P s 1514 Da LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. Shelf ..-U_3__. UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. SUCCESS, AND OTHER POEMS JOHN A. DA VIES. CLEVELAND, O. : JOHN A. DAVIES, BOOK AND JOB 31 Public Square. f-^ Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1881, By John A. Da. vies, ^n the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C. ■"^tK*^ CONTENTS. PAGE. SUCCESS, - - . _ . 5 TO POESY, - - _ . _ - 6 " GARFIELD, - - - _ . . 7 " THE HEADACHE, - - _ _ g POLITICAL SOXGS. - - - . _ 9 PARTED, ------ 13 THE PILOT, - - _ _ _ _ 13 A TALE, - - - _ - - 15 A MOONLIGHT SAIL, - - - . _ 20 THE WIFE, ... _ - - - 21 TO A FRIEND, - . - _ - - 22 RESIGNATION, ------ 24 THE WRECK UF THE TRAIN, - - _ 25 FRAGMENT, - - _ . . - 30 MANY AND ONE, 31 REFORM, 34 TRIED AND TRUE, - - - . _ 36 FOLLY'S VICTIMS, - - _ _ . 37 ACROSTICS, - . . . - - 38 SONGS, - - . - . _ . 39 ON A BUSYBODY, - - . .41 PREFACE ||N putting a book before the public, it is usual to % apologize for its appearance. This will not be done in this instance ; tor, whether this little book has merit or not, I am content to leave it with my friends, hoping they may find as much pleasure in reading as I have found in writing it. Cleveland, 0., July, 1881. cK'>/(9o<^8^^\S)o SUCCESS. WENT fishing o'er a gate, With but true love for a bait; And I tried to catch a mate By my art ! But another standing by, Had for bait a golden fly, And its sparkle caught her eye. And her heart. I essayed to sing a song; It was pretty, though not long; Yet I could not rise among The elite. But a neighbor with a mine, Such rich verses could entwine, They appeared almost divine, Oh, so sweet ! TO POESY. So my friend, if you would rise (xreat in name, or grasp a prize, Tiiis advice pray scrutinize ('Tis between us) : First get rich, and then you may Tell your love, or sing, or play, And you'll hear the people say, " What a genius ! " TO POESY. 'WEET poesy! to thee I sing to-day, 5 Accept this loyal, though but simple lay ; Though no heroic pinions bear me up. Though I among the lowly warblers sup, Still aid me, that my song, though low be sweet. Its accents tender, and its measure meet. Let others woo thee in such hifty form, That rhyme and rensou perish in the storm. Content I'll seek thee in the shndydell. And list enchanted 'neath thy magic spell; Pi-rchanoe 'o catch from thee some sweet refrain, Of joyous measure and harmonious strain. GARFIELD. GARFIELD fAIL, Garfield! Hail! Ever in freedom's van, ^. We hail America's true nobleman. 'I'i, Not such as other climes the title own : A titled lackey waiting near a throne ; But gifted by thy Maker with a heart, That throbs responsive to the noble part. Chide not thy Maker, that He did not spare To thy young life a tender father's care ; For He who took him from thee well would know, That sturdy plants, by storms, yet sturdier grow, So early trials passing o'er thy breast, Enobled, strengthened, purified and blest. When treason reared its impious form, And strove to ])oison freedom's life, E'en there amid that fearful storm, We saw thee foremost in the strife. In war, in peace, still in the van, For freedom. Hero, Nobleman ! TO THE HEADACHE. And when in later years it came, In comlier garb and changed in name, Thou wast the first who dared to throw The gauntlet at the traitor foe. Again we saw in freedom's van, Our Statesman, Hero, Nobleman. And now Ohio, with united voice, 'Mong all her sons still claims thee as her choice. To fill the highest place she can bestow. And, knowing, she can trust, and bid thee go — Go do thy duty there, as thou hast done. And she may never blush to call thee son. Clevkland, Jany. 22, 1880. TO THE HEADACHE. tHOU fiend ! art thou returned again To rack and burn my weary brain? Avaunt ! or I shall go profane (to bed.) I dare not rave and pull my hair. Like others writhing in despair. I would I had it plugged, 1 swear, (with lead.) POLITICAL PO LITICA L C K O N 1 N . ^IR Samuel saw in liis reck'ning a flaw, ^ As he moodily sat in the gloaming. Said he, " I must find one