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 COPVRJGHT DEPOSIT. 
 
RHYTHMIC RIPPLES 
 

RHYTHMIC RIPPLES 
 
 OCCASIONAL VERSES 
 
 BY 
 
 ALFRED VAN DERWERKEN 
 
 The love of some hearts like the anvil's bright spark, 
 Flashes spasmodic then goes out in the dark. 
 The love of a friend who is constant as light, 
 Like stars will shine brighter the darker the night. 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 PRIVATELY PRINTED FOR THE AUTHOR 
 
 1910 
 
15 
 
 Copyright, igio, by 
 ALFRED VAN DERWERKEN 
 
 THE TROW PRESS, NEW YORK 
 
 C fl. A :• n r ; 6 c - 3 
 
DEDICATION 
 
 TO one whose qualities of head and heart 
 Supremely reign, devoid of human art, 
 Whose soul shines forth irom eyes of purest 
 
 blue, 
 Which rival heaven's azure heights in hue, 
 Whose life all virtues crown with heav'nly 
 
 grace, 
 Faith, hope, and love have each a sacred place, 
 In whom the song bird of affection sings 
 Its dulcet notes, from which true sweetness 
 
 springs ; 
 To her, My Wife, God's precious gift so rare, 
 I dedicate this book with earnest prayer. 
 
DE HALVE MAEN sailed with majesty 
 On Hudson's rippling waters ; 
 On its banks with wondering eyes, 
 Stood native sons and daughters. 
 The quaint Dutch ship pushed on by wind, 
 
 The red man did admire, 
 But he ne'er thought the future craft, 
 Would be propelled by fire. 
 
TO MY FRIENDS 
 
 THE verses contained within the covers of 
 this little volume were written at odd 
 times, simply for the writer's amusement. He 
 has never dignified them enough to call them 
 poems, knowing full well their lack of poetic 
 worth and merit, and they would not appear in 
 book form now, if it were not for the fact that 
 some of his friends have urged him to do so, 
 that they might have a souvenir copy as a keep- 
 sake. They are the efforts of an amateur, who 
 sometimes listened to the voice of the Muse, and 
 who clothed his thoughts in rhythmic language. 
 That all unprofessional defects may be over- 
 looked by the reader is the humble desire of 
 the one who offers this explanation, and who 
 will now draw aside the curtain, make a pro- 
 found bow, and proceed with the show. If you 
 feel that you have not been adequately compen- 
 sated for the time spent in looking over this 
 museum of curios, you will be at perfect liberty 
 to think the same as the sanctimonious camp- 
 meeting parson did when the sacrilegious mos- 
 quito stepped upon his polished pate and pre- 
 sented his bill at the supreme moment of his 
 7 
 
inspiration ; and then call around to the box office 
 and have refunded to you what you have ex- 
 pended — nothing — and receive my thanks. 
 
 Now let the meagre show begin, 
 
 Sound forth the bugle call, 
 And bring the Dutchman's freaks all in — 
 
 Lean and fat, short and tall. 
 No doubt there are some to contemn, 
 
 But be both just and fair, 
 Then let the critic's voice condemn, 
 
 The ones he will not spare. 
 Pray bear in mind the amateur 
 
 Is not a true-born poet, 
 And oft he's called on to endure 
 
 Things he would fain forget. 
 So in your hands he'll leave his case, 
 
 Your verdict he'll await, 
 And he will take it with good grace 
 
 What'er you intimate. 
 
 The Author. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Retrospection 15 
 
 Woman Man's Equal 19 
 
 Never Despair 20 
 
 Let Me Sleep In A Flower 21 
 
 The Warning Clock 22 
 
 Man's Revenge 25 
 
 Yosemite Valley 26 
 
 The Parson's Fun 27 
 
 Fair Woman 29 
 
 Snow Kisses 30 
 
 Devotional Pleasure 31 
 
 The Dutchman's Toast 32 
 
 Greatness 33 
 
 The Whisper 33 
 
 The Bow Of Promise 34 
 
 Meditation 35 
 
 The Record Of Life 36 
 
 Lines To A Friend 37 
 
 Easter Morning 37 
 
 The Star Of Love 38 
 
 To A Deceased Friend 39 
 
 Be Content 40 
 
 Consolation 41 
 
 9 
 
PAGE 
 
 Why Is It? 42 
 
 The Mustache 45 
 
 The Abstainer's Resolution 46 
 
 The Silvery Moon 47 
 
 To My Boy's Photograph 47 
 
 A Lesson From The Tree 40 
 
 A Little Sick Friend's Guardian Angel . . 52 
 
 To My Daughter 53 
 
 Just A Smile 54 
 
 My Petition 55 
 
 To The Ligurian Bee 57 
 
 I Think Of Thee 59 
 
 The Politician's Fate 62 
 
 A Father's Lament 66 
 
 The Miser 68 
 
 The Stars 69 
 
 My Mother 70 
 
 To My Youngest Son 72 
 
 The Dear Old Homestead 73 
 
 What Constitutes Nobility 77 
 
 The Death Angel 80 
 
 The Dutchman's Greeting 81 
 
 I Walked In The Silence 82 
 
 Lines To An Unfaithful Friend .... 85 
 
 Thou Art Gone 87 
 
 Kindness Costs But Little 89 
 
 To The Waves 91 
 
 Accompanying A Gift 92 
 
 A Thought 92 
 
 10 
 
On The Fly Leaf Of A Book To A Friend 
 
 PAGE 
 
 . 92 
 
 The Waning Night 
 
 ■ 93 
 
 Youthful Folly 
 
 ■ 94 
 
 A Tribute To Our Little Jim . 
 
 ■ 97 
 
 To My Dear Young Friend 
 
 . 99 
 
 Let Us Scatter Our Flowers 
 
 . 99 
 
 Lines Suggested By The Death Of An Infidel 
 
 . IOI 
 
 The Crystal Tree 
 
 . 102 
 
 The Engagement Ring 
 
 . 102 
 
 An Imploration To Bacchus 
 
 • 103 
 
 Lines On Receiving A Present . 
 
 no 
 
 The Discharged Convict 
 
 . 112 
 
 Poetry 
 
 ■ 115 
 
 The Frantic Man 
 
 Il6 
 
 The Flower Teacheth 
 
 117 
 
 Something That Gold Cannot Buy . 
 
 117 
 
 As We Journey Through Life . 
 
 119 
 
 To My Guests 
 
 121 
 
 The Little Bootblack 
 
 122 
 
 The Guiding Star 
 
 126 
 
 To My Dear Young Friend F 
 
 127 
 
 The Flower's Smile 
 
 128 
 
 Let The Sunshine Peep In 
 
 I3O 
 
 The Potency Of Influence 
 
 131 
 
 Dear Sister And I 
 
 *33 
 
 The Angel's Voice 
 
 134 
 
 To Young Men 
 
 136 
 
 A Stray Thought 
 
 137 
 
 Accompanying A Gift 
 
 137 
 
 II 
 
PAGE 
 
 My Prayer Upon The Sand . . . .138 
 
 Mother's Love The Truest 139 
 
 To My Deceased And Beloved Friend . . 141 
 
 The Poor Beggar 143 
 
 A Leap Year Song 145 
 
 Fear Not, Thy God Is Near .... 148 
 
 My Favorite 149 
 
 Look Not Upon The Wine 150 
 
 What Is Death 151 
 
 To My Guests 153 
 
 Original Toasts 156 
 
 Toast To All My Friends 167 
 
 To My Friends 168 
 
 12 
 
RHYTHMIC RIPPLES 
 
RETROSPECTION 
 
 LINES DEDICATED TO MY WIFE 
 
 WHEN you and I were young, dear wife, 
 We knew not aught of sorrow; 
 When joys flowed from the spring of life, 
 
 We thought not of the morrow. 
 'Twas then a bird sang in our hearts 
 
 Its thrilling song of rapture; 
 And Cupid sped his love-tipped darts, 
 Our very souls to capture. 
 
 The spark of love flashed into flame, 
 
 Faith made it burn still brighter; 
 Our two hearts soon as one became, 
 
 To make life's burdens lighter. 
 Our wedding day dawned rosy, fair, 
 
 And nothing marred our pleasure; 
 All nature seemed our bliss to share, 
 
 When God gave me my treasure. 
 
 We launched our bark on life's broad stream^ 
 
 And guided it in union ; 
 The voyage was like a charming dream, 
 
 As we held sweet communion. 
 15 
 
Our chart was truth, our compass love, 
 
 Our hope as anchor serving, 
 Our pilot was the God above, 
 
 Whose guidance was not swerving. 
 
 At times storm-clouds dispelled our dream 
 
 And shaded all its beauty, 
 Until the sun with golden beam 
 
 Called forth our praise, as duty; 
 And then a rainbow's tinted span 
 
 Curved up with grace most cheerful; 
 It was God's covenant with man, 
 
 That bade us not be fearful. 
 
 In course of time we shipped a crew, 
 
 And each was welcomed, surely; 
 A gift from heaven of children true, 
 
 And all were cherished purely. 
 Our bark was manned in royal state, 
 
 To sail the sea together; 
 I was the captain, you the mate, 
 
 Through every change of weather. 
 
 We ruled with love our gentle three, 
 
 And looked for their compliance; 
 No hint was there of mutiny, 
 
 Instead they gave affiance. 
 Obedience was their law of life, 
 
 To grant our wish their pleasure; 
 They showed no jealousy nor strife, 
 
 Their love we could not measure. 
 16 
 
We're sailing still midst changing scenes 
 
 Of panoramic beauty; 
 Happier far than kings or queens, 
 
 We find a joy in duty. 
 If marriage be a doubtful scheme, 
 
 And often proves delusive, 
 To us, my dear, 'twas not a dream 
 
 Of blessedness, elusive. 
 
 Ah! no, dear wife, God's gift to me, 
 
 Thy love has failed me never; 
 And once again I vow to thee, 
 
 That naught our hearts shall sever. 
 Thy presence fills our home with grace, 
 
 And leaves no room for sadness: 
 In thee all virtues have their place, 
 
 Thy smile diffuses gladness. 
 
 Thou hast been faithful to thy vow, 
 
 To love and cherish without dearth, 
 At thy pure shrine my soul doth bow, 
 
 For thou hast been my heaven on earth. 
 Thy life seems like a smile beamed down 
 
 From out the jasper courts above, 
 Where angels weave a brilliant crown 
 
 For thee, resplendent with God's love. 
 
 Thou art my guiding star at night, 
 When troubles would appall me; 
 
 Thy timely counsels point to light, 
 When fears would else enthrall me. 
 17 
 
The sunset shades are falling, love; 
 
 The tide is ebbing duly ; 
 Ere long we'll reach the port above, 
 
 And cast our anchor truly. 
 
 Our crew may man some other craft, 
 
 And follow to our haven ; 
 They'll sail by breezes angels waft, 
 
 With richest blessings laden, 
 By yonder crystal sea, we'll meet, 
 
 And, in Christ's grace united, 
 We'll worship at our Captain's feet, 
 
 And know our love requited. 
 
 Since writing the above verses, our eldest son 
 has left us, at the summons of the Great Cap- 
 tain, to take command of a royal bark floating 
 in the ethereal sea. 
 
 Our eldest born, one of our crew, 
 
 Was called to a higher duty ; 
 He sailed the sea of purest blue, 
 
 In craft of heavenly beauty. 
 A seraph guided it afar, 
 
 With Faith and Hope well laden; 
 'Twas anchored to a silvery star, 
 
 In Love's celestial haven. 
 
 He landed on this starry sphere, 
 
 His kingdom now eternal; 
 His voyage done, his vision clear 
 
 As to things that are supernal. 
 18 
 
He's waiting in this mansion bright, 
 With laurels woven on his brow, 
 
 And guards us from the heav'nly height — 
 For he's our guardian angel now. 
 
 WOMAN MAN'S EQUAL 
 
 GOD'S first great workmanship was man, 
 Woman came next in His wise plan ; 
 Both were fitted for their duty, 
 He in strength and she in beauty. 
 Though latest from the hand Divine, 
 She foremost is in works benign ; 
 While man's great works all must revere, 
 Woman stands forth his noble peer. 
 
 Then why do bitter cynics aim 
 
 Their venomed darts at woman's fame? 
 
 Why seek to cast her from her height, 
 
 Attained through valiant deeds of right? 
 
 Why trail her banner in the dust 
 
 By cruel words of dark distrust? 
 
 Her record measures far above 
 
 That made by man, in deeds of love. 
 
 Man's intellect may keener be 
 To delve in things of high degree ; 
 His grasp on science shows a mind 
 That soars beyond the womankind. 
 19 
 
From woman's finer nature springs 
 That quality of heart, that brings 
 Her treasured wealth of virtues rare, 
 To crown her queen, divinely fair. 
 
 NEVER DESPAIR 
 
 WE gaze in the mirror of life, 
 And view ourselves through our own eyes, 
 We think of our troubles and strife, 
 But forget our blessings to prize. 
 We magnify sorrow and care, 
 
 And we fret, and worry, and fume, 
 And give ourselves up to despair, 
 Converting life's sunshine to gloom. 
 
 We fancy our lot very hard, 
 
 And more than we're able to bear, 
 But we somehow never regard 
 
 The burdens that others must share. 
 We think that we sail all alone 
 
 On the breast of life's changing sea, 
 That our bark is the only one blown 
 
 On the reefs, we cannot foresee. 
 
 Let us for a moment observe 
 
 The millions now bending to earth, 
 
 'Neath burdens that strain every nerve, 
 A curse they have borne from their birth; 
 20 
 
The throng who are pleading for aid, 
 Who hunger and starve while we feast, 
 
 Whose aching forms never have laid 
 On a bed, who sleep like the beast. 
 
 While we think our load is not light, 
 
 And our happiness sorrows mar, 
 There are thousands now in life's fight, 
 
 Who are very much worse off by far. 
 Let our hearts with gratitude sing, 
 
 And resolve our burdens to bear, 
 And thus deprive life of its sting, 
 
 And never give up in despair. 
 
 LET ME SLEEP IN A FLOWER 
 
 WHEN the summons shall come, and my 
 form lies dead, 
 I will not be conscious of the tears you shed ; 
 Stay not the fountain, but let the tear drops flow, 
 For grief that's pent up is the bitterest woe. 
 As my soul leaves my body all silent and cold, 
 O may a sweet bud my spirit infold ; 
 And there let it sleep till the angel of light, 
 Shall sound the last trumpet on the heavenly 
 
 height, 
 When the flower will burst from its bed in the 
 
 sod, 
 And waft with its perfume my soul to its God. 
 
 21 
 
THE WARNING CLOCK 
 
 THE night was cold, and bleak and drear, 
 In blackness frowned the sky; 
 The starry hosts above the clouds 
 Their vigils kept on high. 
 
 The wind roared forth in fitful gusts, 
 
 And all seemed drear around, 
 When hail and sleet began to dance 
 
 Upon the frozen ground. 
 
 I sat beside the glowing coals, 
 
 And mused as oft I'd done, 
 When quickly spoke the ancient clock, 
 
 And stroked the hour of one. 
 
 I raised my eyes unto its face, 
 
 Some six feet from the floor, 
 When suddenly the hands flew back, 
 
 And pointed to the door. 
 
 Perplexed I sprang upon my feet, 
 
 For puzzled was my brain; 
 Three times I saw the hands progress, 
 
 And then retreat again. 
 
 Of all mysterious things to me, 
 This surely crowned them all; 
 
 I sank into my easy chair, 
 My senses to recall. 
 
 22 
 
I mused and thought, and pondered much, 
 When forth the clock pealed slow 
 
 Four solemn strokes, which said to me 
 " Thy comfort here forego." 
 
 Obeyed I then the warning notes, 
 That through the silence tore, 
 
 I donned my hat and fur-lined cloak, 
 This mystery to explore. 
 
 The door flew back without my aid, 
 
 And in the open space 
 The cutting sleet, and snow, and hail 
 
 Came dashing in my face. 
 
 I half recoiled, and thought it mad 
 
 To brave the driving blast; 
 Just then I heard a piteous cry, 
 
 That made me stand aghast. 
 
 No longer could I hesitate, 
 
 For surely now I knew 
 The hand of God was guiding me, 
 
 And onward forth I flew. 
 
 The air was keen, and dark the street, 
 
 For feeble was the light, 
 The lamp shed faintly on my way, 
 
 That bleak December night. 
 23 
 
I scarce had gone a block, no more, 
 When, hark! what means that moan? 
 
 It came from yon dark alley-way ; 
 'Twas human in its tone. 
 
 I paused and listened, all intent, 
 
 Then groped my way ahead 
 Amid the debris of the place, 
 
 With slow and cautious tread. 
 
 "Halloo!" I said, " who's in distress?" 
 
 " Halloo ! " again I cried, 
 From out the dark no answer came, 
 
 No human voice replied. 
 
 I bent my steps to where the sound 
 
 In muffled tones I heard, 
 I paused, and gazed down near my feet, 
 
 And saw that something stirred. 
 
 I stooped and found a little form, 
 
 It felt as cold as clay, 
 I bore it in my arms, poor thing! 
 
 And turned my steps away. 
 
 I wrapped my cloak around his form, 
 
 He nestled near my heart, 
 Its warmth now stilled his plaintive moan, 
 
 And made his life blood start. 
 24 
 
The darkness unto me was light, 
 
 The storm a sunny smile, 
 Although its fury had increased, 
 
 With ragings fierce and wild. 
 
 I reached my home, the door flew back, 
 
 The room seemed in a blaze, 
 The very hands upon the clock 
 
 Were dancing in a maze. 
 
 I laid my burden gently down, 
 And whispered soft and mild, 
 
 The boy gazed up into my face, 
 And then he sweetly smiled. 
 
 He grew from youth to manhood's prime, 
 And honors crowned his head, 
 
 His creed was love, he blessings brought, 
 And sunshine round him shed. 
 
 MAN'S REVENGE 
 
 THE lamb will kiss the cruel hand, 
 That strikes the fatal blow, 
 The tree will shed its perfumed breath 
 On the blade that lays it low, 
 25 
 
The bird will sing its sweetest song 
 As death cuts short its lays, 
 
 The sun will gild the darkest cloud 
 That seeks to dim its rays. 
 
 But man with reason's gift endowed 
 
 Will nurse revenge, until 
 His love is changed to burning hate, 
 
 Then evil gives for ill. 
 
 O why should these mute soulless ones 
 For man the standard raise? 
 
 Are they possessed of faculties 
 Beyond his mental gaze? 
 
 Then measure up to instinct's mark 
 
 O man! thou erring slave, 
 Convert once more thy bitter hate 
 
 To love, thy brothers crave. 
 
 YOSEMITE VALLEY 
 
 GOD spake His infinite command; 
 The earth revolved divinely grand; 
 He breathed thereon His loving grace, 
 And land and sea found each a place. 
 
 He touched the land with gentle care, 
 And left the beauteous valley where 
 The indentation had been made, 
 Baptized by " Bridal Veil " cascade. 
 26 
 
He smiled, and fragrant flowers grew 
 With perfumed breath, and gorgeous hue, 
 To weave a web of beauty rare, 
 And make a paradise most fair. 
 
 He bathed the flowers with tears of love, 
 Which angels shed for joy above; 
 He curved the rainbow's brilliant span, 
 To crown supreme " El Capitan." 
 
 This stately mount He monarch made, 
 To guard the valley and cascade; 
 Enthroned far in the azure height, 
 He reigns majestic in his might. 
 
