LIBRARY OF CONGRESS, ai). ToDyriglii M). Chap. TTopynglu N UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. At The Twilight Hour OTHER POEMS HATTIE LEONARD WRIGHT FO THE M 9681 ,i1 0-- C0«6i . , '^ JAN 10 1898 TWO writs weceWW ^Xjer of Cc9f: ?^JS^ 52f>4 COPYRIGHT BY HATTIE LEONARD WRIGHT 1897 CONTENTS At the Twilight Hour I Grow Smoke and a Sermon My View and His'n A Lawyer's Valentine June .... Parting Song To a Darwinian Thanksgiving Day The Years Glide By Arbutus In Memory of Helen Ninde King To the Memory of our Classmate Jennie Armstrong . PAGE 3 5 7 8 11 13 14 15 16 18 19 21 22 iv CONTENTS. page To A November Violet . 23 To Isabel . 24 Falling Leaves . 25 From the Past . . 26 "Not Here. But RisExN" . 28 The Old Gray Horse . 29 Evening . 30 Baby .... . 32 A POTATOLESS DINNER . 33 Children's Songs . 34 The ReUxNion . 38 Sometimes I sung because the way seemed dreary, Sometimes for joy my harp began to thrill . /Sometimes, ivhen Grief stood mute 'neath ^orrovj weary A dirge unlocked her lips so still And so, through life, my harp and I together Have clim,hed the mountain or have crossed the plain. It brightened Jor me all the gloomy weather Or soothed some fellow wanderer's pain. This little book shall voice some faint vibration Of all that thrilled my toand^ring harp of yore. As some small shell of ocean\s strange creation Still sings though wave shall kis'i it nevermore. AT THK TWILIGHT HOUR. THK last few ra3'S of the fading light Look back on the earth in ling'ring goodnioht, And the purpling tints of the evening mark That peaceful time " 'twixt da5^1ight and dark"— My happiest time ; 'tis the twilight hour. The soft red glow from the fire-place falls In flickering gleams athwart the walls, On table and books and old time chairs, On quaint old vases marshalled in pairs, That show through the dusk of the twilight hour. And, side by side in the fireside glow, One stately and tall, one little and low, Two easy chairs invitingl}^ wait, While I softlj^ whisper, "It's getting late" In fear we may miss our twilight hour. But a well-known step's on the flags outside, A moment later and you're at luy side ; Then what do we care for the world without, For it's praise or blame, for it's faith or doubt? The}^ vex us not in the twilight hour. 3 AT THE TWILIGHT HOUB, Wear}^ and worn from the long da3^'s hard toil, Brown with the sun, marked with stains of the soil, Somewhat grizzled and gray, somewhat careworn and old, You are yet more to me than can ever be told As we sit side b}^ side in the twilight hour. The hand that holds mine in clasp tender and warm, Though roughened b}^ toil and scarce graceful of form, Has battled for countr3' in treason's dark hour And helped to put down rebellion's vile power, And I'm proud of it now in this twilight hour. As we silently sit in the deepening gloom That gathers and grows in our firelighted room, I think of the hardships, the sorrow and care That have furrowed your brow and silvered yoiir hair; I would make j^ou forget in this twilight hour. Then I think of the j^ears that are yet to be, Bearing bitter and sweet for j^ou and for me. And I know the cup will be sweeter if we Ma}" share it together, whate'er it may be. 'Tis of this that I dream in this twilight hour. Oh, I pray when, at last, our tasks are all done And together we watch life's fast setting sun, When the tender Angel of Death shall come Our spirits to bear to our Heavenl}^ Home, We may rest side bj' side in that twilight hour. I GROW, I GROW. IN a cleft of a rock both dark and deep There fell a seed long- ago ; One glimmering ray broke its wintry sleep And woke it to live and grow. Prisoned from day in the darkness of night. Not even a leaflet near, It pined for the dew and the warmth and light And hated the darkness drear. Far, far overhead shone a glimpse of blue, And up from the depths came clear The sound of a spring that had trickled through For many, many a year. So, because it could not live in the dark, Because it must drink or die, It reached forth its leaves to the shining mark (That was all it could see of sky) ; It sent down a thirsty rootlet to drink From the fountain flowing below. And down in its heart it began to think, "I really believe that I grow." Years came and went and a graceful young tree Had reared there its beautiful crest, And every bright leaf as it fluttered free In the wind from the warm southwest I GEO W. Sang the sweet song that the first time was heard In cold, cheerless darkness below. How happiness thrilled and throbbed in each word "I grow, I grow ! Oh, I grow !" Boughs were wrenched off by the furious gale Or burnt in the lightning's tlame ; And leaves fell thick 'neath the fast flying hail, The song was evei' the same. Heaviest storms spent their fur}' in vain, Droughts parched the earth far and near, 'Mid the thunder's roar came the old refrain "I grow, I grow," — sweet and clear. And the scars were healed as the years went on, Ever}' springtime brought new life. And flower and fruit crowned the victory won Through 3'ears of storm and strife. Still the same old song swelled up to the sky, "I grow, I grow ! Oh, I grow I" Till ever}^ wind brought the gladsome cr}^, "I grow, I grow ! Oh, I grow !" And so 7 sing through the dreariest night. Throughout the weariest day ; The sun's overhead though clouds keep the lij From shining across my wQ.y. The goal may seem never so far from me. The pathway be rough and steep ; IGHOW. My strength indeed very little may be And torrents be wide and deep ; Tomorrow the sun may shine bright and clear. The torrents have ebbed away ; If not I'll be patient, banish all fear And wait yet another day. And still with a heart full of joy I sing, ''I grow, I grow ! Oh, I grow !" There will come, bye-and-bye, a blossoming Of life and soul— this I liHiow. SMOKE AND A SERMON. 