who money will bind ;" "Oh, faith, I'm yer man, then," said Cronin. Said Sam, " You must swear the election unfair And send Watts, the postmaster, roaming." Said Pat, " Faith, I will ; just hand me your till, And I'm yours most obedient," said Cronin. Said Sam, " If you find the others won't mind. But over their rights commence groaning" — "Just lave that to me; I'm equal to three; I'll go it alone, then." said Cronin. The plan worked all right, till brought to the sight Of some who for fraud were exploring. And then what a rout, while Sammy, cried out, " May the de'il fly away with you, Cronin ! " Cleveland, Feb., 1877. 10 KALI^Y OF 1880. RALLY OF 1880. Air— WACHT am Rhine. ft ffOME all who love our native land, •^ CoQie to the front, and nobly stand For right, for right, tor truth and right, God will protect the truth and right. Chorus — Come rally round our standard here. For Garfield, and for Arthur cheer ; With them to guide our bark, We need not fear. Come from the pine-clad hills of Maine ; From California's verdant plain; In might, in might, in freedom's might, Come forth in freedom's royal might. Chorus — To rally, etc. Come from th- farthest lake bound coast. And with the south a mighty host. Unite, unite, in love unite. As brother- meet, and then unite. Chorus — To rally, etc. GARFIELD, 1880. 11 GARFIELD, 1880. fOME join in a song to a man of true worth ; No riches he boasts, and though humble his birth, 'Tis one whose pure manhood enobles the earth : 'Tis Garheld, our leader we sing. In boyhood though poor, he was earnest and .strong, He did his whole duty with laughter and song. And kept the quaint mule slowly jogging along — A leader of teamsters was he. The war-cloud o'erspread our fair land with its gloom ; Our bravest and best were consigned to the tomb ; Still there to the front of the fight was his plume, A leader of heroes was he. Bright peace had returned to our nation once more ; They tried but in vain treason foul to restore ; He soon saw their game, and forbid them to score ; A leader of Statesmen was he. vSo hail him with joy, us our leader to-day. We fear not the foe we may meet in the way. We'll fight for the right, and all natious shall say, A leader of rulers is he. Hail, hail, our nation's pride w.e hail ! In Garfield's name, we victory claim, 'Tis Garfield's name Ave sing. 12 PARTED. PARTED. §ND must we part? We who have vowed so oft, Till death should part us naught could intervene : When at the even-tide with accents soft, You'd whisper words of love, or trusting lean Upon this arm, while the fair moon aloft Shed her pale beams, down through the maple's screen- Oh, then, I thought our loves, our lives, were one. And we should journey thus till life were done. And you did vow that then a day would seem An age unless some part were spent with you. Was then your faith so weak that you could deem I was unworthy in a month, or two? Or was your love for me naught but a dream. From which a slander could awaken you ? A thousand slanders could not thus divide My love and you, so you were true, my bride. I thought a wife's fond love the strongest link, That e'er could bind us mortals here below. Had you that love, would you this trial shriuk. And leave me quite alone to bear the blow ? Were you thus hard beset, though on the brink Of shame and infamy, I'd face the foe. T H p: P I L O T . 13 And faithful stand, between you and the strife, Ay leave all else on earth for you, my wife. THE PILOT. ETHOUGHT, in a frail boat, alone , I rode upon a stormy sea ; The winds swept o'er with angry moan The waves, that answered sullenly. In vain I strove my bark to guide, And tend my wildly-flying sail, As wilder tossed the heaving tide, And fiercer blew the shrieking gale. The lightnings from His mighty throne, In an incessant shower He drove ; While the mad winds and waves did groan. Beneath the awful voice of Jove. At length a wilder, fiercer 'ilast That tore away my sail from me, Swept with terrific vigor past, And left me drifting helplessly. 