mystery, In helpless volumes darkly mirroring each. Our infant minds of Thy infinity Can only babble in weak human speech. 69 TONGUES IN TREES A MULTITUDE of crximpled leaves sprang forth, Spreading their brighter faces to the sun; And on their youth a snow of blossoms feU, Flowers of fair promise melting one by one. FuU gladly borne by ever sinking boughs The fruit went ripening to its golden prime, Flushed to the rind with ruddy mellowness, And swollen with the sweets of summer-time. 70 Bare tree, you mourn now in the winter gale; Thrice shorn, you long to have your triple crown. The winds have all your blossoms, all your leaves; Your better gifts on us were showered down. Why mourn that youth's brief bloom has faded quite. That life for you is sere and perishing.^ If Hfe's decay was blest with fruitfulness, Be glad tho' you should see no other Spring. 71 IN THE FOURTH WATCH w> HEN the dark, impending future shapes into a spectral form, And the heart leaps out all vocal in a cry, From the gloom and threatening shadows, ruling o'er the risen storm. Comes the Master's peaceful whisper, "It is I." 73 UNLESS THE GRAIN OF WHEAT DIE H] .IS Mother! Had I not well understood, When all His weakness fondly clung to me And I upon His clouded infancy Lavished the full wEU'm dawn of motherhood; Or when my soul surged high, cresting the flood Of mother pride and mother sympathy, While He in gracious strength thro' Galilee Trod His unwearying ways of constant good? His Mother! What rills else enriched that spring? — Then Satan's fury ruthless at Him drove And flung across my knees my bleeding Lord Naked and helpless for new mothering. I knew at last death quickens perfect love Out of dark heart-depths harrowed by the sword. 73 THE IMMACULATE CONCEPTION F. ROM heaven world-ward came the morn And found along the reddening sky One cloud that caught a far-sent ray And flashed all silver upon high. First herald of the Hght new-born, It won and gave to waiting earth All the bright glory of the day, Which thro' its fleeces came to birth. A lily feU from heaven's hand, Upborne upon a cleansing flood. Straightway it widened full and white Without a taint in seed or bud Far from the suUying touch of land, It shone like one lone star apart, And aU its beauty, aU its hght Glowed for the new bud in its heart. 74 Shadows we find where'er we roam From whitest flower to whitest cloud ; Shadows, not symbols. Mary came Alone with spotlessness endowed, In her God built his crystal home And sought what He found not above, A heart where burned in one pure flame A maiden's and a mother's love. 75 HUMILITY HE fairest soul with its brilliancy, Like a blanching star on the brow of day, Is dimmed in the face of Deity And shorn of its lustre fades away. 76 NOVEMBER AND DECEMBER X HE chill of these drear days is in my blood, Creeping thro' all the myriad ways of sense, And numbs the heart. The unkind elements Drive me in gladness to my fire of wood. Is it the chill alone that works this mood Within me or the visions vanished hence, Leaving on tree and field sad evidence Of Summer's beauty and of Autumn's good? December, come and with thy sharper breath Make clear the sky and bright the gloomy air, Sweeping the mists from mouldering woods and fells; Unstrip the world of draperies of death. Spread your own crystal glories everywhere. And wake the saddened heart with Christmas bells. 77 WHY NOT? o> H, may sadness quit the soul of you, And gladness have control of you, And solace soothe the whole of you, This blessed, blessed day! 'Tis her spirit you inherit And her good, warm heart you share it, Tho' far is dear old Ireland, far away. 78 THE VOICES OF THE IRISH ^ A. HE Voices of the Irish!" Hear them still, Great Saint, not crying from one island's shore, But echoing heavenward the whole world o'er, Far from the green of Erin's vale and hill! Pulpit or Parliament their strong tones fill; Hark, they outshout the cannon's rancorous roar; Hotly they barter on trade's crowded floor. And home and cloister with their sweetness thriU. Lose not one whisper of one Irish voice! Ah, multiply thy old apostleship And T£u*a's cooUng embers reinspire! All saddened eyes will brighten and rejoice. And every hand be pure and every Up, When every heart is lit with thy new fire. 79 THE TEACHER A. IRED, tired, he flings a truth to some small class; One soul's deep sparkles; then, alas, is still. Not so! Afar the widening ripples pass. And all life's currents with that one truth thriU. 