? e~a Class „ Book_.... Copyright N° _ _.Ji COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. Songs of a Deeper Note Songs of a Deeper Note BY EDMUND CORLIS SHERBURNE • , BOSTON Richard G. Badger 1904 Copyright 1904 by E. C. Sherburilfe Ah Rights Reserved LIBRARY Of CONGRESS Two Copies Received APR 19 1904 Copyright Entry CLASS By mine own folly have begot my ruin, By my own vices wrought I my disgraces. Hungry I rise from out a fitful slumber, And with the food of swine I break my fasting. ! I Filled with the husks, I ever suffer hunger, |( A faintness in my fullness most tormenting. From out my cave I issue forth at morning, Chilled by the damp of night. No mantle have I That will enwrap me, and thus gain protection. Naked I found the earth, a welcome stranger ; A naked outcast now, save the scant garments Whose shreds will scarce sustain their filthy burden. The torrid sun, shining with fiery splendor, Darts his fierce beams, unpitying, upon me, While I must watch and tend my mean compan- ions, Till the day closes and the dews of evening Find me upon the mountain, unprotected I, like the savage beasts upon the mountain, Seek a rude cave for shelter and protection, And on the stones, cold, cheerless, and unpity- ing, Drop my worn self, — my prayer, an impreca- tion, And fall to sleep, full of strange dreams and direful. I, whilom, fair and strong as the proud cedar, Health in each vein, my muscles strong as iron, Now bear the penalty of my excesses, Now show the marks of my severe exposures. Languid, I rise, at the red sun's dread summons, Like a whipped beast, begin a new day's labor, Cheered by no sight of living human beings, Helped by no tones, tender and sympathizing, Instead I hear the grim dread tones of Famine Give me my choice, " Labor or else starvation." And yet my sick heart shows, my languid body Tells me, I shall not long endure this service. 12 My shame, my solitude and my exposure Will do their work, anon, sure as fell poison. One friend I find I have yet unestranged, And he'll come close and still more closely to me And one day touch my cheek, and ease my sorrows. Yet life to me has not been all a burden, Many the joys I've had, as I recall them, Had many friends, constant, and true and faith- ful, Passed many years in peace, almost halcyon. My childhood's home ! It seems almost enchanted, As from this distance, I behold its outline. Fond hearts were there ready to give me wel- come With my first cry for home, and for protection, A mother's lips oft touched my cheeks with kisses, A father led, and gave me goodly counsel, There never knew I of the pangs of hunger, No lack had I of good and comely raiment, And when the fierce storms raged, and flashed the lightning, A friendly roof was near to give protection, And when aweary with my easy service Found there a place of rest, O how delightful ! My native land ! No land I've found so lovely, Though I have travelled to a distant country. Nowhere the sky so blue, the air so balmy, So calm the vales, so high and bold the moun- tains, Nowhere so clear the brooks, so pure the waters, i3 Her fields were wont to wave with bounteous har- vests, And peaceful flocks and herds graze in the past- ures, The servant labored with his master, cheerful, The wealthy master grew not an oppressor. There humble homes were often crowned with plen- And happy children smiled around the hearth- stone. The rulers judged the people, well and wisely, Their laws were firm, but fashioned to deal justice, There God was honored as the Great Creator, Ruler and Sovereign of all His people. His righteous Will they knew, and knowing, heeded, Happy that land where all was peace and comfort, Happy that land for God was with His people. Within that land where the mean man had plenty, And all could gather round their homes and fire- sides, In wealth my father lived, and in distinction, Loved by his neighbors, honored in the nation. His servants kept his flocks and dressed his vine- yards With a kind word and liberal wages paid them. His children grew around him, bright and happy. Indulgent ever to their proper wishes And when he governed looked to their advan- tage, Was never rash, unfeeling or exacting. In such a home, my childhood years flew swiftly And soon I entered through the door to man hood. 14 Fair was the prospect, that then oped before me. Position, wealth, ease, luxury, and honor I could have grasped, almost without an effort And with due wisdom might have always worn them. Trained by my father, though by nature wayward, I was regarded as a youth of promise. Liberal and frank and free and courteous, ever .1 was the center of the social circle, And whom I would, those made my companions, And there were those with whom I took sweet counsel. Now the scene changes, and my Summer morn- ing Shot through the Autumn to an early Winter. My radiant sun before it reached the zenith Fell like a meteor and went out in darkness. (My sin and shame stand ever out before me And add more gall unto my cup of sorrow I drink the draught and add tears to the potion.) Though I was prosperous and my future hopeful And walked an easy road leading to Fortune I grew aweary with familiar duties. My means were smaller far than my ambition, I sought for room whereby I might expand them And wished to build a fortune large and princely. I felt my father cramped me with his counsel ; I saw a weakness, only in his caution And in my folly thought him in his dotage ; I thought that if I had my equal portion With none to caution, no one to g ive me counsel I might as far surpass, in wealth, my. father As he had gone beyond his meanest hireling. One summer's eve, (My father in his arbor, His prized resort for rest and meditation,) Sat in the doorway ; from the west o'erlooking His vineyards, now heavy with luscious fruitage, He saw his barns bursting with their abundance ; Upon the hills he saw his numerous cattle ; He thought of all his wealth and all his honors How God had led him, and dealt gently with him, Then blessed he God, and vowed continued service, Intent upon the schemes of my ambition, I sought my father to make known my wishes. I saw him with his hoary head uncovered, His flowing beard down reaching to his bosom. I met his gentle gaze with love benignant And like a guilty thing, preferred my purpose, I told him all of my enlarged ambition, Spoke of my narrow and confined condition, Spoke of the wonders others had accomplished, While I to them in no way was inferior. I wanted nothing but my proper portion To show him what a young man could accom- plish. My father chid me gently in his answer, Told me my project was a youthful fancy, My scheme was wild, chimerical and dangerous And granted, would destroy our mutual comfort. "Stay," said he, "in the land of thine abundance Where friends will add a zest to thine enjoyment. Better a moderate portion safely funded, Than triple wealth uncertain of attainment. 16 Those who in haste have vaulted into fortune Have been like comets ; only seen but rarely, And when they rise they claim our gaze with won- der ; But as the comet with his train of splendor May for a while outshine his mild eyed sisters, They will burn on and on in even luster, Ages on ages while he lies forgotten. So may those men who haste to bear distinction Daze for a while the young and simple minded, With showy schemes and with deceptive splendor, Look for their lights to cease ; while modest merit Will shine with even and increasing brilliance. I would not have thee go, for there are dangers That would beset thee in thy undertaking More dreadful than the loss of all thy fortune, I'd fear it far more than thy body's safety, E'en though thy course led through the Arab's country Or thou wert perilled on the boistrous ocean, There is a treasure, Son, there is a treasure Compared with which gold is a filthy substance, I joy to think thou yet hast that possession, A heart love loyal to thy great Creator. A mind unsullied in its native virtue. But in that land where thou dost wish to tarry The true God is not known and worshipped, And there the vices that should make thee shudder Will be so common as to scarce be noticed, And would pollute thee like the plague by contact, Whilst thou removed from all thy home restric- tions And full intent upon thy reckless scheming Wouldst blindly rush into alarming dangers, i7 Till thou wouldst fall some day, lest Heaven fore- fend it And find complete and absolute thy ruin. I pray thee think no further on thy project, But bide here in thy home and with thy people. Here is a field suited to thine ambition If thou appliest it in the proper channel, Ere long the fruit will fall that thou desirest, But if thou pluckest it now, thou'lt take it unripe, Stay a few years to be my staff and comfort, Stay a few years for thine own weal and welfare, Stay a few years for God's sake and the nation's, And when I die thou'lt find thy portion greater By being coupled with a father's blessing." I know not I what hateful demon seized me And of my reason took complete possession, I wanted nothing of my father's counsel, I listened to it with suppressed impatience, My spirit chafed me from his mild suggestions, My voice was husky with my deep emotions As I replied : " I've sought, Sir, your permission To do what I shall do though you refuse me, My mind shall be, henceforth, my only sovereign, And I shall heed it, Sir, in its dictation Before your God's or your own proper counsel. Thou mayest refuse that which to me belongest And give it my staid brother if thou wiliest — I'll be no beggar for a mess of pottage — But I shall go, Sir, with a mind untrammelled — Remember wilt thou my prophetic statement? — To happier lands and to a life of pleasure." I turned and stalked away, big with importance, My father did not speak, I thought him silenced And gloried in it as a happy omen. 18 Then came the hurried days of preparation For I was spurred on by a mad ambition, My pride ran high as billows after tempests, I lost no time in keeping my rash purpose And on the third day started on my journey. I left my home without a tender feeling, — The fields, the vineyards, and the old time mansion Awoke in me no train of recollection When for the last time I did gaze upon them, With faithful friends I shed no tears at parting Nor did I bid adieu to those held dearest. As doth the lightning from the unclouded heavens Descend to earth without a previous warning And striking lays the gnarled old oak prostrate So did my words, since coming unexpected Fall with a heavy blow upon my father And reft him near of life. At length recovering He learned from friends my settled purpose, Wailed a long wail; one for the dead befitting. "Alas ! My sun goes clouded to its setting When I had hoped a peaceful quiet evening Now am I by my God severe afflicted ; I know no greater trial for a father, I should have wept warm tears, for they were fit- ting Had death been agent in our separation, But now he'll seek his grave through much of suffering, Shame and contempt in heaps will lie upon him,g§ In death his body will be food for ravens, — But no ; he'll think of home in his dejection, And reft of pride and of his mad ambition Will come anon seeking some small protection. Then will I grasp him with a hearty welcome i9 And he shall feel that I forgive him freely. I cannot see him now; 'tis well I do not" But I would have thee haste to the exchangers, Collect these dues ! 