Class _IP^,__aii.3-_ 
 Book. — ^Mi2uS_ 
 Copyriglit]^«_ ^ Ij03 
 
 COPVRIGHT DEPOSfT. 
 
CICADAS IN HOME. SWEET 
 HOME. 
 
HlCADAS 
 
 IN Home 
 
 HWEETmOME 
 
THE LIBRARY OF 
 CONGRESS, 
 
 Two Copies Received 
 
 MAR 23 1903 
 
 Copyiigi-it Entry 
 
 CLASS CL XXc, No. 
 
 COPY B. 
 
 P6 3SX3 
 
 COPYKI6HT, 1903, 
 
 BT 
 
 ALFRED LAMBOITRNE. 
 
Co M!iniini!(g 
 
i 
 
 § 
 
 CICADAS IN HOME, SWEET 
 HOME. 
 
 I. 
 FLOAT in melody, I drift 
 
 with song; 
 Music's sweet notes enrich 
 
 the night around, 
 And summer's hosts their 
 tireless cry prolong; 
 A piercing, crisp, intense, sharp, blade- 
 like sound, 
 Yet clear it melts, as for some magic balm 
 With deathless harmonies of Home, 
 
 Sweet Home. 
 Ah ! true those symbols are — for Home 
 
 the palm, 
 The cactus and the sands for those who 
 
 roam! 
 And as I list unto the insects shrill, 
 Ecstatic dwellers mid the vines and trees, 
 All thoughts of deep content my bosom 
 
 fill; 
 Dear love, I weep while soft you touch 
 
 the keys: 
 Unto this moment fleeting, I could say 
 With Faust, "Thou art so fair — ah, still 
 delay!" 
 
II. 
 
 |H, still delay, thou present 
 moment fair! 
 From welcome bondage, spare 
 
 that I go free; 
 A richest vesture thou for me 
 dost wear; 
 Like island affluent in life's charmed sea. 
 Now the cicada's high and ceaseless din, 
 I hear with words and tune immortal 
 
 blend; 
 The soft transcriptions draw it all within; 
 A round doth make, a current without end. 
 O, not mine own, another's fond content. 
 Has caused to fall a slow, unbidden tear. 
 Willing I cling unto imprisonment, 
 That I go thence, indeed my only fear: 
 All harmony within this moment lies — 
 In Home, Sweet Home, "The Earthly 
 Paradise." 
 
III. 
 
 AIL, Earthly Paradise ! where 
 true love takes 
 Terrestrial reflex of the hea- 
 venly mood; 
 That cherished spot where 
 symphony awakes, 
 And stills the discord of earth's clamor 
 
 rude! 
 Hark ! once again from out the unseen 
 
 room 
 Those words undying come, and ripple 
 
 slow; 
 As here I sit amid nocturnal gloom, 
 Upon mine ear the tender measures 
 
 grow. 
 And sounds like steel from out the dark- 
 ness flash — 
 The wakeful creatures, happy of the night; 
 Like tiny scimetars the keen notes clash; 
 Assail the gloom as though it were with 
 
 light; 
 All rhythmic sound the echoes in my 
 
 breast, 
 In Home, Sweet Home, love's Island of 
 the Blest. 
 
IV. 
 
 HE Island Blest, the Lotus 
 Land of Peace, 
 The golden refuge, lie in 
 
 Home, Sweet Home, 
 That song which holds the 
 human heart in lease; 
 Its power I learn beneath night's star-lit 
 
 dome. 
 What dearer moment can the future give, 
 Than this, wherein a thousand transports 
 
 crowd ? 
 The loves of dead ancestors once more 
 
 live. 
 Within my heart they call to me aloud. 
 Is this the issue of some happy plot. 
 That through the song darts swift the 
 
 insect's cry? 
 No more I seek, nor need for mine allot. 
 While voice beloved and omen sweetly vie: 
 Apart this moment is from pain's abyss, 
 As Fields of Lethe from the Walls of Dis ! 
 
V. 
 
