VA^t.t',,-' 
 
 
 ffV 
 
 
 ^?'i 
 
Rnnk - {9^cT^ 
 
 (bpyiigtitl^". 
 
 ff^ 
 
 CDIVRiGHT DEPOSIT. 
 
BERNHART PAUL HOLST 
 
POEMS OF 
 
 FRIENDSHIP 
 
 LIFE, HOME, LOVE, RELIGION, 
 HUMOR AND OTHER POEMS 
 
 BY 
 
 BERNHART PAUL HOLST 
 
 Teacher and Superintendent of Schools, Iowa; Institute Lecturer 
 and Instructor; Author of Educational Literature; Editor of 
 * 'Current Reference," "The Teachers' and Pupils' 
 Cyclopaedia," "The Practical American En- 
 cyclopedia," and "Practical Home and 
 School Methods of Study and 
 Instruction" 
 
 v^ 
 
 BOONE, IOWA, AND CHICAGO, ILL. 
 
 THE HOLST PUBLISHING COMPANY 
 

 Copyright, 1913 
 THE HOLST PUBLISHING COMPANY 
 
 (OCLA332183 
 
PREFACE 
 
 THE contents of this book do not belong to any 
 particular year or decade, but are selected 
 from all my productions, beginning with about 
 the age of eighteen years. Many of them were pub- 
 lished in periodicals at the time they were written, 
 and some were changed in form by publication in 
 part. This is mentioned so it may be known that 
 this volume contains the authentic form. 
 
 No one would presume to say that we are to 
 assign definite hours in which to compose poetry or 
 construct oratory, since these lines of human effort 
 cannot be governed by definite rules. On the other 
 hand, poetry is dependent upon inspiration. Having 
 the faculty to produce, advantage must be taken of 
 inspirations as they impress the mind. 
 
 The larger part of my writings in rhyme was 
 produced while on trips of travel or when at home 
 in my library. In the former I was impressed by the 
 grandeur of nature as seen personally, and in the 
 latter by the quiet and rest which I find in the work- 
 room of my home. 
 
 To the class of productions which I wrote while 
 on trips belong The Falls of the Niagara, We Ought 
 to Store a Treasure and Nightfall. 
 
 To the class written at home under the inspiration 
 of art and life, instead more specially of nature, 
 belong the larger number of poems in this book. Of 
 these The Power of Love, The Linden Tree and The 
 Wandering Jew may be mentioned. 
 
 3 
 
4 PREFACE 
 
 It has been my purpose to write along lines which, 
 as treated in the different productions, will invigorate 
 and elevate the soul. Any production which falls 
 short of elevating and enlarging the mind falls short 
 of true poetry. The poems mentioned above, though 
 they do not stand alone in a class, illustrate the prin- 
 ciple that poetry should aim to be elevating in its 
 nature. 
 
 My professional and business associations have 
 been more than ordinarily active, although the net 
 result has been moderate^ — probably about the average 
 of a human life which has environments similar to 
 my own. The contents of this book were written 
 at times of rest, or as change in occupation permitted, 
 being influenced, of course, by the inspirations which 
 then impressed me. With these few remarks I present 
 this volume to the consideration of the public, trust- 
 ing at least some of the sentiments expressed in it 
 will find responsive hearts. 
 
 Bern HART Paul Holst. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 Poems of Friendship 7 
 
 Poems of Life 19 
 
 Poems of Home 37 
 
 Poems of Love 45 
 
 Poems of Religion 59 
 
 Poems of Power 75 
 
 Poems of Humor 97 
 
 Index by Titles 113 
 
POEMS OF FRIENDSHIP 
 
 VALUE OF FRIENDS 
 
 Give me kind friends, true friends in need, 
 Who don no idle, winning wiles, 
 
 And who will be true friends, indeed. 
 If storms abound or fortune smiles. 
 
 I care not for lavish praises 
 
 That oft come from the vacant mind. 
 Nor the empty, studied phrases 
 
 Which leave the heart and soul behind. 
 
 True friends will more than press my hand, 
 And more than cheer in time of bliss, 
 
 And more than empty words extend 
 When multitudes grow cold and hiss. 
 
 Trustworthy friends will help and cheer, 
 Will make the timid spirit brave. 
 
 Will light the path, though dark and drear, 
 Which leads from sorrows to the grave. 
 
 Give me true friends and let me be 
 
 Throughout this life, from day to day, 
 
 As true to them, as they to me — 
 
 What pangs of anguish 'twould allay ! 
 7 
 
POEMS OF FRIENDSHIP 
 
 Our joys increase as friends increase — 
 They cause us more to love mankind, 
 
 And joy and gladness ne'er will cease, 
 If we ourselves in friendship bind. 
 
 THE HOUR GREW LATE 
 
 When last I called, the hour grew late, 
 And yet I tarried with you, dear, 
 
 'Tis but the beckoning of fate 
 
 That speeds the time when love is near ! 
 
 Who, when he takes an evening ride, 
 In auto, chaise or carriage grand, 
 
 Will tire of pleasant countryside, 
 
 If breeze and flowers sweet fragrance lend? 
 
 And who, I pray, will measure time 
 
 When joy and gladness speed the hours? 
 
 Or who will back his steps incline. 
 
 If pathways bright are decked with flowers ? 
 
 Sweet pleasures while the time away. 
 The hours speed on with rapid stride, 
 
 A lifetime passes as a day 
 
 Where two true hearts in love abide. 
 
 Then pardon me for staying late 
 
 And tarrying long with you, my dear, 
 
 'Tis but the beckoning of fate 
 
 That speeds the time when love is near! 
 
POEMS OF FRIENDSHIP 
 
 FRIENDS 
 
 Should some one speak unkindly of your friend, 
 With earnest mien, you must his worth defend ; 
 Though all the world should at your true friend chide, 
 Hold to his hand and stand close by his side — 
 For this we know : a true and trusty heart 
 Of happy life is an essential part. 
 
 Heaven will in its gentle kindness give 
 True friends to those who truly act and live, 
 But those that fail trustworthy friends to prize 
 At length are severed from these holy ties — 
 And finally, o'erwhelmed by doubt and fear. 
 Are borne by strangers on their rustic bier. 
 
 Should storms betide and all your fortune rend. 
 You still are rich if you possess a friend. 
 But if you win vast fortune and renown. 
 Or even wear a sceptered, kingly crown, 
 And have no friends, no trusty friends in need, 
 You still are poor, ah! very poor, indeed! 
 
10 POEMS OF FRIENDSHIP 
 
 WHEN I AM DEAD 
 
 When I am dead, then come not thou 
 To shed vain tears where rests my brow, 
 Nor speak in praise, nor praises give 
 That illy fit me while I live ; 
 When at my grave, just speak of me 
 As in this life I was to thee — 
 Think not I hide beneath the sod 
 One secret act or thought from God. 
 
 Let the sweet friendship of our youth 
 
 Be firmly bound by earnest truth, 
 
 And when thou'rt old — perhaps ere then — 
 
 I shall depart from haunts of men; 
 
 When I am dead and in the grave, 
 
 Think not this worthless dust to save — 
 
 Let it return to mother earth 
 
 That nourished me through life, from birth. 
 
 When I am dead, let soft winds blow, 
 Let brightest beams at morning glow. 
 Let noontide sun shine from on high, 
 At twilight let the plover cry ; 
 Let moon and stars in stilly night , 
 Give cheer to thee in beams of light — 
 Let all of nature cheer in strife 
 And think of death as part of life. 
 
POEMS OF FRIENDSHIP n 
 
 ABIDING FRIENDSHIP 
 
 We meet on the basis of friendship 
 And pledge our good wishes again, 
 
 The ties of affection unite us, 
 Oh, could it thus ever remain! 
 
 It cannot thus alway continue — 
 As the cycles of years pass away 
 
 Our flowers will bloom and soon wither, 
 So let us enjoy them today. 
 
 So many glad people before us 
 
 Have lived and have passed from this scene, 
 We hold them in sweetest remembrance 
 
 And trust that their rest is serene. 
 
 So many glad people will follow 
 
 When this life we've pleasantly spent; 
 
 We hail and bespeak them the blessings 
 Which nature in kindness us lent. 
 
 Since joy cannot ever continue 
 
 And tried friends are better than new, 
 
 No matter how far we may scatter 
 
 We'll cherish old friends, good and true. 
 
 Should distance greatly divide us, 
 Our hearts will be true as today. 
 
 And all will be joyed at the fortune, 
 When good comes to one far away. 
 
12 POEMS OF FRIENDSHIP 
 
 And should we again come together 
 Before all of Hfe we will spend, 
 
 We'll link with the happy beginning 
 A joyous and beautiful end. 
 
 VERSES TO A ROSE 
 
 Dear Rose, thou loveliest of bloom, 
 If we should meet again some day 
 
 Beyond the tomb, beyond the tomb, 
 
 What would you do, what would you say, 
 
 Thou loveliest of bloom? 
 
 Would you, Dear Rose, your perfume spill 
 Bloom by bloom, bloom by bloom. 
 
 As today upon my window sill 
 
 At my room, at my rustic room. 
 
 You the air with fragrance fill? 
 
 In the distant afterwhile. 
 
 If I should be a rose like you. 
 
 Should we meet and kiss and smile 
 Never more to bid adieu, adieu, 
 
 In the distant afterwhile? 
 
 Oh! the joys that you and I 
 
 In this blissful world have known. 
 
 Must multiply, must multiply, 
 
 As the heartfelt sweets were sown 
 
 For the joyous bye and bye. 
 
POEMS OF FRIENDSHIP 13 
 
 WE OUGHT TO STORE A TREASURE 
 
 The autumn wind reminds us that the year 
 Is aging fast, and as the oak leaves fall 
 
 The agile squirrels skip lightly far and near, 
 Their stores for dreary winter to install ; 
 
 And this reminds me as the years go by, 
 
 We ought to store a treasure, — you and I. 
 
 Near yonder fountain, where the streamers rise, 
 "A pool has formed of waters wide and deep. 
 
 Where young and old admire with beaming eyes 
 
 The floating swans that o'er the wavelets leap; 
 
 As drops cause pools to spread out wide and high, 
 
 So ought we store a treasure, — you and I. 
 
 There at the lane where lovers tarry long, 
 
 Beneath the shade of flower and tree and vine. 
 
 Where vows make life as merry as a song, 
 And hope is born to live in joy divine — 
 
 As laughter takes the place of weary sigh. 
 
 So ought we store a treasure, — you and I. 
 
 Near yonder bridge where ripe old age is seen. 
 The swain and aged wife go hand in hand. 
 
 See how upon each other's arms they lean. 
 
 And know that love makes a contented land; 
 
 Since life is short and fast the hours fly, 
 
 So ought we store a treasure, — you and I. 
 
14 POEMS OF FRIENDSHIP 
 
 SHE IS SLEEPING SO SWEETLY 
 
 She is sleeping so sweetly at rest, 
 
 Near the foot of the evergreen tree, 
 The sun, sinking down in the west, 
 
 Casts a long, dark shadow o'er me ; 
 She is sleeping so sweetly at rest, 
 
 How peaceful the earth and the sky! 
 She has flown like a bird from its nest. 
 
 To the realm of the spirits on high. 
 
 She lived a life holy and good, 
 
 "Let me flee to thy arms, Father — God," 
 She said, as death cast its hood, 
 
 And we laid her at peace 'neath the sod. 
 Now she sleeps so sweetly at rest, 
 
 But her works live, active and true ; 
 In life she had chosen the best 
 
 And in death this faith did renew. 
 
Life is not always what it seems, 
 But sleep requites with happy dreams. 
 
POEMS OF FRIENDSHIP 15 
 
 GOOD NIGHT 
 
 Good night! 
 Fade the parting rays of light ; 
 Now the daily labors end, 
 Rest comes to the busy hand, 
 Until the morning wakens bright, 
 Good night! 
 
 Go to rest ! 
 Close your eyes with feelings best. 
 For the birds have hushed the song 
 They were chirping all day long, 
 And the night makes this request: 
 Go to rest ! 
 
 Close your eyes! 
 Dream of a happy Paradise, 
 
 Life is not always what it seems, 
 But sleep requites with happy dreams 
 Recompense for him who tries. 
 Close your eyes ! 
 
 Good night! 
 Slumber on 'till morning light. 
 Sleep until the new tomorrow 
 Comes with its own toil and sorrow ; 
 Until the morning wakens bright, 
 Good night! 
 
l6 POEMS OF FRIENDSHIP 
 
 PASSION IN FRIENDSHIP 
 
 I like to think of friendship as the wine of Hfe, 
 
 The sparkling fluid which ever stimulates the soul ; 
 I like to feel the downy pillow of the heart, 
 
 And breathe the spirit that will deepest grief 
 console. 
 To me it seems the dearest, sweetest fruit of earth. 
 
 Though not complete unless heaven its blessings 
 sends ; 
 The fruitage which replaces grief with quickened joy, 
 
 Is found reposing in the bosom of our friends. 
 
 I know the stealthy counterfeit in passion's flame 
 
 May melt the heart and later bring remorse and 
 grief, 
 And steal away the virtue which entenders us for aye. 
 