7T^WAS sunset, and. looking across the plain 1 And the forest fresh from the recent rain, I was watching the tender light that lay, So soft and so bright and so far away, On the white cloudships that dreamily Sailed the measureless depths of azure sea. Toil-smirched and careworn I wished I could be Clean as a cloud and as buoyant and free ; My life seemed so gloomy— would it were bright— But even it's shadow seemed dark'ning to night. Near by me an engine that stood on the track Sent skyward a column of smoke thick and black. Blacker and thicker on upward it rolled Till the setting sun turned it's top to gold, Then fair as a cloud, just as softly bright. It was borne away on the breeze so light. So, I thought, with life— if we lift it high SMOKE AND A SERMON. It's grimy spots turn to gold in the sky, If only upon them we catch the ray Of the Sun that shines through unending Day. So the inky smoke of our battles may rear A pillar of cloud in our wilderness here That shall be as a pillar of light to show Some wa3'faring brother the way to go. MY VIEW AND HISN. ITKLL ye jest what, them teachers Has 'n awful sight fer ter bear, An' I couldn't be hired t' be one Ef I hadn't a rag t' wear Except this old suit uv blue-jeans An' not nary cent fer t' spare. Fust, they's a passel uv young uns Jest full uv the very Old Nick— The biggest uns puttin' the littlest Up to ev'ry mischeevious trick An' a keepin' theirselves out uv trouble In a way th't seems purt}- slick. Then, they's th' intrusted payrents Ferever a meddlin' aroun' An' a faultin' th' teacher fer somethin' He knows better 'n they, I'll be boun' It hain't possible fer ye ter suit 'em Anyways ter suit 'em all roun'. MY VIEW AND HIS'N. This one— lie thinks th't his childern, The teacher hain't learned 'em enough, Th't he's ben by far too easj^ : The next one allows he's too rough : An' Jones, he says th't he's partial An' he's took his'n out in a huff. An' then, just look at his quarters. He boards with th' Widder Van Bloom ; Two mile 'n a half he must foot it 'Cause th' neighbors here hed'nt room. Takin' summer 'n winter t'gether His comfort it hain't on th' boom. Fer 'n fall th' roads is so muddy, In winter ther drifted with snow, An' 'n spring th' mud is repeated, B3^ June in the dust he must go. Kf it hain't one thing it's another T' make him feel mizzerble low. Then they's th't dirtj'^ old school-house, 'Tain't fit fer t' stable a cow : Th' ceilin' all frescoed with spit-balls Thet's stuck frum th' fust 5^ear tell now, Th' winders without anj^^ curtains, — A comfortless place, you'll allow. They hain't a tree th't stands nigh it T' keep off th' blisterin' sun Th't strikes straight through them old winder.-* 10 MY VIEW AND HISN. In th' childern's eyes— ev'r}' one Scorchin' an' parchin' an' blindin' Tell th' long afternoon is done. It's jest ez bad in th' winter Fer th' glare uv th' dazzlin' snow Shines through them unshaded winders All day with it's pitiless glow: An' cracks in th' weatherboardin' Lets in all th' winds th't blow. M}' son, he don't see it thet way ; He belives th't teachin's a trade Much better 'n farmin' or physick Or th'n sellin' dress goods 'n braid ; Th't next to preachin' comes teachin' An' th't teachers is born 'n not made. He says th't them little childern Is learnin' him some ev'ry day,— Somethin' he'd either forgotten Or th't never come in his way ; Thet his mind's brighter 'n better An' th't thet alone would be pay. He says th't thet narrer school room Is th' big world copied out small, Where students uv human nacher Can find little samples uv all Th' bodies, brains, dispositions, Thet crowd this terrestrial balL MY VIE W AND HIS'M 11 He says th't th' work uv teachin' Is somethin' noble an' grand ; Thet th' unknown hard-worked teacher Toda}^ holds fast in his hand Sliapin' fer good er fer evil Th' destin}^ iiv our Land. He saj^s th't it learns him patience At th' same time thoroughness As he tries t' toiler th' pattern Uv One who will surely bless Th' work uv th' humblest teacher Thet strives in His footsteps t' press. A LAWYER'S VALENTLXK. AGAIN I rise to greet the da^^ That wakens life and feeling, That brings the songster's sweetest la}" His happiness revealing; The foremost courier of the Ma3\ Announcing her in gladness, The springtime sunshine's earliest ray To banish thoughts of sadness. Full oft I've known the time return. Without one fond emotion To wake this heart, so grave and stern, To Love's own sweet devotion. The fancies fair, that fill the air i* THE LAWYER'S VALENTINE. Upon this happy season, Could not keep house with heav}- care And stolid sober reason. But now, a vision floats about The must and dust of volumes And with its presence puts to rout My figures in their columns. A precedent, I can't forget, Is not the one I've cited. And gentle ansivers haunt me yet, My plea not half indited. And now, I've written "Valentine" Upon the deed I'm framing- Right in the middle of the line ! The senior would be blaming This member of the firm Did he but know the courting That takes my mind this term — A suit I'm just reporting. Dark eyes, that smile above the page, With tender timid glances. Would melt the heart of any flint, Or blind a lawyer's