'twill be a fine large fortune, And bear it to my son and bid him take it. He asked me for his portion ; He shall have it, I would that he would use it most discreetly, But do not tell him so 'twould but enrage him. This only say as thou dost give the money Thy father sends the portion thou desirest And with it sends a father's true affection, Go if he must and Heaven attend his journeyings. How easy is it when the mind is evil To enter upon schemes of wild delusion The sinful mind finds, ever, means of sinning, The reckless soul runs to its own undoing With freedom as the river to the ocean, — Now there was in our native village camping A caravan of merchants, who were travelling With a long train of horses and of camels, Laden with costly goods to Alexandria. I sought the chief and easy gained permission To join the train and travel with it onward. Upon the morrow just ere our departure Elisima, my father's servant, met me, Took me aside and showed me my possessions ; Ten thousand shekels, had my father sent me In gold, beside he gave the laden camel, A faithful servant also who should guide him And give his labor for my needful service. How my heart bounded as I knew my fortune, What thoughts of greatness took fast hold upon me I felt that I had wrought a great achievemeut 20 And thought the omens fair and most propitious. Now might I travel as became my station, N"ow had I chance to show my haughty spirit, Now might I traffic without let or hinderance. Within our train were men of many nations, Egyptian, Syrian, Roman, Ethiopian, Many had wealth and bore signs of distinction In costly robes, with steeds of golden trappings. I would not travel with a lesser splendor Than any of my wealthy, proud companions. My horse, I chose him for his noble bearing, His haughty step, his wide dilating nostrils, His eye of fire, his arched neck of thunder. I spared no pains nor cost upon his trappings And had them wrought in gold and set with jewels. My homely robes I doffed for gay apparel For finest linen and for royal purple 'Broidered with silk and blue and gold and purple. Princely I looked as I bestrid my charger, Princely I felt, and, like a mighty leader, My gold I lavished with as liberal freedom As if my fortune was to be replenished By an extensive province tributary, — We journeyed; and I felt I grew in favor With all the proudest spirits in our party, I liked their ways and I enjoyed their customs, So different from the staid old Jewish notions Where all were hampered by their stern religion. We feasted on choice viands as we travelled, We drank the best of wines in golden goblets And told our tales of love and of adventure And spent our nights in music and in dalliance. Thus in due time we reached our destination And rode with pride into the far famed city, Then came our halt, and then our separation. 21 Within an inn I now took up my lodgings. And made me friends by scattering money freely, My days and nights I gave them up to pleasure, To what would please the eye, or charm the senses, And lived a gay and wild voluptuary. As are the forest trees with foliage laden Soon rendered bare by frosts and storms of Autumn And as the lake though broad and deep the waters Is quickly emptied by a mighty channel, So passed from me my good and large possessions Through the large channel of my dissipation, And soon I reached my very latest shekel, I sold my camel, and I spent the proceeds, I pawned my horse but never could redeem him, I gambled with my robes and with my jewels With varying fortune ; but in the end I lost them. Then was I driven amid much jeer and cursing From all my former haunts of dissipation As if I was a vile and filthy being. I walked the streets, no eye did smile upon me, I saw good homes but no door for me opened, And in the streets I made my first encampment. I saw the stars shine clear and cold from heaven As if they saw me not, or not regarded, I felt there was no heart of love above me, In man no tenderness, and no compassion. I reasoned thus : " Why lie I here and famish When there is wealth and plenty all around me, The selfish world will let me die of hunger. Why not or rob or steal and live in comfort ? None care for me, why should I care for others ? The rich will let me die ere give a penny, What if I slay the rich and live in fullness I thought ; and quick my plan had executed 22 Had not a power above kept me from murder. I saw a merchant, He was travelling homeward I knew his gains were large by land and ocean I bade him give his fortune for his ransom, I vowed him death upon his least resistance, When lo ! a soldier passing by beheld us, Seized me, and hurried me in haste to prison. For weeks I languished in a dreary dungeon And bore my sufferings with a sullen spirit. Then came release, but through the bastinado And banishment in shame far from the city. For days I travelled like the veriest beggar, Aimless and purposeless I cared not whither, The lands I entered grew more wild and barren, More wild and rude and savage were the people. At length the fruitage failed me by the wayside, Nor by my pleadings could I gain a morsel, Then sought I work, (for hunger made me urgent,) To pay for aught to satisfy my cravings, But there the servant was not greatly needed Or else they doubted of my honest purpose. Famished, at length I came across the swine-herd, Begged for some labor, though at merest pittance, And was assigned to this my mean employment. Is this the fair land of my eager fancy ? Am I the youth with fortune disaffected Within a home where all was peace and fullness? Am I the son reared with a careful guidance, The pride and hope of an indulgent father ? Alas ! Alas ! How great is my declension, My pride and folly have complete undone me, And I shall die a guilty wretched being. 2 3 God's ways are just ; and he who scorns H«is coun- sel Shall reap ere long the fruit of his deservings, We may reject Him, when we hear Him speaking, And seek to flee away, far from His presence But He will follow us in all our wanderings And punish us for every sin committed, They who will sow the wind shall reap the whirl- wind, And the eternal law cannot be broken. I will not enter on a palliation Of my past sins ; for they were great and grievous, And though my days have been filled up with groanings, I feel the stripes were laid on me in mercy, The pains we feel in body or in conscience Come from some good and wise law violated, And it is wisdom for us in our smartings To trace betimes the cause of all our troubles To their own source, and with the resolution Never to dally longer with the evil. Why stay I here like to a servile bondman And look to death alone to gain deliverance And thus to culminate my life of folly? How many of my father's hired servants Have bread enough and more, while I am starving. I left a good land for a land uncertain, Shall I not leave this famine stricken country For that good land where labor is rewarded, Since for a time, at least, I needs must labor, Perchance my father will receive my service, How sweet to work within that dear old vineyard Though I should labor as a common servant, 24 How sweet to see the kind face of my father Although he speaks to me no word paternal, How sweet to be among those dear kind people, To enjoy their converse and with them to worship. I will arise and go, oh, sweet deliverance ! Far from this land of hateful reminiscence I would depart although my course was hindered By the Arch Fiend, supported by his angels. The way is long, and I shall pass through perils Before I reach my home and destination, But I would go, though brooks were swelled to torrents, Though sloping hills were changed to craggy mountains, Although the valleys all were arid deserts And wilder and far fiercer were the people, I would surmount all things or die attempting. I will arise and go unto my father, Footsore and naked I shall come into his presence And I will say while I am fallen prostrate, u Father I've sinned against High Heaven most grievous, Thou seest thyself my shame and degradation. Call me not Son, for I am all unworthy, But make me, if thou wilt, thy hired servant, And thou shalt find that I will serve thee faithful. I will arise and go ; I have a future In which to make amends for all my folly, And I may bless God in no far off distance That He has laid His hand on me correcting. 25 THE YOUTH OF DAVID..., HPHE sun was set behind Judea's hill, His parting rays just laved the woody heights And with mild halo kissed the world good night. Then came the shepherds with their bleating trains To their rude folds. Their sheep they marked As one by one they enter in, then each The entrance bars secure, and watching still Abide with them by night. High on those rugged hills, the shepherds led Their flocks ; deep in the solitude where foot Of man sought not to penetrate save when The grass failed on the parched slopes below. For their flocks' welfare they must needs forego The frequent social mingling of their kin And kind, and seek companionship (Since man Must find an ear to listen to his words,) With their own flocks, calling the sheep by name, And with their faithful sympathizing dogs, Or when the tempest caused the hills to quake And the gnarled oak to fall within its path, Or when the countless stars shone in the sky Or the round moon walked its majestic height, Communed as Nature's sons with Nature's God And worshipped and adored that hand Divine Whose power they recognized, Whose presence felt, Although His attributes were dimly known. Though rude in culture and uncouth in dress, Bronzed by the Summer's heat and Winter's cold, Judea's youth oft made her hills resound With seng and shout, with pipe and harp, 26 Accompanied, perchance, with thoughts of God, But yet who failed, for want of words to sing His praise with psalm and hymn or speak the strange Emotions of the human heart as the Soul sought to rest, e'en as a lamb in peace, Watched fondly by a tender shepherd's care. But there was one who played the harp that night Whom God was training to unlock man's speech And give him words to worship and adore His Maker, which the soul of man demands And 'till then only free. Unconscious of his powers or God's decree Concerning him, the youthful David led His father's sheep by day, and faithful to His trust, abode with them by night, Youngest of all his father's sons, and scarce Remembered as a son at all, more like A servant to the man and sons, he was Deputed to the solitary hills, While his tall brothers followed in the wars. As David foldward led his flock that night Followed by all the simple happy train, His boyish step assumed a measured tread And his bright eyes a more imperial look, He was a victor marching to his camp, — His flock, an army filled with valiant men. The rude fold, nearing, soon his dream dispelled And his scant supper gathered from the fields Touched him as if he was an outlawed chief. No hope for him, no means whereby to serve His God or king. Philistia kept the field 27 And he must live a feeder, only, of the silly sheep, Then his tears fell and desolation reigned Supreme. But now his harp he took, The harp that oft Had soothed him in his solitude ; and his Light hands but touched the strings, when music such As David's harp alone could wake and such As Angels love, trembled a moment on The dewey air ; then all was still, and calm His soul. Resigned, he waited only God's behest, And hoped in Him alone. But hark ! This is not pipe nor harp nor voice From human throat, that sends a tremor o'er Those craggy hills. The lion roaring stalks Abroad for prey, the wolf growls fierce as he Pursues the deer, the deer pursued swift As the winds doth fly, the owl upon the cliff Complains, and the lone heron following, sobs And sighs. How many a time had David held those beasts At bay ! How many a time had scaled those cliffs Fearless as the most reckless thing that climbs Or flies, and slew the bold intruder e'en Within his lair, and snatched from him the prey. But now as he recalled his many strange Escapes from danger, and appalling death, He felt no strength nor might of his had slain The growling bear, nor eye of his had led His feet aright in his adventures 'mong Those caverned hills. 