 HE Fields Lethean are this 
 
 moment mine, 
 As though my soul emerged 
 
 from out that wave 
 By that bright shore, where 
 starry clusters shine, 
 Those flowers whose roots in mystic 
 
 waters lave. 
 A sweet forgetfulness from self I find, 
 Lost 'mid the cadences of verse and song; 
 The overflow from one glad heart, com. 
 
 bined 
 With gleeful clamor of night's winged 
 
 throng. 
 Here let me rest, nor leave this hallowed 
 
 goal; 
 0, rather bid me all the world forsake ! 
 These harmonies hath made my being 
 
 whole, 
 A cure hath wrought upon my every ache: 
 In Lethe's stream there lies a mystic 
 
 power — 
 In Home, Sweet Home, the brightest 
 earthly flower. 
 
VI. 
 
 |N Home, Sweet Home, the 
 flower of Lethe lies, 
 The bright adornment of 
 
 love's shining fields; 
 In Home, Sweet Home, the 
 world's loud tumult dies, 
 A rich nepenthe there the spirit shields. 
 Safe the cicadas, wrapt in summer ease, 
 Amid their verdant coverts tireless sing; 
 In Home, Sweet Home, my soul finds all 
 
 appease, 
 As thrilling words meet to responsive 
 
 string. 
 Quick, through the tender, soft melodic 
 
 chord. 
 Each tiny rival fierce staccato thrusts; 
 The frenzied mirth of night's vehement 
 
 horde, 
 To lull all pain, the long held note ad- 
 justs: 
 Dear to my heart the wild, shrill serenade, 
 And Home, Sweet Home, the flower no 
 sun can fade. 
 
VII. 
 
 HE serenade which I this mo- 
 ment hear- 
 Loud edged notes the glad 
 
 night- watcher makes, 
 And that loved song which 
 ties of home endear, 
 From out unfathomed heart of nature 
 
 breaks. 
 A noise obstreperous the insects raise. 
 Bright contrast to euphonic, flowing tones; 
 That chorus wild, amid the leafy maze. 
 Is answered now from sweetest of all 
 
 thrones. 
 O, oft the rambler neath some alien pine, 
 Has felt his heart at that wild chorus burn! 
 O, oft the rover on the stormy brine 
 At those sweet words, has longed for 
 
 swift return ! 
 O, unappeased desires have now rebound, 
 I live and breath upon enchanted ground! 
 
VIII. 
 
 ALL enchantment lies in 
 
 Home, Sweet Home ! 
 What power can break the 
 
 love-accepted chains ? 
 Its call is heard o'er ocean's 
 leagues of foam, — 
 No bar the pathless woods, nor desert 
 
 plains. 
 These sounds of revel, swift, acute and 
 
 loud, 
 I've heard where other vines their leaves 
 
 unfurl, 
 These melting lines have listed with the 
 
 crowd 
 Upon the streets amid the cities' whirl. 
 O, then, what tumult in my heart was 
 
 housed, 
 A strange unrest to these sharp notes akin; 
 What yearnings infinite the song aroused, 
 As sorrow dwelt my troubled heart within: 
 Afar from home the cypress boughs en- 
 twine. 
 In Home, Sweet Home, the myrtle wreath 
 is mine. 
 
IX. 
 
 |S cypress boughs, O sad the 
 thoughts that sway, 
 From Home, Sweet Home 
 
 the absent one with fear; 
 In solitude the longing heart 
 must weigh 
 The sum of that, which now I listen here. 
 Now nature speaks and blends itself with 
 
 art, 
 And no false note where thought to voice 
 
 is true. 
 Unconscious all, each singer takes a part. 
 And ere they die the symphonies renew. 
 Shrill dwellers of the vine, thy notes dis- 
 perse, 
 And thou, loved voice, for absence make 
 
 atone; 
 O would that I this moment might coerce 
 Through golden law and make it all mine 
 
 own: 
 O, sorrow now like to an old moon wanes, 
 In Home, Sweet Home, where sweet con- 
 tentment reigns. 
 
