Hollinger Corp. 
 pH 8.5 
 
<) PS 3507 
 ' .014 G5 
 , 1891 
 Copy 1 
 
 m 
 
 mm 
 
 BY 
 
 ALSON M:' DOAK. 
 
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 '3334314/^ 
 
 Copyright, 1S91, by the Author. 
 
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PRELUDE. 
 
 On Nature's quiet and gentle breast, 
 We cannot help but love the flowers 
 
 Which shine as jewels in earth's crown 
 To cheer these wears- hearts of ours. 
 
 While seeking in the lap of Spring 
 The hidden store of Nature's fields, 
 
 I found among its thorns and weeds, 
 A gem such as she seldom yieldj. 
 
 It was a modest little flower 
 With quiet and unselfish air. 
 
 Yet with a beauty which outsh(nie 
 By far, the vain and gaudy fair. 
 
 Its lips unsullied, sweet and pure, 
 Fit for no grosser stains than those . 
 
 Left by the dewdrop's pearly tear 
 Upon the petals of the rose. 
 
 An eye outshining from the heart 
 In liquid beauty, sent a thrill 
 
 Of tender love through all my frame 
 And with its brightness all did fill. 
 
With charms like these that little flower 
 Gave its own sweetness to my life, 
 
 And with a holy purity 
 That calmed its discord and its strife. 
 
 Would there were more such blossoms fair, 
 
 To lift man's ruder nature up, 
 So that from streams of pure life, 
 
 The cup of blessings he might sup. 
 
 So gently do earth's lovely flowers 
 Twine in with thoughts of higher birth. 
 
 That we can oft times scarcely tell 
 
 Which came from heaven, which from earth. 
 
 Earthly, and yet from heaven, the gem 
 That shed its light upon my road. 
 
 A treasure of immortal life. 
 Bearing the image of its God. 
 
 Thus sometimes on the darkened earth 
 We And a jewel sprakling bright. 
 
 Which by some strange, sweet spell, lifts up 
 Our sorrowing hearts to heavenly light. 
 
TRUTH. 
 
 Standing beneath the sable dome of night, 
 
 I heard the trailing garments of a queen 
 
 Sweep through the silent, jeweled halls of heaven. 
 
 She was a queen in monarch Thought's domain, 
 
 Reigning in realms of the invisible. 
 
 And as I looked, there I beheld her hand 
 
 Holding within its graceful finger points 
 
 A pen made of materials richer 
 
 Than Ophir's fabled gold, whose jeweled point 
 
 She dipped into the crystal stream of life 
 
 Flowing from underneath the throne of God, 
 
 And I beheld in characters of light 
 
 Written ujjon those walls of changeless blue 
 
 In universal language for all men, 
 
 The message of the great Infinite One. 
 
 It was the queen of Truth, arrayed in robes 
 
 So pure that we can scarce detect her form 
 
 Unless it be in cloak humbler guise 
 
 Shining through things we every day behold. 
 
 Her head, bearing its cornet of gold, 
 
 Glittering with gems and precious stones. 
 
 Emblem of her great mission to mankind, 
 
 Waved its rich tresses on the scented air. 
 
Her snowy bosom, on its silken robes 
 
 Which half consealed her beauteous grace of form, 
 
 Bore a rich shield, made brighter by the storm 
 
 Of fiery darts in hellish malice aimed 
 
 With vile intent to pierce that queenly heart. 
 
 But which by power invincible cast off, 
 
 Recoiled with double fury on the heads 
 
 Of those who dare to tempt the wrath of heaven. 
 
 Her feet were planted on the thunder clouds 
 
 Breathing their lightnings to destroy that one 
 
 Who should attempt her virtue to deride. 
 
 Not only on the starry face of night 
 
 Did she inscribe her missive to mankind, 
 
 But deep within the bosom of the earth. 
 
 And underneatn the folds of Nature's robe, 
 
 Lies many a precious line by man unread. 
 