14 THEPTLOT. (A moment's time it seemed like years) — I cried aloud in agony, " Help ! Help ! I sink !" when, through my tears, I saw a light close on my lee. A cheering voice cried, " Boat ahoy ! Dost need a pilot through the gale? " " Ay, ay," I cried, and saw with joy One spring on board and catch my sail. He took the helm, bade me obey All He should bid me do, and live ; And soon beneath His matchless sway, My bark sped gently o'er the wave. With choking voice I thanked Him, then, Told Him I had naught else to give ; He said, " I am the Friend of men. And all who call on Me shall live." I prayed Him, then, He'd give to me His name, from where, and why He came ? "I came from Heaven to succor thee ; And Cheist the Pilot is My name." Cleveland, Nov. 25, 1879. A TALE A TALE. I. i LATELY heard a tale of rural life I That pleased, yet saddened, with its simple strain. 'Twas no heroic scene of hate or strife. Nor high-wrought fancy of a poet's brain ; But life as seen and felt by him whose lot Is cast in cabin home or lowly cot. ir. Thus runs the tale: A peasant, wife and son, Lived on a mountain side in Italy. They tilled the little farm they dwelt upon. Which well repaid their care. 'Twas prettily Laid out in vineyard, field and grove. Where grapes and cereals and the olive throve. III. No idle life was theirs. Their days were spent Tending the olive grove or fruitful vine. Their daily toil a sweeter pleasure lent To the calm hour of rest at day's decline. Blest twilight hour ! And blest abode of love ! Fit emblem of that home of rest above ! 15 16 A TALE. IV. I love the twilight hour, so calm and still, The silvery moon that o'er yon hill-top peers, The gentle murmur of the rippling rill. The brightening sparkle of the heavenly spheres. Blest twilight hour ! Oh ! may my life's decline Steal o'er my senses, calm, serene, as thine ! V. 1 love the twilight hour, a hallowed spell Descends upon our senses like the dew, Kefreshing, soft. Anon, the vesper bell Makes heaven appear but just beyond our view. Otir hearts respond to Nature's soothing power In praise to God for this, the twilight hour. VI. And thus they lived for years in sweet content. At peace with God, themselves and with the world. Each season's verdure a new beauty lent To their loved home. The little stream that purled Adown the mountain side so bright and clear, Appeared more beauteous each ensuing year. VII. Their son, now grown to manhood, was their pride. They lived but in his smile, as he in theirs. A TALE. 17 He seemed content forever to abide With them, and share alike their joys and cares. Oh blessed home ! Oh love almost divine ! How sweet, yet potent, is that wand of thine ! VIII. Yet storms will break e'en 'neath Italia's skies, When mountain streams to torrents shall have passed And the fair spot, alike to Paradise, Become dismantled 'neath the furious blast. So 'tis within our hearts : too oft we see A wreck of passion where fair peace should be. IX. At length, the cloud of war o'erspread the land, And dimmed awhile the bright, fair orb of peace. To be dispelled again by freedom's hand. When cant and bigotry alike shall cease, And out the gloom of superstition's night A nation shall arise in freedom's light. X. Up to their quiet home the call had come, And sire and son had hastened to obey ; Cast one fond look on mother, wife and home. Then joined the ranks of freedom in the fray. While in that lowly home, 'mid fear and dread, A watcher waits the living, or the dead. 18 A TALE. XI. And thus she watched and labored, hoped and feared, For tidings from her loved ones ; but none came. The days wore slowly on, and weeks appeared ; The weeks rolled into months ; 'twas still the same. Ah ! who but those who've felt can know the pain Of those who patient wait, yet wait in vain ? XII. At length the news was brought her that her son, Though wounded sore, was on his homeward way ; That freedom's cause a victory had won ; A husband's life the price that she must pay. Oh, Freedom ! priceless boon ! But oh, the care And sorrow, pain and tears, thy martyrs share! XIII. They broug^'t him home again, her boy, her pride. Alas, the fitful gleam that hope had fed Brightened awhile, when by his ni'ith^r's side; Grew dim; then bright; and then forever fled. They buried him at twilight, and the rill Chants his low requiem down his native hilL XIV. And now, a childless widow only waits. Beside a greencapped mound on yonder hill. A TALE. 19 Her summons. A.nd beside the pearly gates The dear ones gone before are waiting, till The loved oil earth shall meet, no more to roam, But live forever in that perfect home. Cleveland, Jiilv 14, 1880. 