'Twas God, the God of Jacob surely was His God, He had redeemed his soul from death His feet from falling and his eyes from tears — 2 8 Then heavenward raised his eyes, and with firm voice He vowed, " Before Jehovah I will walk Through all the days that He shall give me life." A wonderous scene was that Which met the upturned eyes of the fair youth. The deep blue of the cloudless sky hung like A canopy above the hills, jeweled With countless orbs that flashed and sparkled from Their distant spheres ; far, far away in that Mysterious realm of space. "Vast are His works," he mused, " O, then how great Must that Creator be Who fills not Earth alone But Whose law governs the most distant spheres, Who holds the heavens aloft, an easy thing ! The Earth His handiwork declares, but the High heavens His majesty and power supreme, And what is man ? How small a thing he is ! A mote, yea less, when he is measured by The Universe. — And yet how great when he Is measured by God's love concerning him, But little lower than the cherubim With glory crowned, with honor still sustained, Yea visited by God all for man's good, While he, rebellious, spurned his righteous laws And prized His mercies as of little worth. — He, He alone is good ! And excellent His name O'er all the earth." Oft when in later years King David sat upon his throne, secure, And fed his people Israel like a flock, And all was prosperous in his prudent reign, He dwelt in rapture on his shepherd life, — 29 The canopy of gold above his throne. •„ Was not so glorious as the open heavens Nor rich perfumes brought far by princely hands So sweet as fragrance of uncultured flowers. No safer felt he with his mailed guards Than when alone, far from all human eyes, And then, — when friends proved false and recre- ant to Their trusts, and earthly goods proved frail, he longed To fly, swift to the solitude, away From cursings and away from cares. The same high courage David showed in war And the same prudence of his regal reign And the same constancy unto his friends And the same reverence for his God in Heaven He had evinced on Bethlehem's hills, before He thought of sword, or crown, or throne. He was a child of Nature. Nor could camp Nor court lessen his love for Nature in Her ruder forms. His psalms attest this fact ; The God of Israel trained him for his work That he might speak for Israel not alone, But for all tribes and clans, peoples and tongues, The varied feelings of the human heart. JACOB AT BETHEL A ND Jacob left his home and went toward Haran. Fear lent the exile wings with which to fly From his fierce brother's wrath. No pause he made In his swift haste, although the way was wild, Till the sun set behind Mount Ephraim's heights, And shades of night hung heavy on the plain (A fitting cover from his wary foe). Then took he stones for pillows for his head And laid him down in that place for to sleep. But sleep, the follower of the quiet mind, Of him of even, uneventful life, Came not, as when a herder of his flocks He lay himself beneath some spreading tree And easy walked the land Forgetfulness. But now he writhed upon his stony couch As the slow hours dragged wearily along. At length he spoke, venting his grief in words, "And has it come to this, I am become An exile and a vagrant in the earth? Home, Home, thou blessed name ! How much I loved That fair, fresh land, in which my years have sped. Pleasant to me my simple homely toil, Pleasant my simple fare from flock and field, Pleasant to me the voice that called me 'Son,' Her gentle eye watched well my untrained feet, A friend, protector, counsellor in one. There did I dwell content nor cared to roam. Fair land! I see thee now invested with a charm That makes each mean and homely object fair, And thy fair scenes, O how exceeding fair ! How can I leave thee, Eden, in thy bloom, Leave all those scenes in which my heart is bound, And wander friendless to an unknown land ? 3 1 How the slow hours will drag their lengths along ! The days reluctant add them unto months, The months to years, yet bring to me no hope. Fierce is my brother's wrath ; that fire will burn With unabated fury through the years Till he shall find and slay me with his hand. "And how shall I in that far land commence Anew the work of life, with my possessions gone, Save this poor staff, reminder of my woes ? What can I hope to gain through years of toil Save the poor lengthening of a worthless life, Rich only in the thoughts of by-gone days ? Who there will cheer me as I, brooding, pine On my sad state, or help me with a smile ? To God I cannot look, for there their gods Are idol gods, made by the hand of man From things of earth, and impotent to help. I cannot speak to Heaven and there be heard, For the great God, Jehovah, Abraham's God, Isaac, my father's God and father's friend, Is there unsought, and he is there unknown. How shall the blessing promised me so late In me be now fulfilled ? How shall God give To me the dew of Heaven, the fatness of The earth, plenty of corn and wine ? How shall the people serve, the nations bow To me ? How shall I e'er become lord o'er My mother's sons, and they bow down to me? How cursed shall he become who curses me, And blessed be he whom I shall please to bless ? Dark seems my future ! Dark Thy ways, O God! My heart is sick, my hope has wholly fled, — Now sleep comes o'er me ! Would that sleep were death." 33 He slept, he dreamed, and lo ! a ladder set Upon the earth, the top reached unto Heaven, And thereupon angels of God went up And down. And lo ! the Lord above it said, " I am Jehovah, God of Abraham, Thy father ; I, even I, am Isaac's God. The land whereon thou liest, to thee I give. And to thy seed ; and they shall be e'en as The dust of earth, and thou shalt spread abroad Unto the west, and to the east, and to The north, and to the south ; in thee and in Thy seed shall the whole earth be blessed. And lo ! I am with thee and I will keep Thee in all places whither thou dost go, And I will bring thee back again unto This land. I will abide with thee till all Has been fulfilled." And Jacob waked from sleep, and wondering said, " Surely the Lord is in this place, although I knew it not." And he was sore afraid And said, " How dreadful is this place ! This is None other than the house of God, and this The gate of Heaven." Then Jacob rose while yet The morn was young, and set his pillow for A pillar up, anointing it with oil ; And which became a mentor speaking through The distant years, of God's great mercy To his well beloved. And Jacob vowed a vow : " If God will be With me, and keep me in the way I go, If He will kindly give me bread to eat And raiment to put on ; so that I come Again unto my father's house in peace, Then shall the Lord be evermore my God, 33 And this same stone which for a pillar stands Shall be God's house, and of His gifts to me A tenth of all I will return to Him. "I now will go my way unto that land To dwell among the people of the East. The way will open for me as I pass, For One will guide me Who will never err. No danger need I fear, nor man, nor beast Can have power o'er me though they purpose ill, Because the Lord, even the Most High God Will be around me for my good. Joy may be mine while in that land I dwell, Compared with which past happiness were tame. Have they not human hearts that will respond With fervor to the stranger of their kin ? Is there not one — my parents will it so, I think it is God's will, and for this cause I am led hence — that I should take a wife Who will become the happy mother of A race elect. Will not the rapture of That new-found love dispel the bitterness Of broken ties, and make the years, though long And filled with toil, pass by on silken wings So swift that many years will seem but a few days ? " I go my way, poor as to earthly goods ; The veriest beggar is as rich as I, But He Who formed all creatures by His word Still claims the wild beasts of the forests His, And all the cattle on a thousand hills. He makes the vine to grow and yield her fruit, The young corn stands dependent on his power, And shall not He in Whom all fullness dwells, Dispense His bounties as it seemethgood ? 34 He wills and brings down princes from their seats, And He exalts the lowly to the throne, He makes His favored flourish in their ways Despite the schemes and plotting of all foes. Perchance in that far land to which I go, The Lord will bless me richly in my ways, And show me many a token of His love, An earnest of the glories to be mine." THE MONK OF ST. AGNES Q THOU Who art the Truth, the Way, Forgive my erring thoughts I pray. I am so ignorant and weak, Some token of Thy love I seek. that these eager eyes of mine Could see Thy glorious face divine, Or that Thy hand on me were laid And voice could hear, " Be not afraid." 1 fain would follow at Thy side, And near Thee would be satisfied. Canst Thou not in Thy grace arise, And draw the vail 'twixt earth and skies ? One glance of that fair heavenly scene Would make my spirit calm, serene. I still shall wait with hope and fear Till Thou Who art my Life appear. 35 SABBATH BELLS T HEAR the church bells ringing This pleasant Sabbath day ; They call to praise and worship, I hasten to obey. Welcome the joyful tidings That church spires still arise, And bells in sweeter concord Ring underneath all skies. Praises in fullest measure To Thee, O God, belong Through bells and deep-toned organs And all the wealth of song. Welcome the blessed Sabbath, The one best day of days, When Earth comes nearest heaven In service, rest and praise. 36 AFTER A NEIGHBOR'S ACCIDENT r I *HE world is full of dangers, Lord, Some case each day I see, I know not when the hour will come Thy hand will fall on me. First I would thank Thee for this life, The wondrous life I live, And all the blessings of the past Thou hast vouchsafed to give. And I would thank Thee for the pain, For every want and ill, For they have made, not marred my life, I trust unto Thy will. Each day I would begin with trust And leave with Thee the close, Whether I make my bed in pain Or Thou dost grant repose. So would I dwell secure in Thee, In Thee find my repose, Humble amidst Thy favoring smile, Undaunted midst life's woes. 37 IF THERE HAD BEEN NO CHRIST TF there had been no Christ How dark the world had been, Dark in its social life As well as dark in sin. Then had we never known The Christian Sabbath day With all its joy and peace In many a helpful way. We never should have known The merry Christmas morn With all its glee and gifts, If Christ had not been born. Nor Easter with its flowers, Close after winter's prison, With palms and glad acclaim, Had not our Lord arisen. We sing His songs in grief, We sing His songs in mirth, We sing the songs of Christian hope With the last rites of earth. The social ties that bind us here To Christ for Whom we've striven, Doth make this world a paradise, The anteroom of Heaven. 38 THE RESURRECTION O THOU the Christ, now on Thy throne exalted Above all heights of every name and power, Wilt Thou accept from us our poor oblation, Yet of our best, on this glad Easter hour. We think to-day of that great condescension From the abode of Bliss to realms of Earth, And all the toil and grief thereto pertaining, Yet freely borne, and of that humble birth. We think of that sweet life, so pure and sinless, Of those kind acts, through every passing hour, Of loftiest thoughts that were before unspoken, Of gentlest words to sinful ones, and poor. And last of all, and final consummation, The life He gave for an unthankful world, Who shrank not though the cross rose just before Him, Though taunts and jeers should at His name be hurled. He gave His life — and all the air was darkened, And on the earth fell universal gloom, W 7 hile but a few, only a few disciples Unnailed the form and bore it to the tomb. But on the third day, when His friends, disheart- ened, Came early to bring spices to the tomb, They found the great stone rolled away by angels, Within they found nought but an empty room, 39 Save those bright forms that often hover near us, But seen perchance more oft in grief '6r prison, Who said, "Weep not, His friends, or be disheart- ened, Behold ! The Lord ye seek for is arisen." Many a day the loved disciples saw Him, Many an earnest talk of future work was given, And with His last words in a benediction Arose above the clouds ascending Heaven. i & And there He dwells ! and He will dwell forever, Not less intent then erst the world to save, And He will have His wish and reign triumphant As He arose triumphant o'er the grave. 