senses ; The scarlet lips that tempt my own, Their pearl}^ treasures showing. The lovely brow, a cloud (dark brown) Of hair about it blowing-; The echo of a half-breathed "3'es," Called "no" the instant after, THE LAWYER'S VALENTINE. U Because you would not then confess. But fled with mocking- laughter ; And, after that, the long-, long kiss I took, your lips compelling To yield me all the tenderness Denied me in the telling-. I call the vision "Valentine" By all the loves of ages — I call it and I make it mine. Recorded in these pages ; And, lest thou doubt my right to do it, I'll simply sig-n myself to prove it, Forever and forever thine — Thine, and thine onl};, Valentine. JUxNE. OH, the happy, happ^^ time When in merr}^, merr}^ chime, With sweetly sounding voices Karth carols and rejoices To the merry, merr}^ tune Taught her by the joyful June. Oh, the jo3'ful, jo3^ful time ! To be sad were now a crime. Above ga}^ birds are singing. Below the flowers are springing. u JTSE. All to deck the g^olden noon Of the aunny days of June. Oh. the quiet, quiet time ! Stillness of a balmy clime. In lang^uid ease reposing At daylig^ht's dewy closing. Guarded by the tender moon. Dream we of the lovely June. PARTING SONG. MEM'RY'S wand calls up tonight The past with all it's shade and light. Thoughts are with the days of yore— Oh. happy days, they come no more. Thinking of the friends they brought. Rememb'ring all the changes wrought. Sadness fills each heayy heart. As now from classmates loved we part. Cho. — May our lives lead up always. Illumined by the Sun's bright rays. Till, surrounded by His light. Our class shall never say good night. Let us hoi>e the years gone by Are but the steps to those on High. That together there, as here. All those whom we have held so dear — PJLRIJyG SOXG. Teachers, classmates, one and al], Xot one name inissing^ from the call. Will have left a raemry fraught With earnest deeds and loving thought. Xow farewell ! Hope doth us show A fiowerv path, but who can know When the rose will show its thorn. How soon the clouds obscure the mom ': One there is. and one alone. The future can to us make known. Waiting^ hearts, bow down in prayer That God will hold us in His care. TO A DARWINIAN. OUT of the protoplasm In Chaos* darkest chasui Went forth two molecules By evolution's rules. These, gathering and uniting. — You see I'm Darwin citing — With other molecules. Became two wondrous fools. And they were. I opine. You and your valentine. Now this has quite assured me That I'm the foolish one for Ihee And you're the only fool for me. So. of two fools, let one fool be. THAXKSGIVING DAY THANKSGIVIXG DAY. TIMK waits to gather in toda3^ With all his hoarded treasures. The smiles and tears, the hopes and fears. The joys, the griefs, the pleasures. The prayers, the vows, the prophecies, The failures and successes. The tares and wheat— true grain or cheat Just as they stood, together. That side b}^ side, for nian}^ a daj' Through fair and darksome weather. Have grown and ripened, leaf l)}- leaf. To form the year's full rounded sheaf. And as the Reaper cuts and binds The harv^est for our sowing A tricksome fanc}^ round it winds A wreath so bright and glowing^ Forgetful of the tares and cheat. Remembering but the golden wheat. We grieve to find the harvest past And wish that June could always last. But. since for us this iriay not be, We look upon our sheaf and see The flowers that hide what's poor and nie;in. The grain that looks so fair and clean. And think that sure no other 3'ear Hath ever brought such rare good cheer. And so we «:ather round the board THAIsKSGlVING DAY. With Autumn's bount}' richl}^ stored, And quip and jest fly to and fro And toasts are drunk and songs are sunt; * * * * The dancers range themselves in row, The fiddle now is quickl}^ strung, And to its romping- merr^' tune They dance the "Ole Virginn}- Reel," The "Fisher's Hornpipe,'' "Old Zip Coon," The "double shuffle." (Nimble heel That takes to dance it well, you see) And "Patting Juba," — all the list Of fanc3^ steps, from pigeon wings To pigeon-foes. Each one his best With all the odd, outlandish flings To rouse a rival's jealousy. The merry games that children know Find older plajers on this day ; And matron staid and grandsire graj- In "blind man's buff" rush to and fro. At last around the chimney wide We draw our chairs close, side by side, And speak of all those happy da3^s, Thanksgiving days, that went their waj'S Long years ago ; of friends that met Together here, now gone before ; Of how toda}^ we miss them, 3^et We hope to meet them all once more ; Of that glad Daj^ Thanksgiving Da} , That dawns upon our earthl}^ wa}- To cheer us as we gentl}' go iA THANKSGIVING DAY. Adovvn the vale to cross the stream That ripples on the other shore. And, while we talk, the fire burns low With strangely fitful flickering gleam ; The shadows lengthen on the floor Then slowly climb along the wall, And thoughtful silence wraps us all. And then the grandsire slowly kneels And from his place there upward steals. At first in accents faint with tears And then in triumph o'er all fears, A prayer— so full of faith and love It seems to lift us all above The clouds that often hide the way That leads us to Thanksgiving Day. '•THE YEARS GLIDE BY." THE 3^ears glide by, dear friends. The years glide b3^ lake ripples on a shoreless sea Where all be3^ond is mystery And all behind is memor\\ The j^ears glide b}-. And. as our gallant bark, Today, vSails gail}^ on her course awa}-, The 