 And cause a falling of the spirit like the autumn 
 leaf. 
 Hence, true love alone in reason must take root. 
 
 And bind with rootlets strong the tender chord 
 Which anchors friendship firmly at the noontide point. 
 
 And in eternity secures its just reward. 
 
 I speak of passion, for in passion there are twain 
 When heart meets heart, enthused, as by the living 
 lyre. 
 
 And here is virtue tested by an inborn flame, 
 
 Proved in the heat of an intense and rival fire; 
 
POEMS OF FRIENDSHIP 17 
 
 Though dear, this proven friendship yet is delicate 
 And from sheer doubt and cold reserve may early 
 die, 
 
 But, kept alive by friendly deeds and v^armth of soul. 
 No earthly hand can break the all-enduring tie. 
 
 New friendships, like new wine, are neither strong 
 nor pure, 
 And ties thus formed may not in trouble stay. 
 But, ripened' by long years and tested by affliction, 
 Our friendships will endure through darkest of 
 dismay — 
 Then, let my life with many friends be blessed, 
 
 And let my spirit rise with the virtue which they 
 give. 
 And let the cordial warmth, the strong defense of love, 
 Endure in me and mine as long as I shall live. 
 
 WHEN SHALL I MEET YOU AGAIN 
 
 When shall I meet you again 
 And be as happy as I've been? — 
 Let not this be the last time 
 That you place your hand in mine; 
 Let both joy and pleasure reign 
 Until I meet you again. 
 
 Though our paths be far away 
 As we toil from day to day; 
 Though the breakers of the sea 
 2 
 
1 8 POEMS OF FRIENDSHIP 
 
 Cast your lot apart from me — 
 Oft in dreams I'll think of you 
 And my kind regards renew. 
 
 Though I sail on stormy seas, 
 
 Or float on ocean^s waves with ease ; 
 
 Though I climb the mountains high, 
 
 Or aviate the azure sky, — 
 
 I would my thought to you incline 
 
 And gently press your hand in mine. 
 
 Though our locks turn silvery-gray 
 And youth and strength fast speed away; 
 Though our tottering steps are slow 
 As on the shoals of time we go, — 
 Still let the joy of friendship reign 
 Whene'er I shall meet you again. 
 
 When this earthly life is spent 
 And the vase in twain is rent ; 
 When the grave receives this clay 
 And all that was has passed away, — 
 In the realm where spirits reign, 
 There would I meet you again. 
 
POEMS OF LIFE 
 
 LIFE 
 
 My life is a beautiful song, 
 The days pass swiftly away, 
 
 The years speed so quickly along — 
 It seems like the dream of a day. 
 
 My youth was a charming delight, 
 A springtime of which poets sing ; 
 
 It dawned on me, happy and bright, 
 But flew like a bird on the wing. 
 
 The years of maturity came. 
 
 Fraught with the chances of life; 
 
 The labors that were not in vain 
 Gave stimuli, fruitful and rife. 
 
 As student, as teacher, as man. 
 
 The seasons so quickly have flown; 
 
 The cycles of time swiftly ran 
 
 And taken dear friends I have known. 
 
 And soon will I turn to the west, 
 
 West, where the sun sinks from view. 
 
 To welcome the long, peaceful rest, 
 After bidding all earth-friends adieu. 
 19 
 
20 POEMS OF LIFE 
 
 My life is a beautiful song, 
 The days pass swiftly away, 
 
 The years speed so quickly along — 
 It seems like the dream of a day. 
 
 TO NATURE 
 
 Nature, sweet and dear to me, 
 Let me nurse myself on thee ; 
 Guide and lead me with thy hand 
 As a child in wonderland ! 
 
 For the balm of thy sweet breath 
 Calls to life in zones of death, 
 And the vigor of thy soul 
 Makes and keeps the living whole. 
 
 I would wander far with thee. 
 O'er the hills and through the lea; 
 When I tire and need a rest, 
 I'll find it on thy ample breast. 
 
 Day by day 'tis well with me. 
 If I breathe and live in thee ; 
 Let my life with thee combine, 
 Nature, thou protector mine. 
 
POEMS OF LIFE 21 
 
 A LOVELY DREAM 
 
 I dreamed a lovely dream at night, 
 
 When day long had departed, 
 But woke up in the morning light 
 
 Quite sad and broken-hearted. 
 
 My dream brought me a vision fair 
 Of firm friends, true and trusty, 
 
 But waking gave me chill despair 
 
 And showed these friends had left me. 
 
 The dream told me that all the world 
 
 My life with love is guiding, 
 But, waking up, the truth unfurled— 
 
 The world was keenly chiding. 
 
 My vision showed the world is true 
 
 Because it really loves me. 
 But, when awake, I learned anew 
 
 It loves success above me. 
 
 And yet this was a lovely dream. 
 
 As you may have detected ; 
 Though things are not quite what they seem, 
 
 In dreams life is reflected. 
 
 Our dreams are good, if we are good. 
 For lovely dreams we treasure. 
 
 And when this truth is understood, 
 Our dreams will give us pleasure. 
 
22 POEMS OF LIFE 
 
 PRESS ON 
 
 My Child, press on! you cannot fail 
 
 To climb the crest of mountain high. 
 With faith the break of morning hail — 
 
 Unfurl your banner to the sky ; 
 Who starts aright with zeal and zest. 
 
 With mind and heart in full control, 
 And always tries to do the best. 
 
 Will never fail to reach the goal. 
 
 My Youthj press on! surmount the steeps, 
 
 Though they be rocky all the way; 
 He fails who feebly crawls and creeps, 
 
 Who stands up bravely wins the day. 
 A star of hope gives aid and cheer 
 
 To those who look and press ahead, 
 And makes success seem very near 
 
 As on to fortune we are led. 
 
 My Friend, press on! with kind regard 
 
 For all the friends that wish you well. 
 And let the fruits of your reward 
 
 O'er all your life cast their sweet spell; 
 Sweet are the friends who give us cheer, 
 
 Who grasp our hand and speak kind words, 
 Their aid and comfort are more dear 
 
 Than music grand or songs of birds. 
 
 My Love, press on! and love thou me 
 With an affection staid and pure, 
 
 For I your truest love will be 
 
 As long as my life shall endure; 
 
POEMS OF LIFE 23 
 
 Since love is life and life is love 
 
 And bliss comes only to the true, 
 Let us declare, by heaven above, 
 
 You live for me, I live for you. 
 
 Old Age, press on! let courage now, 
 
 With steadfast stride and strengthened soul, 
 Give tone to life though head may bow, 
 
 And keep the faith that wins the goal ; 
 Be true to self, be true to man, 
 
 Be true to God in joy and tears, 
 And if you do the best you can, 
 
 You'll win the goal in spite of fears. 
 
 HOPE 
 
 When yet I trod the way with happy song. 
 
 And life was sweet, so calm and sweet to me, 
 That joyous strains o'er hills and valleys rung, 
 
 Twas then you beckoned with your mystic veil, 
 
 Sweet Hope, fond goddess whom I worship still. 
 And signaled often lest my heart should fail. 
 
 And eagerly you put me to the test. 
 
 In all I wished, you led me on apace, 
 A thousand wishes sprang within my breast. 
 
 You smiled on me in shadow and in shine, 
 
 I threw a kiss at you and cried aloud, 
 " Tis well with me, you faithful goddess mine." 
 
24 POEMS OF LIFE 
 
 But sleep unmanned me in an evil day, 
 
 You disappeared, I know not how or where, 
 Alone in grief I plod my weary way. 
 
 You disappeared when toil overcame my strength, 
 Deceiver, you, show me your smile once more, 
 And let me try to win you back again. 
 
 I turn and look afar, and scarce believe. 
 
 Where once with joyous feet I trod the way, 
 In dreams you now bewilder and deceive. 
 
 What youthful heart are you beguiling now? 
 
 Your rosy lips are laughing for what swain? 
 While I am old and shrunk in breast and brow. 
 
 I see once more you hap'ly wink at me. 
 
 As I am near the brink of life's fair strand, 
 And sit and dream of vast eternity. 
 
 But now a mystic sleep has me unmanned. 
 
 SOMETHING 
 
 The heart must something wish and yearn. 
 For something hope in future day. 
 
 For something crave, for something burn. 
 To make life one glad roundelay. 
 
 All our bliss and all our pleasure 
 Must attach to something real; 
 
 Whether busy or at leisure, 
 
 We must e'er this something feel. 
 
POEMS OF LIFE 
 
 If I could not long for something, 
 For some better deed or thought; 
 
 Some word to speak, some song to sing, 
 Life would not seem what it ought. 
 
 And my longings are unbounded, 
 Unbounded as the boundless sea, 
 
 And with bliss I am surrounded, 
 As this something quickens me. 
 
 Thus, I long for something ever, 
 Something far, or something near, 
 
 And I'm disappointed never, 
 
 For this yearning gives me cheer. 
 
 25 
 
 THOSE CHIMING BELLS 
 
 Those chiming bells, those chiming bells, 
 Long years ago rang sweet farewells, 
 
 When I left home 
 
 To rove and roam. 
 Not thinking that e'er back I'd come. 
 
 And as I wandered far away, 
 These bells rang sweetly day by day; 
 
 It seemed so dear 
 
 That I could hear. 
 At mem'ry's call, these sounds of cheer. 
 
 When I returned, oh blessed day! 
 
 Though bowed in form, with locks of gray, 
 
 These happy bells 
 
 Beat cheerful knells, 
 Far sweeter than their sweet farewells! 
 
26 POEMS OF LIFE 
 
 The village church, where old and young 
 Long years the same old songs have sung, 
 
 With steeple tall, 
 
 Seems dear to all 
 When these sweet bells peal forth their call. 
 
 Beneath the sod, in yonder field, 
 
 Dwell those for whom these bells have pealed ; 
 
 They joyed to hear 
 
 Their sounds of cheer 
 Till borne away with shroud and bier. 
 
 Those chiming bells, those chiming bells, 
 For me shall ring the last farewells; 
 
 When I am gone 
 
 They'll still ring on 
 With tuneful peal o'er woods and lawn. 
 
 LIFE'S MEANING 
 
 Life is a firmly folded flower 
 
 That holds God's secrets, one and all. 
 We delve into its mystic bower 
 
 In vernal spring, in chilly fall — 
 And in unfolding leaf by leaf. 
 The bloom of life falls sweet and brief. 
 
 Our earth-dulled senses scarce may know 
 The radiant beauty of its bloom, 
 
 For swift its beauties from us blow 
 
 As time speeds on from morn till noon- 
 
 And noon gives way to mystic night 
 
 Ere we have learned life's meaning quite. 
 
POEMS OF LIFE 27 
 
 THE LAST FAREWELL 
 
 When we became divided, 
 
 Her heart so true and kind, 
 I felt with grief betided 
 
 In body and in mind. 
 With these sad words she did implore: 
 "Farewell, farewell forevermore !" 
 When we became divided, 
 
 Her heart so true and kind. 
 
 When at the early springing 
 
 Of affection's tender chord, 
 I met my soul-mate singing, 
 
 Our hearts beat in accord. 
 The music sweet seemed to implore; 
 "Remain with me forevermore 1" 
 When at the early springing 
 
 Of affection's tender chord. 
 
 And when I learned so sadly 
 
 That love may broken be, 
 I felt that death might gladly 
 
 Have come and taken me. 
 These words still echoed as of yore: 
 "Farewell, farewell forevermore!" 
 When first I learned so sadly 
 
 That love may broken be. 
 
 My springtime's gone completely, 
 
 I know the reason why; 
 The lips that kissed me sweetly 
 
 Now cold and silent lie. 
 
28 POEMS OF LIFE 
 
 For she has gone to yonder shore: 
 "Farewell, farewell forevermore !" 
 My springtime's gone completely, 
 I know the reason why. 
 
 SOMETIME 
 
 Sometime, sometime, oh blessed hope! 
 
 Sometime I yearn for heart retrieving; 
 Sometime will break the heavy yoke; 
 
 Sometime will vanquish fear and grieving ; 
 Sometime, foreseen by sages old, 
 Will grossest dregs be turned to gold. 
 
 Sometime the ebbing tide will turn; 
 
 Sometime the storm will cease to blow ; 
 Sometime the hearthstone brighter burn, 
 
 And hapless wanderer homeward go; 
 Sometime sunlight through tears will break 
 And joyous song the slumberer wake. 
 
 Sometime, oh thou beauteous word! 
 
 Thou canst every grief allay — 
 The sea may move the labored mole, 
 
 But cannot sweep the rocks away. 
 Then, truest heart, do not forget : 
 Sometime, sometime will reach you yet. 
 
I set my canvas to the gale 
 And steered my vessel far from shore. 
 
POEMS OF LIFE 
 
 29 
 
 LIFE'S LESSON 
 
 While yet a child, on ocean's shore, 
 
 I gazed across the restless sea; 
 I heard the music of its roar 
 
 And wondered what it meant to me. 
 
 In those sweet years I longed to sail 
 'Mid treasures rare of ages' lore; 
 
 I set my canvas to the gale 
 
 And steered my vessel far from shore. 
 
 With joy I sailed the summer sea 
 
 While skies were bright and winds were fair, 
 But storms soon disappointed me 
 
 And drove my vessel here and there. 
 