80 TO MOTHER M. XAVIER^ B, 'LESS with the splendor white of God's new shrine Your golden yield of half a century ; And, Mother, for past days and days to be Let love fulfilled and promised love entwine In praise and pledges, while the vested line Of blessing priests and cloistered charity Fill with the grateful voice of jubilee The hallowed arches and the spires divine. Hark! echoes answer from an ampler dome Where healed and fed and taught and child- hearts cry Their joyous thanks for all your toil and tears: Temple of charity, God's earth-wide home, Whose base is everywhere, whose roof the sky, Whose sacrifice you are these fifty years. 8i BE MY VALENTINE! Y, OUR valentine? Be a caricature, Where horrible scrawls and daubs combine A laugh to raise or a fault to cure? Thus shall I be your valentine? Your valentine? Be a madrigal. Protesting devotion in every line, With ribbons and lace about it all? Thus shall I be your valentine? Your Valentine? Be that martyr Saint, Whose heart died throbbing with love divine, Who shall hearten your soul if it droop and faint? Oh, thus should I be God's Valentine. 82 VANITY OF VANITIES HE irised bubble but glints and breaks: There is vapidness stored in the new-made wine; The sunsets gloom where the red dawns shine, And bUght taints the bud ere its beauty wakes. The sad lips quiver in laughter loud ; In your very welcome you kiss and part; You can sense its hush in the throbbing heart, And your swaddling clothes foretell your shroud. The lusciousness tempts your enamored eyes; Your hps are Hquid with riUs of bUss; You taste and, alas, hear the mocking hiss, And a flaming sword hides Paradise. 83 TEMPTATION w> HILE the scurrying rack of the storm- cloud sweeps Across the spirit's darkened deeps, Rebellious to the wiU's control, O'er all the rout as it hurries by Shines ever fair the untroubled sky In loftier heights of the ruling soul. 84 ON HELVRING LOUD LAUGHTER Y, OU laugh too loud and far too bravely flaunt Your mirth that rustles with the stiffness crude Of new-worn fabrics, fitting not the mood Like homeher joys that feel no need of vaunt. You laugh too loud — as if with sound to daunt Misgivings dark that o'er the spirit brood, Or with forced boasts to steel the heart pur- sued By sad remorse and cowed by spectres gaunt. Secure in their own permanence, true joys Want not the over-loud advertisement Of laughter, ever on the verge of noise, To keep them hving, but in hushed content They dwell, in all that wondrous equipoise Of master soul and sense in service bent. 85 A WISH M, .AY sorrows rest upon thy breast As lightly as the shadows rest Upon a flowing stream ; May all thy ways and all thy days Be bright as sunny river ways And with life's currents teem! FOREBODINGS X HE sun went down in the Western sky, And the broad, dark tide of night Came surging in across the world. And drowned in its flood were day and light. A wind came out of the Western hills And stirred the shadowy leaves with its breath; In the heart of the wind was a chill and a fear As if it breathed from the lips of death. I closed the door with a careful hand And warmed my heart with the fire-side gleams, ^ Lest the shadows that on my spirit fell Should brood on the path of my dreams. 87 THE RAINBOW HE glad sun flashes a golden face Thro' the fleeting drops of rain; And the rainbow, hope, by sweet heaven's grace Crowns the tears of earthly pain. 88 THE VICTORY J_jET all time's saddening misbelief march out, Dreams of false science, brilliance of dissent, Unriddled facts, whatever subtleties invent To drive faith's weakness to the edge of rout; Let loose the deadly phalanxes of doubt Madly to storm at every battlement, While all the hideous air is rent With jeering mockery and blatant shout. — Then baffled reason seems to yield retreat ; But should the soul chill to the touch of death Or bleed with some deep wound of grief, Tho' the dazed mind were crushed by trampling feet. The yearning heart would whisper with last breath ; "Lord, I believe; help thou my unbelief." 89 PROMISE s. '0 red a rose There never was seen, As when it shows Thro' the bud-bars green. 