 In life, science, philosophy, written 
 
 In letters bright from life's pare crystal stream, 
 
 Although as yet but little understood. 
 
 That message comes with gentle yet resistless force. 
 
 And on she leads us to the great "First Cause;" 
 
 And from the pure and holy atmosphere 
 
 Of that high altitude we'll one day see 
 
 All nature stand a parable of Heaven . 
 
 Tell me, lover, does your pulses thrill 
 
 At sight of beauty, virtue, purity ? 
 
 Where is there being worthier of your love ? 
 
 Do you admire the graceful form of youth ? 
 
 Here stands a form in youth immortal dressed. 
 
Though ancient as the everlasting hills, 
 
 Do you delight in faith and constancy, 
 
 She is as firm as adamantine rock 
 
 'Neath the Eternal city, and as sure. 
 
 Does love of gentleness o'erfiow your soul, 
 
 E'en here you may drink in with tender joy 
 
 The magic sweetness of that matchless voice, 
 
 As she looks up through nature's smiling face, 
 
 And from the depths of true philosophy 
 
 Speaks to the erring heart of man, gently 
 
 Leading him to her feet to worship there. 
 
 Oh, that we all might be wedded to truth ! 
 
 Let us arise and kiss her holy lips. 
 
 And plight to her eteimal faith and love ; 
 
 Then we can lean upon her gentle breast, 
 
 And drink from everlasting springs of life ; 
 
 And she will lead us o'er the thorns and rocks 
 
 Which lies so thickly in the way of life. 
 
 And bring us to the holy hill of God 
 
 Whence we have wandered since that hapless fall 
 
 Which led us downw^ard bound in error's chains. 
 
 Then by that law which makes the wedded one. 
 
 We shall again become the heirs of heaven ; 
 
 For Truth, our bride, offspring of God himself, 
 
 Will bring us as her wedding offering, 
 
 A joyous welcome to the gates of Life. 
 
FRIENDSHIP. 
 
 True friendship is a shining golden chain, 
 
 The jeweled links of which were forged in heaven, 
 
 The jeweler enthroned as king of heaven, 
 
 His workmanship immortal as himself. 
 
 How firmly yet how gently are we bound, 
 
 Oh Friendship, by thy strong and lasting links, 
 
 Which bind true hearts in one, like giant vines 
 
 Which twine their iron tendrils each on each. 
 
 So that even the lightning's fiery bolts 
 
 Cannot assunder rend their strong embrace. 
 
 As through the rushing, thoughtless crowd, we tread 
 
 The cold and frozen highway of the world. 
 
 Chilled as by death, with the hard hand of care, 
 
 Oh, how the restless longing of the heart 
 
 Is stilled, as by the soft rich melody 
 
 Of heaven, when we can grasp with confidence 
 
 The warm and trusting hand of a true friend. 
 
 The soul which had withdrawn into itself 
 
 To keep it from the icy blasts of scorn. 
 
 Now opens like the gentle hyacinth 
 
 Which with the first warm touch of Spring, unfolds 
 
 Its tender petals to the chilling winds 
 
 Lading them with a rich, sweet fragrance. 
 
 Oh Friend, when the deep fulness of thy soul, 
 
Breathing its nature's true nobility 
 
 Came intQ contact with my yearning life, 
 
 Changing from youthful follies to a mood 
 
 Of deeper thoughtfulness its fitful stream, 
 
 How gracious was that fellowship lifting 
 
 Nearer to the great universal heart. 
 
 The hopes and aspiration of my life. 
 
 At first the chain that bound was slight and frail, 
 
 Yet stronger forged by kindred thought and work. 
 
 It grew to such a beauty, strength and power. 
 
 That death alone could break its golden links, 
 
 Ah Death ! is this the power of thy dark wave? 
 
 Has thy cold breath alone the power to rend 
 
 This glorious chain of heavenly workmanship ? 
 
 And blast affection's sweet and holy flower ? 
 
 It cannot be, for like the amaranth, 
 
 Immortal blooming by the throne of God, 
 
 It blooms in never-fading brilliancy. 
 