3^ears, that never, never stay. Glide swiftlj^ by. Far, far astern a glittering trace Is all that's left to mark the place ''THE YEABS GLIDE BYr Where our Today passed other days As the}^ went b} . And there the g-limmering- light and shade Of joy and mirth, bright hopes betra3-ed. Show for a moment ; while they fade The years g-lide b}-. But, oh, my friends, the years that glide So swiftly to the farther side ~ Thoug-h they g-lide hy To fade at last in shadowed night. Come, bright with morning-'s glorious ligiit, Rring-ing- us ever new delig-ht. As the3^ glide by. Yet never mourn their speed}^ flight; Because, each tiny moment bright Speaks of a Land that knows no nig-lit. Though 3^ears g-lide by. And surely, thoug-h beyond our sig-ht, For us, if we but steer arig-ht, "There is a Land of Pure Delight," Where the years g-lide b3% dear friends. The years g-lide b3^ zr> ARBUTUS. OH, sweet the warmth of sunny skies. Where all things dream in deep repose And bright the flower that blooms and dies Below the belt of frosts aud snows ! Kissed by the sun to scarlet hue ARBUTUS. It ilaiiies in brilliant beaut}^ forth, And never feels the winds that strew The frailer blossoms of the north. Bathed in the copious dew of night, It's color deepens and it goes, To meet the morning, all bedight In deepest tint of velvet rose. One calls it perfect in its grace, The queen of all that bud and bloom. J never loved an empty vase — What niore's a flower without perfume : Ml/ floweret blooms 'neath colder skies, And faint and few are the rays that fall Where, all snow wrapped, it hidden lies. I prize it, though — yes, more than all. The bleak fall winds and the cold fall rains The sunless days and the frosts and snows. All come and go, while an old year wanes. All come and go, while a new j^ear grows. And, while the earth still in darkness sleeps, From its bed of leaves in 3^ floweret peeps And shines in its beaut}- under the snow. Just tinged with a blush by the winds that blow. The flower hides away 'neath the leaf's dark green And buds and blossoms alone, unseen. While the spring wind bears on it's wings of air A whiff of an odor both rich and rare ; Faint it may be, till some passing foot, Straj^ed from the path, breaks the tender shoot That 3delds its sweetest perfume with life. And so, my sweet, from the turmoil and strife, ARBUTUS. 21 From the winds of doubt and the rain of tears, From the frosts and snows and the grief of 5^ears. You have grown to the perfect, pure, sweet flower That will live in my heart till it's latest hour. But frosts must come and skies must lower And rain must fall, for the perfect flower. So, bloom the more brightly 3'ou will, I know, For the fairest flowers open under the snow. And tend'rest hands brush the flakes awa}- To gather Arbutus' delicate spra}-. IN MEMORY OF HELEN NINDK KING. LOiie of the sweetest and purest souls that ever blessed thi? arth with tender ministrations has passed up higher. And we wh( re left are desolate in our bereavement of a life that blessed all tlun- lives that ever felt its influence.] SO little time! Oh, God, so short the space To whisper tender, loving words. To look upon a precious face ! So little time ! (Oh, God, how swift it flies) To feel the toucli of trembling hands To meet the glance of earnest e3'es, So little time ! Oh, God, a moment brief To feel the kiss of loving lips On lips all dumb with grief ! IN MEMO SI AM. So little time ! Thank God, the time will be But brief that we must work alone. Then time shall be eternity. A little time, Thank God, and quickly gone. Oh, then, why should we grieve r So soon will our tomorrow dawn. TO THE MEMORY OF OUR CLASSMATE, JENNIE ARMSTRONG. WHEN the shades of night are falling, When our labor's day is done. We can hear loved voices calling From the Land be3'ond the sun. Ah ! One voice has called but lately, One form we almost can see ; Tiine has not the vision faded. Oh, we often think of thee! Friend, most fortunate of all, We are left to wait awhile. "Bide a w^ee" must we and then We ma}- meet thy welcome smile. Can Death break the chain of Friendship? Can it he that Love has flown r No I In heaven reuniting We may claim thee as our own. Through our tears we read the promise Fulfilled there, but given here. TO A NOVEMBER VIOLET. And through sorrow we are slowlj^ Upward led, be\'ond the bier. Yes, in heaven shall we see thee ; Could we hold this promise ever Brighter would the future shine. Now the present seems forever. TO A NOVEMBER VIOLET. OH Flower of Spring, that lingered here to cheer The briefer daj-light of a ling'ring fall, Speak to my darling of another year — Of vines that drape an humble cottage wall. Of Vjirds that build beneath its slanting eaves And swing upon the rose-branch at the door ; Of hope that bourgeons with the budding leaves, And Love that waxes more and more. Smile in her face, n\\ flower, and see tin-self Reflected in the dark depths of her dusk}- e3-es. vSmile, for the answer of her bending lips Shall stir th}- beauty with a new, a sweet surprise. Nestle against her cheek, my wee blue flower And dream of summer winds and sunnj^ da3^s ; Breathe in her ear a murmur of that hour When last I saw her lovel}^, flower-like face. And tell her, oh, my bonny blossom blue, Tell her, oh, tell her, violets are true ; Tell her I work and wait for her alone And tell her, winter will ere long have flown. TO ISABEL. TO ISABKL. A SUMMER'S leaf, that idly sways and falls, Mayhap is gathered up and pressed from curious eyes awa5^ Though faded, sere and brown, it still recalls The happ5^ days, whose hours did blithel}- dance, forever bright and ga5^ So of these hours, that have so quickl}- passed. Renienibrance garners up some brighter one and hides it safe away With other reliques of the golden Past. And, as around the leaf an odor clings Redolent of fair daj^s and warin south winds, clover and new-mown hay, To older j-ears the hour's bright mem'ry brings A sweeter fragrance still, that scents the inner closets of the heart, So. round thy pictured face there cluster thick The forms of those who came and went and in the summer play took part ; — That play, whose happy scenes passed all too quick! Then wandering vibrations come to me, Echoed from 'long ago," to voice this pla}' of phantoms from the past. Ah. that the shades might prove realit}' And each new summer, in delight a repetition of the last ! An idle wish — but in the wishing sweet ; The plaj^ is plajed -the players parted to their distant theaters. TO ISABEL -r, Perchance ne'er more upon one stage to meet. And other pla3'ers shall rehearse our pla}- to other listeners ; For others shall the days go happiU. While other friends shall gather round the board v.here we were welcome guests And other hands deal hospitalitj^ ; Upon the boughs, within whose shade we dreamed, there will be other nests ; Our blossoms will for fresher flowers give place. But, in the time to come, no time will ever be, no friends will seem. Like b3'-gone times and friends of other days. The fair\^ forms that till the fairest dreams Can not compare with those revealed when memory's taper burns And shows a happy glimpse of "long ago." Wherein is but one dark inscription found, and that ("It ne'er returns" , Repeated b}' each 3'ear that comes to go And. in a chorus sad. re-echoed on the borders of Today. So, as the present soon will be the past. However pleasant, bright and gay, but momentary in its sta\'. Well wish Tomorrow like Today And everv summer like the last. FALLING LEAVES. OCTOBER ! and a gentle breath Comes softly, like the last faint si; That parts the lips ere might}' Death :"■' FALLING LEAVES. Usurps Sleep's throne of in3^ster3\ The south wind blows ; how g-entl}- now It stirs the dj-ing- leaves that hang- Their feverish crimson on that bough Where once, 'mid springing green, there rang The wild sweet notes of happj^ birds Whose little throats seemed pouring forth The j^ear's new joy, — too deep for words, (For words go halting from their birth.) The air is filled with leaves that fall As pliant tree tops bend before The breeze that lightlj^ stirs them all And piles the rustling heaps with more. The distance glimmers through a haze That wraps it with a veiling charm. As if to dim the hues that blaze From yonder woodland Ijang warm Upon the sunnj^ slope that trends Full southward, till one scarce maj- saj- If some bright cloud that lowlj^ bends Be cloud or mountain far awaj-. FROM THE PAST. ITH the ebb tide and flood of the 3'ears To us both man}- changes have come. We have marked them in mirth or in tears Da}' b}' da 5' as we reckoned their sum. You are there and I here, and between — W FEOM THE FAST. Far, far greater than mile-iiieasured space— Our lives' opposite paths intervene, Paths that we ne'er may hope to retrace. As I mnse on the days of my youth Oh, how fondly I love to recall, In their tenderness honor and truth, The dear friends that I loved, one and all. Oh, the amber of mem'r}^ will hold Still embalmed in its own golden glow These fair wraiths of the glad days of old While I live to remember and know. But I start when some long quiet form Is disturbed by a breath frora^oday And before me stands living and warm When I thought I had laid it away So securel}^ no sull3ang stain From the grim smoking battle of life And no throb of life's sorrow or pain E'er could reach it and wake it to strife. Oh, my friend ! as you come from my Past Thus to enter my Present, I shrink ; For too well do I know that, at last. There will shatter or strengthen one link In the friendships I prized long ag^o. But, when stripped of the graces of Then, Oh, I wonder shall I surelj^ know M}^ old friend when I meet him again Full}' grown to the stature of Now ? Shall I find stainlevSS honor and truth Still enthroned, as of 3^ore, on his brow? Tlien thrice welcome, dear friend of m}^ 3^outh, ''NOT HEBE, BUT BISEN,'' As you pass from my vision again Stepping- back from the Now to the Tlien You will fade to a phantom once more, — With the shades from the loved haunts of 3^ore Still illumed b}^ the ambient glow That aye brightens the dear Long Ago. "NOT HERE, BUT RISEN." [[n Memory of Minnie Besley Welles, Died March 24. 1892.1 N O, not for her the hue of darkness born ; She greets^the light of an Eternal Morn. Bring not for her the sable badge of death Who knows but now the 303^ of Heaven's first breath. "Not here, but risen," this shall be Written for all who come to see. Since first beside an open tomb. Dispelling all its awful gloom, The angel on that glorious day Forever rolled the stone away, The eye of Faith may ever see Not Death but Immortalit3^ "Not here, but risen," — let the white Of Easter lilies meet the light. So fair and sweet they well may be The sign of what we can not see — Her life's sweet bud of purity Unfolding in Eternity. TBE OLD GRA Y HOBS'E. -^9 THK OLD GRAY HORSE. A SORRY old nag was the old gray horse. With his roughened coat and shaggj- mane And his undipped locks 'bove his well-worn shoes And his knotted tail