40 ■* ll ' l " . GLORIA IN EXCELSIS CUCH love as Thou hast shown This world had never known, That thou mightest save Thine own, Jesus, our Lord. That from Thy throne of light Invested with all might, Thou didst forego Thy right As King Supreme. And came to Earth abase That thou mightest win the race From its most woful case Made by the " Fall." Yea, earnest to Earth and died, Wast scorned and crucified, Then entered glorified Thy throne of yore. Thy work has been well done, The centuries as they run Proclaim the peerless One Of woman born. Therefore we join the song With all the Heavenly throng, And would the notes prolong " Worthy the Lamb." 4i IN PORT "f-J OW strange it seems ! How wondrous queer In a world so large, we should find ourselves here. Tossed to and fro by the tempest drear, This haven we've found and safety here, Buoyed on these waters calm and clear We'll shape well our course ere we go from here. To Duties' cause our course we will steer, Where Conscience points when we sail from here. We must go anon, we have much to fear This is no haven to winter, here. But ere we go we shall shed a tear When we say 'good-bye ' to the kind friends here. And then, when the day is bright and clear And the wind wails we will launch from here. And unto the deep with all good cheer Will commit ourselves as we loose from here. Hoping a deeper port we may near And broader bays than these are here. For One is our Father ever dear Who will bear us away, Who bore us here. 42 THE SNOW AS I saw the snow flakes coming down Spreading a mantle o'er all the town A mantle of white on all below My heart rejoiced for the falling snow. Changed was the dingy dusty street To a carpet of purity 'neath the feet And brown bare fields exposed to view Were covered all with stainless snow. The patient earth defaced and torn Cursed for man's sake — what hath it borne Thistle and thorn alike lie low, Over them gathers the falling snow. Beauty and purity ! sweetest of words That the language of man affords Where in the wide, wide world would I go That all should be pure and fresh as the snow. Our hearts we must carry where we stray And read our thoughts from day to day We may not hide them from our view Lay them oblivious, 'neath the snow. Send to me Lord, the gentle rain To wash my heart from every stain Cleanse me not, cover my sins from view Lest passions melt the garb of snow. The snows will come and melt away Beneath the sun's refulgent ray, While the new life will ever glow Purer and whiter than the snow. 43 THE BELOVED HpHROW open, throw open the window And here the sweet sunlight we'll bring, With the breeze from over the meadow Fresh with the odors of Spring. In death I see nought of terror, Or ghostly the way to the tomb, The way from this world to another Is but as a step from a room. Her nature tender and trusting, Ever gentle and fragile and fair, She met the dark angel confiding The untried journey to share. Her heart overflowing with goodness Gushed forth from its fullness within, She could walk with the vile and the sinful And take no pollution from sin. O ! Earth I love thee the better, That here may be found on the sod With us and bearing our nature, The finer touch of our God. Peace follow her ! gentlest of maidens, Her pathway leads to the tomb, Without stain, tarnish or ruffle, A blossom plucked in full bloom. 44 THE SAILING OF THE WHITE SWAN HP HE White Swan left the harbor, A goodly ship was she, And with her colors flying Stood proudly out to sea. Again we said our farewells From ship and from the shore, We bade them bear our greetings To friends the ocean o'er. Their faces beamed, how brightly, Health was every vein, Our friendships had been pleasant, Our parting without pain. Again they signalled farewell] Their faces lost to view, We waved them back a farewell, It was our last adieu. We heard sweet strains of music Come with the breaker's roar, The voice of peace and triumph, — Life had so much in store. The god of day rolled lower, His level rays sent back, Then wheeled beneath the water Right in the vessel's track. O wonderous transformation ! That pen hath never told — - The sheen, the gilding, glory, The wealth of gem and gold 45 That overspread the landscape ; The clouds, the sky, the sea f The mountains felt the presence And every shrub and tree. We saw the White Swan sailing, Her topmasts in the clouds, And all her sails were lambent, And all her masts and shrouds. We saw the clouds divided Close to the water's crest, And saw the good ship enter The country of the blessed. We saw the heavenly city, The streets were paved with gold, And therein saw the Temple And riches manifold. Then forms appeared less brightly, Fair scenes were lost to view, But safe we knew was anchored The White Swan with her crew. The White Swan left the harbor Ten years ago and more, But never since has anchored On any earthly shore. Friends waited, hungered, sickened, There never came a word, The ocean keeps the secret, Perchance some ocean bird. I think of them translated Like that good man of old, And entering Heaven and Glory All in a flame of gold. 4 6 THE CHILD'S VIEW OF AUTUMN 1IJ0W fierce the wild wind shakes the trees ! Out in the storm to-day, How wearily the blast sweeps by ! The wild scene startles me. Mother, this seems not like the world The Spring's sun shone upon, The time of green leaves, birds and flowers When babbling waters run. Not one sweet wild flower can be found, Turn whiche'er way I will, Through cultured fields or densest wood, On hillside or by rill. But yesterday the sun shone forth Unclouded from his throne, The sky wore not an angry look, No gale was heard to moan. Perhaps, I thought, the frogs do pipe Down by the willow tree, And wild with joy are welcoming Spring's first sweet glorious -day. I hied me to the same rude seat, The same moss covered stone Where long I listened in sweet spring By the wild wood alone. No sound whate'er did greet my ear No life sound from the pool, Nor ripple rose or bubble broke, All silent and dull and cool. 47 At night instead of pleasant sounds Wild cries come from the wood, And savage yells and piercing screams, Curdling my very blood. What means it that the somber calms Like that of yesterday, So soon give place to driving storms Wide over land and sea ? Why is it that the leaves turn pale And then fall to the ground, And all the fields look brown and bare Where green did once abound ? My cage bird sings not half so sweet, His plumage not so gay, — I know if he were free to roam He too would fly away. Death, Death has thorough done his work, All things are in decay, Gloom settles over all the land Silence on all I see. But yet you say the spring will come And leaves grace every tree, And flowers spring fragrant from the ground And soft winds from the sea. In this I dare not trust the thought, — I can not now believe In brighter or in better days, However long I live. 4 8 Since all Earth's loveliest forms are hid Far from my searching eye, Were it not that you love me so I too would wish to die. I cannot fathom this great world, Too intricate and deep, I'm lost ere I can trace it through, I'm weary and would sleep. RESPONSE CLEEP, thou young warbler, As innocent and pure as they, whose well Remembered songs thou longest so much to hear. Sleep on, my sweet, and fairies guard thy rest, Bring to thy mind visions of peace and joy, Of summer's rosy form, verdant with leaves, Of waving fields stirred by refreshing gales, And flowers, the sweet wild flowers, O strew them by The brooklet's bank, — there would I lay the scene, My child's resort, — make the clear waters laugh, Kissing the narrow banks, while far and near From the soft grass to mighty forest trees, From the low marsh to the surrounding hills, Comes up the voice of song and melody, — Yea, all, all living things tune your best songs And in one grand and swelling chorus join. " Fear not, sweet maid, we will ere long come back Speed in our wings and joy in every track." 49 To-night, no doubt, in far off southern climes The feathered tribes hold their gay festivals, 'Neath skies as mild, 'mong fields as freshly robed In their attire of green, as ours in May. They have no fear of the great storms that range Tumultuously our hills and devastate The plains. They had escaped, yea, happily Had left ere the first omen of the storm Glowered in the west, while yet the air was warm And the tame winds but lightly stirred the leaves. Wondrous the instincts in God's humble hosts To serve their ways of life. How know the new Fledged birds that safety lay in flight to lands Remote? Who points to them, so sure, the way In the dark night and under cloudy heavens, A land congenial to each lowly life ? I stand before Thee awed, O Thou unfathomed One Who leadest birds Aright, and hast a place for the repulsive newt In Thy great scheme of life. And yet with all Thy care and pride of works, — Thou didst pro- nounce All good — O why ? Why all this death in life ? The fairest forms and best are not immune From the fell Reaper with his sickle keen. Like thee, my child, I fail and stumbling fall E'en at the threshold, when I'd find out God. His ways are in the sea ; and in dark clouds His purposes are hid. Yet I would rest content in the strong arms Of Love, assured that had I higher powers I'd know that an Eternal Spring will come And all be well. 5o BE THOU A SONG BIRD To HpHERE is an ancient legend A That the Christ Child, one day Made in His play a song bird Out of the common clay. Then in His eager rapture Bade it arise with song, And cheer the fields and hamlet Through all the Summer long. A child of the same Father, Brother of that dear Son, Thou mayest do work as mighty As the Christ Child has done. Make of thyself a song bird In this thy human clay, To sing in Summer's sunshine And in bleak Winter's day. The world needs much of brightness Of innocence and song, Of gentleness and kindness Amidst its sin and wrong. CHERISH THE BEAUTIFUL \\7"E toil from day to day through all our years Where'er we wander, whither we are led How many an anxious thought we give ! How many tears O'er the great problem "How shall we be fed," While little thought we give and little care For the rich treasures round us everywhere In this world beautiful. We see the rich grass grow, and waving grain, We see our sleek herds as they graze, afield, And look upon them with an eye for gain And pride ourselves on an excessive yield Of such material things, the fair scene We prize too little when our hills are green, The landscape beautiful. See with what grace kind Nature clothes the trees, How numberless, and gorgeous are the flowers, How gay and lively all the birds and bees As they flash forth among the leafy bowers, Why all this wealth of color, grace and song Through all the long days of the Summer long But for the beautiful ? Shall we with all the world around us fair With tastes responsive, if we will behold, Give all our time, and energy and care To gain our bread ? or baser still, our gold While the kind Author bids us but look up And He will pour rich sweets into our cup, Even the Beautiful. Not at the first will He the chalice fill. Things of rare worth, come only through the years, But we may daily quaff sweet draughts, and still Find the cup filling, sparkling, while it cheers, This is the draught, for which the sages sung To make the young face fair, and old age ever young. The Pure and Beautiful. Come then worn toiler, muckworm of the ground Look to the hills, and higher, still, the skies, Yea, in your labors, ever look around Think, thou, the thoughts of Him, the Great All-wise Who made the world, and all within it good Not all for raiment for mankind, and food, But made all beautiful. AUTUMN LEAVES pLOWERS of the fading year! Since other flowers, Children of sunshine and the showers are gone, Their petals closed, ere the imperious storm Beat in wild fury o'er their quiet bowers. These will I bind, and they may well adorn Those rooms that in