 And when arose the tempest wild, 
 It tossed my ship on billows wide. 
 
 It swept me back where as a child 
 For joy and pleasure I had sighed. 
 
 Ah ! well, if we could only know 
 In early years, so sweet and kind, 
 
 What joy and pleasure from us flow ^ 
 
 As we leave childhood years behind. 
 
20 POEMS OF LIFE 
 
 WHICH WAY 
 
 Which way, you waterfowls, which way? 
 
 "To our summer homes, 
 For nesting far away, 
 
 When summer comes." 
 
 Which way, you springtime clouds, which way? 
 
 "Over glen and field. 
 Supplying rain today 
 
 For harvest's yield." 
 
 Which way, you gentle wind, which way? 
 
 "To the mountain high, 
 To melt the snow away 
 
 For deserts dry." 
 
 Which way, you rippling stream, which way? 
 
 "Onward through the lea, 
 Supplying needs today 
 
 For yonder sea." 
 
 And you, my precious soul, which way? 
 
 "On paths that saints have trod. 
 Am seeking peace today 
 
 With Nature's God." 
 
 PASSING OF LIFE 
 
 I cannot tell by words 
 
 The language of my heart; 
 Flown have the summer birds, 
 
 And I soon must depart. 
 
POEMS OF LIFE 
 
 Break icebergs over reef 
 In Arctic fields of snow; 
 
 Falls verdure leaf by leaf 
 As autumns come and go. 
 
 Man, lofty for a time, 
 
 Stands as the forest tree; 
 
 But as the years incline 
 
 His strength and vigor flee. 
 
 Out to the lawn I go, 
 
 Where beauty roses bloomed; 
 Strange, strange! and yet I know 
 
 That all to death are doomed. 
 
 Here loitered bride and groom 
 With happy days to come — 
 
 Now bowed beside the tomb 
 The mourner stands alone. 
 
 Or as I turn aside, 
 
 Where happy children played; 
 Their destiny betide — 
 
 I stand alone, dismayed. 
 
 My heart had grief and pain, 
 As years bade time adieu; 
 
 But greater joys again 
 Fond memories renew. 
 
 I cannot tell by words 
 
 The language of my heart, 
 
 But firmly I'm assured 
 
 That love can ne'er depart. 
 
 31 
 
32 POEMS OF LIFE 
 
 All my thoughts and thinking 
 I cast upon the deep — 
 
 Let me be adrinking 
 
 Of love, which I shall keep. 
 
 EVENING WISH 
 
 Ends the storm its fearful blow, 
 At the quiet eventide — 
 
 Would my humble life below 
 Such a tranquil end betide! 
 
POEMS OF LIFE 33 
 
 LUCK IS LIKE A SUNBEAM 
 
 Luck is like a sunbeam — 
 It flashes as a bright gleam 
 
 And then it hides away; 
 No one can grasp it surely, 
 Say gravely and demurely, 
 
 "I'm lucky every day." 
 
 Luck is like a sunbeam — 
 It passes as a sweet dream 
 
 And cannot be recalled; 
 In the deep pangs of anguis,h. 
 The fainting heart may languish 
 
 And lucklessly be palled. 
 
 Luck is like a sunbeam — 
 It dashes as a swift stream 
 
 And must be caught in time; 
 Left flowing by unheeded. 
 It disappears when needed, 
 
 Quite lofty and sublime. 
 
 Luck is like a sunbeam — 
 
 It is fraught with life, I deem. 
 
 And quickens heart and soul; 
 The truly brave and plucky 
 Are always the most lucky 
 
 And safely reach the goal. 
 
34 
 
 POEMS OF LIFE 
 
 DESTINY 
 
 The spirit of man, 
 
 Like the mist and the rain, 
 Descends from on high 
 
 And rises again. 
 The changes of nature 
 Are seen in each creature. 
 
 O'er mountain and cUff 
 
 Torrents raging anon, 
 Neither quiet nor rest; 
 
 So the spirit moves on. 
 The life spark divine 
 "Must grow or decHne. 
 
 The wind spends its course 
 
 As the sun rises high. 
 Though it blew a brisk gale 
 
 Calm stillness is nigh. 
 The storm may devast. 
 But the sun shines at last. 
 
 Rain quickens the sod, 
 
 Wind moans and is spent; 
 
 A storm may destroy 
 
 The growth showers have lent. 
 
 Like rain is man's spirit, 
 
 Like wind is man's fate. 
 
POEMS OF LIFE 35 
 
 LONGING 
 
 I think of you, you joyous, happy times 
 When Hfe glowed in its morning hours. 
 
 Oh phantasy, turn back with merry chimes 
 And touch my soul with springtime flowers! 
 
 Turn backward thou, oh golden morning, 
 
 When I was borne into this life, 
 And, unknown to me all earthly mourning, 
 
 My happy heart beat free from strife. 
 
 Encircle me, you early, guileless years. 
 
 You Paradise, to me long lost. 
 Ere sweetest .hopes gave way to fears 
 
 And flowers were on sunbeams tossed. 
 
 'Tis sad, indeed, my longings are in vain. 
 These early joys have passed for aye; 
 
 Fast fade life's flowers, nor bloom again, 
 And slowly, too, we fade away. 
 
 Still I rise with faith in the bright glowing 
 
 Which heralds morn in eastern sky; 
 This faith, born of the certain knowing 
 
 Which truth reflects, can never die. 
 
 There is for all a heavy dream in store, 
 
 And after that a joyous waking up ; 
 How yearn I for the dawning, more and more, 
 
 When joy shall fill the much reputed cup! 
 
36 POEMS OF LIFE 
 
 Oh happy times, when flowers, once crushed below 
 
 By time and tide, will bloom anew ! 
 Oh happy land, where hearts, with fire aglow, 
 
 Will rise to bid all earthly cares adieu! 
 
 LEAVE THE BITTER IN THE CUP 
 
 A little busy honey bee 
 Flew hastily from tree to tree. 
 Sipping food from laden bower. 
 Gathering sweets from every flower. 
 
 Spake the maiden to the bee, 
 
 *'I saw you fly from tree to tree, 
 
 Bitter is some bloom, I think, 
 
 And yet from every flower you drink." 
 
 "Yes," spake the bee without ado, 
 "All that you say is very true, 
 I sip the sweeter juices up 
 And leave the bitter in the cup." 
 
POEMS OF HOME 
 
 THE LINDEN TREE 
 
 At the old home, on the greensward, 
 Stands the spreading Hnden tree, 
 
 Whose cordate leaves and yellow bloom 
 Alike are dear to me. 
 
 It sheltered me in summertime 
 While reposing in its shade; 
 
 I dreamed many a happy dream 
 As 'neath its boughs I laid. 
 
 Quite often in the bark I cut 
 
 Some endearing words to me. 
 
 Or leaned against it as a prop — 
 This sweet old linden tree. 
 
 And still the busy bees come here 
 To sip the sweets from flowers, 
 
 While birds find shelter for their nests 
 And safety from the showers. 
 37 
 
38 
 
 POEMS OF HOME 
 
 And when the dreary winters come 
 With snow and sleet and storm, 
 
 The Hnden with its massive boughs 
 Keeps snowbirds safe and warm. 
 
 Ahhough I'm now some distance 
 From the spreading Hnden tree, 
 
 It seems I hear a rusthng 
 And that it calls to me — 
 
 "Come back, lie 'neath my branches, 
 Come, cool your feverish brow ; 
 
 My shade will give you pleasure 
 From every branch and bough." 
 
 Though life to me is strenuous 
 In the growing marts of trade. 
 
 Yet secret longings bring me back 
 To loiter in the shade — 
 
 At the old home, on the greensward, 
 'Neath the spreading linden tree, 
 
 Whose leaves and trunk and branches 
 Alike are dear to me. 
 
POEMS OF HOME 
 
 THE DES MOINES* 
 
 And thou, Des Moines, on thy fair shore 
 
 We whiled away the days of yore, 
 
 In chase of squirrel and honey bee, 
 
 And ripened fruit of walnut tree. 
 
 We plucked the grape from lengthy vine 
 
 For lusty fish cast out the line. 
 
 And bathed our limbs in eddying pool, 
 
 As truants, going home from school. 
 
 We think of thee, oh! silvery stream. 
 As borne by elves on glittering beam. 
 And feel assured a fairy band 
 Oft decks thy banks with golden sand. 
 "The sturdy woods upon thy sides 
 Bow as thy water gently glides, 
 And, when the sun sinks in the west, 
 Their shadows bring us peaceful rest. 
 
 Sweet is the music of thy flow 
 As seasons swiftly come and go; 
 Thy haunts with song of birds abound, 
 Whose echoes in thy bluffs resound. 
 In all thy course from north to south. 
 From minute source to widened mouth. 
 Thy many blessings joy betide 
 As oceanward thy waters glide. 
 
 39 
 
 * Pronounced De Moin' 
 
40 POEMS OF HOME 
 
 MY BUNGALOW 
 
 I have a little bungalow 
 Tis all I have, and you may know 
 A silvery brook flows murmuring by, 
 A-singing of the fields and sky. 
 
 Near by the door stands a large tree 
 That shelters domicile and me, 
 And here the busy bee and bird 
 In buzzing flight and song are heard. 
 
 The path that leads up to my bower 
 Is bordered well by many a flower, 
 And those, perchance, who pass along 
 Are well refreshed by scent and song. 
 
 When winter chills the atmosphere. 
 From blazing grate I gather cheer, 
 And live in warmth and comfort still 
 As furious storms pass on at will. 
 
 Oft when at night I go to rest 
 It seems all things are for the best. 
 The sleep so sweet in which I sink 
 That ne'er do I of waking- think. 
 
 What say you of my bungalow 
 That e'er with pleasure is aglow? 
 If ever you should come this way, 
 I bid you call and with me stay. 
 
POEMS OF HOME 41 
 
 A WISH 
 
 Once more would I ere into Elysium, 
 
 The shadow world, my spirit sinks away. 
 
 Salute the scenes where early childhood 
 Gave me the dreams I realize today. 
 
 A branch from childhood's home, plucked from the 
 tree 
 
 Which father planted, gives rise to sweeter sound, 
 Oh Friend, than all the vines and laurel trees 
 
 That in the famed Levant are found. 
 
 The little meadow stream, where as a child 
 
 I plucked the violet, to me lulled sweeter song 
 
 And rippled with a more melodious tone 
 
 Than the famed River Styx to the Grecian throng. 
 
 To me the Pilot Mound, a hill near by. 
 
 Where often youth spent hours with sled and skate. 
 Gave rapture greater than the Alpine heights 
 
 Whose peaks tower grandly and sedate. 
 
 The shade of maple and of poplar trees. 
 
 With spreading branches near the family home, 
 
 Cooled feverish brow and still will cheer 
 The wanderer, if he but home will come. 
 
 Therefore would I ere into Elysium, 
 
 The shadbw world, my spirit sinks away. 
 Salute the scenes where early childhood 
 Gave me the dreams I realize today. 
 
42 
 
 POEMS OF HOME 
 
 And after that, Oh Friend, Genius of Death 
 May quench the flame: I drift away 
 
 To Anacreon's shades of myrtle 
 
 Without regret, free from dire dismay. 
 
 SWEET SCENES OF THE OLD HOME 
 
 Sweet, sweet scenes of the old home, 
 Wandering 'mong hills alone, 
 Climbing craggy cliff-pathways, 
 Looking through the evening haze. 
 Sweet, sweet scenes of the old home. 
 Where lowing herds graze and roam, 
 Where lowing herds graze and roam, 
 Sweet, sweet scenes of the old home. 
 Sweet, sweet scenes of the old home. 
 
 Sweet, sweet scenes of the old home. 
 
 Ere trials of years have come. 
 
 Gathering eggs of busy hens. 
 
 Seeking fruits in fields and fens. 
 
 Sweet, sweet scenes of the old home, 
 Long wintry nights and harmless fun, 
 Long wintry nights and harmless fun. 
 Sweet, sweet scenes of the old home. 
 Sweet, sweet scenes of the old home. 
 
POEMS OF HOME 43 
 
 Sweet, sweet scenes of the old home, 
 Where soft winds more gently moan, 
 Where the brooks are clearer bright. 
 And the sun gives softer light. 
 
 Sweet, sweet scenes of the old home. 
 To which parents bid me come, 
 To which parents bid me come. 
 Sweet, sweet scenes of the old home. 
 Sweet, sweet scenes of the old home. 
 
 SWEET CONTENTMENT 
 
 Grandma sits in her easy chair. 
 Near by plays her grandchild fair. 
 
 The two are staying home alone 
 All others to a feast have gone. 
 
 Grandma, once content and bright. 
 Says she's blinded by the light. 
 
 And whispers of the happy day 
 
 Ere youthful strength had passed away. 
 
 "Then life was fair to all my own. 
 But now I'm lonely and alone. 
 
 "And I am old and sick and weak, 
 Life has become both cold and bleak." 
 
 The grandchild long has played with zest^ 
 And wishes now to go to rest. 
 
44 POEMS OF HOME 
 
 Grandma lifts it to her lap 
 And cooes it for a pleasant nap. 
 