 Sleep, Nature's child, where God unfurls 
 And drapes thy veil of liquid pearls ; 
 Rest sweetly 'neath cerulean skies, 
 Thou lovely bride, He glorifies. 
 
 THE PARSON'S FUN 
 
 A PARSON sat by a brook one day, 
 In the shade of a grand old oak ; 
 He watched the beautiful trout at play, 
 And thus to the beauties he spoke : 
 
 " You are nimble and quick as the light, 
 You glide through the water so spry; 
 
 If you'll linger a moment and bite, 
 I'll just cast my little brown fly." 
 
 27 
 
No sooner was it said than 'twas done; 
 
 On the stream the little fly fell ; 
 Jumped a dear little beauty for fun, 
 
 And the Parson landed him well. 
 
 He now gave a wink and a nod, 
 As he saw the large ones below ; 
 
 And he gave not a thought to his rod, 
 As the sequel will very soon show. 
 
 He waded in the water knee deep, 
 He said to himself rather rash. 
 
 "If that fellow will just give a leap, 
 I'll land him as quick as a flash." 
 
 With a sweep of his arm he threw out, 
 As proud as a Parson could be, 
 
 Who had just caught a young speckled trout, 
 In the shade of an old oak tree. 
 
 And the fly touched the water in style, 
 
 'Twas drawn o'er the surface with care, 
 But the Parson was standing meanwhile. 
 On slippery stones unaware. 
 
 And old speckled beauty gave a spring, 
 And caught the decoy on the line; 
 
 The reel gave a click, the line did sing, 
 The fun, thought the Parson, was fine. 
 28 
 
The gay fish gave a dexterous jerk, 
 And the line was running out fast, 
 
 But the fisherman said with a smirk, 
 " I will bring you up short at last." 
 
 The reel he controlled as a warning, 
 And the trout now slackened his speed, 
 
 He bade his tormenter good morning, 
 And the rod he snapped like a reed. 
 
 The good Parson was braced for the fray, 
 His eyes shot a menacing glance, 
 
 But the moss-covered stones gave way, 
 He christened his clerical " pants." 
 
 A good Methodist Parson there is, 
 Who is fond of casting the fly; 
 
 Perhaps this experience is his? 
 To confess he'll be very shy. 
 
 FAIR WOMAN 
 
 WE'LL sing a joyful song of praise 
 To man's sweet mate; 
 She who hath gladdened all his days, 
 And blessed him in ten thousand ways, 
 Early and late. 
 29 
 
God thought it good for mortal man, 
 To have fair woman in His plan, 
 Though latest born she leads the van. 
 
 She leadeth man; why should she not? 
 
 Her chain is love; 
 A queen of hearts ! O bless our lot ; 
 In mercy's deeds man's not forgot. 
 
 The powers above 
 That made her fair, hath made her good; 
 Then chide her not, since reign she would, 
 And let her lead where lead she should. 
 
 She leadeth man; in deeds of love 
 
 She foremost moves; 
 Her soul is gentle as the dove, 
 She walks in paths traced from above, 
 
 And heaven approves. 
 Then let each reign without control, 
 The man in thought, and she in soul, 
 And make the round of duty whole. 
 
 SNOW KISSES 
 
 I WATCHED the downy snow flakes sail 
 Like ships in a sea of air, 
 They floated calmly with the gale, 
 And they drifted everywhere, 
 30 
 
I thought that the angels battled 
 And shot love kisses at foes, 
 
 But no heavenly ramparts rattled 
 As the virgin kisses froze. 
 
 The beautiful frost stars glistened 
 
 Like gems in a royal crown, 
 And the angels bent and listened 
 
 As they saw them shooting down. 
 But no sound was wafted to heaven, 
 
 And sweet peace still reigned above, 
 For no more kisses were given — 
 
 White frozen kisses of love. 
 
 DEVOTIONAL PLEASURE 
 
 A YOUTHFUL maid stood on the strand, 
 Her face was sad and fair; 
 She stood entranced while hand clasped hand, 
 
 In attitude of prayer; 
 Her pleading eyes were turned on high, 
 
 A sigh fell on the breeze; 
 Her bosom heaved, tears bathed each eye, 
 She gave a splendid sneeze. 
 
 3i 
 
THE DUTCHMAN'S TOAST 
 At an Annual Dinner, January 7, 1903. 
 
 WHEN Bacchus fills the flowing bowl, 
 Then sparkling wit, good will and soul, 
 Gush from the pure empyrean height, 
 And mirth springs forth fair queen of night. 
 
 When nectar, clothed in ruby glow, 
 From Bacchanalian fountains flow, 
 Then thoughts, inspired by fires divine, 
 Flash quick and bright, and rise sublime. 
 
 Like brilliant sparks from lover's heart, 
 When pierced by Cupid's love-tipped dart, 
 May mirth shine like a radiant star, 
 Give birth to joy no pain can mar. 
 
 I greet you now, around this board; 
 My heart pours forth its treasured hoard, 
 And bids me drink, in friendship's name, 
 To your good health, long life, fair fame. 
 
 32 
 
GREATNESS 
 
 SOME men are born lucky, and greatness 
 achieve, 
 And some are born rich and due homage receive, 
 Many are born poor with shrewdness and health, 
 And secure for themselves both greatness and 
 
 wealth. 
 My lot is ambition, and greatness must gain 
 In a way, I'm afraid, all others disdain. 
 When I die, I request my friends, with good 
 
 grace, 
 To make me a grave in the old fireplace. 
 And thus all unconscious I'll slumber in state, 
 By mingling my ashes with those of the grate. 
 
 THE WHISPER 
 
 I HEARD a whisper from above, 
 I felt its power divine, 
 It filled my soul with wondrous love, 
 My heart with thoughts sublime. 
 
 What bliss to feel the thrill of love, 
 What joy to know its power, 
 
 How sweet the thought that He above, 
 Smiles on us love each hour. 
 33 
 
THE BOW OF PROMISE 
 
 THOU God-made coronet! 
 In every curve is set 
 His promise true. 
 Blest messenger of love, 
 Tinting the dome above 
 With every hue. 
 
 Glorious bow in space ! 
 On thy prismatic face 
 
 Beams grace divine. 
 Thy arch sprung in the skies, 
 Serves to immortalize 
 
 God's precious sign. 
 
 Thy radiant hues of light, 
 To man a pleasing sight, 
 
 Cause him to hope. 
 Thy consecrated zone, 
 Curves o'er God's brilliant throne 
 
 With graceful scope. 
 
 Thou pure, resplendent gem, 
 Flashed from God's diadem, 
 
 Like spark of love. 
 Bright covenant of peace, 
 That bids the storms to cease 
 
 That rage above. 
 34 
 
When darksome clouds appear, 
 More brilliant glows thy cheer 
 
 For mortal man. 
 Hope paints each beauteous curve, 
 Thy tinted span doth serve 
 
 To show His plan. 
 
 Engraven on thy face, 
 God's mercy man can trace, 
 
 And faith renew. 
 A promise without end 
 With grace and mercy blend, 
 
 In brilliant hue. 
 
 MEDITATION 
 
 I WATCHED the dark and frenzied tide, 
 As I walked upon the strand, 
 And saw a wave roll wave aside 
 To kiss the silvery sand. 
 
 And then I thought how much like life, 
 
 If such be this transient stay, 
 A selfish and unceasing strife, 
 
 A slave to ambition's sway. 
 
 With thoughts like this I gazed far out 
 
 On the deep but placid sea, 
 The scene at once was changed about, 
 
 Dearer now life seemed to me. 
 35 
 
I then peered in the deep blue sky, 
 And thought of the crystal sea, 
 
 Of the beautiful shore near by, 
 And the Christlike life to be. 
 
 How sweet the thought to be heaven's guest, 
 
 To dwell in the sapphire zone, 
 Numbered among the good and blest, 
 
 With sin and death unknown. 
 
 THE RECORD OF LIFE 
 
 THIS beautiful world is a college, 
 And we graduate here when we die, 
 The experience gained in this school, 
 Will survive in our mission on high. 
 
 Our character, too, is immortal, 
 
 It is that which we carry away, 
 When the angel's dark shadow sweeps o'er us, 
 
 And he points to eternity's day. 
 
 How choice we should be of each action, 
 And our thoughts in this valley of strife, 
 
 Which are stamped on the tablet of memory, 
 For we'll be judged from this record of life ! 
 
 36 
 
LINES TO A FRIEND 
 Accompanying a Birthday Gift 
 
 AS the years come and go may the shadows 
 of life 
 Be dispersed by the sunshine of love; 
 In the battle of earth 'tis God's shield in the 
 strife, 
 And was shed by the angels above. 
 And may this slight token, like the anvil's bright 
 spark, 
 Flood your heart like a beauteous ray ; 
 Accept it, dear friend, with my love, as a mark 
 Of true friendship, on this your birthday. 
 
 EASTER MORNING 
 
 WITH will supreme on Easter day, 
 Christ burst His bonds and conquered 
 death, 
 For He resumed in His cold clay, 
 The life divine and vital breath. 
 
 His mighty pow'r o'er hell He sealed, 
 And from the grave took victory, 
 
 And thus confirmed what He revealed 
 When in the home at Bethany. 
 37 
 
This joyous day the Prince of Light 
 For all mankind illum'd the world, 
 
 And filled all hearts with pure delight, 
 
 When Death from his dark throne He hurled. 
 
 Rejoice! Rejoice! the angel throng 
 Sing loud hosannas through the skies, 
 
 Blending with their glorious song, 
 
 The sweetest strains from earth arise. 
 
 We hail Him Saviour, Advocate, 
 
 Shout hallelujah ! let it ring, 
 While angels and archangels wait 
 
 Near heaven's throne, to crown Him King. 
 
 THE STAR OF LOVE 
 
 GOD smiled, and lo ! against the sapphire field 
 above, 
 A lustrous orb appeared as white as virgin 
 snow; 
 This dazzling light of joy was born of purest 
 love, 
 And shed its brilliance on the pulsing earth 
 below. 
 
 38 
 
It filled all space, and all resplendent orbs of 
 space, 
 And entered every heart that throbbed with 
 God's pure breath, 
 It was His gift to man, reflex of heavenly grace, 
 On which salvation rests, when man is sealed 
 in death. 
 
 TO A DECEASED FRIEND 
 In Memory of the Rev. J. A. 
 
 FAREWELL, dear friend, although we part 
 To meet, alas! on earth no more, 
 Still deep within my inmost heart 
 My love will rest a treasured store. 
 
 How many bright and happy days 
 We've spent together in the past ; 
 
 The lesson of thy Godlike ways 
 Will teach me wisdom to the last. 
 
 But now I'll dry the trembling tear, 
 Those tears of love for thee I've shed, 
 
 Because I know there's nought to fear, 
 Thou livest yet though to me dead. 
 39 
 
BE CONTENT 
 
 WHY this ceaseless care and bustle? 
 Why this waste of brain and muscle? 
 Why this toil for earthly treasure? 
 Why this scheming without measure? 
 Our fathers lived without this strife, 
 They worried not, and lengthened life: 
 Earthly treasure brings much sorrow, 
 Our's to-day and gone to-morrow. 
 
 If man possessed this world's vast wealth, 
 Gained at the sacrifice of health, 
 What comfort, joy, or happiness, 
 With all this wealth would he possess? 
 Then why still fight, and think, and plan, 
 With once enough for life's brief span? 
 For death will come with his dark frown, 
 And smite the head that wears the crown. 
 
 Into this world we naked came, 
 We'll leave it, also, just the same; 
 And all the gold of Afric's sands, 
 Can't change what God divinely plans. 
 Our soul is that he seeks to save, 
 And grants us life beyond the grave, 
 He riches adds that perish not, 
 And joy and bliss will be our lot. 
 40 
 
Then while we tread this troubled way, 
 Let's pave the path to endless day, 
 And not with greedy zeal seek wealth, 
 Have peace of mind, preserve our health; 
 For all this worry, care, and strife, 
 Will much abridge this transient life ; 
 Then let us dwell in richest love, 
 And gain, at last, that wealth above. 
 
 CONSOLATION 
 
 FROM out the bright and azure sky 
 The darkest clouds have rolled, 
 But weeping blessings on the earth, 
 
 The sweetest flowers unfold. 
 From out the dew-kissed sable night 
 
 Evolves the light of day, 
 And when the chilly gloom hath fled, 
 The regal sun holds sway. 
 
 We pluck no rose without a thorn, 
 
 Our joy oft turns to pain, 
 The bitter with the sweet we sip, 
 
 A loss is sometimes gain. 
 The choicest flower that blooms on earth, 
 
 And fades without a sigh, 
 Doth teach us that the fairest thing 
 
 May live, and yet must die. 
 41 
 
Disaster comes in brightest hours, 
 
 And grief makes sad the heart, 
 But blessings follow in its path, 
 
 And bid our grief depart. 
 The stars, to sparkle like the gem, 
 
 Must have the darkest night; 
 Without the storm, no beauteous bow 
 
 Will span the heavenly height. 
 
 And now, dear friend, console thyself ; 
 
 When all seems dark and drear 
 The clouds will part, the sun shine forth, 
 
 And Hope's bright bow appear. 
 Then heavenward gaze ! O banish grief ! 
 
 And dry the burning tear; 
 Christ murmured not, yet suffered death, 
 
 Grieve not! thy God is near. 
 
 WHY IS IT? 
 
 WHY is it that a man may sin, 
 And trail his honor in the dust, 
 Then be received in homes of wealth, 
 
 Though he be steeped in sinful lust? 
 Why this should be I do not know, 
 Full well I know that it is so; 
 A burning shame that this should be 
 The dictate of society. 
 42 
 
Why is it when a woman falls, 
 
 Confiding victim of a man, 
 The gates of mercy close to her, 
 
 And on her life there rests a ban? 
 Why this should be I fail to know, 
 Full well I know that it is so ; 
 Christ forgave the sinner's score — 
 Said " Go in peace and sin no more." 
 
 For man the " fatted calf " is killed, 
 
 He's courted as the " Prodigal," 
 As hero he is looked upon, 
 
 And placed upon a pedestal. 
 Why this should be, O, who doth know 
 Save those who make the edict so; 
 Piteous shame that this should be, 
 The sanction of society. 
 
 For woman who is injured most, 
 And shows repentance for her sin, 
 
 There's nought but loathing, scorn, and hate, 
 No door of wealth will let her in. 
 
 Should this wrong be ? O, no, no, no ! 
 
 But heaven echoes it is so ; 
 
 And Christ forbade that it should be, 
 
 When He rebuked the Pharisee. 
 
 Now who are they thus cruelly judge, 
 
 And dub themselves society? 
 Are they above reproach and blame? 
 
 Do they observe propriety? 
 43 
 
Pitying angel is it so? 
 And sadly he doth whisper " No." 
 O let those tell why it should be, 
 Who make so-called society. 
 
 They should guard well their house of glass, 
 
 For social walls are very thin, 
 And never stoop to " cast the stone " 
 
 At those who feel regret for sin. 
 If wise they are they must but know, 
 Their lives have made conditions so ; 
 The world would know why it should be 
 The state of swell society. 
 
 Pray what is this exclusive class 
 But bubble filled with emptiness ? 
 
 And when it bursts their fruitless lives 
 Are blasted by its bitterness. 
 
 Why it should be I fain would know, 
 
 Full well I know that it is so ; 
 
 Will not some mortal tell to me 
 
 Why this is called society? 
 
 Recording angel, drop a tear, 
 
 Blot from deluded souls this shame, 
 
 Bid them the contrite sinner save, 
 And help redeem her name and fame. 
 
 Why this should be the angels know, 
 
 For God proclaimed it long ago ; 
 
 Then joy will reign eternally, 
 
 When souls are filled with charity. 
 44 
 
THE MUSTACHE 
 (A Parody) 
 
 BARBER, spare that mustache! 
 Touch not a single hair ! 
 Its presence on my face 
 
 Is my fond pride and care. 
 For years it braved the storm 
 
 Of jest, and jeer, and scoff — 
 Pray, barber, harm it not, 
 Nor seek to clip it off. 
 
 That nicely groomed mustache, 
 With which the zephyrs play, 
 
 Was of an auburn cast, 
 
 But ah ! it's turned to gray. 
 
 Then, barber, stay thy hand, 
 Nor let thy razor slip: 
 
 let it long remain 
 
 To grace my upper lip ! 
 
 When but a beardless youth, 
 I tried to coax it out, 
 
 1 used the creams of France, 
 But could not make it sprout. 
 
 The germ I knew was there, 
 My mother kissed the spot, 
 
 It then began to grow, 
 O barber, touch it not! 
 45 
 
Fond mem'ries round thee cling, 
 
 My dear albino friend; 
 I'll wax thee now with joy, 
 
 And curl each stubborn end. 
 Short though thy form may be, 
 
 Long may thy hair ship wave; 
 No razor's edge shall harm 
 
 While there's a hair to save. 
 
 THE ABSTAINER'S RESOLUTION 
 
 FOR twelve short months I'll steer my craft, 
 And watch for breakers fore and aft ; 
 My reason must be made to serve 
 As helmsman, while I bend each nerve 
 To discipline my passions, till 
 They bow submissive to my will. 
 I know at times the heaving sea 
 May strain my bark in keel and knee ; 
 My compass will be reason's light, 
 By which to steer both day and night, 
 My chart shall manhood's honor be, 
 To guide from reefs unknown to me. 
 And when the journey just begun 
 Shall end in port, with laurels won, 
 I'll land the cargo of resolve, 
 Let reason future journeys solve. 
 
 4 6 
 
THE SILVERY MOON 
 
 OMOON, twin sister of the sun! 
 While he doth kiss the new-born day 
 Thy beams doth court the starry night. 
 Thy bridal veil is silv'ry sheen, 
 In beauty draped o'er all the earth, 
 In unconscious sleep enchained. 
 The soft refulgence of thy rays 
 
 Doth wrap a halo round thy form, 
 That rivals in resplendent charm 
 
 The sunset glow in glory born. 
 
 TO MY BOY'S PHOTOGRAPH 
 
 WHILE sitting in my old arm chair, 
 I gaze upon thy face; 
 I note each feature, eyes and hair, 
 
 And brow of classic grace. 
 Thou gazeth silent on thy sire, 
 
 With eyes of mildest blue, 
 But lack they now that living fire, 
 That once they flashed so true. 
 
 Thy mouth is closed, thy tongue is dumb, 
 
 Thou canst not speak to me, 
 I wait in vain thy voice to come, 
 
 And part those lips in glee. 
 47 
 
I speak to thee from aching heart, 
 
 And tell thee of my grief, 
 I fain implore thee to impart 
 
 One word, however brief. 
 
 Oh! that thy voice might reach my ear, 
 
 To tell me of thy joy, 
 To bid my soul have nought to fear, 
 
 For thee, my saintly boy. 
 I'd have thee tell me of thy life, 
 
 All free from grief and tears, 
 And of that clime unknown to strife, 
 
 Where ecstatic music cheers. 
 
 But no, there sounds no cheery voice, 
 
 No soul responds to mine, 
 To make my lonely heart rejoice 
 
 In unison with thine. 
 Thy bow-curved lips speak not the love, 
 
 Thy heart once held for me, 
 For God hath sealed them from above, 
 
 By stern, yet just decree. 
 
 I look upon thy manly form, 
 
 That breathed its love for me, 
 From out a heart all true and warm, 
 
 And soul of high degree. 
 And wonder if 'twill rise once more 
 
 From out its bed of clay, 
 United to thy soul, to soar 
 
 Through space, to endless day. 
 