 And though the cruel storms of life and death 
 
 May hide it for a moment from the eye 
 
 Of cold, heartless and vain philosophy. 
 
 Yet when Life's xingel rolls them by, it will 
 
 In ever brightening glory shine ; shedding 
 
 Celestial fragrance throuo;h the fields of light. 
 
BEAUTY 
 
 Within the whole of Nature's boundless realm, 
 
 With all her vast infinity of being, 
 
 Whether it be in forms inanimate 
 
 Moved but by the niN^sterious powers of force, 
 
 Or in the light and blithesome forms of life 
 
 Thrilled with an ecstacy of living fire 
 Kindled by life immortal self-contained, 
 
 No path can we traverse through all these forms. 
 
 But a sweet and charming spirit haunts our own. 
 
 Wooing us with the gentle purity 
 
 And fragrance of her virgin charms, 
 
 So mild, aerial, and spirit-like. 
 
 Whether we tread with light and joyous step. 
 
 The highway of a peaceful, happy life. 
 
 Or walk in sorrow's dark and misty vale 
 
 With its o'erhanging crags of misery. 
 
 Yet if we but spur our lagging faculties. 
 
 We can hear her light angelic step. 
 
 And the silvery music of her heaven tuned voice. 
 
 And feel the touch of her gentle spirit hand 
 
 As she pleads with us to leave deformity 
 
 And all her train behind us in our flight. 
 
 And come with her into a sweeter path, 
 
 A purer, more ethereal atmosphere. 
 
This queen of beauty to the artist's eye 
 
 May lie in forms of loveliness and grace 
 
 As painted on the canvas folds o'er which 
 
 He has for many days in labor toiled. 
 
 Or it may lie in quiet forest shades 
 
 O'erspread with carpets delicate of moss 
 
 And sweet wild flowers, or in the laughing voice 
 
 Of babbling brook, pouring its limped waters pure 
 
 With soothing music o'er its pebbly bed, 
 
 And filling with their glory all his soul. 
 
 Unto the powerful intellect of him 
 
 AVho points his telescope to heaven's blue dome, 
 
 And out into her vast infinitude 
 
 Eides on imagination's tireless wings. 
 
 It may exist in mighty magnitudes, 
 
 Sweeping with speed incomprehensible 
 
 Through space's deep abyss; or it may shine 
 
 In varied light from her unnumbered stars. 
 
 Breathing their silent, voiceless melody. 
 
 Through all her measureless expanse. 
 
 The mind of calm philosophy may see 
 
 It shine forth in the life of purity 
 
 Bearing its guise of meek sincerity; 
 
 Or in the heroism that will dare, 
 
 Endure and suff'er, all of agony. 
 
 Even defy the powers of death and hell 
 
 To swerve it from the path of right or shake 
 
 Its boundless trust in God and in His truth. 
 
Unto the ardent lover's watchful eye 
 
 It may exist in friendship's sacred fires, 
 
 Or sparkle in the radient, trusting eye. 
 
 Lit with the calm and holy light of heaven, 
 
 Or in the graceful form, the glowing cheek. 
 
 The sweet and parted lips trembling in joy, 
 
 And with their gentleness and purity 
 
 Thrilling his soul with ecstacy of love. 
 
 But to the Christian's deeper soul it may 
 
 Be all of these and more. With what a bright 
 
 And radient glory stands arrayed all things 
 
 'Neath beauty's magic touch when he goes forth 
 
 'Mid nature's charms in sweet communion with 
 
 Her God, and casting off all groveling fear 
 
 Listens to "the beating of her great 
 
 And throbbing heart. She has for him a voice. 
 
 To other ears almost inaudible, 
 
 As if she would impress upon his heart. 
 
 Some sweeter, purer tok;en of her love 
 
 Into whatever part of her vast realm 
 
 We go to seek her wealth and treasures rich, 
 
 We find on all is written harmony. 
 
 And though through all her halls we hear no sound. 
 