 The child speaks up so soft and low, 
 ''Grandmamma, I love you so. 
 
 "While Pa and Ma leave me alone, 
 You kindly stay with me at home." 
 
 These happy words from childish mind 
 A chord of love in grandma find. 
 
 Her thoughts go back when she was young, 
 Her health's restored, she's well and strong. 
 
 A happy smile is on her face, 
 
 The child sleeps warm in her embrace. 
 
 Happy is grandma and happy is child 
 For having the day so pleasantly whiled. 
 
 Ah, pleasant is youth and pleasant is age, 
 If we but calmly ill feelings assuage. 
 
 And this is the adage : when we do our best, 
 The night follows day with sweet, happy rest. 
 
Happy is grandma and happy is child 
 For having- the day so pleasantly whiled. 
 
POEMS OF LOVE 
 
 SONG OF LOVE 
 
 Bridge, do not break, you tremble much! 
 Cliff, do not fall as my feet touch ! 
 Oh sun, glide in your course above 
 Until I reach the one I love. 
 The one I love! 
 
 Lane, do not turn to left or right I 
 Stream, do not swell this cloudy night! 
 Oh stars, shine in your v^onted place 
 Until my loved I may embrace, 
 I may embrace! 
 
 And nowj that I have reached my love, 
 Oh sun, halt in your course above^ — 
 The day seems short and time glides fast, 
 Since I have reached my love at last, 
 My love at last! 
 
 And as I hold in my embrace, 
 And feel her form and see her face — 
 The storms may rage, the stars may fall, 
 For in my love I still have all, 
 I still have all! 
 45 
 
46 POEMS OF LOVE 
 
 WHAT THE FLOWERS SAID 
 
 Daisy spoke to me: "He loves you true 
 And all his bliss depends on you; 
 For he is ready, he now waits near — " 
 Daisy, you flatter and yet give cheer. 
 May God bless what you truly tell. 
 
 Sunflower said: "I must confess 
 This man does not true love possess ; 
 His heart is proud, cold and sedate — " 
 Sunflower, dear, you speak too late. 
 
 May God forgive my fear and doubt. 
 
 Sweet William said: "He's proved untrue 
 And basely has forsaken you — " 
 Sweet William, bloom both sweet and fair, 
 Sadly ril braid you in my hair. 
 
 May God help me this trying hour. 
 
 Then spoke the heart: "Dear maiden fair, 
 Your love must choose its mate with care ; 
 Trust only him who's proven true, 
 Who's shown himself a mate for you — " 
 May God have mercy on my soul. 
 
POEMS OF LOVE 47 
 
 YOUTHFUL FANCY 
 
 When youthful fancy fondly lingered 
 
 And passions' streams were all a-glow. 
 When evening breezes kissed the dew-drops 
 
 And summer sun was sinking low, 
 We would stroll 'mid sweetest flowers 
 
 Peeping out from bush and vine; 
 AH my hopes were linked with yours, 
 
 And yours indeed, were linked with mine. 
 
 When your lily hands would nestle, 
 
 Nestle in the palms of mine, 
 When your eyes would gently sparkle, 
 
 Sparkle with a love divine, 
 We would taste of sweetest pleasure, 
 
 In the joyous spring of life — 
 Heaven itself could not be fairer, 
 
 So rich with joy, so free from strife! 
 
 When you'd fondly pluck the roses 
 
 And the silvery aspen leaves. 
 Braiding them with willing fingers 
 
 Into twining, circling wreaths; 
 When we'd seal our vows with kisses 
 
 In the twilight and the dew, 
 'Till the nude moon rose above us, 
 
 And we'd fondly bid adieu. 
 
 Many years since then have parted, 
 
 Flown away in rapid turn. 
 But your words of fond devotion 
 
 Still upon my memory bum — 
 
48 POEMS OF LOVE 
 
 When we'd stroll 'mid sweetest flowers 
 Peeping out from bush and vine ; 
 
 All my hopes were linked with yours, 
 
 And yours, indeed, were linked with mine. 
 
 MY LOVE IS LIKE THE BLOSSOM 
 
 My love is like the blossom — 
 Sedate and calm and staid. 
 
 When gently in the twilight 
 The gleams of sunset fade. 
 
 Her eyes are like the budlet 
 
 In the morning dew and mist; 
 
 Her cheeks are like the petals 
 With myriad blushes kissed. 
 
 Her hair is like the stamens 
 With hues of sun and gold; 
 
 Her lips are like the carpels 
 That treasured sweets enfold. 
 
 It seems my hands should gently 
 
 Upon her head be laid, 
 Praying, God may ever keep her 
 
 Sedate and calm and staid. 
 
POEMS OF LOVE 49 
 
 DO YOU DOUBT 
 
 Do you doubt the love that I declare is yours? 
 
 Do you question where my heart's desire is set? 
 Can you feel the pulse that steadfastness assures, 
 
 And do you really think that I can e'er forget? 
 Ask of the brooks that sigh to kiss the sea, 
 
 Ask of the waves that dash and form the brine. 
 Ask of the winds that moan across the lea, 
 
 And they will tell you of a constancy like mine. 
 
 Do you doubt the solemn promises I made? 
 
 Do you fear to trust the heart that's true to you? 
 Can you think the love I pledged will fade, 
 
 When I vow that evermore I will be true? 
 Ask of the stars that twinkle in the night. 
 
 Ask of the beams that in the morning shine, 
 Ask of the gems that sparkle in the light, 
 
 And they will tell you of a trueness quite like mine. 
 
 Do you doubt that I will live my life for you? 
 
 Do you think a soul so fraught with love will fail? 
 Can you believe that love can love imbue, 
 
 And every act of doubt and fear entail? 
 Ask of the sweetest music played or sung, 
 
 Ask of the truest mother's love divine. 
 Ask of the softest curfew ever rung, 
 
 And they will tell you of a love like mine. 
 
50 POEMS OF LOVE 
 
 HECTOR AND ANDROMACHE 
 
 ANDROMACHE 
 
 Can it be true that Hector goes away 
 
 To fields where Achilles has wrought dismay 
 
 In baneful years gone by, with ram and sword? 
 Who then shall teach your children well to know 
 Their father's and my gods, and spears to throw, 
 
 When into Elysium your soul is lowered? 
 
 HECTOR 
 
 Dear wife, dry well your tearful eyes, today 
 My longings are to combat in the fray 
 
 And shield the honors that belong to Troy. 
 I dare to fight for homes and heroes brave, 
 To battle on with might fair Troy to save, 
 
 Else sink into the River Styx with joy. 
 
 ANDROMACHE 
 
 Alone you leave me here with grief dismayed, 
 You go to fall in everlasting shade, 
 
 Your love will in the Lethe sink away: 
 No rtiore shall my keen eyes behold you here, 
 Your weapons soon will rust in deserts drear, 
 
 And Priam's noble people shall decay. 
 
 HECTOR 
 
 Hear ! the sound of battle loudly calls. 
 Gird on my sword that I may storm the walls. 
 There to unfurl the banners far and high; 
 
POEMS OF LOVE 51 
 
 All my longings, all my strength and life 
 Give I to Troy and home and blessed wife, 
 And my love for you shall never die. 
 
 CONCLUSION 
 
 Those who survived saw in the vale afar 
 Hector a corpse dragged at the victor's car, 
 
 Slain by the stroke of Grecian blade — 
 Andromache fell fainting at the sight, 
 And Troy soon fell before the Grecian might, 
 
 But peaceful sleeps the mighty Hector's shade. 
 
 HAPPY WHO A HEART HAS FOUND 
 
 Oh happy who a heart has found 
 
 That lives and beats alone for love. 
 
 And by the ties of love is bound 
 
 In sweet concord where'er he rove. 
 
 Where two hearts become united 
 In faith and love, ne'er to forget. 
 
 And where each to each is plighted 
 The sun of joy will never set. 
 
 Since it is true that love is life, 
 I bid that you this vow renew, 
 
 Give love its way, in peace and strife, 
 And all the world belongs to you ! 
 
52 
 
 POEMS OF LOVE 
 
 THE BROKEN HEART 
 
 If only the birds could feel and know 
 
 How sad and sick and drear 
 I am today, they'd sing aglow 
 
 My wounded heart to cheer. 
 
 If only the flowers knew full well 
 
 What pangs of grief I feel, 
 Their eyes with bitter tears would swell 
 
 My pains to soothe and heal. 
 
 If only the stars, afar and high, 
 Could see my tear-stained eyes, 
 
 They'd mellow their light and draw anigh 
 To soothe my sobs and sighs. 
 
 But birds and flowers and stars aglow 
 
 Can neither feel nor see 
 What only she alone can know — 
 
 For she's broken the heart in me. 
 
POEMS OF LOVE 
 
 THOU ART SO FAIR 
 
 Suggested by Chapter 4, Songs of Solomon. 
 
 Thou art so fair, my Love, thou art so fair — 
 Fair are thy eyes and locks of waving hair; 
 Thy teeth are like pure ivory, so white. 
 Thy lips like scarlet threads are set aright; 
 Thy speech, thy temples, filled with glowing zest. 
 To me are comely like thy ample breast. 
 
 At night, ere dismal shadows flee away, 
 
 I would with thee in love and comfort stay 
 
 To drink from fount of myrrh the sweetest scent 
 
 Which thou, my Love, to me in bounty lent. 
 
 And I from thee would never, never part, 
 
 For thou, my Spouse, hast ravished all my heart. 
 
 My Love is fair, to me so fair and dear. 
 Much fairer than the wine dost thou appear; 
 Thy lips and tongue like honeycomb are sweet, 
 Blest is the path where'er may trod thy feet; 
 Thou like a garden art, with sparkling spring, 
 A fountain where the mystic cupids sing. 
 
 Try as I may to dampen fervid love, 
 It springs within as if from heav'n above; 
 Floods cannot impassioned love subdue. 
 For every throb of heart swells it anew. 
 And I shall my beloved's ever be, 
 And my adored alone shall live for me. 
 
 53 
 
54 POEMS OF LOVE 
 
 Then, let the chilly north winds blow anon, 
 And let the autumn breezes southward come 
 To ripen fruits in gardens, far and wide, 
 That nature all with pleasant scents betide; 
 And let me dwell where sparkling waters flow 
 To lean upon my love as time shall go. 
 
 YOU THINK OF ME SO SELDOM 
 
 You think of me so seldom, 
 
 I think so much of you, 
 A world of doubt divides us, 
 
 And bids us say adieu. 
 
 But I would span the distance, 
 And we would sail with ease, 
 
 From zones of doubt and suspense 
 To fairer, calmer seas. 
 
 Would you give your affection, 
 
 In fervent faith and love. 
 The whole world would be lighted 
 
 With rays from heaven above. 
 
POEMS OF LOVE 55 
 
 DEVOTION 
 
 A pansy in the meadow grew 
 
 Whose bloom and bhish no one knew ; 
 
 It was a lovely pansy. 
 
 There came a youthful maiden fair 
 
 Without a sigh, without a care 
 
 And sang a song, 
 
 And gaily tripped along. 
 
 "Ah!" sighed the pansy, "If I knew 
 
 I were the finest bloom that grew, 
 
 E'en only for a moment, 
 
 And she'd pluck me from my stem 
 
 And press me to her breast, and then 
 
 Kiss me, kiss me — 
 
 No greater bliss could be !" 
 
 But, alas! this maiden came 
 
 The tender bloom to crush and maim, 
 
 Stepped on the lovely pansy; 
 
 But cheerfully it leaned its head 
 
 "Fm glad to die," the pansy said, 
 
 " Tis sweet, 'tis sweet 
 
 To die beneath her feet." 
 
56 POEMS OF LOVE 
 
 ROSE OF THE MEADOW 
 
 From the German of Johann Herder. 
 
 Saw a youth a rose one time, 
 
 Little meadow rosy: 
 Saw it was so sweet and fine, 
 Said, *'I wish that it were mine, 
 
 This blooming little posy." 
 Rosy, rosy, rosy red. 
 
 Little meadow rosy! 
 
 Said the youth, "I will pluck you. 
 
 Little meadow rosy!" 
 Said the rose, "But if you do 
 I will stick and make you rue, 
 
 I'm a blooming posy." 
 Rosy, rosy, rosy red. 
 
 Little meadow rosy! 
 
 And the daring youth did break 
 
 Little meadow rosy: 
 And the rosy made him quake — 
 Yet for sweet friendship's sake 
 
 Became his true posy. 
 Rosy, rosy, rosy red, 
 
 Little meadow rosy! 
 
POEMS OF LOVE 57 
 
 POWER OF LOVE 
 
 A word is but a simple sign 
 
 Our mental status to reveal, 
 
 Or our motives to conceal, 
 Or the false with truth combine. 
 
 Not so with our true affection, 
 Which flows on with perfect rhyme, 
 
 And the heart feels no dejection 
 At the joyous mating time: 
 Hate gives out sad, doleful groans, 
 Love speaks in the sweetest tones. 
 
 Love was given us from heaven, 
 
 And the heart was taught to love 
 
 By the spirit from above, 
 Earthly ills to soothe and leaven. 
 