soft Summer hours Were graced with blossoms of the mead and lawn. (Much do I prize them and adore their power — ) Thrice are these welcome, since that frosts and storms Bring out the riches of their varied dye, And pictured Time with lean and stooping form Improves, then mars them as he passes by. Well for our lives if they may still glow warm And grow more beauteous ere we fall and die. S3 A STROLL I AM in from a stroll this morning Through woodland and flower-decked grove, Where I dwelt on the glories pertaining To spring, the sweet season of love. Ah! many a gem of wisdom Have I learned in those sylvan bowers, Even birds are charming instructors, We may learn from ferns, mosses and flowers. In those rambles the thoughts turn upward Unto Him Who made them, above, To the giver of all our mercies, E'en to God, the fount of all love. TO DR. POND {A Sonnet) T-l ONOR to him, and peace his ways attend Who, when his step was firm and arm was strong, Fought for the right and e'er opposed the wrong And lived and labored for a noble end, Who, while life's candle now more dimly burns, Whose failing powers of solemn days portend, Yet for the good with the same ardor yearns As w r hen he fought and when he did contend. They who build well will see their work survive When they do rest them from their arduous toil And see their work advanced, and others strive Until the structure rises fair and tall. Long may our leader live with strength to pray For that good cause he prospered in his day. 54 AT THE SEPULCHRE r\EAR mother, since thy resting place Will be henceforth in Earth's embrace, This calm and pleasant spot Shall be the one for which we yearn, The one to which our thoughts will turn Till all else is forgot. With filial hands we rear the stone That marks this place so much our own, Through all the coming years, While pain and loss shall mark our way Onward, unto our dying day, Joy not unmixed with tears. May Heavenly angels guard thy rest And gentlest, kindliest forms and best By thee be felt and heard. And thou awaken from thy sleep So gentle, so profound and deep, At the first falling word. Those gentle hands, or weak, or strong, Have labored for us all so long, So well, as child and man. While love was wrought in every seam, And true love prompted every dream, And tempered every plan. While we, unthinking oft, and rude, In every phase of childish mood Grew lithesome, glad and strong, And made the dear old farm house ring With song ; for we were born to sing. — Glad and spontaneous song ! 55 O, precious days ! O golden years ! „ How sweet, how blissful all appears ! Our own dear childhood's home. While ever foremost in the scene There stands Her Majesty, the Queen, Her loyal kingdom come. Broken that paradise. Long since have none Only the stranger, trod the old hearthstone. But the loved dead remain, And some kind neighbors that we loved of old. The church is here that gathered in the fold — The mountain, lake and plain. Sleep midst the scenes thou ever lovedst the best, Calm thy repose and plentiful thy rest, Waiting until the morn ; Till He Who comes in lightning from the skies Shall call, and every saint asleep will rise As unto life new-born. A NOVEMBER EVENING T HE shades of night fall early, The clouds are cold and gray, A pall of mist comes sweeping Out from old ocean's way. The mist that palls the landscape Casts on my heart a gloom, And shadowy forms seem sweeping Out from old ocean's tomb. Thou who by time made dearer My chosen one, my bride, Come, when the storm clouds gather, More closely to my side. Come, but come not with music, For me it hath no charm To chase away the shadows Or medicine or balm. Come, but come not with converse Or gentle, grave or gay, Thy voice, sweet as the throstle's, I would not hear to-day. Come with your fond caresses And place a hand in mine, And soothe this throbbing temple Near the good heart of thine. Then let the storm clouds gather, Or mists or phantoms ride, I'll rest amidst the tumult Of earth and oceantide. 57 DETHRONED npO-DAY the good farm passes Into a stranger's hands, The house, the barns, the meadows, And all the pleasant lands. The good home rendered sacred By many a thousand tie, — I leave it all too quickly, With a tear I have said " good bye." To-day I have looked my farewell On the fair scenes, one by one, Nor ceased in the sad leave taking Until the setting sun Sank low behind the mountains And twilight cast a gloom, When Earth seemed full of shadows Earth's flowers without perfume. Twelve years ago this morning We made this place our home, The landscape smiled upon us And the sun from heaven's blue dome. A home, a home in the country ! Away from the city's strife, To dwell near the heart of Nature, That seemed for us most of life. And so we bought the old farm Soon after we were wed, — John who was bred a scholar, And I who was gently bred. 58 And here we poured our savings, — A good round pile of gold, — The house was old and rumbling, The meadow wet and cold. But we built, removed, remodelled, Till our ideal stood, Then we gazed with pride upon it And called it very good. And John subdued the meadow With many sturdy blows, Till all the land's a garden And blossoms as a rose. The bills, they came upon us As fierce wolves for their prey, But we smote the foremost of them And kept the rest at bay. 'Twas work, but our hearts were youthful, And we ever paid our dues, Lessened the mortgage yearly, Bought some good things to use. Some books of the standard authors Some music that we loved, Some magazines and papers, To tell how the great world moved. And so we loved and labored, By slow degrees we rose, — Not o'er crushed hearts and bleeding, Not over fallen foes. One day the firm step faltered, And ere we were aware, No human skill could save him, No tenderness or care. 59 For as the sun sinks downward, u Swift in the crimson west, So sank his strong form downward, Unto the grave — and rest. He died as the warrior dieth, With his armor buckled on, In the midst of life's great battle, The victory almost won. He fought with as great a valor As those who have gained a crown,- His life was as pure and noble As Arthur's of old renown. And yet he has died unnoticed, And will forgotten sleep, Save by a few, — his dear ones, — Perhaps it's for this I weep. Bloom, flowers in the fields around him, Sing, birds in the trees above, Little he'll need men's plaudits If only he have your love. And I, like poor Carlotta, And Eugenia the fair, Shall leave my home and empire In grief but not despair. For George I must train a scholar, And trust that he will choose An easier, gentler calling, Where merit has its dues. 60 . ARE THEY NOT MINISTERING SPIRITS? fOME, angels, pure in garments white, And bide around this couch to-night. The sufferer labors on his way And may not reach another day. Beyond our aid our boy has gone And walks the untried way alone. Come, then, swift messengers of light And let him feel your presence bright. Let him recline on some fond breast And find a solace there and rest. And — if the soul shall leave the clay Go with it on its heavenward way. TO MY WIFE it DEC. 25, 1898 IVTY love to thee I bring On this glad Christmas tide, A richer, truer love Than offered thee, a bride. E'en then I thought I knew, — But only knew in part, — The meekness of thy mind, The graces of thy heart. I thought I knew thy love, — But then not understood That love so pure, so strong, Seen in best womanhood. That love has been my boon Through all the passing years, Warm as the orbs of light And constant as the spheres. In it I've found my rest, My comfort and repose, 'Neath adverse winds of fate And all the storms that rose. Thy love has made me strong To suffer and endure, Sure of one loyal heart, If need be, doubly sure. Pain, dear, has been thy lot So much ! through all the years, But cheery words were thine, And smiles, instead of tears. 62 A life so pure and sweet, Unselfish and serene, Is rare in human form, Thy peer I have not seen. Such lives may tell, I ween, More for their Savior Lord Than many active years With voluble word. So ever live and love As the dear Lord has willed, Thy task when done meseems, Shall have been will fulfilled. 63 IN MEMORIUM, — HOSEA DOTON ONCE when a sage, who was about to die Reviewed his life work, in the days gone by, — Thought on his hopes, his labors, cares and fears That came on trooping to him, through the years — Thought on some good deeds that his hands had done And of more efforts scarcely but begun ; — Bewailed the limitation of his powers, Wept for the opposition to the good that towers So prominent within the lives of men, And makes one's efforts often seem in vain. And then — "Oh, no, 'tis not a grand career The blare of which doth reach the dullest ear That is a test of worth ! A loving heart Prompting the man to do his every part In life, in sweet submission to that Hand That placed him here, and Who his life's work planned, He, he, though humble, he shall be the one To be yet cheered by the glad words ' Well done.' If friends shall o'er my mound some marble raise To tell when I was born and length of days, Chisel no deeds of mine that I have done, They seem so small, viewed in life's setting sun, Engrave this only with the iron pen Beneath my name : ' He loved his fellow men.' " Upon another marble soon to rise We trust in fair proportion to the skies, Tribute to his true worth, yet once again Write o'er that gentle heart and teeming brain Now hushed in death, his name and length of day, And when he came and when he went away ; 64 Write o'er his grave, for it is true again We knew him, all — "He loved his fellow men.' Add but one line in simple justice moved Sculptor add " By whom he was beloved." His name we cherish who on life's highway- Travels the even tenor of his way, His eye fixed wisely on the wished for end, But who will stop ofttimes that he may lend Aid to the weaker ones, now pushed along And crushed too oft by the unfeeling throng, They save their lives in sacred memories' shrine Who give their lives in acts of love sublime, They loose their lives who flying do contend With flying men to gain the better end. What shall I say of him we held so dear? Is there a fitter tribute than a tear? As I look backward through my falling tears, Back through the flight of the revolving years, 1 see him, still, the calm and thoughtful man Guiding his pupils in a pathway plain, Teaching them well and ably from the book, And still impressing them with that wise look. I've travelled, somewhat, in the world since then And seen full many of our foremost men, Studied with those who easily will stand Among the foremost teachers of the land, But of the many faces I have seen I know no kindlier or more thoughtful mien. 65 I know full well that to the untaught mind Things trivial, small, and of the meanest kind Seem great unto the vision. E'en a few Square leagues of land, and the o'erarching blue Seems a great world ! The hills of awful height, His burg a mighty mart, and in his sight The low red schoolhouse set upon a hill The highest type of architectural skill, While the mere tyro who doth hold the rule The wisest head that ever taught a school. But there are those who're born and reared in sight Of some bold mountain's wildest, dizziest height. And there are those whose youthful feet are led By those of gentlest heart and clearest head. The first will find that wheresoe'er they roam No grander views than in their childhood's home, The others' hearts, where'er their feet may wend, Will still go back to teacher and to friend. A certain orator of ancient fame, And his will ever be a classic name, Urged upon all who'd think and talk sublime To give a goodly portion of his time In contemplation of celestial things, And the wise Tully bids the thought take wings Oft to the heavens above ; that thus the mind Become more broadened, and be less confined, And such will think and act, that sage declares " Grander and abler in all life's affairs," So will the man be more and more in soul With Him Who guides the Universal Whole. 