fringed with frozen rain. And, as he soberly went on his way Through the mud and sleet in the morning gra}-, Ver}^ few, very few would have dared to saj^ "There was once a time when this old horse gray ''Was a brisk young nag (in the days that are past) And had even been dubbed, in those earl 3^ days 'fast. But there had been a time when men shook their heads And had even declared that the 3^oung gray colt, With his swinging trot at a lightning like pace, (Which differed so much from the regular jolt) Would never do aught excepting to race. "For an honest day's work," said they, one and all, "He'll be likely to balk and be sure to stall." But a patient head and a loving hand Were guiding the gray colt's bridle rein ; And, although with many a fret and pain, He learned to know when to stop and to stand. And little by little he learned the fact That, to always be able the right to act. For horses, as well as for men, it is true A moderate course is the best to pursue. So, jogging along through the dust or the rain, W EVENING. Over the hill and over the plain, When it is wet and when it is dry The old gray horse goes patientl}^ by, Carefully plodding where it is rough. Cheerfully trotting where smooth enough, Doing his best and doing his all, Never known to balk, never known to stall. People may talk with a jeer or a frown Of his long-haired coat with its mud-stains brown Maj'^ laugh at the quaintly bundled up knot That nods behind to his regular trot ; But the old gray horse with an unmoved face Goes quietly by at the same old pace. EVENING. DAISIES white are softly blooming, Roses sweet are now perfuming All the air with fragrance rare ; Dew drops pure are clearly shining Where the vines their leaves are twining Evening fair has not a care. Evening winds are gently blowing ; Patient cows are softly lowing, At the gate they stand and wait For the milkmaid's tardy coming, Tokened bj^ her distant humming. That she's late is due to Fate. EVENING. in Fate has sent a lover suing For her hand in earnest wooing. Promises of faithfulness I^ove and tenderness he pledges, While the thrush from out the hedges Still sings on of love that's gone. She forgets now that the morrow Has no certainty but sorrow. Present joy has no alloy. Blythely sings she of her lover While the birds about her hover, Charmed by her tuneful cry. Maiden, lovers are deceiving. Birds and flowers will soon be leaving. Winter drear will soon be here. Tend thy kine, so patient waiting While thy lover is berating Time that lags and slowly drags. All impatient of thy staying, Of thy long and late delaying. Up and down with many a frown He, with hasty stepping, paces. Thinking on thy blushing graces. Haste to him, the light grows dim. Twilight all too soon advances. Robbing him of thy coy glances. Mistress calls that darkness falls. ^i3 BABY. Maiden, enter quick th}^ dwelling-, Never heeding- what he's telling Of a love that time will prove. Love tonight's a vesper chiming In a tender heartfelt timing ; At each beat it grows more sweet. But the morrow brings complaining Of the little love remaining. Maiden, all have felt it's thrall. BABY. A TINY, grass-grown grave Where fern-fronds gentlj^ wave To the music cf the rill Echoed by a distant hill. The stranger only sees Statel}^ bending, wind-blown trees And beneath a tinj^ mound Which to him is naught but ground. That is all : for human eyes May not see the tears which rise As the inother calls to mind Baby fingers that still bind, Bab3^ waj^s that still shall charm While her mother heart is warm. BabjM Word of matchless grace! Calling up the rosebud face Framed in waves of beaten gold, A POTATOLESS DINNER. ^is Dimples, more than can be told, Grave eyes, in whose azure deeps A world of thoug-ht in silence sleeps. A POTATOLKSS DINNER. THE Turk lay steaming on the platter. The gravy flanked him on the right. Alas ! Whatever was the matter, Potatoes— i/iey "were out of sight." And sure, as I'm a living sinner. Controlled by some unlucky Fate, To crown this memorable dinner R. M. tipped o'er the gravy plate. There's one thing sure beyond all question- And only one— I'm thankful for. 'Tis that not one from indigestion Since left this earthl}^ seat of War. When next I have a Turk for dinner With pumpkin pie and cranberry sauce May she grow thin and thin and thinner Who makes my menu suffer loss. For if so much as one potato Escape the boiling of the pot, No matter how I reall}^ hate to, I'll ''give it to her" just "red-hot." 3k CHILDBEN'S SONGS. CHILDREN'S SONGS. SONG OF THE SHADOW FAIRIES. CHILDREN of the leaves and sunshine, Blythely dancing- all the daj^, To the bird-notes thrilling- sweetl}^ In a measure light and ga}^ ; Ever dancing, dancing, dancing, Ever while we maj^ ; Till the dew begins to fall And the twilight shadows all ; Then awaj^ we fly together Till tomorrow brings the sun, And the birds again are singing, singing, For, till then our play is done. Tripping o'er the dainty mosses Kneeling at a lil3^'s feet ; Chasing after whirling leaflets Nodding to the bowing wheat ; Ever dancing, dancing, dancing-, Still with footsteps fleet ; Kissing many flowers rare, Floating on the water fair; But at dusk we fly together To our hidden elfin home And await the morrow's coming, coming-; When the sun shines we maj^ roam. CHILDREN'S SONGS. S5 SONG II. BIRDIK in the tree-top singing, Silv'ry tones around you flinging, Why are you so bright and gay. Trilling, chirping, all the day ? Birdie, I do love to hear you Though I don't dare to come near you. You're so timid and so shy When I come away you fly. Birdie, you do sing so sweetly You have won my heart completely. Come again and sing to me From the blooming apple tree. SOMG III. MERRILY we sing for gladness Without one dark cloud of sadness. Music drives away all care So we sing as free as air. Merrily we sing for pleasure, In a joyous trilling measure ; Sweet and clear the notes resound. Here is purest pleasure found. m CHILDBEN'S SONGS. IV.