90 A GROWTH OF MANY YEARS I SEE a scene of twenty years ago. Is it a branch ridged with belated snow; Or the first waters of the tide of Spring That here on high a fringe of foam upfling; Or prophet of the dawn from Winter's night Threading one dark cloud's edge with prescient white; Or strings of pearl on pearl set on a spray, From strange deeps dredged, from flower-shell torn away? Look, 'tis a bridal wreath, and I alone Am blessed to view the bride that Spring has won! White petals, promising a June's red yield, You came to richer fruit on stranger field. I saw a shad-bush flower years ago. And every day new visions from it grow. 91 FAITH HE dim short vision of the eye Cannot aspiring hearts control Or narrow to its Httle sky The wide horizon of the soul. 92 AND HIS OWN LIFE ALSO w, HAT, must I ever whet the altar knife, My God and Father? Oh, relent, relent! Wouldst Thou have every tie be rudely rent, Of blood, of friendship, mother, child or wife? Must heart-beat with its fellow beat have strife. And will the edge of war's arbitrament Thro' raw, thro' quick, thro' quivering soul be sent, Unto the parting of my life from life? Alas! but Thou wilt have it so with me. Blending sweet solace with the bleeding smart. And forging weakness to the strength of Christ, Bleak Bethlehem, and darkest Calvary, And spear that slays the slain, teach my faint heart: Love is best love when love is sacrificed. 93 THE HEAVENS ARE TELLING G. OD tells the story Of His lore and glory In the Hght of the stars above; But hark to the beat Of His Heart repeat The tale of His wondrous love. 94 ALL THINGS UNTO GOOD E ATHER, who clasp a son's unanswering hand; And, mother, counting over one by one The laggard hours since she you loved has gone And left you with the dust of all you planned; And, every heart, where love is ht and fanned Or dies to ashes cold ; and you, undone With Magdalen's excess nor yet rewon; Oh, be not blind, look up and understand! The iris ghttering on the stagnant pool, All hues that wake love's smiling or love's tears, Splendid in cloud or sordid in the clod, — Heaven's shattered glories — put your hearts to school And glean for you the shadowy gleam of years To winnow thence the sunlight love of God. 95 CONFIDENCE I SEE not far thro' the gloom of the night; And shadows lie thick on the path I tread; 'Tis step by step with my lantern light; But God is there in the dark ahead. 96 TO A PORTRAIT DAUGHTER should shine within thy gracious eyes, And o'er thy lips the gleams of gladness play Forever, and a rapturous joy array Thy face in glowing dawn's resplendent guise. Part not those hps in sorrow's faintest sighs. No! there should sweet mirth ripple all the day, As in a sun-ht spring, bubbling away Thro' golden sands, the silver waters rise. Say not such kindUness conceals a tomb. Or that a sad heart chokes mirth's fountain- head Or veils the radiant source of joy in gloom. Forbid it. Lord, whose Heart, uncomforted For our content, went throbbing to Its doom And wore the brow of calmness, while It bled. 97 SANCTITY A. .CROSS the soul the rays Of purer sunlight enter in; And lo! the startled gaze Detects the floating motes of sin. e8 SWEET CHARITY HE sunlight floods the granite's face And gilds each gi'anite nook, Eager to peer in every place And catch an answering look — One answering look for all its beams In recompense to take. Lo! back a glance of radiance gleams, Flashed from a mica flake. Ah, Christian love is lavish too In golden showers pom'ed, Earnest to rival and outdo The largess of the Lord — The largess of His crimsoned cross, Which taught sweet charity To seek, to find mid wastes of dross Gold grains of brilliancy. 09 ST. VALENTINE'S DAY HE firelight of Christmas has danced in your home. And its flickering gave you a merry heart; The sunlight of Easter shall dancing come, And peace to all of the world impart. There is space between for the Messenger Saint, For Valentine, foe of all enmities, Who shall feed love's fire that it grow not faint, While the days are faring from mirth to peace. 100 THE TEiMPLES OF THE SPIRIT T, HE great cathedrals of the olden time Were centuries in building. Many a hand Laid stone on stone, and many a master planned Each glorious part from base to belfry chime. Ages of faith, which reckoned it a crime With hurried heaps of rock to weight the land! Building for God, they built His temple grand With lavishness of years, with art sublime. Loyola with the same large faith and trust Bade us put length of Hfe and wealth of love Into the temples of his modeUing. No one day's tinsel, made to-morrow's dust, Could satisfy his master-mind, which strove For ever greater glories of his King. lOI PRAYER F, IRED by a tiny spark of love, Yet may some dull cold grains of prayer, Send widening clouds to heaven above And spread a fragrant incense there. 