 Yet in her voiceless eloquence she speaks. 
 
 And we yield to her a loving audience. 
 
 God sent his angel Beauty on the earth 
 
 To soften and refine the heart of man. 
 
 And melt it into sympathy with his 
 
Own great and loving being, and to sing 
 
 In accents sweet the message wonderful 
 
 From Heaven, of "Peace, good-will to men." 
 
 We sometimes give to her a place and name, 
 
 Such as Nature, Woman or Art; yet we 
 
 Awake to find that we have given her 
 
 Too narrow boundaries. She lies not here; 
 
 But is an essence undefinable. 
 
 She reaches up with all pervading power 
 
 From the tender beauty of the slender flower 
 
 That childish hands may crush unwittingly, 
 
 Through varied forms in numbers infinite, 
 
 Up to that beauty undescribable. 
 
 The virtuous soul's unspotted purity 
 
 As it in robes of dazzling brightness stands 
 
 Arrayed before the throne of God. 
 
 Sometimes when we in thoughtful, serious mood, 
 
 Give up ourselves to contemplation's sway. 
 
 We seem to see this angel hold the keys of life. 
 
 With her alone perfection lies, 
 
 And in perfection immortalit}'. 
 
 So let us yield our lives and all we are. 
 
 To beauty's angel and her holy light ; 
 
 And when we castaway these fetters dull, 
 
 Which bind our spirits to a w^orld of death, 
 
 We shall in ecstacy rise up to heaven 
 
 And lose ourselves in its pure element. 
 
LOVE. 
 
 'Twas in a valley dark, and damp and cold, 
 
 A little flower once bloomed amid the storm. 
 
 Of structure delicate and sweet, richest 
 
 Of all the blossoms ever known on earth. 
 
 It was the pure sweet flower of human love. 
 
 The germ of which, matured in heaven was dropped 
 
 By angels hands from shining battlements ; 
 
 And, nurtured by the hand of God himself. 
 
 It grew to cheer the weary heart of man, 
 
 And lighten by its joy his heavy load, 
 
 So tender was that pure and fragrant flower, 
 
 So heavenly in its snowy purity. 
 
 That 'mid earth's cruelty and storm it seemed 
 
 As if its gentle life would be destroyed. 
 
 Its pure unsullied face in modesty 
 
 Was veiled, as upward into heaven's bine depths 
 
 It looked with mild and soulful eyes, seeking 
 
 To trace its lineage with the heavenly flower. 
 
 Its breath ever yielded a sweet perfume. 
 
 As budding forth among the thorns of earth, 
 
 It came a gracious messenger of peace, 
 
 Bidding earth's nations cease their cruel Wars 
 
 And dwell together as all brethren should, 
 
 In bonds of peace and true humility. 
 
Not sweeter fragrance does its petals yield, 
 
 Yet with what a delightful thrill it comes, 
 
 O'erflowing with a gracious sympathy 
 
 For every form of life the soul of him 
 
 Who stands enamored of the maiden's charms 
 
 Blooming from girlish grace and innocence 
 
 Into the charm of perfect womanhood. 
 
 How hast thou been profaned holy flower. 
 
 By those who would apply thee to vile use ! 
 
 From many of thy haunts thou hast been torn. 
 
 Where otherwise in beauty thou hadst grown, 
 
 And in thy place vile passion's flower has bloomed. 
 
 Yet still tne faithful heart delights in thee. 
 
 And hails thee as the gift of God to man. 
 
 Purifying and refining all his soul. 
 
 Cold hearts may oft' deny the gentle power 
 
 Of love, yet they oft-times must feel its force. 
 
 Though not acknowledged, it in secret works ; 
 
 If not for strong, courageous souls it burns, 
 
 yet for the weak and innocent, or foe 
 
 The delicate and beautiful it fills 
 
 The soul with pity or with sympathy. 
 
 And when the soul lifts up itself on high. 
 
 Breathing the purer, higher atmosphere 
 
 Of God and Heaven, it cannot help but love. 
 