 4 8 
 
I sometimes think perhaps this life 
 
 Is all that we possess, 
 That when we leave this world of strife, 
 
 And all its wretchedness. 
 We're bound by dark oblivion's chain, 
 
 And rest in endless sleep, 
 Free from all trouble, care, and pain, 
 
 Where souls ne'er wake to weep. 
 
 And yet, dear boy, I cannot believe 
 
 That thou art lost to me; 
 To reason's faith I still must cleave, 
 
 For God will care for thee. 
 I feel that we shall meet within 
 
 A brighter world, somewhere, 
 And that this life, redeemed from sin, 
 
 Will be continued there. 
 
 I know 'tis wrong that I should grieve, 
 
 For blissful life is thine, 
 But oh ! dear boy, canst thou conceive 
 
 The loneliness of mine? 
 Thy mother, too, and sister dear, 
 
 Thy wife and brother all 
 Mourn oft for thee, with hearts sincere, 
 
 For dark is sorrow's pall. 
 
 God's house the universe may be, 
 The stars His many mansions, 
 
 And Christ hath now prepared for thee 
 A place of grand expansions. 
 49 
 
Like Adam in fair Eden bright, 
 
 You may a star attain, 
 And there you'll meet your Eve of light 
 
 And o'er a kingdom reign. 
 
 But while we grieve and mourn and weep, 
 
 We feel for thee no fear, 
 And when our eyes are closed in sleep, 
 
 Thy spirit hovers near; 
 A language to our hearts you speak, 
 
 In tones a spirit knows, 
 And thou dost bid us all to seek 
 
 The comfort God bestows. 
 
 Farewell, dear boy, the tide doth ebb, 
 
 And soon I'll cross the sea; 
 For me, stern Time will weave a web, 
 
 Like one he wove for thee; 
 He'll speed his bark with muffled oar, 
 
 Nor tarry till he reach 
 Thy side, on yon celestial shore, 
 
 Where love waves kiss the beach. 
 
 A LESSON FROM THE TREE 
 
 (A Metaphor) 
 
 ROAMED in a field on a bright summer day, 
 And I paused underneath a tree by the way, 
 I admired its fair and symmetrical form, 
 With its garb of green beauty just newly born. 
 50 
 
 1 
 
It stood like a king, and royal among 
 The other field tenants, whose praises I'd sung. 
 To me 'twas a marvel of all that was rare, 
 And I thought no other with it could compare. 
 
 I stood all entranced as its graceful boughs 
 swayed, 
 
 And bent to the zephyrs that around them 
 played, 
 
 I envied the sunshine as it came like a thief, 
 
 And kissed the bright dewdrops from each ten- 
 der leaf. 
 
 When birds of great beauty, with plumage of 
 
 fire, 
 Sang in its branches like a heavenly choir, 
 I then grew to love it, this graceful, fair tree, 
 And I thought, in my joy, my friend it would be. 
 
 As the days came and went I sat in its shade, 
 The birds carolled sweetly their soft serenade, 
 I watched it put forth its young fruitage so fair, 
 And I gave it my thought and assiduous care. 
 
 I sang forth its praises to the stranger who came, 
 And turned every shaft that was aimed at its 
 
 fame, 
 It seemed to be grateful for my friendship true, 
 And bid me partake of the fruit that it grew. 
 51 
 
I accepted the gift that it tendered me now, 
 Was told the tree's love was the fruit on the 
 
 bough ; 
 The sunshine had painted the daintiest skin, 
 And I thought it was sweet and luscious within. 
 
 The harvest soon came, and the apple for me 
 Was as fair to the eye as fruit could well be, 
 When placed to the lips it was false at the core, 
 Naught but ashes and gall were all the tree bore. 
 
 How oft in this life some profess to be friends, 
 And seek our best love for their own selfish ends, 
 When put to the test they weigh light as the dew, 
 Their friendship is false, and their heart is un- 
 true! 
 
 A LITTLE SICK FRIEND'S GUARDIAN 
 ANGEL 
 
 DICK'S guardian angel hovered near, 
 To make his youthful life more bright, 
 And to his soul, spoke words of cheer, 
 
 That made his burdened heart more light. 
 The balm of sweetness in his glance, 
 Assuaged the sting of aching pain; 
 The smile on his meek countenance 
 Brought sunshine to Dick's life again. 
 52 
 
This sacred angel, day and night, 
 
 With tender trust his vigil kept; 
 Dick's battle oft he fain would fight, 
 
 As tears of sympathy he wept. 
 In vain he asked the cross to bear, 
 
 While guarding well this patient soul; 
 Oft he breathed a piteous prayer, 
 
 That God would touch and make Dick whole. 
 
 With love the Saviour then looked down, 
 
 To grant the pleading angel's prayer ; 
 He lacked one brilliant in His crown, 
 
 And called this gem, this jewel rare. 
 The angel beckoned from afar, 
 
 With joy devoid of all regret; 
 He bore Dick through " the gates ajar," 
 
 And sealed him in Christ's coronet. 
 
 TO MY DAUGHTER 
 (An Acrostic) 
 
 LO ! thy life is like a streamlet, 
 Onward pulsing bright and free, 
 Virtue is thy crowning ripple, 
 Ever dancing forth from thee. 
 53 
 
From life's storms may seraphs guard thee, 
 And from grief extract the smart, 
 Then let love supremely reigning, 
 Have a throne within thy heart, 
 Evermore to shine the brighter, 
 Ruling there devoid of art. 
 
 JUST A SMILE 
 
 A SMILE that crowns the kindly brow, 
 And nothing costs the giver, 
 Is priceless to the ones who err, 
 
 Makes foes our friends forever. 
 It changes hatred into love, 
 
 Brings joy where sadness reigns, 
 It takes the sting from vengeful hearts, 
 The despairing soul regains. 
 
 It makes the thorny pathway smooth, 
 
 And lights up the darkened way, 
 It lifts the veil when Hope has fled, 
 
 And reveals a brighter day. 
 It shows a heart that's full of love, 
 
 And adds a charm to beauty. 
 It turns deformity to grace, 
 
 And cheers our daily duty. 
 54 
 
Then let a smile our frown succeed, 
 
 As sunshine gilds the cloud, 
 Let cheerfulness bid sadness flee, 
 
 And our souls will be endowed 
 With heavenly smiles, and light of love, 
 
 With higher powers possessed, 
 To cheer the life of burdened man, 
 
 And guide to eternal rest. 
 
 MY PETITION 
 
 THERE dawns an hour in every life, 
 When holy thoughts arise; 
 Lord, bind me, when such thoughts are rife, 
 To Thee by tender ties. 
 
 The stars that shed their lustrous light, 
 
 And like rare jewels shine, 
 Reflect Thy life divinely bright, 
 
 And weld my heart to Thine. 
 
 Should clouds obscure life's tranquil skies, 
 
 And veil Thy face from me, 
 O gaze Thou down with loving eyes, 
 
 And still the storms for me, 
 
 From Thy blest court where angels keep 
 
 Their vigils day and night, 
 When this poor soul is chained in sleep, 
 
 Lord, keep me in Thy sight. 
 55 
 
Like lamps hung in the dome of night, 
 
 To light the sable zone, 
 Let Thy pure love my soul delight, 
 
 And seal it for Thine own. 
 
 When Thou dost call from yonder shore, 
 
 And bid'st me not despair, 
 O teach me then to doubt no more, 
 
 But trust Thy promised care. 
 
 And when life's sands have nearly run, 
 
 And I must speed away, 
 Through seas of space beyond the sun, 
 
 Lord, help me then to pray. 
 
 While standing on the borderland, 
 
 To view the scenes afar, 
 Lord, hold me with Thy loving hand, 
 
 And be my guiding star. 
 
 As I soar past the utmost star, 
 
 Beyond this world of sin, 
 Leave, Thou, the jasper " gates ajar," 
 
 That I may enter in. 
 
 What joy the jeweled walls to see 
 
 Resplendent far above ! 
 Blest Lord, weave Thou a crown for me, 
 
 And gild it with Thy love. 
 
 56 
 
And when within the mystic zone, 
 
 Eternal life I've won, 
 One boon I crave from Thee alone — 
 
 Speak Thou the glad " well done." 
 
 TO THE LIGURIAN BEE 
 
 WONDROUS creature! from nature's 
 boundless realm, 
 With soul inspiring instinct, comest thou 
 In hues of gold, and bronze, and rainbow tints, 
 And with ambrosial nectar well supplied, 
 A gift to man, thy virtue to admire. 
 The great Creator of all created things, 
 Has deemed thee worthy of His thought and 
 
 care, 
 And formed within thee instincts wise and true, 
 Which unto human reason are akin. 
 Far down the vista of the past, we see 
 On history's pages of the days long since, 
 Classic poets and thee were truly friends. 
 Although not understood as now thou art, 
 Since unto science thou hast proved thyself 
 An acquisition worthy of man's thought ; 
 Still Virgil wrote in sweetest strains, and said 
 Thou art a ray from the divinity. 
 And Aristotle praised thy virtues, too. 
 De Montfort, Shakespeare, Homer, Pliny wrote, 
 And Milton learned thy great economy, 
 57 
 
And stooped to pay thee homage, well deserved. 
 Nor did he bend so low as some might think, 
 For of all insects surely thou art queen, 
 A symbol of royalty thou hast been, 
 As Egypt's monuments reveal the fact; 
 E'en before man, it is supposed thou wert, 
 For did not flowers breathe their sweet perfume, 
 And was not nectar thus distilled for thee 
 Before man entered Eden's blessed abode? 
 And men, inspired by God, did weigh thy worth, 
 And in no less than twenty sacred books, 
 Thou'rt called to mind, itself enough to show 
 Thou art no mean, created thing of earth. 
 If it were not for thy instinctive powers, 
 The ambrosial tears which flowers shed 
 Were lost in vapor on the passing breeze. 
 How little is thy nature understood 
 Except by those who know thy sterling worth, 
 And who delight in contemplating thee. 
 Thy waxen cells, are built so thin and true, 
 That human artisans may well confess 
 Their genius cannot rival thy great art ; 
 And yet thou art a mystery to those 
 Who little dream an insect can be great. 
 Within the compass of but one half inch, 
 Man finds stored up much wisdom to be learned, 
 And when with pompous pride he scans himself, 
 He sees how small he is compared with thee. 
 If but thy one half inch of insect life 
 Possesses worth before which poets bow, 
 58 
 
And pause to sing thy praise with loudest strain, 
 How weak and dwarfish seems man's intellect, 
 When inch by inch we place him by thy side. 
 Man boasts of but a single pair of eyes, 
 While thine consists of thousands all in one, 
 A compound eye composed of many sights, 
 And each one like thy gauzy cells is formed, 
 So that the pattern of the comb thou hast 
 Within thy eye, to guide thy daily toil. 
 Wondrous art thou ! and had I but the space, 
 I could reveal so many facts, that men 
 Would grow incredulous, and count me mad. 
 But God hath made thee great, and few men 
 
 know 
 The science of thy structure, nor thy skill. 
 But now, farewell, thou sweetest of all friends ! 
 Thou sunbeam ! flitting o'er the path of man 
 As waft the breezes o'er the arid waste, 
 Farewell to thee, sweet hummer, fare thee well ! 
 
 I THINK OF THEE 
 In Memory of my Dear Friend C. L. R. 
 
 I THINK of thee! 
 Whene'er the golden sunset turns to gray, 
 And blending with the twilight seals the day, 
 I think of thee whose form lies cold and still, 
 Beneath the turf where all is dark and chill. 
 59 
 
I think of thee ! 
 My faithful friend, my mem'ry never dies, 
 But oftentimes it rests, or dormant lies, 
 Still in my heart are thy virtues cherished, 
 Yet 'tis true thy mortal form has perished. 
 
 I think of thee ! 
 At midnight hour when vainly courting sleep, 
 From out my heart's long treasured hoard will 
 
 creep, 
 Thy name and image, to mem'ry's portal, 
 And I see thee in thy robes immortal. 
 
 I think of thee ! 
 I weigh within my mind thy sterling worth, 
 When thou didst linger with us here on earth, 
 And when I think of thy immortal mind, 
 I know thou art not in death's chains confined. 
 
 I think of thee ! 
 Dear friend, God gave to thee a noble soul, 
 And made thee true as needle to the pole. 
 Thy life was clean and pure as evening dew, 
 Thy friendship firm and every impulse true. 
 
 I think of thee ! 
 When last I saw thee in thy happy home, 
 From which thou very seldom cared to roam, 
 I felt the dread death angel lingered near, 
 And thou must leave thy loved ones ever dear. 
 60 
 
I think of thee ! 
 In mercy Christ then smiled, thy form to save 
 From racking pain, ere thou became its slave, 
 When suddenly the angel snapped the chain 
 That bound thy soul to earth, thine was the gain. 
 
 I think of thee ! 
 When in my country home the message came, 
 That told me thou wert gone to heav'nly fame, 
 My soul was torn, and dropped the burning tear, 
 Although with thee 'twas well, thy God was near. 
 
 I think of thee ! 
 When at the last, last hour sad friends drew 
 
 near, 
 And I too ill to mourn beside thy bier, 
 I breathed a prayer for thee from heart of love, 
 Which zephyrs wafted to the throne above. 
 
 I think of thee ! 
 If from thy starry home where rests thy crown, 
 God doth permit His creatures to look down, 
 O let me crave one loving glance from thee 
 And in thy joy, blest friend, think thou of me. 
 
 61 
 
THE POLITICIAN'S FATE 
 
 A PILGRIM paused at heaven's gate, 
 To take a needed rest, 
 He'd journeyed far from earth below, 
 
 To make a strange request. 
 On his lone way he'd swiftly passed 
 
 Bright stars of brilliant hue, 
 He halted not to visit them, 
 But bid them all adieu. 
 
 He'd plunged through space at fearful rate, 
 
 As if an imp pursued him, 
 His conscience gave him little peace, 
 
 Tormenting thoughts imbued him. 
 At last he reached the outer court, 
 
 And heaven's resplendent portal, 
 His shriveled soul was all 'twas left 
 
 Of what was once a mortal. 
 
 He gazed upon the jeweled walls, 
 
 That towered into space, 
 And viewed the gates of virgin gold, 
 
 That glistened in their place. 
 He rapped aloud for entrance there, 
 
 And mercy to implore, 
 The gates swung back, and Peter stood 
 
 And eyed him o'er and o'er. 
 62 
 
" Ah ! who are you ? " the saint now asked, 
 
 " And what your mission here ? 
 You look like one who's been condemned." 
 
 He said, with look austere. 
 " We record have of all the souls 
 
 Incased in mortal clay, 
 But we will give each one a chance, 
 
 To explain his guilt away." 
 
 The culprit stood with eyes cast down, 
 
 , And trembled like a leaf, 
 
 He lacked for words to plead his cause, 
 
 Or give his mind relief. 
 At last his courage gathered strength, 
 
 He looked in Peter's eyes, 
 And to both questions which were asked, 
 
 He made his brief replies. 
 
 " I'm from the earth, you have my name, 
 
 A classic one you know, 
 I gave my time to politics, 
 
 A thriving trade below. 
 I was the only thrifty one 
 
 Of politicians there, 
 And when I died I left the earth 
 
 A multi-millionaire. 
 
 " You ask what is my mission here? 
 
 I'll tell you in a trice ; 
 The devil holds a mortgage large, 
 
 And I thought you had a price. 
 
 63 
 
To use your saintly influence 
 
 With this satanic lord, 
 And stay his imps from claiming me, 
 
 And cancel your record. 
 
 If you will grant my small request, 
 
 My spirit you'll console. 
 I'll be your meek submissive slave, 
 
 And purge from sin my soul. 
 Have pity on a helpless one, 
 
 Who repents his erring way, 
 And mercy show to him who sues, 
 
 A pardon now convey. 
 
 With frowning brow good Peter spoke, 
 
 Contempt was in his tone, 
 He burned with indignation's fire, 
 
 And bitter scorn was shown. 
 " Vile wretch ! " he cried, " the devil knows 
 
 Full well your moral worth, 
 And we in heaven your value knew 
 
 The moment of your birth. 
 
 Within the confines of this home 
 
 We have a volume rare, 
 And every act you did on earth, 
 
 We keep recorded there. 
 And this, with your own memory, 
 
 Serves to condemn or save, 
 And from this record you are judged, 
 
 You wicked, craven knave. 
 
 6 4 
 
Begone ! depraved corrupter bold, 
 
 These portals you'll ne'er cross ; 
 Your boasted gold, unjustly gained, 
 
 Has all turned into dross. 
 The gates of mercy here are closed, 
 
 Your repentance comes too late, 
 The devil waits to give to you 
 
 The politician's fate. 
 
 We judge you here for what you've done, 
 
 (Your doom you must foreknow) 
 Then pass you to his majesty, 
 
 Who'll grill you down below. 
 And in the darkest corner chained, 
 
 A convict you will be; 
 Remorse and shame will be your lot 
 
 Through all eternity." 
 
 Now just a word of kind advice 
 
 To politicians all: 
 When you are sent to pass our laws 
 
 In legislative hall, 
 Let honor be your guiding star, 
 
 Your manhood never sell, 
 And brand with scorn the knave who'd pave 
 
 Your downward course to hell. 
 
 65 
 
A FATHER'S LAMENT 
 
 THOU art gone from me now, and sharp the 
 pain 
 Of my earthly loss, but thy heavenly gain. 
 The dread death angel, ruthless to the last, 
 With thickest gloom my life has overcast ; 
 He gave slight warning of his deathly craft, 
 But to thy heart he sped his quivering shaft ; 
 Then smiled he at the battle he had fought, 
 And gloated o'er the ruin he had wrought. 
 But He who rules this universe with love, 
 From His white throne in yon bright sphere 
 
 above, 
 To my sad heart these gladsome tidings bring — 
 " Graves know no victory, death hath no sting." 
 And then my soul with joyous raptures thrill — 
 Though thou art gone, I know thou livest still. 
 For they do err who claim that death ends all, 
 Or think that He who notes a sparrow's fall, 
 Would make us in His image, most divine, 
 Then leave us to our fate to end with time. 
 Ah, no ! from out thy noble form of clay, 
 Thy spirit took its flight to endless day. 
 And like the stars that grace the dome of night, 
 Or roseate clouds that kiss the morning light, 
 Thou dost shine and glisten in thy robes so pure, 
 That angels only can the light endure. 
 66 
 
But thou art gone, and yet thou art not dead, 
 Though dust to dust we made thy earthly bed, 
 Still in the silent vigils of the night, 
 Thy spirit hovers near in fond delight, 
 And pictures to my soul such scenes of bliss, 
 I fain would go and leave a world like this. 
 O why did He who doeth all things well, 
 Call thee so soon in yonder clime to dwell? 
 Why recall the gift that came from Him above, 
 To fill our hearts with pure empyreal love ? 
 Why send the reaper in the silent night, 
 To gather grain ere yet 'tis fully ripe ? 
 Why not take me whose life is in the sear? 
 Not crush my soul with grief then leave me here. 
 Still, we pluck the rose when bursting into bloom, 
 Not wait until it has no sweet perfume. 
 Whose blushing petals kissed by dews of heaven, 
 We prize the most, like angel's smiles, when 
 
 given. 
 Perhaps 'tis so with God, who seeks a gem 
 To sparkle in His royal diadem. 
 But I'll not murmur, though woe's cup shall fill, 
 I'll bow submissive to His sovereign will. 
 And when my earthly task, at last, is done, 
 I'll wing my flight to realms beyond the sun, 
 And soul to soul responsive, we'll meet there, 
 In joy ecstatic angels fain would share. 
 