 Love's the privilege of the mind. 
 The soul and reason of all life, 
 
 The law that governs all mankind 
 And frees us from the bane of strife : 
 Hate seeks to darken and distress, 
 Love governs wisely with kindness. 
 
 Love is an Incarnate blessing, 
 
 Springing from the inner soul. 
 Making the heartsick fully whole, 
 
 Cheering with its sweet caressing. 
 
 Love has power to soothe the madness 
 
 Of the stern, unkind and cold, 
 
 And to change drear gloom to gladness 
 
 As if turning dross to gold : 
 
 Hate is stern, cold and decoy. 
 
 Love is life and strength and joy. 
 
58 POEMS OF LOVE 
 
 Oh! for Cupid's bow and arrow, 
 That I might enflame the drear, 
 That I might the lonely cheer 
 
 And with love displace keen sorrow. 
 As a star speaks to a star, 
 
 As the light springs from the flame, 
 So affection, near or far. 
 
 Reciprocates true love again; 
 
 Hate drives every joy away, 
 
 Love kindly calls and bids you stay. 
 
 ^W 
 
POEMS OF RELIGION 
 
 AWAY, AWAY! 
 
 I know a land where grows the pine, 
 Where oaks in glowing sunset shine, 
 Where softer breezes sweep the main 
 And life's refreshed by gentler rain — 
 
 Do you know that land? Away, away, 
 There would I, oh beloved, stay ! 
 
 I know a house of plainest build. 
 Where life is lived as love has willed, 
 Where duty leads both one and all 
 And dreams the joys of life recall — 
 
 Do you know that house ? Away, away. 
 There would I, oh beloved, stay! 
 
 I know a home by sages named. 
 In every land, through ages famed, 
 Where dwell the saints, eternal goal! 
 The home forever of the soul — 
 
 Do you know that home? Away, away, 
 There would I, oh beloved, stay! 
 
 59 
 
6o POEMS OF RELIGION 
 
 GOD AND NATURE 
 
 I love the beauty of the earth, 
 
 'Tis well worth adoration; 
 Held firmly, as it speeds through space, 
 
 By the law of gravitation. 
 
 And yet it but the footstool is 
 
 Of God, the great Eternal, 
 The mind that guides the universe 
 
 In time and cause diurnal. 
 
 I love the moon with phases strange. 
 The twinkling stars in stilly night; 
 
 I love the sun, the ball of fire 
 
 Which gives me needed heat and light. 
 
 And yet these but the creatures are 
 
 Of God, unchanged through endless time, 
 
 Far greater He than all the worlds — 
 The only God, the vast, sublime! 
 
 Since earth His fitting footstool is 
 
 And sun and stars shine at His throne, 
 
 How great must be His heart of hearts 
 That calls the dreary wanderer home! 
 
 ANTHEM : 
 
 In Thee I find the sum of life, 
 
 Direct my thoughts alone to Thee; 
 
 Control and guide my wandering heart. 
 And let thy spirit dwell in me: 
 
 Clothe me in time, oh God, I pray, 
 With garments of eternal day. 
 
POEMS OF RELIGION 6l 
 
 CORREGGIO'S THE HOLY NIGHT 
 
 Translated from the German. 
 
 Silent night, Holy night! 
 
 All repose, — halo light 
 
 Shines on the loving parental pair, 
 
 Who in the stall at Bethlehem are 
 
 By the heavenly Child, 
 
 By the heavenly Child. 
 
 Silent night. Holy night! 
 
 Shepherds see star most bright, 
 
 Angels singing hallelujah, 
 
 Bringing glad tidings from heav'n afar, 
 
 Christ, the Savior, is born, 
 
 Christ, the Savior, is born. 
 
 Silent night, Holy night! 
 Son of God, love's pure light, 
 O'erwhelms us, a redeeming power, 
 When we're strick'n by the saving hour, 
 Jesus Christ, through thy birth, 
 Jesus Christ, through thy birth. 
 
 Silent night, Holy night! 
 . Earth, awaken at the sight, — 
 Let every creature bend the knee. 
 Let all proclaim the jubilee. 
 Peace on earth forever, 
 Peace on earth forever. 
 
62 POEMS OF RELIGION 
 
 HOPE AND TRUST 
 
 Whoever plants an acorn seed, 
 With faith that it will fill a need ; 
 Who seeks for potence in the sod, 
 He lives in hope and trusts in God. 
 
 Whoever plows 'and tills the soil. 
 And plants the seed with earnest toil ; 
 Who waits on nature to reward, 
 He lives in hope and trusts in God. 
 
 Whoever guides a youthful mind, 
 That it might power and wisdom find; 
 Who aims that sin be overawed. 
 He lives in hope and trusts in God. 
 
 Whoever teaches men to know. 
 That they must reap whate'er they sow, 
 Who stands for truth, unshorn, unshod, 
 He lives in hope and trusts in God. 
 
 Whoever leads a mighty host. 
 To save a cause that's almost lost ; 
 Who pleads for right, 'gainst every odd, 
 He lives in hope and trusts in God. 
 
 Whoever keeps the faith secure. 
 Though death may hover at the door ; 
 Who is alert, though others nod. 
 He lives in hope and trusts in God. 
 
POEMS OF RELIGION 
 LAND BEYOND THE SKY 
 
 You may tell about the splendor 
 
 Of the land beyond the sky. 
 Where youth's eternal fountain 
 
 And life forever vie; 
 Where angels dwell in glory 
 
 And kiss away each tear, 
 But fondest hopes will not avail, 
 
 Unless you live them here. 
 
 You may preach about the city 
 
 That was builded for the true. 
 And tell about its golden streets. 
 
 Its gates and portals too; 
 You may point us to the Saviour 
 
 The lonely heart to cheer, 
 You'll never reach those golden gates 
 
 By telling of them here. 
 
 You may describe the temple 
 
 Built eternally by God, 
 And courts where lawyers never plead, 
 
 Nor slyly wink and nod ; 
 This bench is a true mercy seat, 
 
 Its mandates just and clear. 
 You'll not escape its fearful wrath 
 
 By merely preaching here. 
 
 You may tell us of the music 
 Resounding from the throne. 
 
 And point out kings and sages 
 
 Who from every clime have come, — 
 
 63 
 
64 POEMS OF RELIGION 
 
 And gathered home in glory 
 By their own Saviour dear, 
 
 But your going there will much depend 
 Upon your deeds down here. 
 
 The many acts of valor, 
 
 The daily words of love, 
 The practice of great virtues 
 
 Are the things that count above ; 
 The faith in sacred promises 
 
 Given to us from on high, 
 Will elevate the sinner 
 
 To the land beyond the sky. 
 
 SING, O MY SOUL 
 
 Sing, O my soul! in sacred lays. 
 And give thy great Creator praise; 
 No mortal tongue can e'er proclaim 
 The fulness of his power and fame. 
 
 Enthroned for countless times and years, 
 In glory 'mid the radiant spheres, 
 He did the heart to faith incline, 
 And made thee, soul of man, divine. 
 
 Great are his wonderful designs; 
 The universe with splendor shines 
 Because of his inspiring breath. 
 Which gave thee life and conquers death. 
 
POEMS OF RELIGION 
 
 He, O my soul! will thee array 
 
 In garments of eternal day, 
 
 And lead the faithful by the hand, 
 
 To the heavenly home, the Beulah land. 
 
 May thy devotion, faithful soul, 
 His glories laud, his power extol. 
 And let his praise be on thy tongue 
 Until all mankind joins the song. 
 
 65 
 
 TWENTY-THIRD PSALM 
 
 The Lord is my shepherd. 
 No want shall I know ; 
 
 I rest in green pastures, 
 Where still waters flow. 
 
 My soul He has strengthened, 
 As years went and came; 
 
 In right paths He has led me. 
 For the sake of His name. 
 
 As death cast its shadow 
 
 No evil I feared; 
 His staff gave me comfort, 
 
 His presence me cheered. 
 
 In the gloom of despair 
 
 That my enemies wrought. 
 
 My cup filled with blessings. 
 Turned dangers to naught. 
 
66 POEMS OF RELIGION 
 
 My head He anointed 
 With perfumes and oil ; 
 
 He awarded me gladness 
 For labor and toil. 
 
 And goodness and mercy 
 Shall follow each day; 
 
 I will dwell with the Lord 
 Forever and aye. 
 
 GEMORRAH 
 
 In the street is gnawing the fire, 
 Fierce as the beast of prey, 
 
 While musicians on the lyre 
 Most jubilantly play. 
 
 On couches the daughters are resting. 
 Tired of games and the dance — 
 
 Of forbidden fruit they've been testing- 
 Of unclean deed and glance. 
 
 They dream of the darkened pleasure, 
 Of deeds haughty and vain, 
 
 And in dreams, with sinful measure, 
 Forcefully act them again. 
 
 Their dreams will turn into sorrow 
 As the watchman blows his horn; 
 
 Jehovah's wrath at the morrow 
 Will leave their city forlorn. 
 
POEMS OF RELIGION 67 
 
 THE BEATITUDES 
 
 When Christ, of sacred life the fount, 
 Taught the multitudes upon the mount. 
 
 He spoke to them as they drew near, 
 And uttered words the world to cheer. 
 
 The poor in spirit shall be blessed. 
 For heaven shall be their home and rest. 
 
 And those that mourn and those that grieve 
 Shall cheer and helpful strength receive. 
 
 The meek and lowly, be it known. 
 With blessings rich this earth shall own. 
 
 Those that hunger, I have willed. 
 For righteousness, shall be well filled. 
 
 Those who are merciful and fair 
 Shall obtain mercy as their share. 
 
 The pure in heart shall blessed be 
 And God, the Father, surely see. 
 
 The peacemakers, as their reward. 
 Shall be called children of their God. 
 
 Those persecuted for my sake 
 Shall of the heavenly home partake. 
 
68 POEMS OF RELIGION 
 
 And those reviled and falsified 
 Shall have God's blessings multiplied. 
 
 And these, the nine Beatitudes, 
 Christ taught to the vast multitudes. 
 
 He gave them out to all the world 
 As well as those who saw and heard 
 
 The Sermon on the Mount ; I can see 
 How all these words apply to me. 
 
 Then, let us live that we may share 
 
 The blessings named on the mountain fair. 
 
 And, well for us all, in peace and strife. 
 If we heed these words each day of life. 
 
FOEMS OF RELIGION 69 
 
 BELSHAZZAR THE KING 
 
 Belshazzar and his thousand lords 
 
 Long fought in wars with spears and swords. 
 
 He had much gold and many a gem 
 Brought to him from Jerusalem. 
 
 When peace and wealth to him had come, 
 He gave a feast in Babylon. 
 
 With music, dance and song made mirth 
 To free the passions of this earth. 
 
 And drank from sacred cups the wines 
 With princes, wives and concubines. 
 
 He praised false gods as heathens do, 
 Before the Everlasting True. 
 
 He seized a sacred cup with vim 
 And filled it sparkling to the rim. 
 
 He drank the wine, with trumpets blown, 
 To the gods of silver, gold and stone. 
 
 And as he quafifed, with proud disdain, 
 He took the name of God in vain. 
 
 Said he, ''Jehovah," with a ring, 
 "Of Babylon I am the king. 
 
70 POEMS OF RELIGION 
 
 "The many millions of my land 
 Will rise or fall as I command." 
 
 But as he spoke his haughty cheer 
 Gave way to dismal doubt and fear. 
 
 A mystic hand wrote on the wall 
 And deathlike quiet frightened all. 
 
 The king was changed, pale was his face, 
 He quaked and trembled in his place. 
 
 Then cried the queen "Forever live 
 And let your thoughts no trouble give. 
 
 "Bring Daniel here and let him tell. 
 Be this evil, be this well." 
 
 And Daniel soon before the king 
 Declared his wise interpreting. 
 
 Said he, "Oh king, the most wise God 
 Gave to thy kin a sceptered rod. 
 
 "Thy father gave He power and might 
 When he ruled his kingdom right. 
 
 "But when his heart with pride was cold 
 Like oxen fed him grass of old. 
 
 "And you, his son, have drunken wmes 
 With princes, wives and concubines. 
 
O n^ 
 
 'JO. ^ 
 
 ►-+1 ISO 
 
 O N 
 
 CfQ -t 
 
 ir ^ - - 
 
 
 
 l^^^l^mi^ %^P^€r^ 
 
 JH^ ^'^ .-%SI 
 
POEMS OF RELIGION 71 
 
 "The sacred cups youVe made unclean 
 And made the holy vessels mean. 
 
 "Now in the scales you're weighed at last; 
 Your wanton earthly reign is past. 
 
 "Your land now passes with its needs 
 To the Persians and the Medes." 
 
 The king gave Daniel at this hour 
 Scarlet, gold and ruling power. 
 
 But the Medes that very night 
 Slew the king with force and might. 
 
 Onward they came on conqueror's wing, 
 Displacing Belshazzar, Belshazzar the king. 
 
 Found wanting in the ways of right, 
 His reign passed 'way like dismal night. 
 
 This wholesome lesson teaches all 
 That pride e'er goeth before the fall. 
 