— OUR HAPPY DAY. OUR happ3^ day is almost gone, Our song's are sung, our pla}^ is done. The blossoms, gathered fresh with dew, Are drooping in their places too. But in our hearts a fairer flower Grows sweeter with each passing hour, Our love is steadfast, pure and bright, Although we now must say good night. Cho. — Ma3^ He who loves the little ones Watch o'er us as we now shall part And grant that in a fairer home Grandpa shall clasp us to his heart. v.— THE MOCKING BIRD. A DARLING little mocking bird Was singing me a song Of all the sweetest tunes he'd heard Thro' all the day so long. He sang of what the robin told The blue-bird and the lark. How winter was so very cold And all the days were dark. CHILDREN'S SONGS. S7 But springtime with its happy hours Was coming- very soon To bring back all the lovel}^ flowers And happy days of June. And so my birdie sang to me, From out his loving breast, The song which all the birds so free Had taught him while at rest. Oh, darling little mocking bird ! He sang his song so well ! Of all the sounds I ever heard 'Twas like a silver bell. THE BEVNION. THE REUNION. PRELUDE. Dear Friends: It is nearly two months ago that the mail one day brouj^ht the request that I should commemorate in verse the work of the W. C. T. U. at the Soldiers' Reunion last fall. The request was soon followed by a budget in which, snugly hidden away, I found one of the badges worn by the W. C. T. U. committee during those memorable August days. It was in the first whirl of excited feeling— pride in things accomplished, hope for things to come— that the opening stanzas of the poem were, not inappropriately, I trust, dedicated to OUR BADGE. TODAY I feel my pulses leap In cadence with mj^ heart's wild beat. As one wakened from his sleep By the remUlee shrill yet sweet. And eag-er for the coming fray, I greet the present glorious day. A simple knot of ribbons tied, Red, white and blue placed side by side- Colors for which our heroes died, Emblem of freedom and of right, The symbol of our country's pride, Her Union and resistless might That bore her ever conquering— THE REUNION /A9 Has stirred my heart-string-s till the}' rimf In measure with the thoughts that flow Backward toward the * long ago." All hail our badge ! the pledge of right ; All hail our badge! the sign of power. All hail our badge! From Freedom's height We hail that grander, nobler hour When, Freedom's last dark foeman slain, Our countr3^'s banner shall display It's radiant folds without a stain, Unfurled where all the winds that pla}- About its white and crimson bars Are pure, untainted b}'^ the breath Of him who slays far more than Mars, And— far more cruel — by a death B3- which both soul and body fall. All hail our badge ! Once more we cr}-, And down, yes down, with Alcohol ! Ring out the shout to 3^onder skj'^ ! Cheer once again red, white and blue, And to our trust let each be true ! United let us fall or stand For God, for Home and Native Land. THE REUNION. From all the neighboring countrj^-side, From town and hamlet far and wide, The}^ gathered here that August da}^ : And some were gray and bent with years, JtU THE EEUXION. And some were strong and bright and gay. Though on some faces there were tears All mingled with the smiles the^^ gave To their old comrades grand and brave— For some were only shattered wrecks Of the grand manhood the}^ had known Since he who serves his country recks But little of his flesh and bone. In uniforms of faded blue The}' gathered to their rendezvous At old Camp Allen, as they did Some twenty years or more ago When Lincoln called them forth to rid Their land of slavery's dark woe. Around the camp fire's ruddy blaze They told the tales of other days ; Recounted oft the dangers shared, Privations bitter, hardships known ; Told o'er and o'er the way they fared On rust}^ bacon and corn pone. We welcomed them, our soldiers true With hearts and hands and voices, too ; We welcomed them who gave their all For God and Home and Native Land. Alas! That many a rebel ball Had thinned the ranks of that brave band I In mem'ry of our gallant dead Who nobly fought for right and bled, Yielding their lives in Freedom's need THE BEUNION. 41 For God, for Home and Native Land — All praise, all honor be their meed, Who dared to die, our hero band. THE PROCESSION. Adown the street the}' marched along- And, as the}' marched, the gathered throng Gave cheer on cheer and cheered again. Before them marched in proud array Band after band of strong 3'oung men, Gathered in honor of the day, — Cadets and guards— as if again Proud War had marshalled all his host, His pomp to show, his strength to boast; While prancing steed and banners bright, The gleam of brightly polished steel Klectric in the sun's white light, A brilliant pageant all reveal. And then the veterans, battle-scarred. With faces seamed, hands brown and hard, With tattered flags, in well-worn blue, With battered knapsacks, rusty guns, Some propped on wooden pins, a few With empt}^ hanging sleeves, and all Bearing the marks of toil and care