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An Early Scene Revisited 
 
 9i ^oem 
 
 BY 
 
 JOHN WITT RANDALL 
 
 EDITED BY 
 
 FRANCIS ELLINGWOOD ABBOT 
 
 2.r^7. 
 
 'X 
 
 CAMBRIDGE 
 JOHN WILSON AND SON 
 
 Mtttijcrsitg ^Press 
 1894 
 
 \ 
 
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 •t^^ 
 
 1^ ^'V 3 
 
 Copyright, 1894, 
 By Francis Ellingwood Abbot. 
 
 A/l rights reserved. 
 
 ©nig ©ne l^unHreU Copies ^rinteti. 
 
AN EARLY SCENE REVISITED 
 
 '^ntka^^ 
 
AN EARLY SCENE REVISITED. 
 
 I. 
 
 WEET scene ! Oh, how the sight of you once 
 *^ more brings to my mind 
 
 Joys fled so long my very heart hath left them now 
 behind ! 
 
 1 move unknown 'mongst faces strange, where once I 
 
 knew them all ; 
 Throughout the village there was scarce a dog but 
 
 knew my call. 
 Ye loved ones of my childhood, kind neighbors once 
 
 so dear, 
 I scarce dare look amongst these graves, lest I should 
 
 find you here. 
 All new ! There 's nothing meets my eye familiar as 
 
 of yore, 
 Save these dark, venerable elms, and the skies that 
 
 arch them o'er. 
 All round about my wondering eyes turn on from 
 
 stone to stone. 
 And note the friends that once were mine, — a list of 
 
 names alone ! 
 
6 AN EARLY SCENE REVISITED, 
 
 II. 
 
 Yet one was here I cannot find. '* Pray, Sexton, do 
 
 you know 
 A stone marked ' B,' was planted here some twenty 
 
 years ago? " 
 " I scarce can tell, and yet methinks just such a stone 
 
 I Ve seen 
 In the border of yon gravel walk, that runs across the 
 
 green." 
 "Why was it moved?" "Good sir, each spring to 
 
 yonder rows are borne 
 The stones o'er folks long dead, for whom are now 
 
 none left to mourn." 
 " I grieve for this, good Sexton, for the very spot I 'd 
 
 find 
 Where sleeps the early friend who freshly yet lives in 
 
 my mind. 
 Fain would I stand beside the mound and let one tear- 
 drop flow. 
 In memory of the many tears I shed so long ago." 
 
 III. 
 
 "You've known this town before, sir?" "Yes, and 
 
 would I knew it still ! 
 Five happy years I spent at school, the school upon 
 
 the hill, 
 Hid in the pleasant linden grove; the house I do not 
 
 see." 
 
AN EARLY SCENE REVISITED. 7 
 
 ''You'll see It, sir, from yonder walk; 'tis the soap- 
 factory, 
 And the linden-grove, a brewery, is knee-deep in mud, 
 
 I trow." 
 " Alas, how beautiful of old ! " " You would not know 
 
 it now — 
 Absent how long, pray?" "Twenty years." "Oh, sir, 
 
 this town is grown. 
 And much improved since then ; new buildings raised ; 
 
 the old pulled down. 
 New streets and shops you '11 find ; 't was but a rural 
 
 district then; 
 A city now, twelve thousand strong, with mayor and 
 
 aldermen." 
 
 IV. 
 
 "But the fine old church — I see it not! — all built of 
 
 granite gray. 
 Two rows of windows, and a spire that shone ten miles 
 
 away." 
 " The fashion changed ; they tore it down, and built 
 
 whereon it stood 
 Yon Gothic one, I think they call 't." " What, friend ! 
 
 That thing of wood. 
 Whose pinnacles of gingerbread, that ever seem to 
 
 quake. 
 Shoot up from planks so white you 'd think the whole 
 
 a frosted cake? 
 
8 AN EARLY SCENE REVISITED. 
 
 And the bell that rang so merrily, so mournfully that 
 
 tolled, 
 I would not it were cracked, good man, for all its 
 
 weight in gold." 
 " It tolls no more, but, set in brick and turned up 
 
 toward the sky, 
 They sold it for a vat, sir, to the brewery hard by." 
 
 V. 
 
 '' And the good old clergyman, — he, too, hath long 
 
 been gone, I fear. 
 He had a smile for all who joyed; for all who grieved, 
 
 a tear. 
 Where is he? Tell me, is he dead? I mean old 
 
 Parson N." 
 ** They kept him for a spell, sir, till his sight grew dim, 
 
 and then, 
 As they 'd built a brand-new church and put the pulpit 
 
 in repair, 
 A deaf, old, rusty parson, who had neither teeth nor 
 
 hair, 
 Seemed a mean thing to keep, sir; and so it came to 
 
 pass, 
 They could n't knock him in the head, but turned him 
 
 out to grass,- — 
 Like an old horse past work; and yet they should 
 
 have found him hay. 
 They could n't afford a span, and so the old one 
 
 turned away. 
 