LIFE. 
 
 On one of those inspiring days in Spring, 
 
 When nature's gentle bosom, swelling with 
 
 Her love, was in the act of bursting forth 
 
 In all her beauty and her loveliness 
 
 From winter's dark aud somber cloak, I sat 
 
 Upon an old oak's prostrate form, which lay 
 
 Stretched in a quiet, sunny hillside nook. 
 
 With powers of body and of mind relaxed, 
 
 I opened wide the windows of my soul 
 
 To nature's fresh and penetrating breath, 
 
 And lay passive and helpless in her hand. 
 
 As thus I rested from my menial toil, 
 
 And from the incongruous thoughts which had 
 
 Been rudely crowding in upon my mind. 
 
 Oh how invigorating was the change ! 
 
 My soul was filled with those delightful sweets 
 
 Which nature always had possessed for me 
 
 Even from budding, days of infancy. 
 
 It seemed to me as if some "Tree of life" 
 
 Blooming in higher realms of spirit world, 
 
 Had dovi^iward sent its roots into my soul 
 
 And was through them drawing my being up 
 
 Into the tissues of its higher life, 
 
 As were the trees and plants about my path 
 
Taking the crude materials of earth 
 Assimilating them to higher forms. 
 Here Nature in her generosity- 
 Poured in her richest glories to my soul 
 With lavish hand, and that without a thought 
 Or effort of mj'^ weak exhausted powers. 
 And Ah ! herein her magic sweetness lies, 
 The freshness and the fragrance of her teachings. 
 When tired of the affected teaching of 
 The moralist, we wander forth alone 
 Seeking to rest our weary faculties. 
 We need but to disrobe ourselves of all 
 Superfluous thoughts, and she will gently write 
 Upon the living tablets of the soul, 
 Essays of love, of truth, of purity. 
 As I looked upward from my rustic throne, 
 Above me stretched the great blue dome of heaven 
 Through M'hich sailed here and there, white, fleecy 
 
 clouds, 
 Like flakes of foam upon the lake's smooth brim. 
 There too, in beauty was the sun like a 
 Laver of liquid gold in her blue depths. 
 Below me in the valley flowed the brook 
 Where many of my childhood da3^s were spent. 
 It glided like a silver serpent through 
 The tangled grass which grew along its course. 
 Hiding a moment here and there, until 
 'Twas lost among the distant hills and woods. 
 
The earlier birds of spring whistled and sang 
 Amid the chimps of bushes by the streams; 
 And as tlieir sweet and touching melody 
 Came floating to my ears in harmony 
 Upon the mild and balmy air of spring, 
 It seemed to carry me away with it, 
 And by its perfect purity of tone. 
 To purify my inmost thoughts and lift 
 My entire life, my soul nearer to heaven. 
 Whatever way I turned my eyes, was life. 
 I saw it, felt it coursing through my veins. 
 Yes! even heard it in the bursting buds 
 Struggling to come forth into loveliness. 
 It moved not only in the active world, 
 But I could see it in the sky above. 
 And even in the rocks beneath my feet 
 The same defineless spirit seemed to glow. 
 Bearing the stamp of immortality. 
 Even the air about me seemed to say : 
 The forest songster may forget his song ; 
 The A^orld of vegetation may be parched ; 
 Even the earth itself may be destroyed ; 
 Yet this life spirit which pervades them all, 
 Cannot by the destroyer's power be harmed. 
 And as I sat there in the wood, drinking 
 Life's waters dipped for me by Nature's hand 
 In the silver goblet of human life, 
 I felt this thought imbedded in my soul 
 
Firmly as fossils in the deep lain roeks 
 Dug up from hidden caverns of the earth : 
 This spirit of life is immortal born ; 
 And the human soul which is a part of this 
 Deep lain and all pervading life, shall, like 
 Its source, rise up as on the wings of light, 
 And lose itself in immortality. 
 
AN ANGEL OF MERCY. 
 