66 So came he by that grand and thoughtful mien That all observers surely must have seen, And by his step ; as if his feet had trod Within the secret chambers of his God, So by his words that strangely would inspire Within the minds of youth, ambition's fire, So came he by his love to the great God And all his creatures on terrestrial sod, And so his faith, submissive and resigned To the All-Wise and All-Controllmg mind. His eyes are closed, and evermore that great And noble heart will cease to palpitate, But yet his influence will long remain Upon the lives and characters of men. 6 7 CHARLES HENRY VAUGHAN AND there has passed us in the great procession A rare and blameless life, — Serene and brave amidst all life's allotments — Calm in a world of strife. Yet was his life not one of mere retirement, A recluse with his pen, Who, from the loop holes of his study window, Looked on his fellow men. He walked with men ; and constant intermingled In many business ways, So delicate, that e'en an inadvertance With some, would cause a blaze. He did the work that was committed to him With conscientious zeal, And though his duties made him seem exacting All those who knew him, feel That he was lenient in the fullest measure And kind beyond compare, That many a burden that belonged to others, Himself did freely bear. His sympathies were large and all embracing Where'er his knowledge ran, And quick was he to further enterprises That made for God and man. Yea, love, Love was the mainspring of his being, Through it he toiled and won, And gained through it our deepest, best affections Long ere his work was done. 68 OUR COUNTRY Bangor^ Dec. 8, 18/4. pTAPPY are we that on this day We breathe the air of liberty, Happy our stately flag unfurled Is honored over all the world. That peace and concord now prevail O'er all the land the giant flail Of iron hate no more, no more Threatening is raised on either shore. Land of our love ! Oh, who dare say What shall thy future glories be, When like a giant thou shalt stand In all thy strength and might ? A land Rich in her soil, various her climes, Rich in her quarries and rich in her mines. Within our bays great fleets may safely ride Bidding defiance to the wind and tide. While our broad rivers rolling to the seas Bear on their breasts rich freighted argosies, Or, when diverted from their natural course From over rocks, where erst their wild, hoarse And sullen cadences, revealed their power Turn great mill wheels nor seek an idle hour. If thou, my land, still in thy youthful band Mayest now among the proud old nations stand Erect, and now by force assert thy right, Who shall resist thee when in all thy might Some decades hence thou speakest? What nation stand Before such foes whether on sea or land. 69 Though we do lore thee, yet that love were vain Did we look only to fair hill and plain, Or to our lofty mountains forest crowned Or our rich mines deep underneath the ground, Or our long rivers or our tranquil bays Or growing cities or industrial ways. Not in great armies do we wish to boast Nor ships of war defiant on our coast, Nor in the teeming millions that shall be Should they be men unworthy to be free. Nature has lavished with as liberal hand Her gifts, perchance, on here and there a land As on our own : rich soil and genial skies, Here a fair vale, and there bold mountains rise, And yet no exile thither longing turns, Nor the oppressed, but for our land he yearns, Where loosed from shackles and from bondage free He may regain his heaven given liberty, Freedom to think and freedom to express His thoughts, and wrongs seek to redress, Freedom to rise and liberty to tower As high in social scale as kingly power, We welcome all, and give an open door To rich, the wise, the ignorant and poor, Welcome as brothers, that both we and they May ever dwell in closest sympathy, And may we seek unitedly to be Champions for truth and a large liberty. 7 o All honor, then, to those who toiled and prayed And the firm base of our Republic laid, Honor their principles as well as deeds, Honor their God, for we have yet their needs. The base our fathers laid must still remain, It has upheld us through the darkest rain, No vandal hand may bear a stone away Nor dare to touch one with impunity. We have our duties, a great work to do What was begun each age must still pursue, Train up our children in fair virtue's way, Teach them to value highly liberty, Teach all to fear and love their Heavenly King, Sing of His mercies, of His bounties, sing. So may our mines their richest treasures yield And our large harvests gladden every field, Our mill wheels whirl industrious through the day, And our large commerce whiten every sea, No sectional ailment to be redressed No brawls or mutinies to be repressed, Learning and Liberty and Law and Love Dwell in each hamlet wheresoe'er we move, Such, my loved Country thou shouldst ever be Until all nations pattern after thee. n NEW ENGLAND XTEW England ! Native hearthland ! The Pilgrim trodden West, The home of our forefathers, The soil in which they rest. Prayer hallowed land, I love thee With more than natal pride, As thou has been, forever Continue to abide. Nursery of men ! I give thee A title richly won, As brave, and true and noble, As e'er the world has known. I see her sons far scattered Wide over all the Land, And where they plant their footsteps They rise and firmly stand. Be it our joy forever To send the glad song forth, New England's sons are equal To the best men of earth. 72 - ■ ' — — Mi ^ NEW ENGLAND THE LAND OF THE PILGRIMS T~*HE northern air is crisp and clear, Deep lies the Winter snow, The leaden stars look grimly down On the bleak world below. A million homes now dot the land, With cheerful fires aglow, Nor reek we though the snow lies deep Or biting tempests blow. The blessings of a fruitful year From fertile farms are ours, Our barns and cellars burst with cheer The wealth of sun and showers. The school bell calls our children forth From every vale and hill, A ruddy, cheerful band they come To drink from learning's rill. Ten thousand churches, volumes speak, Their white spires rising high, Of love, and trust, and hope in Him Who dwells beyond the sky. I see our classic temples stand, Deep their foundations lie, The years but add new grace and strength As they go sweeping by. O prosperous people, happy state ! The nations wondering stand, How great and marvellous thy growth From that lone Pilgrim band. 73 They stepped upon our frozen scores Weary with long delay, Before them rose the cold gray wood, Behind them rolled the sea. They came, a few brave, humble souls, And on a new world trod, Rich, only in their zeal for Truth, And reverence for God. Think of that half-fed, half-clad band, Through those cold Winter days, Without protection from the storm And the fierce wild man's ways. Ah, many a sufferer lay down In his last sleep to lie, Ere the first mayflower oped its sweets And soft winds wafted by. Time passed ; and other vessels came That brought them friends and store, When homes were built and lands were tilled, And hope revived once more. Still, hardships ever were their lot And dangers evermore For adverse Fate seemed bent with Hate To drive them from the shore. Yet, midst their poverty and pain, Too dreadful e'en to view, The schoolhouse and the house of God With their own houses grew. 74 j-soMi Without the aid of kings or courts A nation 'gan to grow, That e'en an army could not stop, A kingdom overthrow. They went forth, weeping, sowing seed, Most precious seed they sowed, The children reap the golden fields Where'er the Pilgrim strewed. In cheerful homes, round blazing fires, Still let the tale be told, We cannot laud their deeds too high And virtues manifold. 75 VERMONT TO HER RETURNING CHILDREN CONS of Vermont returning From Fame's and Fortune's quest, Accept our kindly greeting, Come to our homes and rest. We've followed all your labors, We've joyed in each success, Our love for you is greater Than our best words express. You've made Vermont stand lustrous In all the land abroad, You've helped to swell the reverence For the Vermonter's God. You took right torches with you, Kindled from natal fires, With wills firm as our mountains, A zeal that never tires. We who remain behind you And keep the hearth fires bright — (That takes our best endeavors Our souls, our minds, our mights'.) Are glad of larger openings To Wealth, to Fame, to Power, In which our sons may enter, — Are entering every hour. And in return we ask you, For your good birth and dower, Not to forget your homeland But aid her in your power. 76 Aid her as you are able In things that make for Truth, Help to enlarge the vision Of those who are in youth. So shall Vermont stand peerless, The purest and the best Of all her brilliant sisters, The queen state of the West. AN ODE CTREW flowers o'er the fallen heroes, Sweet flowers, where the patriots lie, We prize the more their valor As each year passes by. We love the land they saved us Through toil, and pain, and tears, On battlefield, in prison, Through those four bloody years. We'll guard the land they left us, And the same flag they bore, We will defend as stoutly As those brave men of yore. 77 DEWEY AT MANILLA Q 'TWAS a famous fray, y On that fair morn in May, When Dewey won the day, In that old Spanish bay Of fair Manilla. When out of night arose A fleet of vengeful foes — Ready to give hard blows — His plan of battle chose In old Manilla. Then burst forth shot and shell, As from the mouth of Hell, With deadly aim and well, Till all Spain's colors fell In proud Manilla. Comrades if in the fray, For which we fight and pray, Peace comes with long delay, Remember Dewey's way In famed Manilla. 78 THE FAME OF WASHINGTON HpHERE stand the mountain peaks, huge massive piles That rise in grandeur, towering to the sky, Secure, majestic, calm, there they repose As the years flee and centuries pass by. But of those mighty peaks that wall the East, There stands serenely forth the noblest one, And all his fellows seem as dwarfed beside That grand old form ; the famed Mt. Washington. Like his great namesake, 'mong the eternal hills, Our annals bear no name, can hope for none Whose fame will rise as high, or rest as sure As that grand man's, the kingly Washington. 