AN EARLY SCENE REVISITED. 9 
 
 VI. 
 
 '* The young one was right smart, sir, and had been 
 
 upon the stage; 
 Unlike the old-fogy preachers of the narrow bygone 
 
 age, — 
 Had no particular doctrine save that ' buttered bread is 
 
 best,' 
 But gave in words their money's worth, and left to 
 
 heaven the rest. 
 His sentences were exquisite, and tipped full oft with 
 
 rhyme ; 
 His hits and points like razors keen, the sharpest of 
 
 their time. 
 His greatest masterpiece each year upon Fast-day he 
 
 read ; 
 He painted there the poor man's doom who steals a 
 
 loaf of bread. 
 The rich all heard it with delight, but the poor ('t was 
 
 somewhat queer) 
 Lacked taste to admire a saint who spent three thousand 
 
 crowns a year. 
 
 VII. 
 
 " One foolish fellow said the priest was too well-fed to 
 
 preach. 
 And Virtue's standard set so high that none might 
 
 hope to reach. 
 
 2 
 
lO AN EARLY SCENE REVISITED. 
 
 He deemed those words of warning with far greatei 
 
 weight would fall, 
 If he himself had grazed upon the sour side of the 
 
 wall. 
 'T was said he 'd been a gambler, reformed some time 
 
 ago. 
 Which made him very popular; we couldn't keep him, 
 
 though ! 
 His salary was too small, and, when his preaching fit 
 
 was o'er, 
 I grieve to say he left us, and to gambling went once 
 
 more — 
 Has now become a candidate for Congress, as I hear; 
 He failed last season, but they think to get him in 
 
 next year." 
 
 vni. 
 
 '^ And the wise physician, friend of all the village, where 
 
 is he? 
 Near yonder corner, surely, the low brown house should 
 
 be. 
 A lovely brook flowed through the ground, and flowers 
 
 of thousand dyes 
 The green banks gemmed, and there we used to walk 
 
 and botanize. 
 The flowers, perhaps, have perished; hath the streamlet 
 
 failed as well?" 
 '* The house was burned, some years ago, where stands 
 
 yon brick hotel. 
 
AN EARLY SCENE REVISITED. n 
 
 And the brook, that 's now the common sewer, runs 
 
 arched beneath the street. 
 As for the man (t 'was so he willed), yon rock is at 
 
 his feet, 
 With scarlet lichens crowned, and at his head a maple 
 
 tree." 
 "Ah, long-lost friend, how oft did I enjoy such things 
 
 with thee ! " 
 
 IX. 
 
 ** He used to wonder much that men, by superstitious fears, 
 Should render death more dreadful than in Nature it 
 
 appears ; 
 He oft would smile, in passing, at the figures on the 
 
 stones. 
 And say they ne'er should garnish him with death's- 
 heads and cross-bones; 
 And that no other monument should stand above his 
 
 mould 
 Than the maple, which in fall would glow in crimson 
 
 and in gold. 
 And now the pines and spruces, which gird his grave 
 
 around. 
 Already with their last year's leaves have carpeted the 
 
 ground ; 
 And the maple soon, with crimson blush, will beautiful 
 
 appear. 
 And make his grave smile sweetly at the closing of 
 
 the year. 
 
12 AN EARLY SCENE REVISITED. 
 
 X. 
 
 "■ I 've heard him say : ' 'T is very true that evil doth 
 
 exist, 
 And 't is true the laws that govern us no mortal can 
 
 resist; 
 Yet, if we had the power to alter all things at our will, 
 We still should say 't were best that Nature's law 
 
 should govern still. 
 And I 'm glad to think so vast, although so dark, the 
 
 Almighty plan, 
 And that so little power to change hath been allowed 
 
 to man. 
 I often think within myself that this universe so grand 
 Must be made for some good reason that I do not 
 
 understand; 
 Nay, I deem it joy, not sorrow, to be fated to submit, 
 And, if I could, you may be sure I would not alter it.' 
 
 XL 
 
 "Once he said: 'Men seek but little this brief life to 
 
 adorn. 
 They live so hard, almost it seems a pity to be born ! 
 Life, merely flecked with sorrow, they make a scene of 
 
 woe, 
 But the fault is not in Nature — she has not made it so. 
 To do no wrong to any man, to wish all good to all, 
 In God's hand to rest trustfully, whether we stand or 
 
 fall, 
 
 . ^.y¥ 
 
AJV EARLY SCENE REVISITED. 13 
 
 And a cheerful disposition, which a good heart ever 
 
 brings, 
 Can yield at least contentment, in the lack of other 
 
 things. 
 We ask too much, and hence we lose the little that is 
 
 ours.' " 
 ** Oh, Sexton, give me one of those dear scarlet lichen 
 
 flowers ! " 
 
 XII. 
 