^2 
 
 POEMS OF RELIGION 
 THE WANDERING JEW 
 
 The legend of The Wandering Jezv 
 Related well by Eugene Sue; 
 And oft retold in song and story, 
 Comes down to us from ages hoary. 
 
 And now this story I retell, 
 
 In verses short and not so well 
 
 As it was told before, on bended knee, 
 
 And for my briefness pardon me: 
 
 When Jesus bore the cross alone 
 For sins of mankind to atone, 
 The task so hard, the load so great, 
 He fell to earth beneath its weight. 
 
 *'Go faster," spake the Jew in scorn, 
 "Why falter, though your flesh be torn?" 
 And thus by act, and deed, and word 
 He harshly crucified his Lx)rd. 
 
 And Jesus spake, 'T go away 
 
 To fulfill the plan of judgment day. 
 
 In my Father's house, oh, blessed home ! 
 
 But tarry thou until I come." 
 
 Devoid of pity, the wandering Jew 
 E'er must his doleful lot pursue ; 
 Though death relieves some men from strife 
 He's doomed to toil and deathless life. 
 
POEMS OF RELIGION 73 
 
 He wanders on from day to day, 
 No aim nor goal to guide the way; 
 In every land he's strange, alone, 
 And yet in every country known. 
 
 A burning curse is on his race 
 And drives him forth from place to place. 
 The word, the curse, he. cannot name. 
 Though peace eternal to him came. 
 
 The evening breeze cools not his brow, 
 The morning sun warms not, and now 
 A fog brings dimness and despair 
 In every clime and everywhere. 
 
 No friend to him a welcome lends, 
 No smile, no cheer to him extends ; 
 To him no bird sings its sweet song: 
 All leave him to his gloom alone. 
 
 And as he turns from haunted place 
 An empty world peers in his face ; 
 Striving in vain from morass to fly. 
 Sad memories rise from days gone by. 
 
 The wind expands the freighter's sail, 
 The stream flows gently through the vale, 
 The forest bows in friendly nod — 
 All in obedience to God. 
 
 The eagle swings in flight through air 
 Without a toil, without a care ; 
 His home is in the mountain high. 
 And rest is his when night is nigh. 
 
74 POEMS OF RELIGION 
 
 The dolphins through the waters gHde 
 As steamers on the ocean ride, 
 But when the storm has passed away 
 They rest secure in Aegean Bay. 
 
 The clouds full-laden with their weight 
 The moistures soon precipitate, 
 And fall upon the mother earth 
 To give her life, to cause new birth. 
 
 But he a wanderer alone, 
 Without a friend, without a home ; 
 Each morn awakes with new-born care, 
 Each night adds scores to dull despair. 
 
 Oh men! if you these verses read, 
 I pray you give this soul some heed; 
 Leave not this wanderer in despair. 
 But think of him in faith and prayer. 
 
 Perhaps, your allotted time is spent. 
 Your head is bowed, your back is bent, 
 But at the grave grant this request. 
 Pray that he have an hour's rest. 
 
POEMS OF POWER 
 
 KATE SHELLEY, THE HEROINE 
 
 The July night was dark, heavily fell 
 
 The rains in torrents down, o'er vale and hill. 
 And o'er the landscape cast a dreary spell. 
 
 As if with deluge deep all nature fill ; 
 The lightnings flashed, the thunders rolled on high, 
 
 And heaven was in a dreadful darkness wrapped. 
 The flashes streamed and dazzled human eye. 
 
 And cheer was from the living marrow sapped : 
 On such a night as this, is there distress 
 That human hand can ease or render less? 
 
 Already is the bridge at Honey Creek destroyed, 
 
 Swept by the surging, teeming floods away ; 
 A freight has plunged headlong into the void. 
 
 And two are dead and two in dire dismay. 
 The storm still rages with relentless power 
 
 As Wood and Agar to the branches cling ; 
 The maddening waves of water higher tower. 
 
 The howling winds still greater dangers bring: 
 Dark shades of death give rise to doubt and fear^ 
 With perils great and with no succor near ! 
 
 75 
 
76 POEMS OF POWER 
 
 Afar off to the west, with certain strides, 
 
 The train of passengers is bounding fast. 
 Her men are at the throttle, on her rides 
 
 A band, increasing as the towns are passed; 
 They know that Hghtnings flash and thunders roll, 
 
 And hear the labored efforts of the Iron Horse, 
 But trust in confidence their living soul 
 
 To wheel and rail and nature's force: 
 With terror and with fear they'd be unmanned, 
 If they but knew the dangers near at hand. 
 
 Quite near the bridge, by torrents swept away, 
 
 Kate Shelley 'wakes by howling of the storm, 
 Nor fears to help and rescue from dismay 
 
 The sadly wrecked and helpless human form ; 
 While one small maiden hand is far too weak 
 
 To measure strength with dashing, maddened waves, 
 It still has power a greater aim to seek 
 
 In saving many souls from watery graves: 
 Like flash of lightning through the crushing rain. 
 It gleams on her that she can save the train. 
 
POEMS OF POWER yy 
 
 Upon her knees, with hands bleeding and torn, 
 
 She creeps across the Des Moines River bridge 
 And hurries on, with hopeful passion borne, 
 
 That she might reach the station on the ridge ; 
 Six hundred feet of bridge, two hundred rods of 
 grade — 
 
 But worlds of daring spirit in her swell. 
 And she is mighty, mighty is the maid. 
 
 Who saves the train and human lives as well : 
 In gratitude our minds and hearts combine 
 To praise this deed of the brave heroine. 
 
 Let titled lord and mansion grand decay 
 
 And graven stone in ages crumble down. 
 Let storied urn in silence pass away 
 
 And bust of sculpture lose its fair renown: 
 The heroine with fame shall be enshrined 
 
 To live for aye in story and in song, 
 Her name with daring deeds shall be combined 
 
 In countryplace and with the passing throng: 
 And those who love the brave and the sincere 
 Will learn from her and her kind deeds endear. 
 
78 POEMS OF POWER 
 
 SUCCESS 
 
 It means a cross for faithful hands to carry, 
 In contest fierce, and with tireless brain ; 
 
 It means that weary limbs must never tarry, 
 
 When right demands that we should try again. 
 
 At morn may beauty roses bloom in glory. 
 
 At noon may shrink and wither stem and leaves, 
 
 At night may all the world seem cold and hoary, 
 And yet should this the spirit vex and grieve? 
 
 You cringe because your hands are bleeding. 
 And seek a new and untried field for luck; 
 
 And soon release your grip, when you should be 
 heeding 
 The fact that true success depends on pluck. 
 
 If you despair when days are clear and cloudless, 
 
 And dream that dreadful storms are raging over- 
 head. 
 
 An awful ghost will rise before you shroudless, 
 And all your early hopes will soon be dead. 
 
 Success will surely come with time and labor, 
 If we our aims will carry far and high, 
 
 For we can win the plaudits of our neighbor. 
 And reach the goal by perseverance bye and bye. 
 
POEMS OF POWER 79 
 
 INGERSOLL'S FUNERAL ORATION 
 
 My loved and loving brother, 'twas his request 
 That I should speak this sad and solemn hour ; 
 
 A vine twines 'round our dead, it seemeth best, 
 Which makes each loving act a perfumed flower. 
 
 He passed ere manhood's morning touches noon, 
 While yet the shadows fall toward the west; 
 
 Before he reached the stone which marks the highest 
 boon, 
 He wearied for a moment, and lay down to rest. 
 
 Down by the wayside laid he his burden great, 
 While yet in love with life and with the world, 
 
 Into that dreamless sleep, that sad estate. 
 
 He passed to dust with all his powers unfurled. 
 
 Yet, after all, it may be best to pass 
 
 While in the happiest, sunniest hour of Hfe, 
 
 While eager winds sweep over rocks, alas ! 
 To wreck the ship and swiftly end the strife. 
 
 For it is true, sail we on highest sea. 
 
 Or reach the breakers of the farther shore, 
 
 At last a wreck will mark both you and me, 
 
 And death and mystery will claim us evermore. 
 
 This tender man in every storm of life. 
 
 As rock or grounded oak, was firm and staid ; 
 
 He was a vine and flower in sunshine rife. 
 
 And on his forehead was the gold of morning laid. 
 
8o POEMS OF POWER 
 
 He loved the beautiful in nature and in art, 
 
 And was by color, form and music moved to tears ; 
 
 The poor and wronged impressed his tender heart, 
 He gave to justice all his passing years. 
 
 He worshipped right and was a foe to wrong, 
 
 He added to the sum of human joy, 
 He taught that gladness speeds the world along 
 
 And love and reason are not mere alloy. 
 
 For happiness he sought with soul sincere. 
 
 And were each one he helped, and each he gave 
 
 An aim, to bring a single blossom here, 
 
 A wilderness of flowers would hide his grave. 
 
 Life at its best is but a narrow vale 
 
 'Twixt peaks of two eternities, so cold and drear ; 
 We cry aloud the endless heights to scale. 
 
 No answer comes the aching heart to cheer. 
 
 Hope in the night of death can see a star. 
 
 And list'ning love can hear the rustle of a wing ; 
 
 Our loved departed has gone out afar, 
 
 Let us believe that death can comfort bring. 
 
 To those he loved we give his sacred dust, 
 Speech cannot our passionate love contain; 
 
 His deeds outlive the animated bust, 
 
 His gentle strength and manhood are our gain. 
 
POEMS OF POWER 8l 
 
 WRECK OF THE TITANIC 
 
 And thou, Atlantic, near Newfoundland's shore. 
 
 What woe for humankind hast thou in store ? 
 
 From the sad wrecks that through the years are traced. 
 
 As graveyard thou art known in ocean's waste! 
 
 Though ships sail safely o'er the wildest sea, 
 
 Thy fogs bewilder when they pass on thee ; 
 
 Thy storms rage high, and mighty breakers bound. 
 
 And icebergs frequently sink them aground. 
 
 The great Titanic, monarch of the sea — 
 
 A world of power, as she sailed on thee — 
 
 Her fires consumed their fuel with might and main, 
 
 Her sailors plied their art high speed to gain, 
 
 Her faithful officers relied on skill and steel, 
 
 Her passengers did no unsafety feel — 
 
 But on thy troubled face this ship, ahoy. 
 
 Was struck and sunk as if she were a toy. 
 
 At half past two, ere yet the cock had crowed. 
 Began to sink the ship with crew and load. 
 "Be British," said Captain Smith to all his crew, 
 "Heed well the rules, which all true men must do.'* 
 Then wireless messages were quickly sent 
 And danger rockets the still night-air rent. 
 Will help yet come, is succor near at hand? 
 Will only one-third live to reach the land? 
 
82 POEMS OF POWER 
 
 Sixteen hundred souls were dying fast, 
 
 They knew their doom, there was no help at last — 
 
 The timid swooned and shrieked, the brave stood still. 
 
 And some leaped off to die with iron will — 
 
 But, when she sunk, a thousand shrieks were rushed 
 
 Above the sea and waves, but soon all hushed, 
 
 Except a straggling few who still hung on. 
 
 And then the ship and crew and all were gone! 
 
 What right has man to build a ship like this 
 And let the life-preserving be amiss ? 
 What worth has life since it has come to pass 
 That ships speed rapidly where icebergs mass? 
 On board were stores of coin and gems and wealth, 
 Music and laughter, skill and rustic health, 
 But, oh ! for the souls that went to their doom 
 In contest for life at their watery tomb ! 
 
POEMS OF POWER 83 
 
 LINCOLN AT GETTYSBURG 
 
 Fourscore and seven years ago 
 
 Upon the continent was born 
 A nation new, as well we know, 
 
 Which heralds forth the golden morn. 
 Conceived in liberty and right, 
 
 This land is given to the free, 
 And all are equal, none by might 
 
 Shall e'er debased or cowered be. 
 
 A civil war of mighty power 
 
 Is testing now our country's strength, 
 The issues of this very hour 
 
 May cause the nation's death at length. 
 We're met upon this battle-field 
 
 A final resting place to give 
 To those who fought, and would not yield, 
 
 That this, their nation, still might live. 
 
 We cannot consecrate this ground 
 
 Since the brave men who struggled here, 
 With sabers bare, at cannon's mouth, 
 
 Have hallowed it and made it dear ; 
 The world will little note our needs 
 
 Or long remember what we say, 
 But never can forget their deeds, 
 
 As they fought nobly in the fray. 
 
84 ' POEMS OF POWER 
 
 It is for us — those living now — 
 
 To be devoted to the cause, 
 To take a consecration vow, 
 
 And still the booming cannons' jaws 
 The honored dead should give us cheer. 
 
 Should us inspire with hope and life, 
 Should banish every doubt and fear 
 
 And quicken us to win the strife. 
 
 Let us resolve that those who died 
 
 For us shall not have died in vain. 
 Let us be firm on freedom's side 
 
 And loyal to the cause remain ; 
 We pray that this land, under God, 
 
 Of freedom shall have a new birth. 
 That liberty, won by the sword, 
 
 Shall not perish from the earth. 
 
POEMS OF POWER 85 
 
 NIGHTFALL 
 
 Now is the warmth of early spring day- 
 Has Hfe a richly growth enjoyed; 
 
 Sinks down the sun beyond the still bay 
 And streamers shoot with gold alloyed. 
 