 6 7 
 
THE MISER 
 
 HE gloats o'er wealth of hoarded gold, 
 Nor cares he how he gained it all, 
 He little recks for honor sold, 
 
 He bows to it a servile thrall; 
 He does not think, and cares far less 
 
 About the poor confiding soul, 
 Who trusted him, without redress, 
 Then died a wreck on life's dark shoal. 
 
 His stocks and bonds his only god; 
 
 He worships at this gilded shrine, 
 And bows submissive to the rod 
 
 That mammon wields with power condign. 
 Mark ! how he feasts his greedy eyes 
 
 On dollars wrung from some poor heart 
 Like drops of blood, that will arise 
 
 To haunt his life of crafty art. 
 
 No noble impulse has he left, 
 
 His conscience now is seared and dead ; 
 Of godliness he is bereft, 
 
 To selfish greed his life is wed. 
 To help the poor his soul detests, 
 
 For they to him are simply clods, 
 His coffers are his only guests, 
 
 And heartlessness the path he trods. 
 68 
 
O wretched man ! the hour draws near 
 
 When all your wealth will be a loss, 
 Before God's throne, in abject fear, 
 
 You'll stand, and know that 'tis but dross. 
 But could you take it when you go, 
 
 You'd find 'twould pave your downward 
 course, 
 Then it would melt as melts the snow, 
 
 To feed hell's flames of your remorse. 
 
 THE STARS 
 
 NIGHT is but a sable background upon which 
 the angels have woven a web of diamonds, 
 which shimmer in a galaxy of glory, and sparkle 
 in the beauty of a fathomless space, like lamps 
 that blaze and burn, and wasting not they are 
 eternal in their splendor. They are sublime and 
 voiceless sentinels, keeping a jealous vigil over 
 the portals of heaven, clothed in beams of silvery 
 grandeur. 
 
 The radiant lights that shimmer above, 
 Are tears that the angels have shed for love ; 
 They dropped into space through ether afar, 
 And froze into gems in the form of a star. 
 
 69 
 
MY MOTHER 
 
 WHEN Nature spreads her sable robe, 
 Bespangled with yon starry host, 
 Around a quiet, pulseless world, 
 Whose busy scenes have all been hushed — 
 Adown the vista of the past, 
 My restless thoughts will take me back 
 To childhood's days, when I was taught 
 To lisp thy name, O mother dear ! 
 And breathe the prayer thy lips did speak. 
 As I retrace the path of time 
 When " mother " first escaped my lips, 
 Through boyhood's days, when all was joy, 
 And budding youth was not disturbed 
 By anxious cares and troubled thoughts, 
 To manhood's rough and rugged course, 
 Amidst the sterner scenes of life, 
 'Tis then I feel my earthly loss, 
 Although I'm sure thy heavenly gain. 
 Since thou art gone, I know thy worth, 
 And could I gaze upon thy form 
 
 mother dear ! and speak to thee, 
 Or hear thy tender, gentle voice, 
 
 As in the days long since gone by — 
 Could I but see thy radiant smile, 
 So winsome on thy pallid face, 
 
 1 know my cup of bliss would fill, 
 And trials that beset my path 
 
 70 
 
Would vanish quickly far away. 
 But scarcely can I wish thee back 
 Amidst the clouds and storms of earth, 
 For ere our life grows old in years, 
 The evening shades draw round our steps, 
 And earth's career is closed forever. 
 On memory's well -traced page I find 
 Some scenes, which take me back again 
 To thy last night upon this earth. 
 And as I scanned thy peaceful face, 
 Thy smile of love spoke back to mine, 
 And reading quick my inmost thought, 
 Thou didst reply that " all was well." 
 And then, as trustingly resigned, 
 While hovering on the borderland, 
 Thy spirit heard thy Saviour's voice 
 Inviting thee to heavenly climes. 
 In fancy's dream I saw thee pass 
 The valley of the shadow, thrown 
 By death's dark form, and then speed on, 
 Surrounded by angelic forms, 
 And guided by seraphic hands, 
 As swifter than the rosy beams 
 That kiss the morning when it dawns, 
 Thou passed, with joy, to yonder home, 
 As thou didst near those op'ning gates, 
 Methought I saw thee turn and cast 
 One loving, hopeful, lingering look 
 At me, with smile that seemed ecstatic. 
 Entranced, I stood and gazed upon 
 7i 
 
Thy resplendent form immortal. 
 Then through yon pearly gates so pure, 
 Which glisten midst the roseate clouds, 
 That hover round the great white throne, 
 Thou passed, and angels sang for joy. 
 
 Oh, sight sublime ! I then beheld, 
 Far through the radiant distance, 
 Beside the sea with waves of pearl, 
 Whose golden shore with praises rang, 
 The angels weave their garlands bright, 
 And crown thee with their wreath of love, 
 And thee lead on with joyous shout, 
 To endless life, and bliss and peace. 
 
 TO MY YOUNGEST SON 
 
 (An Acrostic) 
 
 BEYOND this bright and joyous life 
 Exists one of renown, 
 For thee, this world holds much in store, 
 And there awaits thy crown ; 
 In this brief life thou must store up 
 The jewels for thy crest, 
 Heaven awaits thy garnered gems, 
 From life extract the best ; 
 Unite the virtues all in one, 
 Love, and thy life is blest. 
 72 
 
THE DEAR OLD HOMESTEAD 
 
 I RECALL the dear old homestead, 
 Built a hundred years or more, 
 And its charm still lingers with me, 
 
 Fixed in mem'ry evermore. 
 O what hours of joy and pleasure, 
 
 I have spent within that home, 
 Where the walls so oft resounded 
 With my songs, from base to dome. 
 
 I, too, recall the deep old well, 
 
 That beside the highway stood, 
 From which the oaken bucket hung 
 
 On pole of hickory wood. 
 The old Dutch barn with peaked roof, 
 
 With timbers twelve by twenty-four, 
 And pinned together with great pegs, 
 
 And shingles three feet long, or more. 
 
 The heavy clapboards hewed by hand, 
 
 And nails wrought out by brawny arm, 
 Inclosed a space of many rods, 
 
 Filled with products from the farm. 
 Then the row of giant maples, 
 
 'Neath whose shade I loved to stand, 
 And the dear old apple orchard 
 
 Made a picture truly grand. 
 73 
 
By the hearthstone in the homestead, 
 
 Dear old homestead far away ! 
 We would gather in the twilight, 
 
 At the close of every day. 
 All our weary work was over, 
 
 And the sun-glow in the West, 
 Smiled its farewell to us sadly, 
 
 As it slowly sank to rest. 
 
 Father, with his pipe was smoking, 
 
 And the smoke as incense curled, 
 For it wreathed above his white hair, 
 
 Like a halo flag unfurled. 
 Sweet contentment was his portion, 
 
 Showed a mind of peace and rest, 
 And a smile played o'er his features, 
 
 Lingered there a welcome guest. 
 
 Mother, with her pallid features, 
 
 Sat within her old arm chair, 
 With her hand pressed to her forehead, 
 
 Easing pain that oft lurked there. 
 Dear old mother ! I can see her 
 
 With bowed head upon her hand, 
 Patient, meek and uncomplaining, 
 
 With submission, Christly grand. 
 
 Father, mother and our sisters, 
 Made the circle all complete, 
 
 For the brothers, too, were seated 
 In that compass of retreat. 
 74 
 
There we sat and watched the oak log, 
 As it blazed its warmth and cheer, 
 
 Each heart glad the day was ended, 
 For this hour to us was dear. 
 
 Spread upon a cherry table 
 
 Was a cover pure and white, 
 And the viands resting on it 
 
 Furnished us a pleasant sight. 
 Crullers and a dish of parched corn, 
 
 Cider sweet and apples fair, 
 And a mince pie, hot and steaming, 
 
 Whose aroma filled the air. 
 
 I still see that group in fancy, 
 
 Each as happy as a king, 
 Hearts as light as evening zephyr, 
 
 Joyous as a bird on wing. 
 O, those hours were all too fleeting, 
 
 For our souls were upward drawn 
 By the magnet of communion, 
 
 Bright and pure as heav'enly dawn. 
 
 From the chain no links were missing, 
 
 Death had passed us on his way, 
 And we knew not grief or sorrow, 
 
 Joy and gladness had their sway. 
 Thus we sat in joyous conclave, 
 
 And communed as heart to heart, 
 Till the fleeting hours warned us 
 
 That 'twas time for us to part. 
 75 
 
Then our father read a chapter, 
 
 And made comments as he read ; 
 Sweetest peace sat brooding o'er us — 
 
 Peace that came from light he shed. 
 Then he knelt to offer homage 
 
 To the King of kings above. 
 And gave thanks for all the blessings 
 
 That He sent through sovereign love. 
 
 Good nights said, we sought our chambers, 
 
 Glad to rest our weary forms, 
 Grateful that we had much shelter 
 
 From the cold and from the storm. 
 Soon each soul was wrapped in slumber, 
 
 Peace and quiet reigned supreme, 
 Naught disturbed the quiet sleepers, 
 
 For each life was then a dream. 
 
 Farewell homestead! we have parted, 
 
 Some are scattered far and wide, 
 Others sleep, while some live near thee, 
 
 Still thy charms with us abide. 
 Fare thee well ! thou nest of childhood, 
 
 Sanctuary of our joys, 
 Sweetest mem'ry lingers with us, 
 
 For we're older girls and boys. 
 
 Farewell now, and farewell ever, 
 Dearest spot on earth we feel, 
 
 Thou art treasured in our mem'ry, 
 Thou the shrine at which we kneel. 
 
 7 6 
 
Soon we'll find a haven elsewhere, 
 
 Reunited as of yore, 
 There to dwell with chain unbroken, 
 
 On yon everlasting shore. 
 
 WHAT CONSTITUTES NOBILITY? 
 
 WHO is the true aristocrat, the favored of 
 the land? 
 What constitutes nobility, and what the noble- 
 man? 
 Does untold wealth in stocks and bonds, and 
 acres broad and grand 
 Reflect the true aristocrat, and make the noble- 
 man? 
 
 Does he who struts with pompous pride, assumes 
 a lordly air, 
 Bear stamp of true nobility, a leader of the 
 clan? 
 Or he who dwells palatially, bedecked with 
 jewels rare? 
 Far humbler must the person be to make a 
 nobleman. 
 
 Is't he who takes advantage of a brother in dis- 
 tress ? 
 Exacts his ill-gained " pound of flesh," that he. 
 may drive his span, 
 
 77 
 
Arrayed in tinseled livery, and groom in gaudy 
 dress ? 
 Can such a withered soul as he be classed a 
 nobleman ? 
 
 Is't he who bears a title, though empty it may be, 
 And who is dubbed a lord or duke, a scion of 
 a clan 
 That boasts of deeds of valor, and claims no- 
 bility, 
 But whose vile life serves to belie that of a 
 gentleman ? 
 
 Then who must be the standard man, the type of 
 heav'nly grace? 
 Is't he whose ships bear cargoes rich across 
 the ocean span? 
 Or he whose sole ambition is to rule the human 
 race, 
 And conquer nations of the earth, and slay his 
 brother man? 
 
 No, 'tis he who trains himself to notice worthier 
 things, 
 That others spurn with scorn as far beneath 
 their selfish plan, 
 The one whose heart delights in the wealth of 
 heaven it brings 
 To be measured by his soul, immortal part of 
 man. 
 
 78 
 
Tis he whose sympathies are great, who seeks to 
 aid the poor, 
 Whose self comes last in deeds of love, who 
 does not scheme and plan 
 To blow his trumpet to the world, and thus make 
 doubly sure 
 His deeds are heralded abroad, such is the 
 nobleman. 
 
 'Tis he who wipes the pain-born tear from off 
 the infant cheek, 
 Who soothes its little troubled soul, and enters 
 in its plan 
 Of childish glee and merriment ; these surely all 
 bespeak 
 A soul of true nobility, and mark the noble- 
 man. 
 
 'Tis he who like the diamond is, his lot though 
 humbly cast, 
 Far rather than the worthless one who lives 
 for self alone, 
 Whose life reflects the precious stone, and 
 sparkles to the last, 
 And thus excels the selfish soul though placed 
 upon a throne. 
 
 'Tis he who speaks a kindly word in gentleness 
 and love, 
 And helps relieve a burdened soul, or cheers a 
 brother man 
 
 79 
 
Whose heart is well-nigh crushed with grief, and 
 points the way above, 
 Where sits enthroned nobility, with Christ the 
 nobleman. 
 
 THE DEATH ANGEL 
 
 LIKE the leaves of the tree I am fading, 
 Time's tide is fast ebbing away, 
 The pathway of my life death is shading, 
 
 And his march will brook no delay. 
 He was warned and has signalled unto me, 
 
 To his mandate all mortals must yield, 
 Like the frost to the flower he will blast me, 
 I've no power against him to wield. 
 
 I will meet his advance without shrinking, 
 
 And when he shall sever this tie, 
 The dart that he hurls will be linking, 
 
 This life with a nobler on high. 
 So I fear not though shadows may thicken, 
 
 And his stride be nearing each day, 
 For his blow will serve only to quicken 
 
 My triumph o'er this bondage of clay. 
 
 80 
 
THE DUTCHMAN'S GREETING 
 At an Annual Dinner, January 7, 1904 
 
 TRUE to his craft, the all-conquering King of 
 Time 
 Hath slain another year, now buried in the 
 past; 
 His onward march respects not age, nor man- 
 hood's prime, 
 And on the rocky shore of time his wrecks are 
 cast. 
 
 While we must mourn beside the past's lamented 
 bier, 
 And sadly shroud our thoughts in mem'ries of 
 regret, 
 We must, likewise, rejoice that friends we love 
 are here, 
 Each a living gem, in which a noble soul is set. 
 
 One year ago to-night around this festive board, 
 Eight jolly boys exultant stood where we now 
 stand, 
 And from their loyal hearts poured forth their 
 treasured hoard 
 Of friendship's tested love, sealed by some 
 magic hand. 
 
 81 
 
True friendship is a jewel of so rare a name, 
 That when 'tis found we fain would keep it 
 ever ; 
 
 And he is rich indeed who doth possess the same : 
 If wisdom fail him not he'll sacrifice it never. 
 
 With joy I bid you welcome to this natal feast ; 
 From my heart of hearts each guest is greeted 
 duly; 
 And ere the rays of blushing dawn shall tint the 
 East, 
 Let us pledge sweet friendship to each other 
 truly. 
 
 I WALKED IN THE SILENCE 
 
 I MUSED as I walked in the woodland, 
 On a carpet of green 'neath the trees, 
 I heard not a sound in the silence, 
 
 Except the soft murmuring breeze. 
 The inmates all slumbered in quiet, 
 
 The twilight had lured them to rest, 
 The sun in his glory was sinking, 
 And gilding the clouds in the West. 
 
 I loved the deep silence of nature, 
 
 I courted her various moods, 
 She spoke to my soul a new language, 
 
 I envied her grand solitudes. 
 82 
 
I worshipped my God through her beauty, 
 For my thoughts ascended on high, 
 
 And I loved her marvelous grandeur, 
 The softest blue tint of her sky. 
 
 I had walked life's path with the human, 
 
 Till my soul was sick of its strife, 
 And I longed for something more perfect, 
 
 Ideal of a grander life. 
 I craved the sweet quiet of nature, 
 
 Would escape the world and its din, 
 I found all were selfish and grasping, 
 
 And few mortals were true therein. 
 
 I'd met men of lofty professions, 
 
 Both humble and proud I had known, 
 I had bowed at the shrine of beauty, 
 
 Had listened to misery's groan. 
 Some preachers of Christ I had courted, 
 
 And my friendship ripened and grew, 
 But the scales soon fell from my eyelids, 
 
 For I found them false and untrue. 
 
 I'd subscribed to society's creed, 
 
 But not as an impotent thrall, 
 I soon found it a dazzling sham, 
 
 With a heart of ashes and gall. 
 Ostentation and glitter and show, 
 
 Were its sole ambition and toil, 
 And the fruit it produced was unreal, 
 
 For it grew in sin fertilized soil. 
 
 83 
 
My faith had been shaken and shattered, 
 
 Till my soul grew dizzy and faint, 
 And I pined for a glimpse of heaven, 
 
 With the true that sin cannot taint. 
 I longed for the peace of its music, 
 
 And the gushing fountains of love, 
 For the voice that speaketh the " well done," 
 
 The glorious grandeur above. 
 
 So I wandered on in the silence, 
 
 And communed with nature and God, 
 Still seeking the true and the perfect, 
 
 Made so by His chastening rod. 
 I mused as I walked in the stillness, 
 
 I felt I was not there alone, 
 A voice whispered softly unto me, 
 
 Like a zephyr, so gentle its tone. 
 
 I paused in the gathering twilight, 
 
 And listened to the unseen guest, 
 Who communed with my soul as gently, 
 
 As a mother lulls her child to rest. 
 Sweet peace all my being pervaded, 
 
 As the voice spoke unto my soul, 
 It drew me from out the deep silence, 
 
 With a force I could not control. 
 
 The voice led me out of the woodland, 
 
 To a mountain that stood alone, 
 And a sheen of glory prismatic, 
 
 Converted it into a throne. 
 
 8 4 
 
Then the voice whispered once more sweetly, 
 Which the stars echoed everywhere, 
 
 It said, " Seek the eons of heaven, 
 Perfection exists only there." 
 
 LINES TO AN UNFAITHFUL FRIEND 
 Dedicated to my former Pastor 
 
 MY friend thou wert, now all is o'er, 
 Something hath lured thy love away ; 
 And thou hast left me wounded sore, 
 
 And friendship's blossom doth decay. 
 How sad the thought my joy is cast 
 
 Relentless on the waves of time ! 
 O, that the future, as the past, 
 
 Might beam with happiness sublime ! 
 
 God knows how loyal I have been ; 
 
 And how this cloud I would dispel : 
 For if there be unselfish sin, 
 
 'Twas mine in loving thee too well. 
 O why hast thou by act and word 
 
 Pierced my true heart with cruel thrust? 
 Why still the song of Love's sweet bird, 
 
 And trail its plumage in the dust? 
 
 85 
 
Thy vows have proven insincere, 
 
 For thou hast failed to stand the test, 
 
 Though oft repeated year by year, 
 
 Thou'st turned from one who loved thee best. 
 
 why didst thou with glittering chain 
 Bind close my trusting heart to thee, 
 
 Then dim its luster with a stain, 
 And show its tarnished links to me ? 
 
 Wear now the laurel on thy brow, 
 
 And let thy thoughts be proudly high! 
 Thy wreath and cherished joy, I trow, 
 
 Will turn to ashes by and by. 
 Within my heart the flowers that grew, 
 
 And filled with fragrance every pore, 
 Have faded all and passed from view, 
 
 And bloom for thee, alas ! no more. 
 
 1 know I've been thy faithful friend, 
 And in thy word did once confide, 
 
 And yet there came the bitter end 
 
 When vital love was crucified. 
 In dust my shattered idol lies, 
 
 Its winning form is marred and prone; 
 Nor can it evermore arise, 
 
 To sway its scepter on its throne. 
 