2~ 24 RESIGNATION RESIGNATION. She sat like one entranced, as her fingers swept the w keys, All unconscious of the weird impassioned strain ; But the song of prayer she uttered seemed to give her spirit ease — As it ended in a low, yet sweet refrain. Refrain : — Though while here below we may sorrow know, And e'en life seem a load to bear, Yet our tears and sighs will not reach the skies ; We shall sing when we all meet there. Her pallid cheek grew bright with the flush of christian hope, And the tears had cleansed her eyes of earthly care, While her fair and fragile form had regained the strength to cope With and conquer all her enemies — by prayer. She passed away from earth like the music of her song, But her cheering words of hope they still remain ; May we learn like her, while here, thus to suffer and be strong, And like her, at last, a home of rest to gain. T H E \\' R E C K O F T H E T R A I N . 25 TH^ WRECK OF THE TRAIN. ' |J|1D snowing and blowing, ^A With furnaces glowing, Its fiery path sowing, And fire in its breath . With noise and commotion, Like boisterous ocean. With swift locomotion, It goes to its death. n. Through towm and through village, And snow covered tillage. Or where the waves pillage The sands from the beach. O'er valleys 'tis bounding, Or hill sides half rounding. While all are resounding Its roar and its screech. III. Still onward 'tis dashing, With window lights flashing. 26 THE WRECK OF THE TRAIN Doors slamming and clashing, And rattling of pane. Inside are all races, Old age and young faces, A world in small space, is A passenger train. IV. All trades and professions, Some great in possessions, And some whose accessions Of wealth have been small. The rich by extortion. The poor through misfortune, Who sadly importune. Oh, list to their call. V. Its beacon light flushes. As onward it rushes; The wind in swift gushes The smoke sweeps away. Still onward 'tis hieing, On, on, almost flying; The storm even vying, Or lightning's swift play. THE W R E C; K OF THE TRAIN. 27 VI. Still steadily striding Through gorges, or gliding Through tunnels, half hiding Its form from the night. Still onward, keep going, Though densely 'tis snowing, Its motion is slowing — A bridge is in sight. VII. Of iron the bridge is Wide spanning high ridges ; The scene o'er its edge is Quite fearful to view. But look ! see it shaking, The whole structure quaking, O, God ! is it breaking ? Alas ! 'tis too true. vrii. Down tumbling and dashing, 'Mid rumbling and crashing. Careening and splashing, Down into the stream. There wounded and bleeding. With life fast receeding 28 THE WRECK OF THE TRAIN Or drowning, none heeding Their piteous scream. IX. Alas ! how disaster Swift follows disaster. Now, fire, the dread master Fiend reaches the goal ; At first, scarcely peeping, Then stealthily creeping, It soon high o'er-leaping, Envelopes the whole. X. Should sickness o'ertake us, Our strength e'er forsake us. And suffering make us. But long to go home, Kind friends o'er us weeping, Their sad vigil keeping, E'en then our last sleeping, With anguish would come. XI. Now, look with eyes tearful, On this scene more fearful, THE WRECK OF THE TRAIN. 29 On these who so cheerful While journeying home. As plunged to the gulf there, All mangled with wounds bare, Or scorched by the fire's glare, They pray death to come. Some 'neath timbers lying, To 'scape vainly trying. By fire slowly dying, A terrible doom. Some plunged in the river. To flounder and shiver, Till soon, with a quiver. They sink in the gloom. ^^^