X. 
 
 |H, sweet content but dwells in 
 Home, Sweet Home, 
 Nor in the world, nor in the 
 
 prospect wide; 
 Within the cottage of the 
 weary mome, 
 It reigns as oft as in the halls of pride. 
 Sing, ye cicadas, housed amid the green. 
 Make a shrill music as to some deep spell, 
 What other than mine own can thy joy 
 
 mean? 
 And yet, I know mine own doth thine 
 
 excel. 
 Thou, too, beloved, O sing sweet notes 
 
 and high. 
 Here shall I learn where true love must 
 
 abide, 
 Blend song and word with those wild 
 
 singers nigh; 
 Here lives my hope, whatever may betide: 
 Sing, happy singers — sweetest of all 
 
 themes 
 Is Home, Sweet Home, the golden Land 
 of Dreams ! 
 

 1 
 
 XI. 
 
 N Land of Dreams, O golden 
 
 harbor bright, 
 Not here the promise of the 
 
 heart shall fail: 
 This anchorage for struggle 
 makes requite. 
 Rest now my bark, and furl the useless 
 
 sail. 
 When saddened days the skies of life trans- 
 form, 
 Then, Home, Sweet Home, no haven like 
 
 to thee; 
 When gathered clouds presage the coming 
 
 storm, 
 Here is my calm, and here my rest shall 
 
 be. 
 Trill, happy creatures, anchored in the 
 
 vine. 
 Sharp on the night the vocal gladness falls, 
 As voice and string I hear in melting line. 
 Love unto love, as deep to deep, it calls: 
 Ah, insects' cry, and chord, and note, and 
 
 voice. 
 Sweet rivalship to make my heart rejoice. 
 
XII. 
 
 EJOICE, my heart, in this 
 sweet rivalship, 
 Thy measures make amid the 
 
 ^lad acclaim. 
 Caressed each word that 
 dwells upon the lip, 
 And sweetly wild, night's watchers shrill 
 
 proclaim. 
 Hark, how vociferous the notes they shake-- 
 The keen cicadas, happy in the strife ! 
 And list, ah list, — as clear for gladness 
 
 sake — 
 Sweet word and melody awake to life ! 
 O, shall I sink though heavy weight op- 
 press — 
 While sounds of concord, strength and 
 
 hope shall give ? 
 O, all forgotten now each wan distress. 
 While these bright words and tuneful 
 
 echoes live: 
 This moment fleeting, blissful peace re- 
 news. 
 In Home, Sweet Home, where love comes 
 like the dews. 
 
XIII. 
 
 HE dews of gentle peace, and 
 
 song, and verse, 
 For me in this bright present 
 
 focussed are; 
 This moment fair and passing 
 they immerse. 
 As yonder heavens doth my natal star. 
 O, what these melodies that upward steal, 
 And by keen, shrilly notes are pierced 
 
 through ? 
 Their potent charm and sweet control I 
 
 feel. 
 As fateful power from out the skies they 
 
 drew. 
 Of Pleiades, O, naught the sway can bind. 
 And so this moment bears my star's im- 
 press; 
 These sounds of joy my inmost bosom 
 
 find, 
 My soul doth touch as with a soft caress: 
 Until that time I sleep beneath the loam, 
 I'll love cicada's song, and Home, Sweet 
 Home. 
 
XIV. 
 
 iNTIL within the narrow house 
 I sleep, 
 Time shall not steal this mo- 
 ment prodigal; 
 While life is mine, securely 
 will I keep 
 Its song, and riot, and heart-festival; 
 Yes, from the thief, remembrance shall 
 
 hold back 
 Those strains of Home, Sweet Home that 
 
 softly glide; 
 Those ardent notes and keen, that never 
 
 slack 
 And, with proclaimings, song and night 
 
 divide. 
 O, sing loved voice, and fingers deftly 
 
 stray, 
 Press light the keys, the eager heart as- 
 suage ! 
 And thou, wild rioters on branch and spray; 
 With verse and melody thy contest wage: 
 Sweet moment live, till life for me is past, 
 And time to silence gives my heart at last. 
 
Mi\9. 23 1903 
 
LIbHAHY Uh UUNliHtbb 
 
 020 994 538 1