79 BOSTON JS^ LOVELY city by the sea, Mother and nurse of Liberty, So clean and active, strong and grand, How fair you look, how firm you scand. I love to walk in idle hours And view her bulwarks and her towers, And feel her great heart throb and beat With such vehement feverish heat. There grim and sullen stands a fort, One of the few that guard the port ; Their heavy guns trained far to sea And looking fierce and threateningly, While martial men train and parade Sanguine upon the esplanade. And there big warships anchored, sleep, Their giant forms upon the deep. — A word, and they will straightway fly Where men will dare, if need be, die. Here fleets of commerce anchored, lie, Their masts, a forest rising high, And busy men unload the store From all the world upon the shore, Or outward driven by steam or wind, A hundred craft of every kind, Do many a costly cargo bear To lands remote, or ports anear. The life, the joy, the zest I ween Makes fair an ever-changing scene. Hark, with a whistle, rush and roar, The steam cars halt upon the shore ; And from the gateway open wide Add ever to the human tide 80 That swirls and rushes through the street, A mass of eager, hurrying feet. — What had you done, — O Traffic, say ! Had you pursued your ancient way ? Had not your Titans launched forth Their transit schemes above the earth ? And later still, a mighty feat ! Planted the subway 'neath the street. Now freighted cars go dashing forth Upon, above, below the earth, And though the cars seem demon driven With all the aid of science given, The eager throngs would haste before To reach the office, home or store. Here massive stores contiguous lie And seem almost to reach the sky Their facades show the artist's hand And all that Wealth and Taste command, While costliest goods placed in display Dazzle the mind's eye e'en by day. I marvel as I see displayed Such evidence of mighty trade, — While ever more I see the flow Of men and women onward go, Earnest and purposeful and fair With graceful step, and high bred air. Great is New England's greatest mart, Let him be glad who bears a part, Yet 'tis not in the open street Wherein her mightiest forces meet, Within her walls and silently Is being wrought her destiny. AT THE MANUFACTORY r "pHIS is the factory, a fine large building Close by the river as we near the town, With its tall chimneys, still forever yielding Their clouds of smoke, from fires that go not down. I see the rushing of the mighty waters That leap the dam and hasten to the sea, And the pent stream, like Titan's sons and daughters, That turn the great wheels of the factory. I hear the murmuring of a mighty emprize, Of wheel and lathe, of hammer, forge and drill Now rising high then sinking lower, dies In pleasing cadences within the mill. I enter by the office and, before me See men with visions keen and high renown, The Captains of a mighty Industry Whose enterprise has largely made the town. I see the clerks engaged in correspondence With every state and lands beyond the sea, And can but note the system and concordance Of rapid figures and dexterity. I see the artisans with subtile fingers, Deft in their work with lathe and forge and drill. One well may pause and wonder as he lingers To see the product of consummate skill. And last of all, for man is more than metal, I note the fellow feeling and good will A rare kind influence so sweet, so subtile, That makes for harmony throughout the mill. 82 It is for this I praise you, great Employers, Who build so well in metal, wood and stone, That you are not of those who are destroyers Of them whose welfare is so near your own. Reach out your strong arms in the fields of Com- merce, And grasp new realms by courage, strength and skill, While your glad workmen still shall proudly re- hearse Their happy lots, whose homes are near the mill. 83 AFTER AN EVENING WITH LONGFELLOW C WEET be the rest of the poet Now that his work is done, Green be the grave where he lieth, He has the laurel won. 'Tis well the people crown him, And he will wear that crown As the years in a long procession Go steadily moving down. His tales of love and sorrow Will be read as the years go by, As long as the heart has pity And tears bedew the eye. We shall sing his gentle lyrics When the twilight settles round, While the heart is yearning, longing For the good it has not found. 'Tis well the children love him, How fain would he place their feet In pleasant paths and peaceful, And their lives should be pure and sweet. Ah, well he felt how keenly, That with mountain path and thorn, Too majny a foot were bleeding Out from the gate of morn. His tastes were the cultured scholar's, With a love for the pure and fair, But a somber form unbidden Oft sat by his study chair. We read, and shall read his poems, And well we may read the whole, They are tender, and sweet, and thoughtful, Though sad in their tone to the soul. 84 AMERICA TO KING EDWARD VII £DWARD the mighty king Accept the love we bring The tribute that we sing Is from the heart. We come thy name to bless May health and happiness Be thine, and great success Who worthy art. Thou of the Royal line Issue of Kings divine The crown is rightly thine Reign thou in peace. Rule fair Brittiania's land And India vast and grand And with a gracious hand Thy Colonies. Let Justice guild thy reign Throughout thy wide domain Let no wronged man complain Of thee the State. But list to all the cries As they ascending rise Before they reach the Skies And griefs abate. So shall thy realm increase Thy glory never cease And all the arts of Peace Will fruitage bring. While men thy name will bless With all true heartiness And will implore success For thee O King. A TALE [ AST night I was troubled and in sore distress, For I'd labored long and without success To compose for my manuscript four more lines, Four lines in the anapest meter with rhymes, Or rather endeavored to clothe a thought In the style and meter in which I had wrought Eight stanzas already ; the which alone For a fortnight had stood, nor a sentence had grown. I had turned and had twisted the English tongue, And many a change in the words had rung, Still faulty the meter or faulty the rhyme, Or feeble the language, or all at a time. II It is vain, it is useless," at length I sighed, " Longer to bother, so long have I tried, My piece to perfection I never shall bring, However fondly and blindly I cling." Then thought took a different turn on its wings From fancy's flight 'mong hidden things, And I said, " Why thus do I bother my brain, Grow weary and haggard beneath the strain ? To-morrow shall witness my sheet in the flame, In its ashes I'll bury all thoughts of a name. Yea, thoughts will I hold with an iron rein If ever they fall to rhyming again. Good-bye to thee, Muse, thou hast tempted me long, Far in the regions of Fancy and Song ; Thou hast led to destroy, I will break from thy power, My rescue I'll date from this dark midnight hour " 86 And yet a feeling of sadness came That spread like a blight and covered my frame, As I turned to my pillow, to seek repose In sleep, blessed sleep, the balm for all woes. I slept ; if my waking was one of pain, Of clouds and darkness and dripping rain, My sleep was as calm as an Eden morn, With roses and fragrance, and never a thorn. I slept. O, who can tell by what means We picture in sleep such wonderful scenes ? Hush ! A sound to my ear the night wind brings A flapping sound as a sound of wings, And the air borne back from its onward course Gave a low, soft sound like the music of verse. To my door one alighted, when, lo, behold ! My cottage was changed to a palace of gold. High, broad and expansive the structure became, Like castles of old and buildings of fame. I saw it crowned with turret and dome And furnished exceeding a prince's home. He entered my study. Did I ever presume For such a guest within my room ? As soft fell his feet on the marble floor As the breeze of the night on the ocean shore. Very grave was his step, and grave his tone, I remember his words, each and every one : " I am the Muse ; with me belong The power of fancy, the gift of song ; My home is the fair elysian blue, My wanderings extend the wide world through, And every nation, every tongue, Have felt my power, my songs have sung. 87 Yet chary am I where I bestow, None know my worth and may not know. I am the sun, like him I shine By mine own power, my light divine. Yon satellites reflect my beams, Your light from the fair fountain streams, While in degree you feel the ray With more or less intensity. "Thee have I called; and in thy name Will give the world a potent flame ; Fear not the labor, nor the field And thine shall be a bounteous yield. And thou must write ; I thee inspire With lucid, high, poetic fire. Those high-born passions of the soul Struggling to break from thy control, Bound as a prisoner with a chain, Will give, I warn thee, greater pain, Will more corrode the man and mind Than all my labor, thou wilt find. Here is a scroll I bid thee take And keep it ever for my sake. Study it well, it will unbind And bring all needful things to mind." I reached forth to grasp what was nothing but air, And thank the kind donor, but no one was there. The sun was arising, his long slanting beams Shot through the shutters in bright golden streams. The night had departed, the morning was come, My senses were real but passed was my gloom. My cottage was still the cottage of old, Nothing was new for mine eyes to behold. 88 No outward change, but an inward light Flashed on my brain and is burning bright. While the lines I had waited and worked for so long Came with the ease of an old-time song. The poem is finished, not in ashes consumed, And despite an oath my pen is resumed. A rash oath sworn in an evil mood Could not stand the rush of that mighty flood. Many a bard, or weak or strong, Has invoked the aid of the Muse in song, Well aware that the spirit that guides the pen Lay not in the power or command of men. I pretend to no titles, the poet's a name I will not seek for, or honors, or fame , But long on my memory brightly will gleam What was more than a dream, was more than a dream. 8 9 RESTLESSNESS (~)H, why am I compelled to keep A silent watch, while others sleep, And note the slow hours as they creep Snail-paced along. I, like a prisoner in a chain, Do writhe upon my bed in pain, Waiting, but waiting all in vain For Morpheus' call. The busy world is on my brain, I do the day's work o'er again, And life's events, a mighty train, Come crowding on. I form new schemes, alluring, grand, Which speciously would seem might stand; And yet I build upon the sand A castle's walls. And knowing this I close mine eyes, Thinking of many a maxim wise By which to tempt sleep in disguise ; A vain attempt. Till with a sickly strength I feel My muscles knit to cords of steel, A heart to dare, an arm to deal, — Strength of despair. Essence of care ! The heavy load That I have borne on life's high road Doth press upon me as a goad Forbidding sleep. 90 'mm I've labored long to win the prize, A name to dazzle the world's eyes, A bauble costly for its size, A life of toil. Hard through the day, long in the night, By the bright orb and flickering light, Have still pursued, and with my might, One aim alone. I, who so often have repressed Kind Nature's sweet and soothing rest ; She comes no more at my request But truant flies. Till heavy with the weight of woe I may not any farther go, She then her cloak doth o'er me throw But grudgingly. 9* SCHOOL DISCIPLINE 'T*HE pedagogue said, "You've lied," To the urchin that stood by his side, " To deceive me a long time you've tried, That you might stand by the side Of scholars whose foreheads are wide, Well cultured with study beside, While you and a few evil- eyed After fast horses would ride, Or down on the ice you would slide. I've talked and you've ever denied, I've reasoned and you have replied, I now will humble your pride And teach you a lesson beside." With arms spread far and wide Like lightning the strokes did glide Upon the poor urchin's hide, — To count them I failed, though I tried, (The scourge was the string of a hide Both strong and effectually tied To a hickory thoroughly dried). By my guess forty stripes were applied Before that he whimpered or cried, — When he begged for a while to be tried He might be severely eyed Yet no fault in him be implied. Then the strong arm fell to his side His voice to a gentler slide, " Oh ! It is not easy to chide, But my rules you must not o'erride. 