 I now implore thee to forego 
 
 Counsel that guides thee in false steps, 
 For like the ocean's undertow, 
 
 'Twill sweep thee to destruction's depths. 
 86 
 
May God's good angel guide thy way, 
 And keep thee from deceitful friends; 
 
 From those who'd lead thee far astray, 
 And use thee for unworthy ends. 
 
 Though this my wish, the die is cast, 
 
 And I must mourn at friendship's bier ; 
 I pray thee ne'er shall feel the asp 
 
 Whose fangs doth force the burning tear ; 
 I leave thy conscience with thy God 
 
 Who motive knows, and heart doth see, 
 And when I sleep beneath the sod, 
 
 Thou'lt know how true I've been to thee. 
 
 THOU ART GONE 
 In memory of my beloved friend Rev. Dr. J. R. 
 
 AH, dear friend, I could not believe, 
 That thou wert lying dead, 
 And yet I gazed upon thy face, 
 From which the rose had fled. 
 When last we met I little knew, 
 
 That ere another day, 
 Death would seal thy noble form, 
 And waft thy soul away. 
 
 87 
 
'Twas hard to know thy life ebbed out, 
 
 Upon the tide of time, 
 And helpless be to stay the hand, 
 
 That smote thee in thy prime. 
 No thrill of pity woke within 
 
 The dread death angel's breast, 
 But thy pure soul he could not kill, 
 
 Thou dearest friend, and best. 
 
 The roses that perfume the vase, 
 
 Which their bright petals fill, 
 Although removed, will leave behind 
 
 Their sweet aroma still. 
 And so 'twill be with thee, dear friend, 
 
 Since thou hast passed away, 
 The glory of thy life will be 
 
 My guiding star alway. 
 
 Thou'lt be to me like brilliant spark 
 
 In yonder azure dome, 
 Thy soul will shine resplendently, 
 
 In yon seraphic home. 
 Thy robes immortal white will be, 
 
 Like those the angels wear, 
 Thy intellect will flash its gems 
 
 Of light, beyond compare. 
 
 Our friendship, like the voiceless stars, 
 Was bright, and true, and pure, 
 
 And like the gems in heaven's crown, 
 'Twill evermore endure. 
 
And though thy form shall soulless lie 
 
 For ages in the tomb, 
 The halo of thy love will light 
 
 Its everlasting gloom. 
 
 Farewell, dear friend ! 'twas hard to part, 
 
 But death will have no sting, 
 For thy blest soul has passed the gates, 
 
 Where radiant angels sing. 
 Ere long I'll tread the starry path 
 
 Thy spirit did pursue; 
 We'll meet within that mystic clime — 
 
 'Till then, dear friend, adieu. 
 
 KINDNESS COSTS BUT LITTLE 
 
 KINDNESS costs but little, 
 But, oh, what rays of light 
 It sheds o'er aching souls, 
 
 Who feel the cold world's slight. 
 A word but gently spoken, 
 
 Or a look both soft and mild, 
 Will prove a welcome token, 
 To many a wayward child. 
 
 Kind acts are but trifles 
 Extracted from our store; 
 
 Let us make the effort 
 To part with many more. 
 
 8 9 
 
This world is full of sadness, 
 Because there is lack of love; 
 
 Let's shed the God-like gladness, 
 We receive from Him above. 
 
 Kindly words are a balm, 
 
 Assuaging grief and pain. 
 They drive dark clouds away, 
 
 Make blue the sky again. 
 Let us bid our pride give way, 
 
 We must act the nobler part, 
 And we'll find it doth repay 
 
 To lift a burden, cheer a heart. 
 
 A kind act never dies, 
 
 'Twill live when man's no more ; 
 It is the bud of love, 
 
 And blooms on yonder shore. 
 If our brother sinks down low, 
 
 Do not push him further still, 
 Do not let our hands be slow 
 
 Again, to help him up the hill. 
 
 A child may suffer grief, 
 
 Its life be dark and drear, 
 But sunshine we can shed, 
 
 By speaking words of cheer ; 
 Let us not lie down at night, 
 
 Without making some one glad; 
 Let us make the world more bright, 
 
 To weary souls who are sad. 
 90 
 
A friend in time of need, 
 
 By acting well his part, 
 Can lift a heavy load, 
 
 And cheer a burdened heart. 
 Selfishness must banished be; 
 
 We must love our brother more, 
 Faith, grace, and charity 
 
 Must be ours forevermore. 
 
 Kindness costs but little, 
 
 Oh help thy brother rise, 
 For often he may prove, 
 
 An angel in disguise. 
 Not for self, for others live, 
 
 Our's the type in Him above, 
 He hath taught us how to give, 
 
 Yea, His life He gave for love. 
 
 TO THE WAVES 
 
 SING on thou billows of the briny deep, 
 And seal my wakeful eyes in blissful sleep, 
 In thy watery cradle rock and sway 
 Fanned by breezes that o'er thy white crests play. 
 
 Like white foamed steeds upon the sandy beach, 
 Prancing as far as thy swift pace will reach, 
 Thou dost reverse upon the beaten track, 
 And sweep in grandeur to old ocean back. 
 9i 
 
ACCOMPANYING A GIFT 
 
 JUST a little spark of love, 
 Just a beam of bright sunshine, 
 Just a ray from Him above, 
 
 Flashed through me to heart of thine. 
 
 N 
 
 A THOUGHT 
 
 OT all earth's gems twined in a wreath 
 Are worth one tear that springs from grief, 
 For it is born of love. 
 
 ON THE FLY LEAF OF A BOOK TO A 
 FRIEND 
 
 UPON this page so spotless and so pure, 
 I trace my name both humble and obscure ; 
 But on thy heart, and in thy mind, I dare 
 To wish that it might be engraven there. 
 
 92 
 
THE WANING NIGHT 
 
 ON the tide of Time's ocean night silently 
 rides, 
 It is ebbing out swiftly, its loss we shall feel, 
 And soon in the past it will slumber for ages, 
 And eternity's secrets 'twill never reveal. 
 
 While the fast fleeting hours bid adieu to the 
 night, 
 They will rob the dark sky of its silvery bright 
 eyes, 
 And the maid of the morn, with her rosy red 
 cheeks, 
 Will draw back the curtain as the stars leave 
 the skies. 
 
 She will linger a while in her beauteous robes 
 Of bright crimson and gold, of pale lemon and 
 gray, 
 Which the blush of the sun, as he mounts in the 
 East, 
 Will pin around her form as she kisses the day. 
 
 As the luminous orb soars higher and higher, 
 Her beauty will vanish as she fades from our 
 sight ; 
 She will shine like a beacon in the mellowing 
 glow, 
 Then her charms so resplendent, will blend 
 with the light. 
 
 93 
 
Fare thee well, waning night, as you pass from 
 
 our view, 
 And lose the bright jewels from your rare 
 
 diadem : 
 Fare thee well, sable queen, we will watch the 
 
 faint tint 
 That lingers and flickers on the face of each 
 
 gem. 
 
 YOUTHFUL FOLLY 
 
 I SAW her in the country, 
 On a bright summer day, 
 With majestic pride she sailed 
 
 A hundred yards away; 
 I trailed along behind her, 
 
 But did not cross her bow — 
 I thought she was a goddess, 
 But do not tell my f rau. 
 
 I craved a brief flirtation, 
 
 And thought this was my chance, 
 Though a young and married man, 
 
 But not a gay, free lance ; 
 I thought she was a brunette, 
 
 And this you will allow, 
 When the sequel you have heard, 
 
 But do not tell my frau. 
 94 
 
 
I let imagination work, 
 
 And quickened up my pace, 
 A veil concealed her features, 
 
 I could not see her face ; 
 I thought her eyes were jewels, 
 
 Ah, how they haunt me now, 
 Her smile must be like heaven, 
 
 But do not tell my frau. 
 
 Her hair was like a raven, 
 
 And crowned her shapely head, 
 Her ruddy-like complexion, 
 
 I thought was tinted red; 
 I thought her lashes sweeping, 
 
 Beneath her stately brow, 
 Each roseate cheek was dimpled, 
 
 But do not tell my frau. 
 
 Of course her nose was Grecian, 
 
 Cherubic lips beneath, 
 Which curved like cupid's love bow, 
 
 And showed her pearly teeth; 
 Her chin divinely molded, 
 
 Such as the gods avow 
 Marks a form of noble birth, 
 
 But do not tell my frau. 
 
 The robe upon this goddess, 
 
 Of a canary hue, 
 Gave her the charm of heaven, 
 
 And all its graces too ; 
 95 
 
She strode as if expectant, 
 
 And gave a friendly bow, 
 Then my heart began to thrill, 
 
 But do not tell my frau. 
 
 I quickly stepped beside her, 
 
 And doffed my light chapeau, 
 And I wished that we might pass 
 
 Beneath the mistletoe; 
 I heard her laugh as softly, 
 
 As zephyrs fan the bough, 
 Then I beamed my sweetest smile, 
 
 But do not tell my frau. 
 
 We chatted on together, 
 
 My feelings all intense, 
 Suddenly I met a friend, 
 
 Who stopped at my expense; 
 With true deliberation, 
 
 She raised her veil to bow, 
 Heavens ! she was black as night, 
 
 But do not tell my frau. 
 
 She bowed with stately grandeur, 
 
 And said — " Good morning, gents," 
 My heart was quickly pulsing, 
 
 My friend was all suspense; 
 She passed along with ringing laugh, 
 
 And I can hear her now, 
 My friend declared " 'twas one on me, 
 
 But he'd tell my frau. 
 
 9 6 
 
A TRIBUTE TO OUR LITTLE JIM 
 A Thoroughbred Dog 
 
 MOST merciful we were to Jim, 
 God gave for us to use, 
 He was our true and faithful friend, 
 
 To love but not abuse. 
 Though dumb, he spoke in silent tones, 
 
 A language with his eyes, 
 And when we spoke he gladly gave 
 His tail wag for replies. 
 
 We never had a truer friend, 
 
 For a companion here, 
 And if rebuked he closer clung, 
 
 And love allayed his fear. 
 None was more constant than our Jim 
 
 Who served us to the end, 
 When man was faithless unto man, 
 
 He proved a faithful friend. 
 
 As trained his instinct often seemed 
 
 Akin to human mind, 
 And he displayed a thinking force 
 
 Much like the human kind. 
 He was most gentle, true as steel, 
 
 Our trust he'd not betray, 
 He, a guardian stern at night, 
 
 Would romp with us by day. 
 97 
 
He scented danger from afar, 
 
 And gave a warning cry, 
 He'd then defend us with his life, 
 
 And every foe defy. 
 He asked not for expensive fare, 
 
 Contented with a bone, 
 He'd frisk and show more happiness 
 
 Than king upon his throne. 
 
 God made him for companionship, 
 
 To guard us night and day, 
 We found in him obedience, 
 
 And our commands obey. 
 O, how we loved our faithful friend, 
 
 More constant far than man, 
 But cruel death has laid him low, 
 
 And ended his brief span. 
 
 A prince among all other dogs, 
 
 He was so finely bred, 
 He did not seem a dog to us, 
 
 Nor can we think him dead. 
 We sometimes believe Jim had a soul, 
 
 He looked so wondrous wise, 
 And if he had he's found ere this, 
 
 A kennel in the skies. 
 
 9 8 
 
TO MY DEAR YOUNG FRIEND 
 
 THOU beam of sunshine, love and truth, 
 And all the virtues born to youth ; 
 Thou bud of promise, rich and rare, 
 With azure eyes and flaxen hair; 
 Thou spark of goodness from above, 
 Flashed from pure, empyreal love; 
 Thou dewdrop filled with heavenly grace, 
 And angel imprint on thy face. 
 This my prayer, thou child of light — 
 May cherubs keep thee pure and bright; 
 May God's own presence banish care, 
 And keep thee radiantly fair. 
 
 LET US SCATTER OUR FLOWERS 
 
 WE should scatter our beautiful flowers, 
 And not plant them all in one bed, 
 Let all of the garden be scented, 
 By the perfume the roses shed, 
 Each blossom bright is an angel's smile, 
 
 To gladden some sorrowing heart, 
 That exists in the shadows of life, 
 And is pierced by poverty's dart. 
 99 
 
When the sun sheds his golden glory, 
 
 And he kisses the mists away, 
 That have shrouded some life in darkness, 
 
 O gather each beauteous ray : 
 Send each on a mission of mercy, 
 
 On the wings of some snow-white dove, 
 To the heart that is sad and weary, 
 
 And fill it with sun-tinted love. 
 
 The bounty our Maker has loaned us, 
 
 We cannot take with us on high, 
 He trusts us to scatter our flowers, 
 
 To brighten some life ere we die. 
 We came in this world empty handed, 
 
 And we brought neither script nor pence, 
 And that will be just our condition, 
 
 When the death angel summons us hence. 
 
 The gifts with which God has endowed us, 
 
 Are not ours to hoard till we die, 
 For others keep bright our fair jewels, 
 
 Like the stars that pierce yonder sky. 
 Do not hide their sparkle and grandeur, 
 
 By command of the Author above, 
 Let our minds reflect the refulgence, 
 
 That is flashed from our hearts of love. 
 
 Then while we are making our garden, 
 Let us strew the buds we can spare, 
 
 And should they not blossom on this earth, 
 
 They may burst into beauty up there. 
 
 ioo 
 
Let us dry the tear that is trembling, 
 On the lid that grief has made sore, 
 
 Bid the soul look up in its sadness, 
 On the garden that blooms evermore. 
 
 LINES SUGGESTED BY THE DEATH OF 
 AN INFIDEL 
 
 O'TIS a sad, sad thing to see 
 A human soul, in doubt, set free, 
 And leave its tenement of clay, 
 To seek a home far, far away 
 In yonder azure sea of air, 
 We know not how, we know not where. 
 To heights or depths that soul must roam 
 In search of its eternal home, 
 Where bliss ecstatic doth await 
 Its entrance through yon jasper gate, 
 Or else descend through murky air, 
 To hell's vast depths of dark despair. 
 But grander far it is to see 
 A doubting soul from doubt set free, 
 That it may feel the flash of love, 
 Reflected from God's throne above, 
 And when its mission here is o'er, 
 To know that it will swiftly soar 
 On wings of faith, where brightest star 
 Guides to the heav'nly " gates ajar." 
 
 IOI 
 
THE CRYSTAL TREE 
 
 NIGHT'S pall entombed the earth, and chilly 
 mist 
 That dropped from Nature's eyes, could not re- 
 sist 
 The icy breath of Northern blasts, that froze 
 The tear-drop on each object in repose. 
 
 And when the morning broke with glowing light, 
 To gild the earth with royal beauty bright, 
 Each twig was tipped with icy crystal spire, 
 And flashed its brilliance like a jewel's fire. 
 
 THE ENGAGEMENT RING 
 
 A DIAMOND slept within its bed, 
 Until a rude hand broke its rest, 
 In time its dingy robe was shed, 
 
 And thus revealed its beauteous breast. 
 
 Faith set it in a golden band ; 
 
 Its radiance flashed like evening star: 
 Love placed it on a virgin's hand — 
 
 Her thrilling joy no pain could mar. 
 102 
 
In after years it still shone bright 
 
 Beside its sister ring of gold; 
 It bound two hearts in loving plight, 
 
 And kept them true while they grew old. 
 
 AN IMPLORATION TO BACCHUS TO 
 PRESIDE AT A BIRTHDAY BANQUET 
 
 AS we raise this radiant glass to invoke once 
 more, 
 
 The gay and festive god to leave his vine-clad 
 shore, 
 
 The spirit wafted from the pure ambrosial wine, 
 
 Will blend like light with his, and both will in- 
 tertwine. 
 
 O hear our call, thou mythological deity, 
 
 Whose influence floods the earth, and sweeps 
 o'er land and sea; 
 
 Now come, O thou fair Bacchus, from out thy 
 mystic sphere, 
 
 Where nectar ceaseless flows in a ruddy stream 
 to cheer; 
 
 Where bacchanalian fountains cast their blush- 
 ing spray, 
 
 And where witching nymphs delight to roll in 
 sportive play; 
 
 Where stars, in clustered beauty, adorn the robe 
 of night, 
 
 103 
 
And wrap it round thy form in all its dazzling 
 light; 
 
 Come from out the azure sea to hear the north 
 wind roar, 
 
 Let the troubled zephyrs waft thy ruby spirit 
 o'er; 
 
 Come from that clime where nought but beau- 
 teous flowers blow, 
 
 Whose fragrant petals have ne'er been kissed by 
 virgin snow; 
 
 O come, thou deity, from that bright, concentric 
 zone, 
 
 Where the rainbow's tinted span curves upward 
 o'er thy throne; 
 
 Where the sunrise blush doth fade into the 
 greater light, 
 
 And the sunset slumbers in the dusky lap of 
 night ; 
 
 From where the moon, in beauty, weaves a sil- 
 very veil 
 
 O'er ocean's throbbing breast, where sea gulls 
 ride and sail; 
 
 From where Aurora shoots its beauteous spears 
 of light, 
 
 In resplendent halo round the northern pole at 
 night ; 
 
 Flee from that distant isle where treacherous 
 sirens sing 
 
 Their luring chant of death, with sweet, melodi- 
 ous ring; 
 
 104 
 
Where brilliant Venus spins in space on her 
 orbit's wings; 
 
 Where Saturn in his golden circles rocks and 
 swings ; 
 
 Where the charming Pleiades in silvery robes of 
 love, 
 
 Seek their wandering sister in the starry arch 
 above ; 
 
 Where some great intellect doth weave a dia- 
 mond scroll 
 
 Upon the turquoise field that extends from pole 
 to pole; 
 
 O come! fair god, thou precursor of the early 
 morn, 
 
 Whose birthday dates far back when the fra- 
 grant grape was born; 
 
 Take on thy lambent wings of light, let thy nim- 
 bus be 
 
 The circling spirit of each admiring votary. 
 
 Our appealing cry of imploration now is done ; 
 
 We await thy advent here for merriment and 
 fun; 
 
 And we pause, proud god, to hear upon the 
 gentle wind, 
 
 The approving answer, from thy great and 
 august mind. 
 
 Hark! we hear the softest strains from some 
 far-distant spot, 
 
 Chanted by the graceful nymphs that draw his 
 chariot. 
 
 105 
 
He flies like a darting beam on rushing wings 
 
 afar, 
 And trails behind his train a bright and glittering 
 
 star, 
 That he may bask resplendent in its refulgent 
 
 light, 
 And come to us amidst dazzling splendor and de- 
 light. 
 He is here, his nymphs and merry courtiers all 
 
 have flown; 
 We will drink his royal health, and place him on 
 
 his throne. 
 Now, fair god, to you a hearty welcome we ex- 
 tend; 
 And though king upon thy ancient throne, thou 
 
 must unbend, 
 And catch the jovial spirit of the merry 
 
 " boys," 
 Fill their empty breakers up, and share their 
 
 midnight joys. 
 With courteous smile he looks around the festive 
 
 board, 
 Then fills their waiting glasses as graceful as a 
 
 lord, 
 Poising aloft his own with a sure and steady 
 
 hand, 
 He drinks a hearty toast to each of the jolly 
 
 band. 
 They rise with courtly honor, and follow with 
 
 champagne, 
 
 1 06 
 
And they toast the god once more, and all the 
 bumpers drain. 
 
 A smile plays o'er the features of his placid face, 
 
 As each responds with laughter, and bows with 
 classic grace. 
 