Marched in the place of honor there. And louder rang the deafening cheer 4^-' THE EEUNION For them than for the splendid show That went before them,— loud and clear For those who vanquished Freedom's foe. Down many a cheek tears coursed like rain As slowl}^ passed the veteran train ; And throbbing- hearts felt o'er again The grief, the woe, the weary pain That long ago had crushed them when Their heroes died. Though not in vain They died, grief mastered pride And ever wept "They died ! Thej^ died !" And now their comrade's inarching by Stirred from the lethargy of years The slumbering grief, to wake and cry And spend itself in bitter tears. Then peace with all her busy crew Triumphant brought her trophies too ; Here tapestries of rich design, There spade and plow and rake and hoe. Here boots and shoes, there fabrics fine, And more besides, — a goodly show. And what came next?" Our deadliest foe ! Enthroned and canopied to go. Borne like some t3^rant king of old. To mock our triumph, taunt our pride, To waste our strength and steal our gold. To scatter ruin far and wide. Surrounded b}^ his minions base There he defied us to our face ; THE REUNION. j^3 Fluttered his banners in the air, Libations poured of foaming- beer In Satan's honor ; Boldly there, Upon his face a vicious leer, He rode — embodiment of evil, all That devils are— King Alcohol. Full man}'- a victim v^rore his chain ; E'en some who conquered slavery Were marked by his foul black'ning stain, The stamp of shame and misery. And so the long line passed along Amid the vast and surging throng That lined the roadside, wild to view Their soldier heroes as they marched Down to the camp-ground, tramping through The streets, all dusty, dry and parched, Of Kekionga's olden site ; Where myriad tents of snow}^ white Gleamed near St. Mar3^'s flowing- tide They went, in all the pomp of might, Down to the pleasant riverside. OUR VICTORY. But as the martial host went down, Out from the crowded dusty town. One haughty rider turned him back ; Alone, like some grim vanquished king, Wended alonp- the beaten track, THE BEUKION. Back to his strong-hold hastening. With sneer and jeer and bravado As if defeat had galled him so He fain would turn it all to jest, Back to his own dark gloomy hall, Back with a sadly drooping crest, Back with his slaves came Alcohol. For round that camp there stood a guard, Vigilant, keeping- watch and ward Over the souls of those who slept Sheltered beneath the tents that night : A band of women nobly kept Guard, and their watchword was ''The Right." Ah, yes ! The right of strength and health, The right of happiness and wealth. Of "Peace on Earth, Good Will to Men," Of joy in Heaven around the throne ; The angels echoed it again "Right shall henceforth on Karth be known." Within their charmed circle there Not even Alcohol might dare ; For Temperance Fair stood joined with Right For God, for Home and Native Land. And sure it was a pleasant sight To look upon— that gentle band. Wearing a higher Freedom's badge. Linked b3^ the holj^ Temperance pledge, Bearing sweet flowers and kindly words, THE REUNION. 45 Forth through the mighty host they went, Free as the swift-winged wildwood birds. On their great mission all intent. No glittering shield was theirs to wear And never weapon did they bear. The simple knot of ribbon gave Protection throughout all the field, And those whom they had come to save Rev'rence by word and act revealed. And oh, the triumph of that hour ! Freed for the time from Evil's power, "Tenting upon the old camp ground" Our gallant soldiers revelled there, And oft there rose the martial sound Of old war songs that filled the air. But throughout all the merry crowd. Though often laughter rose aloud, Never was heard the maudlin song ; All with one spirit seemed imbued And Temperance ruled the might}^ throng. Long will we hail the victory grand For God, for Home, for Native Land Gained on the old camp ground that day. Long will our fainting pulses thrill At the rememb'rance of the way The women worked their noble will. Long will the thanks they gave us cheer Us in our long hard struggle here ! Long will we hope for greater things ! 46 THE EEUNION. As we did conquer so we n\3.y ; With this bright niem'r}^ fresh hope springs That soon shall dawn that Grander Day When, free from Alcoholic thrall, No more before such power to fall, Acknowledging- the sovereign sway Of Temperance fair, our men shall stand Tn moral freedom ; — this we pra}^, Oh God, for Home and Native Land. CONCLUSION. Let us rally round the badge, friends, rallj^ once again ! Shouting the Temperance cry of Freedom ! We will swell the loftj^ strain, till the skies shall ring again, Shouting the Temperance cry of Freedom. Chorus— For Freedom forever, be brave, friends, be brave, Death to Alcohol ! Who'd be his slave? Yes we'll rally round our badge, friends, rall3^ once again. Shouting the Temperance cry of Freedom. Oh, we'll rally here with you, round the dear *'red, white and blue," Shouting the Teinperance cry of Freedom ! THE REVNION. We have bound our ribbon white with our countr5^'s colors bright, Shouting the Temperance cry of Freedom. We will banish shame and woe with our last and deadliest foe, Shouting the Temperance cry of Freedom ! And together we will stand for God, Home and Native Land, Shouting the Temperance cry of Freedom. [Read at the Indiana State Convention. \y. G.TTJ., ISHa, in memory of the work done by the Fort Wayne W. C. T. U. the preced- ing fall at the Soldiers' Reunion.]