102 BLOOD-ROOT HE starry blood-roots from the earth have flashed, Some clustering in snow-white galaxies, Some in lone splendor 'neath the trees. Whose bare boughs still by boisterous winds are clashed. Awhile in modest loveliness abashed They scarce disclose their beauties to the breeze ; Awhile — and then bedraggled fineries, Stamens and petals disarrayed are dashed Downward at every breath. Could they and aU Earth's charms stay ever young and promising, Ever with budding joys that never pall, The heart enthralled would there contented cHng; But, ah, for us the flowers of promise fall And never comes again our faded Spring. io3 OBEDIENCE w, HAT care I who the bearer be That lifts the flag on high; I follow fighting where I see God's standard in the sky. io4 REAPING THE WHIRLWIND I NSENSIBLY the whisper of the breeze Comes thro' the wood. A moment and no more The light leaves sway, then dangle as before, And hushed are drooping millions on the trees. But hurrying on with gathered energies, Mark how that wind o'er distant lands may roar, Lash the white breakers on the rocky shore And strew with scattered wrecks the stormy seas. When the first throbs of feeUng subtly glide Thro' drowsy hates or loves and sound their call. Insistent that the lawless brood obey. They are wind-whispers of a whirlwind day When passion may make havoc far and wide And a wild tempest ruin and scatter all. io5 THE FROST OUCHING woods with wonder, Tints of gold and red; Cleaving burs asunder, Brown nuts' ermine bed; Spinning webs of crystal, Where the pools Ue still; Making green spears bristle Up the wind-swept hill; Solvent sweet and tender, Should fruits Knger yet; Forging tinkling splendor On the boughs rain-wet; io6 Blanching fervid breathing Intx) vaguest snow; Cheek and cheek enwreathing With Ufe's ruddy glow; Blessings thickly cluster, O'er a wide world tossed; Music, hue and lustre — Well done, God's good frost I 107 A PRAYER M. .AY never an evil do you wrong, Prays myself for yourself; And sweet be your ears with Irish song, Prays myself for yourself; Ten thousands of friends around you throng; The clasp of their hands be warm and strong; The love of their hearts enfold you long, Prays myself for yourself. io8 IN MEMORIAM IN VAIN M. OTHER, how often do I close my eyes, Struggling with memories of time or place, To see before my heart thy dearest face In all its Uving loveUness arise! But vain, forever vain love's enterprise! One only image can my mind retrace; There — there — within the coffin's strait- ened space Thy likeness cold in death before me lies. Why did I take that last sad view of thee, And let the shadow of the tomb echpse All visions which my earlier days suppUed? Else still thy fondest gaze were bent on me, And still thy tender cheeks, thy smihng Ups With mother's love for me were glorified. Ill W. J. D. X HE bloom has paled to purple on his cheek; The light has darkened in his eyes; The Hps no longer part to speak; Death has its prize; He is gone. The busy mart of thought is stilled, and dead The fire that in the heart was bright; The sunht hopes of youth have fled Before the night; He is gone. We think him near; we turn to see his smile And hear his cheery voice ; or seem To touch his hand, but all the while We idly dream — He is gone. 112 Gone with the calmness born of trusting faith, Gone with his parting breath a prayer, Out through the noiseless gates of death Away from care, He is gone. Yet memory can a restful solace give, His nature still can with us stay. And in a hundred modes can live. His kindly way. Who is gone. If what we loved in him becomes our own. If all his winning gentleness Be ours, until we still our moan And feel it less That he's gone. And thus in time with prayer for one so dear, It may seem like old days again Ere we had ever thought to hear That sad refrain. He is gone. ii3 SAMUEL H. FRISBEE, SJ. I HE hidden wild flowers die in loveKness Unplucked, and forest silences with song Reechoing not for long — ah! not for long — Are hushed to their primeval silences. None now wiU dare untrodden paths to guess, Or wandering win new joy in guessing wrong ; None now will lead afield the studious throng Till nature soothes their cares with sweet caress. We bear it that he does not call the roll, That tireless steps have gone their last long walk, That we are loitering guideless at the start; But oh, dear God, we miss his childlike soul. Which bubbled forth in rills of cheery talk; We mourn the song and sunshine of his heart. ii4 II The bond that bound us in true brotherhood Of song and joyance over plain and hill Is snapt. The heart of all our hearts is still, And a sharp pang has chilled the circling blood That warmed from it. Must we by field and flood Wander no more or quaff the distant rill No more? Hark! Heard you not the warning shrill To meet our guide ahead within the wood? Alas! too far ahead! The woodland springs Have lost their sweetness; gloom our way bedims, And laughing song