 The meal begins in silence, a calm before the 
 storm, 
 
 But soon a subtle something has wrought a great 
 reform ; 
 
 Mirth and fun begin to ripple like a rhythmic 
 stream, 
 
 And wit begins to flow to enliven every theme; 
 
 The heavy heart grows lighter, its burdens cast 
 aside, 
 
 The fretful incubus of care no longer doth pre- 
 side; 
 
 But in its stead fair Bacchus, on his true mission 
 bent, 
 
 Has placed within each heart the spirit of merri- 
 ment. 
 
 Courses served in dainty style bring pleasure 
 much too slow, 
 
 While nectar drained from glasses rich makes 
 the spirits flow. 
 
 Like the water's overflow that leaps the brook- 
 let's bank, 
 
 And races o'er the meadow, while playing every 
 prank. 
 
 So the choice ambrosial wine God made for man 
 to use, 
 
 107 
 
Makes dull nature bubble o'er and doth new life 
 infuse. 
 
 Lively jokes begin to spring from out the quick- 
 ened mind, 
 
 Stories go the circle round, and bear fruit of 
 their kind; 
 
 Songs burst forth from merry souls, which make 
 the welkin ring, 
 
 Laughter peals from jolly hearts, and music hath 
 full swing. 
 
 Christ made the wine, best of all, at Cana's mar- 
 riage feast, 
 
 Its use had the approval of this most holy Priest ; 
 
 He did not call it grape juice, nor fruit of trail- 
 ing vine, 
 
 It must have been fermented to make the product 
 wine. 
 
 With innocent enjoyment the guests partook 
 with glee, 
 
 In much the same glad spirit as those in Galilee. 
 
 Gastronomy has triumphed, each appetite ap- 
 peased, 
 
 The " feast of reason, glow of soul " each glad 
 heart hath pleased, 
 
 The fragrant weed of solace gives birth to 
 wreaths of smoke, 
 
 Which mount like curling incense, a spice to 
 every joke ; 
 
 The hours fleet unnoticed, and they pass with 
 rhythmic chime, 
 
 108 
 
For soul to soul communing ne'er notes the loss 
 
 of time. 
 Like all terrestrial things the end must come at 
 
 last; 
 Bacchus views the sunrise glow, and sounds his 
 
 bugle blast ; 
 He signals to his courtiers, and they obey his 
 
 call, 
 But before he bids adieu and leaves the festive 
 
 hall, 
 He fills another beaker, and holding it on 
 
 high, 
 He gives a parting toast, as he waves each one 
 
 good-bye. 
 Then melts he like a vision, or quickly darting 
 
 gleam, 
 And hies to yonder mystic clime, there to sleep 
 
 and dream. 
 Like the fleeting bird of night that spreads its 
 
 sable wing, 
 To cleave the air to heights unknown, there with 
 
 stars to sing, 
 He bathes in the azure sea of sweetly perfumed 
 
 air, 
 And rests on couch of sun-kissed clouds free 
 
 from toil and care, 
 Then begems himself in the glittering dust of 
 
 stars, 
 Assumes his regal robes, so befitting kings and 
 
 czars. 
 
 109 
 
He soars beyond the rainbow's curve, through 
 
 the sunrise glory, 
 Wrapped in beauty far surpassing that we read 
 
 in story. 
 His spirit form has vanished swiftly from our 
 
 sight, 
 And is wafted far away on beams of roseate 
 
 light. 
 We may see his face again, when a glad new 
 
 year is born, 
 Till then, farewell, gay god, fair god of the 
 
 early morn ! 
 
 January 7, 1904. 
 
 LINES ON RECEIVING A PRESENT 
 Dedicated to the " Royal Quartette " 
 
 FROM a heart that is full, I return you my 
 thanks, 
 But I really would know why you practice such 
 
 pranks 
 Upon one who'd far rather give much than re- 
 ceive, 
 For 'tis written, you know, " It's more blessed," 
 I believe. 
 
 no 
 
I appreciate all that you dear " boys " have done, 
 But when I invite you for enjoyment and fun, 
 It's for me to give you from my heart's treas- 
 ured store, 
 And I crave in return, friendship's love, nothing 
 more. 
 
 I would shed on you sunshine true friends of my 
 
 love, 
 And await its reflex from the Giver above, 
 And welling far upward from the fount of my 
 
 heart, 
 Springs forth true affection, devoid of all art. 
 
 I see on your gift with the engraven record, 
 The names of the givers, Duke, Marquis, Earl 
 
 and Lord, 
 They're dubbed royal scions without title or 
 
 power, 
 But are worthier far than some Peers with a 
 
 dow'r. 
 
 Sincerely I thank you for your kindness to me, 
 Your gift, I shall cherish with the night's jubilee ; 
 It will call forth to mind, and I'll never forget 
 My loving communion with the " Royal Quar- 
 tette." 
 
 January 7, 1904. 
 
 in 
 
THE DISCHARGED CONVICT 
 
 BEHOLD ! he stands like one restored to life 
 once more: 
 For years to this cold, selfish world he has 
 been dead: 
 For one false move in erring youth he's paid the 
 score, 
 Stern justice is avenged, his hope has almost 
 fled. 
 
 Without the prison walls he knows not where to 
 turn, 
 For he is shunned by those whose friendship 
 once he prized; 
 The fire of despair his inmost soul doth burn, 
 And by its fatal wounding is conscience ago- 
 nized. 
 
 His heart is changed, and from his crime he 
 doth recoil; 
 The blush of shame doth mount and stain his 
 pallid brow: 
 He longs for bread that he would earn with 
 honest toil, 
 And prays for strength that he may keep his 
 trembling vow. 
 
 112 
 
In vain he asks for work: in vain for aid he 
 pleads ; 
 Men pass him coldly by, and loathing, glance 
 at him 
 Whose troubled spirit groans, whose broken 
 heart now bleeds; 
 And so he weeps alone, in shadows deep and 
 grim. 
 
 Since Cain, in hatred, took the righteous Abel's 
 life, 
 Man's love has been too weak to help a brother 
 man; 
 And when the Tempter proves a victor in the 
 strife, 
 The victim hides from sight, accursed with a 
 ban. 
 
 For fallen man the gates of mercy close on earth ; 
 
 The petted beast and bird, that have no souls 
 
 to save, 
 
 Are pampered with a love of which there is no 
 
 no dearth, 
 
 While man is left a prey to vice, ill-fated slave. 
 
 Mark! how the convict stands in anguish and 
 despair, 
 His aching heart once light with joy, now 
 filled with fear ; 
 
 113 
 
With head bowed down he breathes an earnest, 
 silent prayer, 
 And lo ! the angels whisper, Cheer thee, broth- 
 er; cheer! 
 
 When Virtue frowns and puts not forth a help- 
 ing hand, 
 And Mercy spurns the one who would redeem 
 his name, 
 God help the undone wretch who bears the 
 prison brand, 
 For if he live, he must return to sin and shame. 
 
 O thou inscribing angel, let thy falling tear 
 Wash from memory's page the guilt recorded 
 there ; 
 And Thou, O blessed Christ! most reverend 
 Teacher, hear ! 
 And bid him cast the stone who hath no sin 
 to bear. 
 
 Be shamed, thou posing saint, who cants so much 
 of love, 
 Yet thrusts the contrite sinner back in sin's 
 deep slough; 
 Methinks the Judge divine, who sits enthroned 
 above 
 And reads each heart, deems him a worthier 
 man than thou. 
 
 114 
 
Perchance when tempted to do wrong thou too 
 may fall, 
 Thy self-wrought citadel of strength may 
 prove too weak; 
 And if thou'rt found within the prison wall, 
 Then thou wilt crave for mercy, and forgive- 
 ness seek. 
 
 And should the world not hearken to thy an- 
 guished cry, 
 But mete to thee the measure thou the culprit 
 gave, 
 Then thou thyself would learn, too late, the rea- 
 son why 
 Man should sweet mercy show, and thus the 
 convict save. 
 
 POETRY 
 
 POETRY is the grace of thought clothed in 
 the garb of rhythmic expression ; the voice 
 of the ideal breathed in songs of beauty from a 
 soul of love; the beatific echo from the lyre of 
 an angel, reverberating through the hall of im- 
 agination; the medium through which the soul 
 paints its beauteous thoughts on the canvas of a 
 receptive mind, and human intelligence. 
 115 
 
O that a poet I might be, 
 
 With thought so pure, and grand, and free, 
 
 That I might fill immensity 
 
 With songs of love, eternally. 
 
 Then I would be content. 
 
 THE FRANTIC MAN 
 
 A MAN rushed in a room the picture of 
 despair, 
 His eyes were fierce and wild, disheveled was 
 
 his hair; 
 He stood before the glass and gazed like one in 
 
 pain, 
 As if his thoughts were dark, and burning in his 
 brain. 
 
 He wheeled with nervous tread, and bolted fast 
 
 the door, 
 Then from his beating neck his collar quickly 
 
 tore; 
 A groan escaped his lips, his face was very 
 
 white, 
 His hand drew from a drawer a blade both keen 
 
 and bright. 
 
 116 
 
He grasped the shining steel and poised it in the 
 
 air, 
 He stayed the downward stroke, his left hand in 
 
 his hair; 
 My soul grew faint and sick, and no one there 
 
 to save, 
 I saw the blade descend — he then began to shave. 
 
 THE FLOWER TEACHETH 
 
 THE choicest flower that blooms, 
 And is given a perfumed breath, 
 We see, too often, assumes 
 
 The earliest emblem of death. 
 In beauty it attracts us 
 
 From troubles that around us lie, 
 And fading, it doth tell us 
 
 That the fairest thing must die. 
 
 SOMETHING THAT GOLD CANNOT BUY 
 
 THERE is something far better than wealth, 
 Which men strive for and hoard till they 
 die, 
 For the life that is blessed with good health, 
 Wears a crown that no riches can buy ; 
 117 
 
And the mind of contentment and ease, 
 Neither harassed by trouble nor care, 
 
 Has a rest in its heaven of peace, 
 All unknown to the proud millionaire. 
 
 There is that which the world with its gold, 
 
 With its grandeur, and glory and might, 
 Is unable to give or withhold, 
 
 For its pains do its pleasures all blight. 
 The good heart that is filled with pure love, 
 
 And that feels for another's deep woe, 
 Has the source of its joy from above, 
 
 A fount that never ceases to flow. 
 
 Better than wealth is the mind that soars, 
 
 And delights in its search after truth ; 
 That all the wide range of knowledge explores, 
 
 As a help and example to youth. 
 The mines that yield us jewels most rare, 
 
 Are devoid of a gem the most pure; 
 And virtue set in her graces all fair, 
 
 Is a jewel alone to endure. 
 
 Gold cannot fill a heart full of love, 
 
 For that, like truth, is a heavenly gem, 
 A spark from God who reigneth above, 
 
 A jewel rare in His diadem. 
 It cannot be an assuaging balm, 
 
 To the one who is wounded by grief, 
 Remorseful soul it never can calm, 
 
 To the sorrowing heart bring relief. 
 118 
 
There is something far better than gold, 
 
 That will rival the most precious stone, 
 A conscience correct is of value untold, 
 
 A compass that will guide to the throne. 
 If we list to its dictates of right, 
 
 We can face the unknown without fear; 
 And the angel of death, in his might, 
 
 Will cause not a sigh nor a tear. 
 
 AS WE JOURNEY THROUGH LIFE 
 
 AS we journey through life with a staff that 
 is strong, 
 And bask in the sunshine with our hearts filled 
 with song, 
 
 What then? 
 Let us think of the friend whose support may be 
 
 weak, 
 Who lives in the shade, and whose heart doth 
 
 bespeak 
 Only trouble and grief, whose facial expression 
 Denotes sorrow and care, a mind of depression. 
 
 When the goddess of fortune doth grant us good 
 
 cheer, 
 And doth smile on us kindly with plenty each 
 year, 
 
 What then? 
 119 
 
Let us bring to the heart that is sad and is sore, 
 Some beams of bright sunshine we extract from 
 
 our store, 
 By lifting its burden as we journey along, 
 With a lever that's potent, and staff that is 
 
 strong. 
 
 When surrounded by friends who bring us great 
 
 pleasure, 
 Our hearts filled with joy that knoweth no 
 
 measure, 
 
 What then? 
 Let us pause for a moment while so happy and 
 
 gay, 
 
 And help lift the burden of the man by the way; 
 Like Samaritans good, help the poor stranger, 
 Who falls by the wayside, exposed to great 
 danger. 
 
 And when the death angel from out yonder blue 
 dome, 
 
 Shall sound the dread trumpet, and shall sum- 
 mon us home, 
 
 What then? 
 
 The seraphim guarding the bright gateway of 
 light, 
 
 Will grant us a welcome to that realm of delight ; 
 
 God will measure to us what we meted before, 
 
 To him who was troubled, and whose burden we 
 bore. 
 
 120 
 
TO MY GUESTS 
 At an Annual Dinner, January 6, 1905 
 
 ONCE again the relentless hand of Time 
 Has swept a year into eternity ; 
 And you have marked, with feelings all sublime, 
 Its silent ebb into the mystic sea. 
 
 The brilliant stars that pierce the azure height, 
 And rotate in their beds of purest blue, 
 
 Do not revolve in space with swifter flight, 
 Than years that pass so silently from you. 
 
 The water that has passed the noisy mill, 
 
 Flows on its course and other wheels explore ; 
 
 And precious time stays not its speed, and will, 
 When lost to you, return again no more. 
 
 Then with the present you must bravely strive, 
 To-morrow's golden rays will never glow ; 
 
 For when those tinted beams of light arrive, 
 It is to-day, for unknown weal or woe. 
 
 O may the star of pleasure brightly shine, 
 
 To grace the smile that always may be yours ; 
 Drink deep of joy from friendship's sacred 
 shrine, 
 And feel its thrill while pulsing life endures. 
 121 
 
Let each glad guest around this festive board, 
 Kiss glass to glass, in friendship's holy name, 
 
 Then quaff with me its cheering, amber hoard, 
 And wish for each a life of brilliant fame. 
 
 THE LITTLE BOOTBLACK 
 
 A BOOTBLACK stood beneath the dim gas 
 light, 
 And plied his calling on one dreary night : 
 All day he'd sought for customers in vain — 
 The snow fell fast, and then came sleet and rain ; 
 His garments scant, his flesh was pinched with 
 
 cold, 
 His heart was chilled with misery untold. 
 No " nickels " did his anxious soul delight, 
 And hunger served to aggravate his plight. 
 And there he stood and faced the mighty blast 
 In hope some one would want " a shine " at last ! 
 But hope deferred was making sore his heart, 
 Yet no one lingered to assuage the smart, 
 But all passed by without one thought or care 
 For him, whose soul was sinking in despair. 
 At last there came one later than the rest, 
 With head bowed down, his hand thrust in the 
 
 breast 
 Of his warm coat ; his countenance was sad, 
 As he paused that he might cheer the weary lad. 
 122 
 
" My boy," he said, " why stand you in this 
 
 storm ? 
 Why face so pinched, why trembling cold your 
 
 form?" 
 The lad looked up in anguish and surprise, 
 His lips moved not, but tears filled his mild eyes ; 
 His bosom heaved, his heart began to throb ; 
 He fain would speak, but he could only sob ; 
 In tones most kind the stranger spoke again, 
 His own heart filled with sympathy and pain. 
 " My little man, your life I'm sure is sad, 
 Come tell, at once, why you are not more glad. 
 Have you no home or shelter from the storm? 
 No friendly hand to clothe your youthful form? 
 No mother's tender love, no father's care? 
 Nor earthly friend your lonely lot to share ? " 
 " Ah, yes," the boy replied in accents mild, 
 " I have some shelter from a storm so wild, 
 My home an attic is down yonder way, 
 Where dear old Tom and I were wont to stay. 
 But now he's dead, the only friend I had, 
 And that is why you see me here so sad. 
 They took poor Tom away, and I surmise 
 His attic now is far up in the skies. 
 A mother's love, you ask, or father's care! 
 I think, sir, both must be with Tom up there, 
 I know naught of their love or kindness here, 
 But sometimes, in my dreams, there will appear 
 A beautiful form, with smile so sweet, that she 
 Must be an angel mother sent to me." 
 123 
 
The stranger's eyes grew moist and dropped a 
 
 tear, 
 His yearning heart was touched, as he drew 
 
 near 
 To scan the features closely of this child, 
 Whose blue eyes called forth memories soft and 
 
 mild. 
 He gazed intently on the upturned face, 
 All pensive now, and marked by classic grace. 
 His heart beat fast as other scenes now came 
 Into his mind. He asked the boy his name, 
 And scarcely breathed while waiting a reply : 
 " I never had a name except when I 
 Saw poor Tom dying, and he spoke so low, 
 And called me ' Percy,' that is all I know." 
 The good man staggered like a full-rigged craft 
 When struck by flaw, that sweeps her fore and 
 
 aft: 
 He reeled like ship when tossed by crested wave ; 
 He then grew faint, as thoughts of her lone grave 
 Whose flame of life was quenched in wedded 
 
 youth, 
 Surged through his brain, engraving there the 
 
 truth. 
 'Tis said that they who near death's mystic clime, 
 Live o'er each act of life in briefest time. 
 'Twas so with him, our friend, though years had 
 
 passed 
 Since from his home, where shadows ne'er had 
 
 cast 
 
 124 
 
Their haunted gloom, and all was bliss and joy, 
 Some tramping wretch did steal his darling boy. 
 He grew more calm as moments flew away; 
 His face beamed bright, and o'er it played a ray 
 Of purest joy, as he drew near the goal 
 He long had sought, with sorrow in his soul. 
 No doubt had he, so certain was he now 
 He'd found his boy, and thus had kept his vow 
 To her whose life had sped to yon blessed shore, 
 As meteors vanish and are seen no more. 
 Again our friend did fix his searching gaze, 
 That he might view the lad in every phase ; 
 He glanced beneath the garments torn and spare, 
 And then he saw a chain of woven hair. 
 With one quick move he tore the clothes apart, 
 And on the chain right over the faithful heart, 
 A face lay sleeping in its golden nest, 
 As dreams a child upon its mother's breast. 
 Like lightning flash athwart the stormy sky, 
 The boy was clasped in arms with joyous cry; 
 The lost was found, the dead restored to life, 
 The face revealed his father's sainted wife. 
 
 125 
 
THE GUIDING STAR 
 
 "T^WAS night. The sun had bowed his warm 
 
 X adieu, 
 
 And dyed the clouds far in the distant west: 
 Soft breezes fanned the aching brow anew, 
 
 And lulled each troubled spirit unto rest. 
 
 In dewy peace, o'er earth's now quiet camp 
 In slumber chained, the moon resplendent 
 smiled, 
 
 And cast a halo from the heavenly lamp, 
 Converting darkness into twilight mild. 
 
 In God's created cradle rocked the deep, 
 And roseate sheen, like some bright jewels 
 rare, 
 
 Played o'er the water, lulling it to sleep, 
 As broods a mother o'er her infant fair. 
 
 Enchantment's wand waved o'er the pulseless 
 world, 
 And silence reigned upon her mystic throne ; 
 Bright, silvery lights, like heavenly flags un- 
 furled, 
 Were born to sight, and kissed the sable dome. 
 
 And when the moon, her nightly vigil done, 
 Had rolled from sight across the heavenly 
 arch, 
 The stars all paled before the Eastern one, 
 That grew in splendor in its guiding march. 
 126 
 
On yonder plain God's holy angel bent, 
 And to the wise men pointed to a sign; 
 
 With eyes fixed on yon brilliant star intent, 
 They sought and found the new-born Christ 
 divine. 
 