 One day as the declining sun 
 
 Of June, with his absorbing rays 
 Which send through every rural nook 
 
 The spirit of those glorious days 
 Of freshness and of purity, 
 
 Shone down upon a city street, 
 His rays fell through her golden curls 
 
 Upon a childish face as sweet 
 And pure as ever heaven's light 
 
 Filled with a lioly radiance bright. 
 
 A gentle mother's loving hand 
 
 Clasped tenderly the little one. 
 As 'mid the rush of hurrying feet, 
 
 Half aimlessly she hurried on. 
 Her form, in garb of mourning dressed, 
 
 Gave evidence of want and care. 
 And often did the burning tears 
 
 Fall on that little face so fair. 
 As that widowed mother, almost wild, 
 
 Stooped down to kiss her homeless child. 
 
The door into a drinking house 
 
 She opened with a falt'ring hand 
 And with that darling little girl, 
 
 Before the bar I saw her stand 
 "Can you assist me sir?" she asked 
 
 Of him who dealt out poison there. 
 And answering his curious look 
 
 She said : I once was happy e'er 
 A fond and loving husband fell 
 
 Through weakness, to a drunkard's hell." 
 
 "I once possessed a happy home; 
 
 But now that home is desolate, 
 And gone the wealth which some called mine, 
 
 And I am left early and late 
 To wander with this little child, 
 
 My only friend, begging for bread ; 
 For I am now too weak to work." 
 
 And she caressed those curls which spread 
 Their ringlets o'er that lovely face 
 
 Which seemed there strangely out of place. 
 
And as the mother plead with those 
 
 Who sat about that room, to leave 
 Their evil ways, the little one 
 
 Pulling her flimsy, tattered sleeve. 
 Asked leave to sing to some of them. 
 
 "Yes darling if they wish, you may." 
 And as they placed her in a chair 
 
 And listened in an awkward way. 
 She sang to them in such a tone 
 
 As would have moved a heart of stone. 
 
 It was a plaintive, mournful song, 
 
 About a drunkard's homeless child ; 
 And sung in sweet simplicity 
 
 From lips so innocent and mild. 
 It drew all hearts in sympathy 
 
 To listen to that pure, clear voice. 
 Billiards and cards were thrown aside. 
 
 And all came freely and from choice 
 To listen to so strange a sound 
 
 That could amid such sin be found. 
 
The soft, sweet cadence of that voice, 
 
 The heavenly beauty of her face, 
 Brought back emotions to those hearts. 
 
 Which sin could ne'er again erase. 
 Those slender little arms, bathed in 
 
 A v^'ealth of flowing golden hair; 
 Those blue eyes filled with trusting light 
 
 Which seemed not of the earth so rare 
 It was, inspired each heart with strong 
 
 Resolve to leave the paths of wrong. 
 
 As that sweet melody was hushed, 
 
 Many a heart was moved to tears. 
 Which ran down over hardened cheeks 
 
 They had not known for many years. 
 One young man who had heartlessly 
 
 Resisted all a mother's love, 
 Grasping those tiny hands in his. 
 
 Exclaimed, as light dawned from above, 
 "God bless you, angel child! you save 
 
 Me from a hopeless drunkard's grave." 
 
"If ever angels were on earth, 
 
 God bless you darling, you are one!" 
 And placing in the mother's hand 
 
 A bill, he said : " Your child has done 
 For me more than wealth can e're repay. 
 
 Accept this trifle from my hand, 
 And come to me in ever}^ day 
 
 Of need, and you w^ill find a friend." 
 But the mother and child were gone, 
 
 Those drinkingj men were left alone. 
 
 Stepping forward the owner said : 
 
 "My friends if you hereafter drink 
 It will not be in house of mine. 
 
 I cannot bear to think how much 
 Of ruin I have wrought." And one 
 By one before they could depart, 
 They were constrained to pledge themselves 
 
 To better life ; feeling in heart, 
 Truly an angel had been that day 
 
 Leading them into the better way. 
 
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