is hushed to a sad moan. Oh, guide along the path to higher things, ReveaHng Uving streams and angel hymns, You are ahead with God, and we, alone! ii5 TO A MOTHER Bi •RENDA, Brenda, Thwarted bud of flower, Crushed to rarer fragrance, Weakened unto power! Sounding depths of sweetness, In a mother's heart, Which hid unguessed treasures To less searching art; In a father's sternness Baring seams of gold; Winning to thy weakness Hundreds to enfold ; Sobering life's folly By the cloud of fears; ii6 Tempering life's laughter In a bath of tears; Pity filled its fountains; Love leaped into flame; Knighthood donned its armor. When thy frailness came. Time grows fruit of evil, What shall heaven grow? God witheld so much, dear. What shall God bestow? Brenda, Brenda, Unblown bloom of flower, Yielding heavenly fragrance, Weakened unto Power! 117 TO A YOUNG PATRIOT Killed at Vera Cruz, April 21, i9iU J_>/ANIEL, Judea's seer, gave him high sight, To view through mists of blood the dawn of light; And Aloysius, Italy's white bloom, Upheld him to his sacrificial tomb; And Haggerty unloosed the lava fires That flowed volcanic from his Irish sires. America, take thou the garnered yield Of Christian, Catholic and Celtic field I ii8 SEMPER PARATUS In memory of William O'Brien Pardow, S.J. s. 'OLDIER, thy voice rang out across the strife, A shrill rebuke to laggards in the fray, Or trumpeted My summons to obey, Thrilling the wearied brave with conquering life. Healer, thy whispered lore with health was rife; Thy gentle touch probed to the soul's decay And plucked the menace of its death away Beneath the sweet, sharp kindness of the knife. Onward the fight to newer regions rolls; The wounded seek out other charity, TraveUng beyond the comfort of thy word. My pulpit knight, physician of My souls, Come, thou must let them pass; come now to Me! Art thou then ready? "I am ready. Lord." 119 "DEATH AND THE SCULPTOR" A monument by Daniel Chester French J3RING not frail blossoms with your dread intent To stay, dark death, the sculptor's eager hands; The sphinx is his unwithering monument, Immortal mystery on the shifting sands. 120 VERSES SURSUM CORD A 1 R, .ISE, ever upward, rise, aspiring soul I Pause only for brief breath and keener zest Where vistas glimpsing wider interest, Thrill with the prescience of a perfect goal. Up, up! EncircUng views still, still unroll! Scale cliffs and peaks until both east and west And south and north the vision unreprest Soars like an eagle with a world's control. Cease not aspiring, but still upward rise Spurning hfe's precipices with high strife, Conquering far o*er the conquered steeps you trod Until you roll away entombing skies, And win the pinnacles of endless Hfe, Enraptured with an unhorizoned God. 123 THE HEART OF A VALENTINE A, XL parted friends are too far apart And over their parting repine, And they borrow the flaring hues of art, And they glean the poet's most ardent line, And meet in the gift of a crimson heart, In the heart of a valentine. But you and I fairer messages send And holier bonds intertwine ; Our mutual prayers shall meet and blend In a try sting place divine; And the heart of a friend greet the heart of a friend In the heart of St. Valentine. 124 HOMER H. .OMER, no grander music rolls than thine, Nor sweeter, fresher numbers ever flowed. The brook's clear murmur on its pebbly road And ocean's thunder sound along thy line. Bright too as changeful rays of sunset shine From out some darkening cloud, thy light has glowed Thro' the sole rent of clouded time, and showed Thy soul's creations human and divine. No lips, Greek bard, e'er moulded gentler song, Nor ever voiced a measure more subUme. Hence all that wondrous world of thine became The land of poetry; its people throng The lordUest verse of every tongue and clime; Yet thou, they strangely say, art but a name. 125 QUEEN OF THE EVANGELISTS D AY by day in living letters written, Love and sorrow tracing each its part, Slowly grew a mother's life of Jesus, Mary's fuller gospel of the heart. 