92 si! I now will give for your guide, And for all who hear me beside, A rule with much wisdom supplied : ' Where'er in the world you reside, Whate'er in the world betide, Though in fortune's fair car you do ride Or a wander afoot you do stride, Let honesty still be your pride, Do all that you do as if eyed By a world that is ready to chide, For each duty that is misapplied, And be, ever be, and abide, Ever be as vou seem outside.' " 93 HOW BENJAMIN RIX BECAME GOVERNOR D ENJAMIN RIX at forty-six Was in a most unhappy fix, Four small children to be fed, And no way of earning bread, Had no cash to buy their shoes, And the poor man had the blues. He had tried to live by books, And his very goodly looks, Then the highway two years trod, Agent for the lightning rod. Then he got out printed bills, And he made and sold his pills That would cure all human ills. — Poor he was and poorer grew, All the neighbors tell you true, And he knew not what to do, What was wrong he thought he knew. So night by night, by candle-light, He affirmed with all his might — In the tavern, in the store, Rang the changes o'er and o'er — Reasons why the times were hard, Why so high were eggs and lard, Why the poor man should be poor With the rich so near his door. It was this and it was that, " Twas the dreadful Democrat, O the good old times of yore, Shall we ever see them more ? " 94 " But," said Ben, " I'll try again — We're not driven to our den, It shall be this time the hen, Think I will begin with ten, Work awhile and see what then — Think I may invent a way How to make a small farm pay." So he bought of choicest blood, And he studied on their food, And he felt exceeding good, As any honest worker should. When one day not far away Twenty new and fresh eggs lay In queer boxes in the bay. Benja looked with mouth and eyes — Who would not? — his great surprise, Yet withal a trifle wise, As he gathered up the prize. "Guess I've hit a little bit Of good fortune that will fit, And profit me in my estate — 'Twere bound to come though it came late. Yet I'll wait another day And see what happens in the bay, Perhaps I'll have a little say In the store not far away." 95 Every day, for quite a year, Twenty eggs would still appear Whether warm or whether drear, Whether damp or whether clear, As a never failing cheer. And the people oped their eyes, Looked with wonder and surprise, Some said, " Tis one of Ben Rix' lies, He can't fool us if he tries." But a wit, a wag, a clown, Let the babble fill the town, Said he'd seen, day after day, Twenty eggs brought from that bay, Then aside, "And I know how, It will cost me my best cow, But it's food to see him swell, Hear the stories he will tell, See the dupes ope wide their eyes Show their wonder and surprise. Yes," said he " I get my pay In good instalments every day, I may let the secret lie In my bosom till I die." "Now," said Ben, "since I've a prize It were best to advertise ; And I think I'll have it read So that all will see and heed, 1 Plymouth Rock Improved stock ; Hens will lay Two eggs and even more a day ! Eggs and chicks At B. Rix'. You should buy his Standard Food To improve your present brood.' 96 I would have a cut with a cock Crowing proudly on a rock, But my mortal fear is that They'd take me for a Democrat, And think I'd voted 'long with Pat.' But the orders came in broods — I had almost said in floods, And he filled them day by day, Filled his pockets with the pay. Now it chanced in Granger town Crops were poor and prices down ; That the farmers met one day To devise a better way How to make their farming pay, Every talker had his say. Then uprose our prosperous Ben, Said, " There's profit in the hen If you keep the proper stock, (He preferred the Plymouth Rock.) If you feed the biddies right, Keep their houses warm and tight, Give them air and give them light, As any careful farmer might." Then he gave the food and cost, Spoke of how some fowls were lost, Figured up the total gain ; It was good, and all seemed plain. Then 'rose one Professor E He was of the State A. C. Asked about the Standard Food ; Since for fowls it proved so good And a whole year's test had stood, Might one feed it to the cow With a double lacteal flow ? 97 " I do think so, Mr. E, I shall solve it, all shall see, I am sure that I am now On a process that will show Startling wonders from the cow. Soon from only one cow's milk One can clothe his wife in silk ; Yes, I am most free to say, Farmers are to have their day." Then the man alert with quill Heard the ripple of the rill, Thought he heard the torrents roar Only a short way before. So the County Trumpet came Out pronounced for Ben Rix' name As a candidate for fame. " Let him very soon be heard As a member of the Board. There is now a vacant place We elect him to the race." So the Governor heard the word And he placed him on the Board. Then he travelled long and late, Up and down, and through the state The good folks to educate. He proved ready in debate, And his heart it was so great One might rarely find its mate. And he talked of fowls and feeds, And he talked of herds and breeds, And he spoke of famous steeds, Of the many kind of weeds, Of the care in choosing seeds. Spoke of men and gallant deeds. 98 Then he had his little jokes For the many funny folks, And his stories he could tell, Oft repeated, O so well. So he won almost all hearts By his arts or want of arts. With the men 'twas " Honest Ben," With the women " Man of men." So it came, though it came late, He was Governor of the State, And he waxed exceeding great, Though he quite forgot the date And the man that fixed his fate. But the wag, the wit, the clown, Said, " Men go up, and men go down, Some bear their shovels, some a crown, What a bubble is renown ! It's too late for me to frown, I will let the secret lie In my bosom till I die." LefC. 99 THI STEW DAIRYING OF JOHN; WOOli T'M a plain, common man, by the name of John X Wood, I had done pretty well, it was so understood, And had almost paid for a very good farm. The house was kept tidy, the barns neat and warm, I'd a herd of nice Jerseys, not thoroughbred cows, The hay filled two spacious, accessible mows. The milk was delicious, the butter was sweet, And packed in plain boxes, simple and neat, Which sold for good prices year after year, And never a fault-finding word did I hear. No happier couple e'er travelled in life Than I and my excellent, lovable wife. But the wave of Progression once struck our town And rolled in great billows threatening to drown The "fossils" and " mossbacks " who nothing- would learn. And so, as we all had a living to earn, New methods, new knowledge, we must have on the farm, A possible lack entailed probable harm. And as we were farmers, and dairying the rule, We went in good force to the new dairy school. There we learned of bacteria, we learned of the cell Of disease in the milk, and of death in the well. There were microbes galore and millions of germs, — Till I was muddled and mixed in all of the terms, And whether 'twere microbe or whether 'twere Boer I hardly could tell in that wordy downpour. 100 Only this : that whether in barn or on hill, Those creatures were stubborn to conquer or kill. But when the Professor with feeling gave vent " To keep clean ! To keep clean ! " we knew what he meant. Now as I'm a plain and practical man, I hastened me home, and my labors began, — But first I met my good wife at the door, And I earnestly said, "There's disease on the floor, On the walls, in the water, alack, and the air, And Death lies a-crouching like a beast in his lair." Then I spoke of bacteria, microbes and germs, — And managed to get in a few Latin terms, — How they'd revel and thrive in the milk and the cream And multiply faster than one's wildest dream. " Now as we're for business, and business I mean, We must keep our new dairy perfectly clean. There must be no odors, no flies, and no dust, I mean what I say, there certainly must. " But May, — how I wronged her — looked so sad and amazed And rightfully thought I was cranky or crazed As she said, " You know, John, we had prospered before, And I fail to see such harm at our door, But I'll aid you and help you as ever I've done In all of your projects ever begun." 101 I hustled and bustled from barn to the house As wild as a bedbug, as spry as a louse, And evermore pondered the "whys" and the " hows " I could equal the barns, and the State Dairy cows. But, you see, I soon found as my labors began I needed the help of a strong hired man. Of course I must have such utensils and tools As they use with success at the State Dairy schools. But which ? The agents soon found me and tried All their arts, which were legion, and oh, how they lied! Till at last, all bewildered and to get me some rest, I bought, though I knew not which was the best. Well, I seemed to prosper quite well at the first, And I thought, with some pride, I was pretty well versed In the art; so I talked very glibly at home and the store, With my friends, of the "butterfat," the "test" and the "score." With my wife 'twas "bacteria," "microbes," and "germs," And I made them appear like horrible worms. " The dairyman now must be thoroughly skilled, Some microbes must live and some must be killed." But once on a time, all astounded, I read, From my dealer in butter, a letter that said, " Off flavor ! Quite poor ! You will please bear in mind And send me no further grease of that kind." 102 And then how I fumed and fretted and fussed, "I must find the cause, I certainly must." Was it in the feed, in the air, or the cows ? Could it be in the barn ? Was it not in the house ? So I asked all so brusquely — I know I'm a boor — What I'd asked her, perhaps, forty odd times be- fore, Whether she'd thoroughly scalded the pails, "The outside, the inside, as well as the bails." While there, just before me, every one Stood polished like mirrors right in the sun. As it was at the first, 'tis ever the same, "The woman Thou gavest me, she is to blame." Then May fairly wilted and burst into tears, The first I had seen in all of our years, — Next morn, as she weak and helplessly lay, So pale and so worn, she begged me to stay By her side and read as of old from the Book, And I saw in her eyes a far-away look. Then I said, " Other things have I learned Than how cows should be fed, and cream should be churned, There are errors, grave errors all through the Word. Where could you have lived and never have heard ? Then she said, " I'm so sorry, but never you fear, I'll destroy every one if it takes me a year." You see she'd confounded my bacterian terms And thought that the Book had dangerous germs. " But, John," she said sweetly, " don't hasten away, Let us talk of the past, of a happier day, When the fields were so fresh and the sky was so blue, And the stars were so bright, and so soft fell the dew. 103 And the flowers were so sweet in the garden and dell, And so cool was the water drawn from the well. When we saw the nice things, and had nothing to fear, And lived very happily many a year." Well, the fever ran high for a week, and she died, And I shed my first tears, all too late, at her side, Then my troubles came thick as vultures for prey, 5 Twas " Pay for past contracts, please hasten and pay." Till, vexed beyond measure, I made me a vow I would pay every bill if it took my last cow. So now I've no wife to brighten the house, And I have my barns but no nice Jersey cows. In exchange I have gained a few dairy rules And a very good set of unused dairy tools, But had I the peace and the purse as of yore I'd not play the crank or the fool any more. i«4 I DARE THE STORM Y/U'ILD is this Winter night, The Storm reigns in his might, To-day he asserts his might And rules with iron hand. How cold o'er this bleak hill, Horror the air doth fill, 'Tis sighing, moaning still From wind and swaying trees. Not one of man or beast Dare face the furious blast, — A howling, lifeless waste — I roam the wild alone. Ten long miles I have tread, Twelve more stretch out ahead That I must travel, ere I'm led To friends and to warm fires. I'm weary, I am weak, For rest my limbs bespeak, Earth pillowing my cheek, Wild screeching winds o'erhead. Sleep ! Sleep ! Then would my visions end, In sleep, where no dreams e'er attend, 'Tis Death with chilly hand That's calling after me. Shall I return, or on ? So far I now have gone In this wild waste and lone, Retreat were vain. °S Friends warned me of the storm, Of danger and of harm, " You're young and slight, your form Lest morn you ne'er shall see." "This day," I cried, "was set to go, I've waited too long even now, However cold the blast may blow, It shall not reign o'er me." "It shall not reign," I said, What courage and now sped ? I'm nought without the aid Of that fire which's within. Away, thou coward fear, There's no place for thee here, The thought brings pain severe That I have harbored you. The morrow morn shall find Me safe from storm and wind, And praises warm and kind Will shower on my brave head. Who cares for the raging storm ? It never can me harm, While this fire burns within so warm, Ambition's lurid fire. Then wild winds shriek in woe, Pale moon withdraw from view, Despair let cowards know, I scorn the name of fear. 06 APR 19 1904 Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. 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