 Besides the nighthawk's stealthy flight, 
 No sound is heard, no form is near, 
 
 The human kind is out of sight 
 
 And all rest safely in their sphere. 
 
 Beyond the bay the Sabine flowing 
 
 In course quite sluggish through the lea, 
 Belated boats are homeward rowing 
 
 In currents moving from the sea. 
 And yonder on the billows surging 
 
 The ships come in from far and near, 
 With safety from the shoals emerging 
 
 Soon to rest safely in their sphere. 
 
 Far overhead are moving slowly 
 
 The waterfowls in cloud-like mass, 
 With leader surging onward boldly 
 
 As over plain and field they pass. 
 Returning from their winter quarters 
 
 In flight through high, thin atmosphere, 
 They seek the cooler northern waters 
 
 To rest at last within their sphere. 
 
86 POEMS OF POWER 
 
 And you, my heart, may cease repining 
 
 When ship and bird have certain flight; 
 The mind that is their course incHning 
 
 Will likewise guide your steps aright. 
 How like the fowl in boundless sky 
 
 We long for rest when night is near! 
 Or breathe a prayer, or lisp a sigh 
 
 As we at last attain our sphere. 
 
 THE TEACHER-GIRL 
 
 The teacher-girl at institute. 
 Sedate and calm and real astute ; 
 She dresses plain but quite in style, 
 She greets us with a winsome smile, 
 And tries to please us all the while, 
 This teacher-girl. 
 
 This teacher-girl, a help to youth, 
 A living guide to right and truth ! 
 In duty's path she leads the way. 
 To hopeless dunce she brings dismay, 
 To studious mind gives greater sway, 
 This teacher-girl. 
 
 The teacher-girl, her social side 
 The city's boast, the hamlet's pride! 
 She entertains with game and song, 
 With music speeds the time along, 
 And swells the ever-listening throng. 
 This teaoher-girl. 
 
POEMS OF POWER 87 
 
 This teacher-glrl, to us well known, 
 Has many a seed of learning sown ! 
 Where barren soils were clothed in weeds, 
 Where thorns and thistles yielded seeds, 
 She cleared the way for culture's needs, 
 This teacher-girl. 
 
 The teacher-girl, the teacher-girl. 
 Her ensign to the world unfurl! 
 Let wayward urchin imitate. 
 Let youthful student emulate. 
 And let the world grant her estate. 
 This teacher-girl. 
 
POEMS OF POWER 
 
 AT FATHER'S GRAVE 
 
 Peace, sweet, happy peace there be 
 At this place, where oft I tarried. 
 Where a noble man they buried, 
 
 And he was more to me. 
 
 Grasped he my hand in childhood 
 To steady step for certain stride, 
 As if the twig to bend and guide, 
 
 Little then I understood. 
 
 With precept and example true, 
 He taught my young life to abide 
 In paths that lean on virtue's side, 
 
 Greater firmness to imbue. 
 
 In manhood years, soon attained. 
 His fervent prayers were given 
 That I abide in hopes of heaven 
 
 And this precept remained. 
 
 Virtues he praised and failures chid, 
 At early morn and evening late. 
 And I never can reciprocate 
 
 What good for me he did. 
 
 Peace, sweet, happy peace there be 
 At this place, where oft I tarried, 
 Where a noble man they buried. 
 
 And he was more to me. 
 
As if the twig to bend and guide. 
 
POEMS OF POWER 89 
 
 WHEN WORKMEN ALL VOTE AS 
 THEY OUGHT 
 
 We're nearing the glorious dawn, 
 
 Of the times for which heroes have fought, 
 When the lines of truth shall be drawn, 
 
 And workmen all vote as they ought. 
 
 'Twill be a time in which justice shall reign, 
 When men cannot be frightened or bought, 
 
 And the people will loyal remain, 
 
 For workmen will vote as they ought. 
 
 All trusts and combines were enthroned 
 By votes that were cast without thought, 
 
 And they cannot be safely dethroned 
 
 Until workmen all vote as they ought. 
 
 Oppression and wrong shall not thrive, 
 With burdens our lives press to naught. 
 
 Or force youth from cottage to dive, 
 
 When workmen all vote as they ought. 
 
 The homes of the poor that are sad, 
 Where in vain the needful is sought, 
 
 Will be made both cheerful and glad, 
 When workmen all vote as they ought. 
 
90 
 
 POEMS OF POWER 
 
 The baby will have clothes and toys, 
 
 For the housewife the useful be bought ; 
 
 There'll be plenty for both girls and boys, 
 When workmen all vote as they ought. 
 
 Eight hours will be given to work, 
 
 Twice more for rest, study and thought; 
 
 There'll be few illiterates to lurk, 
 
 When workmen all vote as they ought. 
 
 Intemperance and vice will decrease. 
 
 Or their effects will be turned into naught ; 
 
 Much of wickedness is expected to cease, 
 When workmen all vote as they ought. 
 
 The Eldorado of ages is near. 
 
 The millennium we long years have sought : 
 Equal justice to all, never fear, 
 
 When workmen all vote as they ought. 
 
POEMS OF POWER 91 
 
 CORN IS KING 
 
 Hail to the golden corn, 
 Whose stalks our fields adorn, 
 
 Hail it as king; 
 Plant it in fertile field, 
 No grain will richer yield. 
 Nor greater blessings wield, 
 
 Its praises sing. 
 
 Corn is the best of food, 
 For man and beast is good, 
 
 The nation's pride; 
 Let all the people know, 
 As seasons come and go. 
 How best this grain to grow 
 
 And health betide. 
 
 Sweet is the tassel-bloom. 
 Sweeter than rare perfume, 
 
 And richer still; 
 Soft are the yellow hair. 
 As they the pollen bear, 
 Down where the kernels are, 
 
 Life to instill. 
 
 Rich is the yellow grain. 
 Nurtured by dew and rain. 
 
 In summer time ; 
 Soon will the reapers come. 
 Singing the harvest song, 
 Joyous the harvest home. 
 
 In every clime. 
 
92 
 
 POEMS OF POWER 
 
 We praise our God who gave 
 This plant our land to save 
 
 From famine dire; 
 Let heartfelt thanks abound, 
 Let hills and vales resound, 
 Let all the plains rebound, 
 
 To God aspire. 
 
 A THING OF BEAUTY 
 
 "A thing of beauty is a joy forever," 
 
 So once a mighty poet wrote in rhyme, — 
 
 Let not my heart from things of beauty sever. 
 Nor let their lovely charms for me decline. 
 
 The wanderer from home may well remember, 
 "A thing of beauty is a joy forever," 
 
 If his return be in fair spring or in September, 
 Things beautiful entail his best endeavor. 
 
 The mind that seeks for mental growth can never 
 Lose the lessons taught by graces three, — 
 
 "A thing of beauty is a joy forever," 
 
 And charms the heart and sets the passions free. 
 
 Let age recall and let the youthful listen, 
 As I recount where beauty is a lever, 
 
 Let mankind with its sweet charms glisten, 
 "A thing of beauty is a joy forever." 
 
POEMS OF POWER 93 
 
 NAPOLEON'S TOMB 
 
 The tomb of Napoleon, this wonderful tomb, 
 
 Where lie the remains of the soldier and king ! 
 I paused at its side, I thought of his doom, 
 
 And pondered the honors that for aye to him cling! 
 These walls, finely decked with silver and gold. 
 
 With pearl and with marble enriched and adorned, 
 In their awful recesses fittingly hold 
 
 The ashes of him whom the nations have mourned. 
 
 My mind went to Corsica, where he as a boy 
 
 Learned gladly of men great in carnage and war, 
 But mastered few lessons that those would enjoy 
 
 Who tranquillity love and warfare abhor. 
 In mind, I saw him in Paris and France, 
 
 Where, tempted to suicide on the banks of the Seine, 
 He routed the mob with musket and lance, 
 
 And with keenest precision restored order again 
 
 I saw him in Italy, in command of the troops, — 
 
 With the tri-color, crossing the bridge at Lodi, — 
 And in Egypt, gaining ground with brave coups, — 
 
 Then conquering the Alps, grand, majestic and high ; 
 I saw him mingle the eagles of France 
 
 With the eagles of crags in historical Rome, 
 And grasping the issues at Ulm at a glance, 
 
 His legions with might resistless swept on. 
 
94 
 
 POEMS OF POWER 
 
 I saw him in Russia, invading the north, 
 
 But routed by snow and the cold winter-blast, 
 Then, at Leipsic defeated, and soon driven forth 
 
 And captured and banished to Elba at last ; 
 I saw him escape and from Elba return 
 
 And recapture the empire with genius great, 
 But Bliicher and Wellington, as fierce fires burn, 
 
 At Waterloo ended his fortunes of state. 
 
 In mind, I could see him in prison and chains 
 
 At far-off Saint Helena, dreary and sad, 
 Gazing o'er ocean, through swift falling rains. 
 
 And drooping the brow that with might once was 
 clad; 
 And I thought of the dutiful youth at life's start. 
 
 And the millions of soldiers whom proudly he led. 
 And the wife whom he coldly pushed from his heart. 
 
 And the tears that once for his glory were shed ! 
 
 It grieved me to think of the orphans he made, 
 
 And the widows who mourned because of his might, 
 And the young and the aged cut down by the blade 
 
 As he battled for power in w.rong and in right; 
 And firmly I vowed that I would rather have been 
 
 The most humble peasant in simple estate, 
 And lived in a hut, in valley or glen, 
 
 Than a wrecker of lives like Napoleon the Great ! 
 
POEMS OF POWER 
 
 95 
 
 THE FALLS OF THE NIAGARA 
 
 My soul is awed in me 
 
 As I look up to thee 
 And see the waters pouring o'er thy brink; 
 
 In silence here I stand, 
 
 Nor move a foot nor hand, 
 As of thy grandeur solemnly I think! 
 
 When the flight of years began, 
 
 No stream in thy course ran, 
 For all the region was a boundless sea ; 
 
 And as the land appeared, 
 
 And hills and vales were cleared 
 Of waters deep, thy place was marked for thee. 
 
 And thou wert not content 
 
 To leave thy course unbent. 
 Or pour thy waters ever at one place — 
 
 But broke the icy locks, 
 
 And cut away the rocks. 
 Thy brink with certain strides up-stream to trace. 
 
 Thy waters gently glide, 
 
 In vale, on mountain side. 
 As from the mists and silvery clouds they fall. 
 
 But wakened from their sleep. 
 
 As from thy rocks they leap, 
 O'er hills and woods peal forth a mighty call. 
 
C|6 POEMS OF POWER 
 
 Deep echoes unto deep 
 
 As swift thy waters leap 
 And glide adown the channel to the bay ; 
 
 A veil of mist is seen, 
 
 And as thy waters stream 
 They mark the flood of years in rock and clay. 
 
 Thy ever deafening roar 
 
 Causes the mind to soar 
 To Him who in a deluge plied the rod, 
 
 But in His sight thou art 
 
 A very meager part 
 And speak in simple tones of nature's God. 
 
But wakened from their sleep, 
 As from thy rocks they leap, 
 O'er hills and woods peal forth a mighty call, 
 
POEMS OF HUMOR 
 
 THE MOTHER-IN-LAW 
 
 A Mr. Whiskly 
 
 Prospered briskly 
 
 As a tavern keeper ; 
 
 He courted Mrs. Larry, 
 Proposed to her to marry — 
 
 'Twould make his living cheaper. 
 
 Now, Mrs. Larry 
 
 Was a fairy 
 
 And had great wealth in store; 
 He said he loved her, 
 She thought the smooth cur 
 
 Loved her great wealth much more. 
 
 But Mr. Whiskly 
 Spoke up briskly 
 In brave and certain tone: 
 
 "Give 'way your money 
 
 And be my honey 
 For I love you alone, alone." 
 97 
 
98 POEMS OF HUMOR 
 
 She gave her all, 
 
 Both great and small, 
 
 To her only daughter May ; 
 And sly Mr. Whiskly 
 Smiled bravely and briskly 
 
 And married the daughter that day. 
 
 Poor Mrs. Larry, 
 
 Though a fairy, 
 
 Said, 'T cannot this vile cur forgive," 
 
 But she made up her mind 
 
 That to kill was too kind 
 And so went with her daughter to live. 
 
POEMS OF HUMOR 99 
 
 JIMMIE OWEN 
 
 Say, do you know Jimmie Owen — 
 
 The good old soul that walked our street 
 
 For many years, and argued politics, 
 
 And law, and everything, when'er he'd meet 
 
 You at the postoffice and in the stores. 
 
 And always have the crowd a-bursting into roars? 
 Well, he's the lad we miss each live-long day 
 And grieve and sigh because he is away. 
 
 'Tis true he'd sleep out in the pottery works 
 At night, away from every human life. 
 
 And bake his bread, and cook his meals 
 
 Without the help of man, or maid or wife ; 
 
 But we have learned to know him to prize 
 
 The keenness of his gaze, his big and speckled eyes, 
 The company he has always been, 
 And long to have him walk our streets again. 
 