126 IN PRAYER lORD, when in quiet prayer, I go apart To speak to Thee, my busy thoughts begin To gossip of the world; and hurrying in On every side, hopes, fears most strangely start Within me. Far, too far from me Thou art, Altho' my deafened soul would gladly win A hushed repose from all this worldly din, A silent talk with Thee, from heart to heart. God, Thou wilt be kind, divinely mild; For whilst my spirit thus confusedly Wanders, Thou art its goal and Thou alone — So, like a mother with her toddling child. Catch up the heart that stumbles towards Thee And take it in both hands unto Thine own. 127 THRO' A GLASS IN A DARK MANNER N, OT where His stars are spilt in golden dust, Not in the stately march from hour to hour Of myriad suns, nor where the dark clouds lower, Masking the flash, the peal, the storm's swift gust, Nor on great seas, nor where land's quaking crust Spurts lava and spouts death in ashy shower, — Not there alone in His gigantic power, Do we revere the God in Whom we trust; 128 Nay, He is God of fruits and sunlit day, God of the flowers and clasping hands of earth, Who moulds the marvels of a mother's heart, Yet, Love all beauteous, in created clay Thou couldst not set a semblance of Thy worth. Only a silhouette of what Thou art. 139 ADORATION jO, lightly swayed by the summer winds Swings many a censer of silver and gold; And the fragrance poured from the flowers of earth To heaven in grateful love is rolled. i3o IN A CHURCH When first lighted by electricity F, LAMING corollas round great disks of snow And silver trefoils fashioned all of light Flash out their molten petals on the night. A field of flowers! How wondrous do they blow! What splendors from their burning faces flow! Splendors, which would unveil the statue's sight, Deceive the sculptured angels into flight, And poured thro' parting eyehds set aglow Their hearts of stone, did they not slumber deep Enraptured with the glory of the Lord, The snow-white radiance of eternity. Dream on, fixt forms; and we'U away to reap What further harvests Nature may afibrd And pour them at God's feet unstintingly. i3i REMORSE I SEARCH my heart in the morning sun For the passion that burned there bright, And naught I find save a pale, thin moon, The ghost of a vanished night. 182 THE MARVELS OF HYGIENE B 'ENIGHTED pagans of a purblind age, You thronged Rome's shows on mangled limbs to gloat, Untaught by ancient narrowness to note What loftier lessons might your minds engage! Our modern showmen cry, with thrift more sage: "Hygiene thro' sin can sanctity promote. Teach meekness by the sHtting of a throat And virtue from adulteries on the stage." "Let me this hygienic lore impart," Begs Satan in his last and best disguise; "Put cautiousness for conscience in the heart, And flame the eager blood thro' curious eyes; Then, look, the rash fruition of desire Will risk disease or death or hell's long fire." i33 MY STANDARD HE soldier loves his tattered flag. Shall Christ's Heart win less love from me? Bravely It bears the wounds of fight And bleeds with love's full victory. i34 "HISTORY IN A BACK YARD''^ w, HAT, that back yard? Oh, some few feet of sward. No, not a lawn! That name were quite too fine. 'Tis grass, whereon the random smibeams shine With shifting, leafy shadows motley-marred; No marvels will the hm'ried glance reward. Mulberry, poplgo*, maple, a poor vine, Odd flowers, one fence along a neighbor's line, — That's all! Those are the treasures of the yard. So had we thought, dear friend, but you uplift The veil of custom from our purblind gaze; You from your garden's garnered placers sift Gold grains of truth, the driftage of all days; And we may see thro' your divining gift New Eldorados in undreamt-of ways. i35 TOO SOON! For a picture of the Infant Jesus on a Cross M .Y Jesukin, why such a crib? Let mother's sweet love fondle Thee; Upon her breast Thy resting place And there Thy chalice be. Alas, that thou shouldst bring the Cross To Bethlehem from Calvary I i36 THE WAY TO BETHLEHEM I ASK not the call of a silver star With a cold beam gleaming thro' the sky, When You would have my heart come nigh To be forever where You are. Nor hasten my steps with angel chants That daze with the wonders they reveal, Where half in fearfulness, half in trance, I am awed and in silent worship kneel. But win me with looks of new-bom eyes, With hands held out from a mother's breast, With weakness craving to be caressed. With the plaintiveness of life's first cries. Give me such summons, Lord, to obey, And my captive heart will be thrall to them. Ah, many Your calls, but be mine the way, To travel by love to Bethlehem I i37 A CHRISTMAS WISH M. AY the hallowed dawn of Christ's dear birth Break white on the darkness drear; Bring Merry Christmas to gloomy earth Thro' the daylight of laughing cheer, And flood with noon splendor of simny mirth The whole of the coming year! i38 A CHRISTMAS STAR lOOK, out of the sky thro' the dark of the night Dawns the quivering point of a star; One bright drop left of the wide dayUght That floods from a sun afar. And out on the hills where the night wind chills, A child to his mother has come, And his splendor pales in dim, earthly veils, Far