 Then far upon the canopy of night 
 
 Star sang to star, and angels caught the strain 
 That gentle zephyrs wafted soft and light 
 
 To heaven's throne, and earth's remotest plain. 
 
 O sight ecstatic ! Angels bright and fair 
 
 Sprang into space, and gladsome tidings sang ; 
 
 Sweet " peace on earth " now filled the joyous 
 air, 
 " Good will to men," the answering echo rang. 
 
 TO MY DEAR YOUNG FRIEND, F. 
 
 THEY tell me thou art blind, ah ! no, it can- 
 not be, 
 Although the light is shaded now, thou still dost 
 
 see; 
 Night shrouds revolving earth, and spreads its, 
 
 sable pall, 
 But on the reverse side the beams of beauty falL 
 127 
 
If from thy youthful eyes the light has ceased to 
 
 shine, 
 And darkness sweeps thy lids once bathed in 
 
 light sublime, 
 Thy happy soul within outshines the darkest 
 
 night, 
 And God has traced thereon the scenes now lost 
 
 to sight. 
 
 Through the windows of thy soul gaze up to 
 
 Him above, 
 And from His great white throne will flash the 
 
 light of love ; 
 Ope the portals of thy heart that it may enter 
 
 there, 
 Then the darkness soon will flee, and all be 
 
 bright and fair. 
 
 THE FLOWER'S SMILE 
 
 I DROPPED a seed into the ground, 
 So dark and damp and chill, 
 And covered it both snug and warm, 
 
 And left it there until 
 The dormant germ sprang into life, 
 
 Brought forth its tiny shoots, 
 Bathed by dew-kissed genial sun, 
 To warm its new-born roots. 
 128 
 
I watched it grow from day to day, 
 
 And nursed it with great care, 
 I kept the soil around it sweet, 
 
 By letting in the air. 
 If dry and parched the soil became, 
 
 Through lack of Nature's weeping, 
 I supplied what sky withheld, 
 
 And kept the plant from sleeping. 
 
 It grew and flourished with my care, 
 
 And nothing seemed to check it, 
 It threw its branches high and broad, 
 
 Nor wind nor storm did wreck it ; 
 It turned its face unto the sun, 
 
 As if to court its kisses, 
 The tiny buds began to blush, 
 
 When warmed by its caresses. 
 
 The dews of heaven bathed it oft, 
 
 And gave it nightly greeting, 
 Its bursting buds expanded wide, 
 
 In beauty grand though fleeting. 
 The sweetest perfume it exhaled, 
 
 From nectar-laden petals, 
 More choice by far than virgin gold, 
 
 Or all the precious metals. 
 
 Its profuse blossoms rivaled all 
 The tints of brilliant rainbow, 
 
 The hues displayed refulgent charm, 
 Like evening's blending sun glow, 
 129 
 
It mutely said unto my soul 
 " I'll try to make life brighter, 
 
 My flowers shall be an angel's smile, 
 To make sad hearts the lighter." 
 
 If all God's mortals would but strive 
 
 To make their life more cheerful, 
 By doing what lay in their power, 
 
 The world would be less tearful. 
 So like the flower let us live, 
 
 And bring more joy and gladness, 
 To lives enshrouded in a cloud, 
 
 Whose heritage is sadness. 
 
 LET THE SUNSHINE PEEP IN 
 
 THROW open the windows, let in the sun- 
 shine, 
 Do not bar its golden bright rays, 
 It comes as a blessing fresh from God's throne, 
 
 To brighten the gloom of your days. 
 There's health in the glow and warmth in its 
 beams, 
 There's life in its genial kiss; 
 Without its warm breath the world would be 
 dead, 
 And with it 'tis beaming with bliss. 
 130 
 
Why sit in your home with the shades drawn 
 down, 
 
 Death's pallor stamped on your wan face ? 
 Why make of your homes a dingy abode, 
 
 And for germs a rare breeding place? 
 Care not for the carpets that cover your floors, 
 
 But let them bleach white if they will, 
 More precious is health a thousand times o'er 
 
 Than baubles that come from a mill. 
 
 Throw open the blinds and let the sun in, 
 
 In every dark place let it creep, 
 No wonder you're pale, no rose in your cheeks, 
 
 No wonder your nerves cannot sleep. 
 There's health in a bath of its sunny bright smile, 
 
 From all your foul drugs cut adrift, 
 Give health a fair chance, a boon you should 
 prize, 
 
 Be thankful to God for the gift. 
 
 THE POTENCY OF INFLUENCE 
 
 I CAST a stone into a brook, 
 And watched its rippling wavelets roll, 
 They soon passed on beyond my sight, 
 And reached the farther shore, their goal. 
 131 
 
A golden fish lay on the sand, 
 
 'Twas swept there by the water's strife, 
 It fluttered near the brooklet's brink, 
 
 The wave I wafted saved its life. 
 
 I wrote some lines of kind advice, 
 
 They drifted in the public press, 
 They wandered here and floated there, 
 
 At last they met one in distress; 
 A young man fall'n from high estate, 
 
 Was sinking in the slough of shame, 
 He read my lines and pondered well, 
 
 Became reformed, redeemed his name. 
 
 In life, the influence we exert, 
 
 May count for good or prove most bad, 
 'Twill make the happy life more bright, 
 
 Or leave the saddened one more sad. 
 The thought we weave from out our brain, 
 
 And speak or write so thoughtlessly, 
 May lose or save a precious soul, 
 
 And seal it for eternity. 
 
 If I may speak some tender word, 
 
 That will make the world the brighter, 
 If by my lines some soul is stirred, 
 
 Or troubled heart made lighter, 
 I'll speak and write such words of mine, 
 
 And I'll let them float forever, 
 Far out upon the waves of time, 
 
 And recall them back, oh, never! 
 132 
 
DEAR SISTER AND I 
 
 THERE remain two links of the love welded 
 chain, 
 
 Dear sister and I. 
 The others have passed to that realm of delight, 
 Where bliss is eternal, and day has no night. 
 On yonder bright shore in the azurine sea, 
 The dear ones are waiting for sister and me. 
 
 They have sailed for that port the soul only 
 knows, 
 
 Left sister and me. 
 From the twilight of time to eternity's glow, 
 They've found that new life as decreed long ago. 
 By yon crystal ocean whose billows they see, 
 They're anxiously watching for sister and me. 
 
 How long will they linger by yonder white throne 
 
 For sister and me? 
 The Lord in His mercy, doth never reveal 
 The death angel's secret for breaking life's seal. 
 In the blending of time with the sweet by-and-by, 
 We'll soar to the loved ones, both sister and I. 
 
 We will greet in the heavens, love's missing links, 
 
 Lone sister and I. 
 Then skim the blue ether on wings of the dove, 
 And rival the angels on missions of love. 
 133 
 
We'll sing to the stars, silver robed, bright and 
 
 free, 
 Each link reunited to sister and me. 
 
 THE ANGEL'S VOICE 
 
 HARK ! 'tis the voice of an angel, 
 That speaks unto my soul, 
 And points with his spirit finger 
 To yonder beautiful goal. 
 
 He smiles as he mentions loved ones, 
 Who have passed the portals fair, 
 
 And are waiting for my coming, 
 Their ecstatic joy to share. 
 
 I hear the angelic music 
 
 That floats on the sea of air, 
 
 And my soul is stirred with rapture, 
 For I fain would enter there. 
 
 The gates swing open wider, 
 And the angel points once more 
 
 To the group that stands expectant, 
 On the crystal sea's bright shore. 
 134 
 
Then the portals sweep in grandeur, 
 To the jasper wall, ajar, 
 
 And the loved ones wait exultant, 
 For me to cross the bar. 
 
 The day is not very distant, 
 
 When the voice will speak again, 
 
 The angel still pointing upward, 
 Will convoy my spirit then. 
 
 We will reach the darksome river, 
 And he'll seize the waiting oar, 
 
 All silently he'll ply it, 
 And ferry me safely o'er. 
 
 Then heaven's resplendent glory, 
 
 In a galaxy of light, 
 Will burst in radiant beauty, 
 
 Like a rainbow in the night. 
 
 Awe stricken by the refulgence, 
 The angel will bid me cheer, 
 
 And he'll beam on me a love smile, 
 And beckon my loved ones near. 
 
 Earth's mission will then be ended, 
 
 The immortal life begin, 
 And with loved ones reunited, 
 
 The promised crown I'll win. 
 135 
 
TO YOUNG MEN 
 
 WHEN you climb the ladder of life, 
 Begin at the lower round; 
 Let patience be your ruling guide, 
 In whatever state you're found ; 
 Then look higher. 
 
 Lay your foundations strong and firm, 
 In cement of Love and Truth ; 
 
 Then build thereon your character, 
 The passport of every youth ; 
 And then aspire. 
 
 When you ascend another round, 
 And a landscape new survey, 
 
 Take Honor with you as a friend, 
 To pave the glorious way, 
 Your chance improve. 
 
 As you higher mount the ladder, 
 Bid Hope still shine the brighter; 
 
 If crushed you'll lose a valued friend, 
 That makes life's burdens lighter. 
 All doubt remove. 
 
 When you have reached the final round, 
 
 And scaled the dizzy height, 
 Let Faith not slumber on her throne, 
 But glow as a beacon light; 
 Do not look down. 
 136 
 
 
With Honor, Love, Truth, Hope and Faith, 
 As strong bucklers in life's fight, 
 
 You'll win the battle, capture fame, 
 And shine like stars at night. 
 Then wear your crown. 
 
 A STRAY THOUGHT 
 
 WHEN evening's first gray shadows rolled, 
 And day was ebbing fast, 
 The setting sun with burst of gold, 
 
 Kissed every cloud that passed. 
 And so 'twill be with life's last day, 
 
 When we are summoned home, 
 God's smile will light us on our way, 
 And guide us to His throne. 
 
 ACCOMPANYING A GIFT 
 
 A SPARK from the anvil of love ; 
 It flashed in my heart, 
 To you doth depart, 
 Like light from the heavens above. 
 137 
 
MY PRAYER UPON THE SAND 
 
 WHEN day had kissed the sun farewell, 
 To meet night's blushing queen so grand, 
 I strayed upon the silvery beach, 
 
 To write a prayer upon the sand. 
 I cared not if the heaving waves 
 My poor petition should efface, 
 For far beneath the surging tide, 
 My prayer the eye of God could trace. 
 
 A wave came rolling swift and high, 
 
 And left a smooth and sandy page, 
 I grasped a pearly shell to write 
 
 My prayer for heavenly heritage; 
 And as I traced my soul's desire, 
 
 My lines were photographed on high ; 
 Nor tide nor time will not suffice, 
 
 To blot them from God's loving eye. 
 
 I thought of life with all its joys, 
 
 And friends, those human stars so bright, 
 Who shed a halo 'round our path, 
 
 Converting clouds to beams of light. 
 I gazed into the star-robed vault, 
 
 I thought of the beautiful sea 
 With waves of pearl, and shore of gold, 
 
 And where heaven and God are free. 
 
 138 
 
I asked for light 'midst life's dark hours, 
 
 I asked for friends both warm and true; 
 My prayer besought the love of God 
 
 To re-baptize my soul anew. 
 And last of all, my heartfelt prayer, 
 
 Engraven on the shifting sand, 
 Invoked the bliss, when life is o'er, 
 
 Of walking on yon golden strand. 
 
 MOTHER'S LOVE THE TRUEST 
 
 AS through life's maze our footsteps trend, 
 Who is our dearest, truest friend? 
 Whose sweet affections are the same, 
 Without regard to wealth or fame ? 
 Who is so constant in distress? 
 
 Whose lips press ours, whose arms caress? 
 And in disgrace who is so dear? 
 
 When others flee, who stands so near? 
 Our Mother. 
 
 Some few do pose as ardent friends, 
 But seek our love for selfish ends ; 
 
 When we're in sunshine plead for aid, 
 Desert us when we're in the shade ; 
 139 
 
Whose love is not what it doth seem, 
 And friendship is delusion's dream. 
 
 When such forsake, as sure they will, 
 Whose love clings closest to us still? 
 Our Mother's. 
 
 At times the one we love most dear, 
 
 And think is true, and life sincere, 
 Weighs in the balance light as dew, 
 
 His friendship false, his heart untrue. 
 When faith lies dying on her throne, 
 
 And hope grows dim, love well-nigh flown, 
 What mystic power bids faith still burn, 
 
 Hope's star to shine, our love return ? 
 Our Mother. 
 
 When life's brief mission here is o'er, 
 
 Our soul has fled to yon bright shore 
 Where beams like faith the brightest star 
 
 That lights the heavenly " gates ajar," 
 What loved one stands on yonder strand, 
 
 And beckons with her outstretched hand, 
 And leads us to the great white throne, 
 
 That we may hear the glad " Well done " ? 
 Our Mother. 
 
 140 
 
TO MY DECEASED AND BELOVED 
 FRIEND 
 
 Rev. Dr. J. O. W. 
 
 DEAR friend (who often walked with me on 
 earth), 
 When thou didst leave thy limitations here, 
 And when thy fettered soul its confines burst, 
 To cleave the buoyant air on wings of light, 
 What strange sensation first possessed thy soul? 
 What pure sublimity of thought was thine? 
 To what mysterious country hast thou gone ? 
 What ramparts of majestic heights hast scaled? 
 What beauteous grandeur burst upon thy sight? 
 What elysium of delight hast gained ? 
 And hast thou met the dear ones gone before? 
 What distant star is thy bright kingdom now? 
 Didst hear the anthem of the heav'nly choir, 
 As star reechoed it to brilliant star, 
 When thou didst near the roseate borderland, 
 'Twixt earth and heaven's refulgent glory ? 
 Hast solved the problem of supernal life, 
 And felt the thrill of heaven's purest joy? 
 Wert thou entranced as brighter grew thy path, 
 'Midst radiant orbs that swing in splendor 
 In the sapphire arch, and light the jeweled gates? 
 And when the portals rolled in grandeur back, 
 And to thy gaze prismatic beauty dawned, 
 Did rapture fill thy reverent soul with awe? 
 141 
 
Beloved friend, canst thou reveal these things, 
 In language that my soul can comprehend? 
 Did God permit one backward glance to earth, 
 And didst thou see thy home and weeping 
 
 friends, 
 And know the depth of sorrow in each heart ? 
 If thy keen vision pierced the ether space, 
 Didst o'er thy soul the pall of sorrow fall, 
 When in their grief they gathered round thy 
 
 clay? 
 Or wert thou filled with ecstasy so great, 
 Thy spirit could not feel the pangs of grief? 
 What e'er thy state I feel that all is well, 
 For we so often shared the joys of life, 
 And held communion with each other's soul, 
 I knew the impulse of thy aching heart. 
 When shadows fell athwart thy troubled path, 
 I strove to drive the fretful gloom away, 
 And bade thee look upon the brighter side, 
 Where sunshine oft dispelled the threatening 
 
 cloud. 
 As friends, our joys and sorrows each did share, 
 But now thy noble soul knows naught but bliss. 
 From each succeeding attitude of joy, 
 Thou wilt progress and reach the highest plane : 
 And on the pinnacle of eternal love, 
 Throughout the eons of eternity, 
 Thou wilt stand perfected in His image ; 
 And midst the transport of celestial bliss, 
 I fain would ask one loving thought from thee. 
 142 
 
THE POOR BEGGAR 
 
 ONLY a beggar was declared in her pride, 
 As she sat in her satins and lace, 
 On the porch of her mansion, dressed like a 
 bride, 
 With the blush of fair health on her face. 
 
 The poor soul in tatters extended her hand, 
 As she asked this proud woman for bread, 
 
 She was famished and weak, and scarcely could 
 stand, 
 And her eyes from much weeping were red. 
 
 " Begone from my presence " was scornfully 
 said, 
 
 " I have nothing to give to your class " ; 
 And with an imperious toss of her head, 
 
 She commanded the beggar to pass. 
 
 A look that was searching, the mendicant gave, 
 As the voice of this woman she heard, 
 
 Then wished in her sorrow she'd found a lone 
 grave, 
 As she pondered each heart-breaking word. 
 
 With a tottering step she passed down the street, 
 And her head was bowed down with much 
 sorrow : 
 Her hunger was gone, and she cared not to eat,, 
 She prayed for her death on the morrow. 
 143 
 
When the silvery stars threw kisses of light, 
 At the moon on whose face the beams played, 
 
 She turned her steps back in her sorrowful 
 plight, 
 To the mansion where she lingered and prayed. 
 
 To her Saviour she prayed that this proud one 
 might live, 
 
 That her heart might be softened and changed, 
 That she would learn of her plenty to give, 
 
 From her arrogant life be estranged. 
 
 When the sun in the morn had dyed the east red, 
 In the grounds 'neath the trees lay sleeping 
 
 The form of the beggar, from which life had fled 
 Where there's neither hunger nor weeping. 
 
 The proud one was summoned. In gorgeous 
 array 
 
 She stood by the form clothed in tatters ; 
 She commanded the sleeper taken away, 
 
 In a tone that a godly heart shatters. 
 
 They raised from the ground the poor corpse 
 that was cold, 
 A letter fell out of its clothing; 
 With her trim little foot the woman made bold 
 To spurn it, with a look of loathing. 
 144 
 
A puff of the wind blew it over and o'er, 
 It returned to her who had spurned it, 
 
 She saw not her name that the envelope bore, 
 But she bent in her pride and turned it. 
 
 She loosened the seal and the contents she read, 
 And her breath came like one who smothers ; 
 
 The letter told of the one who was dead, 
 The name that it bore was her mother's. 
 
 A LEAP YEAR SONG 
 Dedicated to All Anxious Fair Maids 
 
 A MAID had lived a lonely life, 
 She longed for freedom from its strife, 
 And each leap year had formed a plan 
 To share her lot with some good man, 
 They all fought shy when she proposed, 
 Not one to marry seemed disposed; 
 Still she sang with mind composed 
 " O for a man ! " 
 
 At dawn of day when sparkling dew 
 Gave added charm to flower's hue, 
 Ere sun had kissed it from the rose, 
 Where nectar nestled in repose, 
 145 
 
This maiden passed with tireless feet, 
 Along a country shaded street, 
 
 And warbled with a voice most sweet — 
 " O for a man ! " 
 
 Her garb was quaint, but neat withal, 
 Her hair coiled up like ancient Gaul, 
 There flashed from eyes of deepest blue, 
 A light that pierced you through and through ; 
 Her lips were curved with Spartan grace, 
 That gave a charm to Grecian face ; 
 
 From swanlike throat she sang in base — 
 "O for a man!" 
 