 " * Men are slaves to pride,' said he, ' much troubled 
 
 about wealth. 
 Though a hard crust with labor hard, good conscience, 
 
 and good health, 
 And the love of all one's neighbors, is enough. If 
 
 men were wise, 
 They'd smile to think "that any should deem this self- 
 sacrifice — 
 As if creed alone had made a rule of love for man to 
 
 obey ! 
 'T is but a fool his peace would seek in any other 
 
 way. 
 And, as for labor, if,' said he, ' it was the primal 
 
 curse. 
 The blessed state of idleness were infinitely worse. 
 If men were more enhghtened, how much happier they 
 
 might be ! ' " 
 '' Reach me, good friend, one single leaf from yonder 
 
 maple tree ! " 
 
14 
 
 AN EARLY SCENE REVISITED. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 ** Once he whispered with a smile, when the parson 
 
 wished to each 
 * A blessed death,' ' A blessed life were worthier far to 
 
 preach.' 
 And again : ' If, when a man might die, he could but 
 
 truly say 
 He had saved his honor and good name until he had 
 
 grown gray, 
 Had earned his bread (no more), did never wholly 
 
 starve or freeze, 
 Was never more than half his life a victim to disease. 
 Had but kept one friend in twenty, howe'er greatly to 
 
 his cost. 
 Had loved and had been loved, and, though all else 
 
 had long been lost, 
 Had saved his peace of mind at last, — few so happy 
 
 were as he.' " 
 "■ A little bit of that gray rock, O Sexton, break for 
 
 me!" 
 
 XIV. 
 
 '' He said, just ere he died, there were few lived half 
 
 their days; 
 Men with their bodies put their souls at war a thousand 
 
 ways; 
 That the senseless cramming of the one and the starving 
 
 of the other 
 Made man more cruel to himself than even to his brother. 
 
AN EARLY SCENE REVISITED. 
 
 15 
 
 * Dark hours,' he said, ' I Ve sought to mak^ more 
 
 cheerful all my life ; 
 I 've ever aimed to free my heart from bitterness and 
 
 strife. 
 By art I keep a smiling face, though gasping now for 
 
 breath ; 
 Do thou by art still make my grave look cheerful after 
 
 death.' 
 I said I would ! His face grew grave, nor did that 
 
 smile restore. 
 I 've kept my word ! " '' My thanks be thine ! We see 
 
 his like no more ! 
 
 XV. 
 
 " Now tell me one thing further, good Sexton, while I 
 
 stay ; 
 I '11 trouble you but briefly, for I long to be away. 
 Pray, know you aught of two fair maids, perhaps no 
 
 longer fair. 
 Who in the Gothic College dwelt, that stands by Lake 
 
 Sinclair? 
 They were most kind to me of old, — sire, mother, 
 
 brother, all. 
 And gave me friendly welcome ever, both in bower 
 
 and hall. 
 I dare not visit — tell, I ask, are all alive and well? 
 I ask, and yet I ask it not, and fear lest you should 
 
 tell." 
 
l6 AN EARLY SCENE REVISITED. 
 
 "Brentwood Hall, sir?" *' Yes, the same! Now speak 
 
 and quell my fears ; 
 Say that all live ! " " You know, sir, much takes place 
 
 in twenty years." 
 
 XVI. 
 
 "And now, friend, this is all I'd say; you know that 
 
 boys at school 
 Fall in love, and I with reason, as not used to play 
 
 the fool. 
 'T is long ago, yet, when one day, we walked beside 
 
 the lake. 
 The younger gave a lily, saying, * Keep it for my sake.' 
 Friends value such small trifles, and this to me was dear; 
 And I thought 't were sweet to show it safe and sound 
 
 some future year. 
 We danced together on the eve ; we parted, and I said, 
 * Though twenty years must separate, yet, if I live, fair 
 
 maid, 
 This lily shall return some future day, and o'er the 
 
 main 
 Shall come, though scentless, back with me, to visit 
 
 you again.' 
 
 XVII. 
 
 " 'T is twenty years to-day ! And I have kept it in a 
 
 book. 
 Pressed safely, hoping still, or by the lake or by the 
 
 brook. 
 