away from his heaven and home. But give me the vision of Magi eyes Or the heart of the mother-maid. And one star-ray shall Hght heaven's day Where my Christ in His manger is laid. iSg OLD DAYS ON THE SUSQUEHANNA HERE'S a spot that memory hallows, With its stretch of pools and shallows, Where the turbid Lackawamia meets another river's roar, And tonight my saddened spirit, Seeks that childhood haunt and near it. Where I saw the Susquehanna in the days that are no more. Ah, in joy I still remember, How with comrades, Kthe and limber, Many a time we panting ran a hurried race along the shore; Then the luscious plunge and shiA^^er, And the splashing in the river. In the cooHng Susquehanna, in the days that are no morel . i4o There was swift or languid boating, Floating, fishing; fishing, floating, Till the hunger had made manna of the angler's frugal store, Till the tired hands thrilled with pleasure, Lifting in a strugghng treasure From the teeming Susquehanna in the days that are no more. Then I hear the bright steel ringing, And the songs when North winds stinging Spread a level ice savaima where the ripples sang before. Still I see the rapid races And the skaters' balanced graces On the frozen Susquehanna in the days that are no more. i4i Fair the streams of the Atlantic, Fair the Western streams gigantic, That down for Louisiana many mingled waters poiu-, They and other streams are famous, But their charms will never blame us If we love old Susquehanna in the days that are no more. Many a lad now long has slumbered, Many a comrade now is numbered With the hosts that sing hosanna, with the angels that adore ; Yet tho' hushed their merry voices, Memory hears them and rejoices, Hears them by the Susquehanna in the days that are no more. l42 So let hours be dark with sadness, I can Ught them up with gladness, By my dreams of Pennsylvania and of friends I knew of yore; And my worn and weary spirit Finds a solace that will cheer it, In the good old Susquehanna and the days that £ure no more. i43 MIRACLES HE comets cross our ordered sky From some far off beyond, Obedient to a greater law And swung upon a larger bond. i44 A REQUEST VyH, you have seen him coming thro' the door, While, crying, " Mother, look at this — and thisi" He spread a few fomid treasm'es on the floor, And gazed upon cheap trifles with proud bliss. Then you, aJl kindness for the love you bore. Looked thro' his eyes and saw not aught amiss. This is my all, the trinkets of my store; So look on mine as you have looked on his. i45 AT LAST s OME day a year will be begun, Launched like a ship into the sea, And glide down the tide Nor ever another be launched for me. Sometime a month its race will run; And day on day go hurrying past With beat of swift feet, But not my ears shall hear the last. Some morn a dawn will flood the East; And ruddy hours will surge to white Till day ebbs away; But I shall not be there at night. i46 Some hour, their folded wings released, A flock of minutes, sadly few, Alas, will all pass And most escape one straining view. Some moment — ah, when must it be? — Will flame into a sudden spark. Nor die to the eye Ere I shaU fade into the dark. So every day there slips by me, Like an assassin in the gloom, With blade aU arrayed. The destined second of my doom. i47 NOTES * What an Irishman Means by Machree has been put to music by George A. Gartlan and pubKshed by Leo Feist, New York City. 2 The Service Flag is written to the air, The Top of the Morning (O'Neill's Music of Ireland, No. 1571, p. 291). Both words and music are published by the author of the present work. Oliver Ditson Co., Bos- ton, publish the words and music of The Flag of Our Skies. ' Song for Fordham Men is written to the air. Ye Na- tives of this Nation, an old Jacobite marching song, found in Joyce's Old Irish Folk Music and Songs, No. 33, p. 19. * The Voices of the Irish. — "I read the heading of the letter which contained the words, ' The Voice of the Irish,' and methought I heard in my mind the voice of those who were near the wood of Focluth, which is by the Western Sea." — *S/. Patrick's Dream from his " Con- fessions." ^ To Mother M. Xavier, written for the Golden Jubilee of the Sisters of Charity in New Jersey, which was celebrated by the dedication of St. Elizabeth's College Chapel. Mother Xavier was. for more than fifty years superior of the community she founded. ^ " History in My Back Yard " is the title of an inter- esting brochure, revealing the history in common things and written by Dr. Lucy M. Salmon, Head of the Vas- sal History Department. i48 :!::-i^ LIBRARY OF CONGRESS