 The startled peasants roused from sleep, 
 From open windows long did peep, 
 A few proclaimed the maid was mad, 
 While others said her heart was sad ; 
 Some men announced her fair and bright, 
 But women said she was a fright; 
 
 The maid still sang with all her might — 
 " O for a man ! " 
 
 They shouted to her as she passed, 
 She heeded not their vocal blast, 
 But kept her weary course ahead, 
 Bent on her mission without dread ; 
 Determination stamped her brow, 
 To her stern fate she could but bow; 
 
 Then murmured like the wind's low sough — 
 " O for a man ! " 
 146 
 
She strode far on with rhythmic stride, 
 And took no note of time nor tide, 
 She could not tarry, such her haste, 
 And precious time she would not waste. 
 All day she tramped until 'twas night, 
 Nor paused because of waning light, 
 But sang in tones of strange delight — 
 " O for a man ! " 
 
 A stream ran purling soft and low, 
 The maiden heeded not its flow, 
 An owl's weird hoot she did not hear, 
 And murky night inspired no fear, 
 The lightning flashed, the thunder rang, 
 The poor girl plunged without a pang, 
 And as she sank she gurgling sang — 
 " O for a man ! " 
 
 Next day the youthful corpse was found, 
 And sepultured in holy ground, 
 The maid had found her leap-year prize, 
 But 'twas " a man " (sion) in the skies; 
 Her spirit robed in garb of white, 
 Burst forth in song on heav'nly height, 
 And the refrain came soft and light — 
 " O for a man ! " 
 
 147 
 
FEAR NOT! THY GOD IS NEAR 
 
 AS through Life's stormy path you plod, 
 Oh, brother, heed thy way ! 
 Accept the living word of God, 
 
 And break from Satan's sway. 
 Go seek salvation through the Son, 
 
 For He thy prayer will hear; 
 Then when thy earthly task is done, 
 Fear not ! thy God is near. 
 
 Whene'er the tempter's subtle power 
 
 Shall strive to reign within, 
 Think of thy Saviour's trying hour, 
 
 And, like Him, baffle sin; 
 Through Jesus wash thy sin-stained soul, 
 
 For He is ever dear, 
 And then, though Jordan's billows roll 
 
 Fear not ! thy God is near. 
 
 Come, brother, come, and doubt no more, 
 
 But trust His promised care, 
 He beckons now from yonder shore, 
 
 Where all is bright and fair. 
 And when near death's embrace you stand, 
 
 Should all seem dark and drear, 
 Gaze on yon bright, seraphic band, 
 
 Fear not! thy God is near. 
 148 
 
And when the final hour shall come, 
 
 That bids thee speed away 
 To fairer climes beyond the sun, 
 
 To dwell in endless day ; 
 Fear not to speak the last good-by, 
 
 And dry the trembling tear, 
 Though others round thee breathe a sigh, 
 
 Fear not ! thy God is near. 
 
 When thou hast passed through Jordan's tide, 
 
 And reached the golden strand, 
 Those pearly gates will open wide, 
 
 For thee to join that band; 
 And then thy crown of rich reward, 
 
 Angelic hands will bear ; 
 And oh ! what bliss to meet thy Lord, 
 
 And dwell forever there. 
 
 MY FAVORITE 
 To My Wife Before Marriage 
 
 NO sadness clouds thy youthful brow, 
 For heaven's purest joys are thine, 
 And none are lovelier than thou, 
 
 With thy sweet face and smile divine; 
 149 
 
The richest tint of roseate light 
 
 Is on thy cheeks, and blue thine eyes, 
 
 The rarest trace of beauty bright 
 In every charming feature lies. 
 
 No sadness clouds thy youthful brow, 
 
 For thou art gay and happy too, 
 O could'st thou ever be as now, 
 
 As fresh and pure as morning dew ! 
 May sorrow not thy radiance blight, 
 
 And heavenly raptures banish care, 
 May angels guard thee day and night, 
 
 And keep thee good as thou art fair. 
 
 LOOK NOT UPON THE WINE 
 
 THE draught expressed from vinous fruit, 
 Unmans the man and makes the brute ; 
 When sipped with passion unrestrained, 
 Leaves death and hell behind its train. 
 
 Then pause, young man, ere 'tis too late ! 
 Drain not the dregs that seal thy fate ! 
 Go, counsel with thy inmost soul ! 
 Shun thou the false, seductive bowl ! 
 150 
 
Stain not thy lips, nor taint thy breath ! 
 Taste not the cup that leads to death ! 
 Let manhood place thy standard high, 
 Then measure up to it or die. 
 
 Gaze not upon the tempting wine! 
 Bow not at its alluring shrine ! 
 Thy life, thy self so noble, spare — 
 Think of thy loved ones and forbear. 
 
 WHAT IS DEATH? 
 
 WHAT is death, and what is dying? 
 What this soaring far away? 
 Is the happy soul now flying 
 
 From its prison house of clay? 
 Yes, 'tis soul from body parting, 
 
 Leaving earth with all its strife, 
 On the wings of light 'tis starting 
 For the bright, immortal life. 
 
 As the egg contains the birdling, 
 That in time doth break the shell, 
 
 To cleave the air on strong plumed wing, 
 In ambient space to dwell, 
 I5i 
 
So the soul rends mortal holdings, 
 
 Mounts with joy through sapphire air, 
 
 And exults in new unfoldings, 
 In its heritage most fair. 
 
 Death is but the soul's swift passage, 
 
 Far beyond the brightest star ; 
 As God breathed His spirit in us, 
 
 So He wafts it o'er the bar. 
 It is but the homeward journey, 
 
 To the loved ones gone before, 
 And who wait to bid us welcome, 
 
 To yon bright, supernal shore. 
 
 Death unlocks the prison portals, 
 
 Sets the captive spirit free, 
 Solves the problem so perplexing, 
 
 What the unknown state will be. 
 Lifts the veil that screens the ages, 
 
 That the future now doth seal, 
 Clears the sight to things celestial, 
 
 God's eternal plans reveal. 
 
 Death is but one stage successive, 
 
 In the life that is to be, 
 For from glory unto glory, 
 
 We'll progress eternally. 
 We will grow in grace and wisdom, 
 
 Step by step our souls dilate 
 With the love of our blessed Saviour, 
 
 Till we reach the perfect state. 
 152 
 
Death we know is but transition 
 
 From our limitations here, 
 It evolves a grander mission, 
 
 In the beatific sphere. 
 Death relieves the tortured spirit, 
 
 When our form is racked with pain, 
 Then in truth why should we fear it, 
 
 When our soul receives such gain. 
 
 Death admits us to expansions; 
 
 'Tis the key that opes the door 
 Of the house of many mansions, 
 
 On yon glory lighted shore. 
 It is God's grand invitation, 
 
 To the marriage feast above, 
 Where the saints in expectation, 
 
 Wait in white their crown of love. 
 
 TO MY GUESTS 
 At an Annual Dinner January 10, 1906 
 
 INTO the voiceless eons of eternity, 
 And o'er the verge of time has rolled an- 
 other year, 
 Which lies enshrouded in the buried past, while 
 we, 
 In silent awe, have mourned beside its somber 
 bier. 
 
 153 
 
For one year more those glittering gems of night, 
 Have hung in clustered beauty in the arching 
 sky, 
 And flashed their brilliant sparks, dyed with pris- 
 matic light, 
 Like jewels set in fire, the angels glorify. 
 
 Once more the passing clouds and storms of 
 fretful life, 
 Have come and gone like snowflakes on the 
 rippling stream; 
 One moment they have struggled with the 
 world's mad strife, 
 Then vanished from our sight like sunlight's 
 flitting gleam. 
 
 We stand appalled, and note the panoramic scenes 
 
 That pass before our gaze, as time speeds on 
 
 its course; 
 
 We fail to understand what life's last milestone 
 
 means 
 
 Until, alas ! too late, we feel the dreadful force. 
 
 While on our journey through another fleeting 
 year, 
 As on we passed through life's mysterious 
 glade, 
 We sought and found with joy, how much there 
 was to cheer ; 
 For glints of sunshine far excelled the dark- 
 some shade. 
 
 154 
 
Let not the shadows thicken round our life to- 
 night, 
 For brighter things must flash from out our 
 inmost soul ; 
 Then let the sunshine flood our hearts with pure 
 delight, 
 And pledge once more true friendship in the 
 flowing bowl. 
 
 155 
 
ORIGINAL TOASTS 
 
 Many of which have been given by the author 
 on various occasions. 
 
 To My Lady Friend : 
 
 May angels draw aside the silvery curtains 
 of the skies, 
 
 And flash their love into thy life from pure 
 seraphic eyes, 
 
 Then drape thy lovely form with a beau- 
 teous sheen of light, 
 
 And pin the lambent robe with the pris- 
 matic star of night ! 
 
 Home is the golden casket in which the jewels 
 of love and domestic happiness should be kept. 
 
 The good wife is the brightest spark flashed 
 from the anvil of love. 
 
 May the magnetism of our nature draw to us 
 many loving friends, who will not desert us in 
 the hour of adversity! 
 
 May the lamp of true friendship never burn 
 dim for lack of the oil of love ! 
 
 156 
 
Let us close our ears when the devil attempts 
 to pour into them the venom of scandal. 
 
 May the sunshine of hope dispel the clouds of 
 despair ! 
 
 Do not let us find fault because others meas- 
 ure to us what we meted to them. 
 
 May our ship of life always sail the sea of 
 happiness and prosperity! 
 
 May the poisoned dart of the slanderer recoil 
 and pierce his own heart! 
 
 May the tongue of the mischief-maker, which 
 is sharpened at both ends, and pivoted in the 
 center, be palsied by his or her own venom! 
 
 May the devil never get a mortgage on our 
 character, but if he should, may our guardian 
 angel prevent its foreclosure ! 
 
 May the hypocrite in the pulpit have the cloak 
 of his hypocrisy torn asunder, and his evil heart 
 be exposed to the public view ! 
 
 May our children never cause the blush of 
 shame to mantle our brow ! 
 
 May our sweetheart's brilliancy and glory 
 rival that of the voiceless stars ! 
 157 
 
May true friendship be the key to unlock the 
 door to sweet communion here, and to eternal 
 joy hereafter ! 
 
 May every disappointment of the present be 
 turned into the golden fruit of prosperity in the 
 future ! 
 
 In our intercourse with our fellow-men may 
 the devil never find a loophole in the mantle of 
 our character! 
 
 While fishing in the pool of life, may we al- 
 ways have the best of bait — a good name! 
 
 To the Royal Quartette: 
 
 The happy group has met once more, 
 
 To while away the hours; 
 And if, perchance, each should explore 
 
 The soul's esthetic bowers, 
 May there be found that precious gem, 
 
 God given from above, 
 To flash in life's bright diadem, 
 
 The jewel known as love. 
 May it be set in sparks of truth, 
 
 To make it burn still brighter, 
 And may its glow renew sweet youth, 
 
 And make each heart the lighter ! 
 
 158 
 
 
St. Nicholas Dinner December 6, 1903 : 
 As virgin snow falls light and pure, 
 And mantles earth with whiteness, 
 So may friendship rest secure, 
 
 When robed in Love's true likeness! 
 
 St. Nicholas Dinner December 7, 1904: 
 With merry song and jinging bells, 
 Our patron saint all care dispels ; 
 Then let us now our glasses click, 
 And drink the health of old St. Nick! 
 
 May we never plant stings of remorse in mem- 
 ory's record, for that may be the book of life 
 out of which we may be judged, when the pearly 
 wave of time rolls upon the golden shore of 
 eternity. 
 
 A Friend's Birthday : 
 
 We celebrate a birthday, 
 
 Our friend is growing old ; 
 Never may his heart betray 
 That it is getting cold. 
 
 To My Guests : 
 
 What stars are there that pierce the sapphire sky, 
 Or pearls that 'neath the murmuring waters lie, 
 What gems that sleep in Afric's sunny clime, 
 Are pure and grand like friendship's love sub- 
 lime? 
 
 159 
 
If with this sentiment you each agree, 
 
 We'll drink to jewels rare in sky, and mine, and 
 
 sea, 
 And set the one we deem the richest gem, 
 With clasps of love in life's bright diadem. 
 
 To Two Friends : 
 
 May a nimbus of hope, like a glorious charm, 
 Encircle each one, and keep you from harm: 
 May it gladden each heart and banish all care, 
 And turn every dart that is tipped with despair ! 
 
 To Our Absent Wives : 
 
 There are no gems so rare in this world of strife, 
 There are no flowers so sweet in the garden of 
 
 life, 
 There are no stars so bright in the heaven's blue, 
 As the wives of our heart, both lovely and true. 
 Let us breathe the sweet perfume of flowers so 
 
 dear, 
 And repledge them our love this happy New 
 
 Year. 
 
 Here is to woman, and may the good God bless 
 
 her, 
 And happy is the man who doth possess her ; 
 Sweet is the fragrance of this flower of life, 
 Her love is man's sunshine, whether sweetheart 
 
 or wife. 
 
 160 
 
To a Dear Friend : 
 
 As friendship's bark glides on, let every sail un- 
 furl, 
 And may love propel it by its gentle power ; 
 May dark distrust ne'er wreck this lovely craft 
 of pearl, 
 Nor seek to guide its course for one brief fleet- 
 ing hour. 
 
 May the sublimest stamp of heaven's love be 
 engraven upon each heart by a pen forged by 
 the angels. 
 
 Love is the solid rock upon which salvation 
 rests, and the foundation of everything good and 
 nothing bad, the essence of perfection. May 
 your hearts be filled with it. 
 
 The American Eagle: 
 
 Emblem of liberty and woe to the nation that 
 attempts to take liberties with him, or to capture 
 him by putting salt on his venerable tail. 
 
 To My Guests: 
 
 The rainbow springs its beauteous span 
 
 Across the azure sea of air, 
 And paints God's covenant with man, 
 
 In each prismatic hue that's there. 
 161 
 
So may it be with you in life ; 
 
 Let love the brilliant radius serve, 
 Then joy profound will tint life's strife, 
 
 And Hope will sweep each troubled curve. 
 
 May poverty never rap at our door, but should 
 it force an entrance, may our friends never de- 
 sert us, and may we soon expel the unwelcome 
 visitor ! 
 
 Like showers that gush from the breast of 
 sun-kissed clouds, and paint upon the sky the 
 prismatic glory of the rainbow's tinted curve, 
 so may love for humanity photograph the image 
 of God on our hearts in all its divine beauty. 
 
 Virtue is the most beautiful gem that the 
 angels ever plucked from the throne of heaven, 
 and cast upon the earth to adorn the life of 
 womankind. 
 
 A good woman is the ladder of love up which 
 man ascends into heaven: the door through 
 which he passes in a rough state and comes out 
 polished and reflects her graces. 
 
 A good man is the granite corner stone in the 
 foundation of life, upon which is erected the 
 structure of character and nobility. 
 
 May we live this life so that we will have no 
 regrets in leaving it for a more exalted and per- 
 fect one. 
 
 162 
 
May lies drop dead on their wicked journey, 
 and may truth overtake and bury them out of 
 sight. 
 
 May the trust of to-day place its trust in God, 
 then mankind will have a greater trust in the 
 Trustee. 
 
 May poverty be dissolved in the wine of pros- 
 perity, so that all men may partake of it, and 
 become intoxicated with happiness. 
 
 Here is to the American eagle — may it never 
 lose its identity by wearing the plumage of many 
 nations. 
 
 Here is to the man who knows it all : may his 
 egotism and selfishness cause him to look in the 
 mirror, and see the reflection of an ignoramus 
 clothed in the garb of a pigmy. 
 
 The arrogant man who lives in the world of 
 his own pomposity and who treats his inferiors 
 as though they were cattle, has a soul so small 
 and shriveled that it would be lost in the maw of 
 a gnat. Let him reflect. 
 
 Here is to the man who fills his coffers by 
 
 taking a mean advantage of a brother in distress ; 
 
 may the rust of retribution eat up his ill-gotten 
 
 gains, and teach him the wisdom of a nobler life. 
 
 163 
 
Here is to the man who is brave enough to 
 affix a date to a woman's birth. He is liable to 
 feel the lash of female indignation, and wish he 
 had never been born. 
 
 A noble Christlike woman reflects the pris- 
 matic beauty of the rainbow, whose hues have 
 been dipped in the dust of glittering stars. God 
 bless her ! 
 
 May the charity of Christ fill every human 
 heart, and cause every soul to thrill with heav- 
 enly rapture. 
 
 Here is to babies: they are sparks of love 
 flashed from the heart of God, buds from His 
 garden, reflections from heaven, smiles from the 
 angels, kisses from cupids, and rainbows of 
 promise. 
 
 There are some men who talk a great deal, and 
 sometimes in a bombastic manner, and think 
 they are making an impression, but when they 
 are through they have said very little. Be cour- 
 teous enough to listen, but absorb only so much 
 as suits your purposes. 
 
 Here is to conscience : the person without it 
 is like a boat without a compass, rudder, sail or 
 oar, and will surely become the prey of eternal 
 disaster. 
 
 164 
 
A good wife is the mainspring of her house, 
 and keeps it running on time and in the right 
 direction, and her influence over its inmates will 
 blossom here and bear fruit in eternity. Long 
 may she live ! 
 
 May the nectar of the gods never dethrone 
 the king of reason. 
 
 May the bark of our married life sail down 
 life's stream laden with perpetual love. 
 
 May the lamp of experience light our path to 
 the palace of wisdom. 
 
 May the rose of friendship never drop a petal, 
 nor lose its perfume. 
 
 May our tears of grief be turned into pearls 
 of joy. 
 
 May our nose never be colored by the artist 
 Bacchus. 
 
 May the folly of youth be a stranger to our 
 gray hairs. 
 
 May our character always warrant our being 
 clothed like a gentleman. 
 
 May we always look upon the unfortunate 
 with an eye of charity. 
 
 May the selfish man who takes nothing but 
 his own pleasure into account, realize that he is 
 only the minor part of a man. 
 
 165 
 
May a generous heart never feel the sting of 
 ingratitude. 
 
 May those who have servants be generous 
 enough to try and make them happy by speak- 
 ing a kind word, never be domineering, nor for- 
 get they are human and have feelings akin to 
 their own. 
 
 May we always bow to the graces of a good 
 wife, and never seek to make her our slave. 
 
 May virtue in a man or a woman be the most 
 precious jewel in his or her crown. 
 
 May we never let our kindness be outdone by 
 the affection of a dumb brute. 
 
 We cannot afford to let our politeness be ex- 
 celled by that of an inferior. 
 
 Let us not forget that the aged are sensitive, 
 and do not wound them by neglect. 
 
 May we ever remember that every impulse of 
 the heart is photographed upon the eye of God. 
 
 May false pride not blight our character, no 
 matter how much wealth we have. 
 
 May the purity of our heart never become 
 contaminated by the thoughtless story teller. 
 
 May we not become personal when arguing 
 with another, for it shows weakness and be- 
 littles one's character. 
 
 166 
 
TOAST TO ALL MY FRIENDS 
 
 THE last of my toasts to friends young and 
 old, 
 The wed who're happy, those tied to a scold; 
 Maidens all fair who are eager to catch 
 A partner for life, in shape of a Bach ; 
 The bachelors bold who've cut their eye teeth, 
 And wear on their brow, proud liberty's wreath ; 
 The gay young widows, who're charming and 
 
 fair, 
 And play a sharp game for the coy millionaire; 
 The widowers wise, contented to be 
 A lance as of yore, both jolly and free ; 
 The boys and girls who are happy and gay, 
 Whose lives are as bright as flowers in May. 
 To all of this group I drink from a glass, 
 Filled with a wine that no others surpass, 
 Pearls of best wishes in settings of love, 
 With friendship as true as the peace of a dove, 
 A prayer from my heart, a spark from my soul, 
 Flash from the base to the brim of this bowl. 
 I drink to long life, I drink to your health, 
 I wish for you joy, I wish for you wealth ; 
 The best of desires is yet to be given, 
 'Tis that we all meet in yon starry heaven. 
 167 
 
TO MY FRIENDS 
 
 IN after years, as thou perchance, 
 When thoughts of by-gone days arise 
 Midst other scenes, shall cast a glance 
 Along these pages, should thine eyes 
 Rest on this tribute, think of me, 
 Think kindly, and I will of thee. 
 
 TOT WEERZIENS 
 
 168 
 

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