 V CJ» ,1 
 
AN EARLY SCENE REVISITED, 
 
 17 
 
 To show it yet unbroken, and say proudly, ' Do you 
 
 know 
 The Httle token that you gave so many years ago ? ' 
 Just twenty years to-day it is — God grant she Hveth 
 
 still ! 
 Good Sexton, all these other things may perish if they 
 
 will. 
 And Fate will I forgive, may I but spend one happy 
 
 hour 
 In weeping for the buried past, with her who gave this 
 
 flower. 
 Just twenty years to-day! Lives she? Oh, speak and 
 
 quell my fears ! " 
 " We were saying but just now, sir, imtch takes place 
 
 in twenty years ! 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 "You knew these folks? I'd gladly tell things pleasant 
 of the past; 
 
 My cottage was their gift — times changed — misfortunes 
 came at last. 
 
 The family decayed; the father died; the only son 
 
 For somewhat was disgraced, but I know not what he 
 had done. 
 
 The elder daughter left the place, and went I know not 
 where ; 
 
 The younger, cheerful alway, was unwilling to de- 
 spair, 
 
 3 
 
1 8 AN EARLY SCENE REVISITED. 
 
 And to help the aged mother took in sewing for a while. 
 And, when she died — 't was in my house — she pointed 
 
 with a smile 
 To an old book: 'I've nought but this; keep it, old 
 
 friend,' said she, 
 ' And save the rose, for 't was the gift of one most 
 
 dear to me.' " 
 
 XIX. 
 
 '* The rose was mine ! Now will I go to the fair lake 
 
 once more. 
 View the old garden and the house, and wander on the 
 
 shore. 
 And muse awhile ; then never will I see this place 
 
 again ! 
 I thank you, friend ! " *' Nay, wait awhile, your labor 
 
 is in vain. 
 The house is gone, the garden too, the pond is walled 
 
 about ; 
 An ice-house stands at every rod, half in the deep, 
 
 half out. 
 No beach there now." ** Say, neighbor, was she buried 
 
 by your hand? 
 Pray tell me where." " Oh, stranger, look ! Upon her 
 
 grave you stand." 
 *' Nay, nay, forgive, sweet Spirit, in whatever world 
 
 thou be, 
 O thou that dwellest in my heart, that I should tread 
 
 on thee ! 
 
 z> 
 
AN EARLY SCENE REVISITED. 
 
 XX. 
 
 19 
 
 '' O friends, and things I loved of old, and must you 
 
 be no more?" 
 " Stranger, I lack myself the power of loving as of 
 
 yore." 
 " Old man ! If all the world were mine, I 'd give the 
 
 world straightway. 
 Could I but make things what they were in that sweet 
 
 olden day." 
 " And I, if all earth's wealth were mine, would give it 
 
 with good will 
 To keep the wheel of change within the world's mill 
 
 turning still." 
 " Happy must be the man for whom each moment is 
 
 so blest. 
 You 've had no sorrow, then ; your heart beats quiet in 
 
 your breast. 
 Friend, were there e'er such men, why, surely he who 
 
 can forget 
 Past joys, nor wish them back, must find the present 
 
 happier yet." 
 
 XXI. 
 
 " Ah, think not, stranger, you alone in this wide world 
 
 have cares ; 
 There 's none were ever dear to me but now this 
 
 churchyard bears, — 
 
20 AN EARLY SCENE REVISITED. 
 
 Wife, children, friends ! Yet deem not I so little reck 
 
 of pain 
 That I would call the dead to life, and lose them o'er 
 
 again ! 
 'T is true, my life is dull ; I bury men from year to year, 
 But am too old to whine, and now even change itself 
 
 grows dear. 
 I wish 't were swifter still, and oft the wish comes to 
 
 my mind, 
 When life seems weary, that I might but leave these 
 
 cramps behind; 
 And then I grow less hopeless of a world that 's 
 
 without pain, 
 Where this poor, cracked, and shattered frame may be 
 
 patched up again, — 
 
 XXII. 
 
 " The broken be made whole with all of which it once 
 
 was part. 
 There are more cares for me, 't is true, but I keep up 
 
 good heart. 
 Grave-digging keeps me warm, at least, and, the favor 
 
 to repay, 
 I hope some one with digging mine may sweat no 
 
 distant day." 
 '* God grant thee many, many happy days, old man ! " 
 
 *' Nay, nay, 
 My work is done; go home with me, or till to-morrow 
 
 stay. 
 
AN EARLY SCENE REVISITED. 2 1 
 
 You wish to look about, and \ were to me a dear 
 delight 
 
 With one who knew this place of old, to chat through- 
 out the night." 
 
 " I '11 go ! " " Thanks ! thanks ! and share my humble 
 meal without disdain ; 
 
 We'll drink the memory of old times, not wish them 
 back again ! " 
 
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