 Indeed, he seemed so natural on the street 
 
 With his long frock coat a-dangling on behind, 
 
 With wrinkles gathering on his bearded face, 
 His shoes unloosed and generally unshined ; 
 
 Or while standing on the street car track 
 
 With his hands clasped firmly on his back 
 
 Talking 'bout his friends, Dolliver and Blaine, 
 And wondering if Pat would "get there" again. 
 
2100 POEMS OF HUMOR 
 
 The boys would come from school and smile 
 And listen to the stories that he told 
 
 With so much earnestness and zeal 
 
 That they never, never v^^ould grow old ; 
 
 And the school girls would loiter on the way 
 
 A-listening to the witty things that he would say; 
 But now all seem so lonesome and forlorn 
 And grieve to think that Jimmie Owen's gone. 
 
 They say he's down below the Mason-Dixie line, 
 Far from the scenes around the grocery store, 
 
 Where we used to pin the tags upon his coat 
 
 And laugh and yell 'till our very sides were sore ; 
 
 But, as we ponder o'er the bygone years. 
 
 There 'comes a mingling of smiles and tears — 
 We smile for pleasures we have known 
 And sadly weep that Jimmie Owen's gone. 
 
And laugh and yell 'till our vciy sides were sore. 
 
POEMS OF HUMOR lOI 
 
 THE SPRINGTIME POET 
 
 When the sun soars high and higher, and the spring 
 
 is near at hand, 
 And the frost is disappearing to leave mud instead of 
 
 land; 
 When the poet writes of daisies, and the bard sings of 
 
 the sky, 
 It is then we wonder whether we would rather live 
 
 or die. 
 
 We can bear the chills of winter even in our cotton 
 
 socks, 
 We can brave the cold that pinches far into the heart 
 
 of rocks, 
 We can have our girl forsake us to court others bad 
 
 or worse, 
 But we draw a line on poets when they treat of spring 
 
 in verse. 
 
 If they'd only tell of roosters that go strutting on the 
 
 fence, 
 Or of boys that put off dresses and begin to wear 
 
 short pants. 
 Or of sprightly cats a-wailing in the barn of Uncle 
 
 Ben, 
 We could overlook their weakness and take lease on 
 
 life again. 
 
102 POEMS OF HUMOR 
 
 If they'd be content to prattle of the grasses creeping 
 
 up, 
 Or the tin cans safely dangling from the tail of last 
 
 year's pup, 
 Or of sunshine being warmer than it was in winter 
 
 time, 
 It would be a burden lifted, it would save from 
 
 thoughts of crime. 
 
 We are prone to shoulder burdens and to venture 
 
 powerful things, 
 And to risk great undertakings where the mighty take 
 
 to wings ; 
 We can brave the stormy weather, both in business and 
 
 in life, 
 But we flee from springtime poets when their vernal 
 
 songs are rife. 
 
 JUDGE AND THE EDITOR 
 
 A judge slept in an editor's bed 
 With neither a sob or a sigh; 
 
 As he awoke it passed through his head 
 That editors most easily lie. 
 
 And as he related this story next day. 
 For of stories he never would tire ; 
 
 The editor smiled and calmly did say 
 That in this case the judge was the Her. 
 
POEMS OF HUMOR 103 
 
 THE IRISH 
 
 Come all ye sons of Erin's shore, 
 
 All ye that want position, 
 Come listen to the song I sing 
 
 From story and tradition; 
 Come from the Shannon and the Foyle, 
 
 From lands high, low or mirish, 
 And harken while I tell you that 
 
 They're giving great things to the Irish. 
 
 Chorus 
 
 Matt Reilly is an alderman, 
 
 McNerney is another, 
 Pat Menton represents his ward — 
 
 He's trusty as a brother ; 
 O'Connell works the streets, heigh oh. 
 
 And Paton sweeps the hall, you know ! 
 
 Let all the wearers of the green 
 
 Stand hand in hand together, 
 With those who would prefer the orange, 
 
 In fair and cloudy weather; 
 United, we'll control the town. 
 
 We'll grade streets low and mirish. 
 We'll change it to a Donnybrook 
 
 And make it a home for the Irish. 
 
104 POEMS OF HUMOR 
 
 On Emerald Isle we taught John Bull 
 
 Many a wholesome lesson, 
 We left him sorely in need of police 
 
 And kept his leaders a guessing 
 How they'd meet the issue of Home Rule 
 
 In discussions long and firish, 
 Until they were forced to admit 
 
 The demand is just to the Irish. 
 
 We've been true to our American home 
 
 And fought on fields dark and gory, 
 We've stood by the flag in every fight 
 
 And carried it proudly to glory; 
 Such valorous deeds have greatly inspired 
 
 In lands high, low and mirish 
 That nations have been forced to admit 
 
 They should give just dues to the Irish. 
 
 BLIND TEACHER 
 
 When first my Johnnie went to school 
 To learn the Rule of Three; 
 
 (For this is the good old-time rule 
 Taught both to you and me) 
 
 He said "My teacher's really kind, 
 
 But she is absolutely blind." 
 
 "Why, Jack," said I, *'this cannot be, 
 I know your teacher well;'* 
 
 But he replied, "She cannot see, 
 The reason I will tell — 
 
 Today my hat was on my head. 
 
 She twice asked where it was," he said. 
 
POEMS OF HUMOR 105 
 
 THOMPSON VERSUS THOMPSON 
 
 Twixt Thompson, the printer, and Thompson, the sage, 
 There arose a dispute long and daring: 
 
 One at the other would scoffingly rage, 
 Each one for himself declaring 
 
 That he most serves the nation. 
 
 In his vastly superior station. 
 
 Quoth Thompson, the printer, "My case is like this," 
 
 His cyclopic eye greatly distending ; 
 "The items I write are rarely amiss, 
 
 Though sometimes the truth they're bending, 
 And I give lengthy narrations. 
 Weekly, of myself and all my relations." 
 
 Replied Thompson, the sage, "All this palaver may do 
 To please Thompson, the printer, but I am aware 
 
 That those who dislike fruit are quite few 
 And in my philosophy I take a care 
 
 To treat of greens in season, 
 
 And for failure of fruit crops give reason. 
 
I06 POEMS OF HUMOR 
 
 Quoth Thompson, the printer, "Away with your greens. 
 And away with your fruit sour and wormy ; 
 
 I disHke both your garden sass and your beans, 
 As neither is wholesome for me. 
 
 My printer's pen cannot be lowered. 
 
 But 'twill wax mightier e'en than the sword." 
 
 Replied Thompson, the sage, "Your items are stale, 
 
 And to read your lines I must labor, 
 And your columns are as a discordant tale. 
 
 And you gossip too much 'bout your neighbor ; 
 All said, I am sure I'll reason of berries. 
 And philosophize of apples, peaches and cherries." 
 
 Twixt Thompson, the printer, and Thompson, the sage, 
 (The two are the same identical person). 
 
 This extended dispute none can safely assuage. 
 As long as quarrels each one is nursing; 
 
 So let them dispute 'bout printing and greens. 
 
 And berries and fruits and cadaveric beans. 
 
POEMS OF HUMOR 107 
 
 THE DAYS OF PATRICK BRADY 
 
 When was the golden time in Boone, 
 In which youths shunned the beer saloon, 
 And all was bright as night in June? — 
 In the days of Patrick Brady. 
 
 When did policemen shovel snow, — 
 So all could over crossings go, — 
 Not merely wore their stars for show ? — 
 In the days of Patrick Brady. 
 
 When did the chief not talk too much, 
 'Bout this and that, and such and such, 
 And how he'd like to catch and scutch? — 
 In the days of Patrick Brady. 
 
 When were the wayward brought to time. 
 The lawless caught or kept in line. 
 And the curfew warned before nine? — 
 In the days of Patrick Brady. 
 
 Who was it jumped upon his feet, 
 When Hornstein took the mayor's seat. 
 Or whistled out on Story street? — 
 Sure it was Patrick Brady. 
 
 Suppose we'd be without police. 
 Or have **a time" to keep the peace, 
 And lawlessness would fail to cease ? — 
 We'd think of Patrick Brady. 
 
I08 POEMS OF HUMOR 
 
 And what if none would want the place, 
 (Though such may never be the case), 
 We'd hasten off with rapid pace — 
 To call on Patrick Brady. 
 
 Would he consent to serve once more 
 As he did in the days of yore? — 
 Does he not hail from Erin's shore, 
 This kind friend, Patrick Brady? 
 
 PAT O'CONNOR IN COURT 
 
 When Pat O'Connor, the Irish lad, 
 His friend, Mahoney, bested, 
 
 With assault was promptly charged. 
 And promptly was arrested. 
 
 When in the court the judge inquired 
 
 If a trial he wanted, 
 Pat replied "Shure I'm contint. 
 
 And for no thrial I've hunted." 
 
 "Are you guilty?" said the judge, 
 "And what is your defense?" 
 
 Pat answered quick, "I cannot tell, 
 Until I hear the evidence." 
 
POEMS OF HUMOR 109 
 
 THE POLITICIAN'S SOLILOQUY 
 
 I'll admit it's true, I have a growing taste for office, 
 
 My friend, thou knowest well my latest wish, 
 
 My fondest hope, my great desire 
 
 Once more to wear the senatorial toga. 
 
 Long years ago, 'twas in the early '6o's, 
 
 I grew my maiden taste for public office. 
 
 And shadows, clouds and d'arkness flitted over me 
 
 Until I secured a country postoffice, 
 
 Which I did hold for ten long years. 
 
 Alas, this first ambition was the fanning of a flame 
 
 That since has overwhelmed me as an avalanche ; 
 
 Instead of satisfying appetite for publicity, 
 
 It did enkindle longings for more renown, 
 
 Until now I cannot be appeased. 
 
 Have I not been the guardian of the township's cash, 
 
 And of the school funds several times ; 
 
 Did I not on the common council serve. 
 
 And of the school board be the president? 
 
 These and many more, far too numerous here to 
 
 mention. 
 Were but the comsummation of my settled purpose 
 To have my name engraven everywhere. 
 
 In the '70's I had designs upon the law. 
 Designs to write them, or at least to see them made. 
 And I did all others defeat in the election. 
 To serve as member of the house. 
 
no POEMS OF HUMOR 
 
 It was a joyous moment of supreme delight, 
 
 When first I did within the state house take my seat, 
 
 Amid the stalwarts of the commonwealth. 
 
 But, alas, a something did me overcome, 
 
 A longing for the senate chamber and a foreign 
 
 mission, 
 Of which the former I did get, indeed, 
 And barely missed my aim upon the latter. 
 
 Tis true Fve farmed the farmers to my taste. 
 And hoarded wealth and fortune without measure. 
 But, to admit the truth, I make claim on greater things. 
 Already I am named a member of many boards, 
 And on committees great and small, but I want the 
 
 senatorial seat, 
 Perhaps the governorship, or the robes of a congress- 
 man, 
 And a foreign ministry to Europe. 
 
 Let my countrymen stand aside for me, 
 
 Let them abide so I can get my fill ; 
 
 Such is required by the eternal fitness of things. 
 
 So my ambition may be gratified 
 
 And I shall tower in the annals of the state. 
 
 True, I have never made an argument or speech 
 
 That men have listened to and talked about, 
 
 But I have written speeches, or have had them v/ritten, 
 
 And I have read them to conventions 
 
 Of men who thought me great. 
 
 Yes, great enough to fill great places. 
 
 And now I smile secure in my existence. 
 
 And await the wreathes prepared to fit my brow. 
 
POEMS OF HUMOR m 
 
 MACHINE PARTY PLEDGES 
 
 We pledge ourselves through thick and thin, 
 With all our power and zeal devout, 
 
 To labor that our friends shall win. 
 And that all others be kept out. 
 
 We pledge to seek for place and pelf, 
 To get the bulk of public money, 
 
 And make the profit one of self, 
 
 Though idle drones take all the honey. 
 
 We pledge ourselves to no reform. 
 Nor offer means of ruling ill ; 
 
 What matters how the people storm, 
 So long as we can get our fill? 
 
 We pledge to give at public cost, 
 
 Reward to those that furnish votes. 
 
 And care not how the mob is bossed 
 Or how our heelers turn their coats. 
 
 We pledge whenever right and might 
 
 On any vital point divide, 
 We'll keep our personal gain in sight, 
 
 And choose at once the strongest side. 
 
 We pledge as part of our creed, 
 That laws, and all of legislation, 
 
 Be planned to meet monopoly's need, 
 Both in the state and in the nation. 
 
112 POEMS OF HUMOR 
 
 We pledge that tillers of the soil 
 
 Shall have no friends where friends are needed, 
 And that the wants of those who toil 
 
 Shall be heard but never heeded. 
 
 Such are the pledges we propose, 
 
 In secret to our medley crowd ; 
 There're many ways of buying those 
 
 Who listen to pretentions loud. 
 
 So here's the motto we'll maintain. 
 And offer now for contemplation; 
 
 "We'll strive alone for selfish gain ; 
 
 We'll buy the state and rule the nation." 
 
 'W 
 
INDEX BY TITLES 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Abiding Friendship ii 
 
 A Lovely Dream 21 
 
 At Father's Grave 88 
 
 A Thing of Beauty . 92 
 
 Away, Av^ay 59 
 
 A Wish 41 
 
 Belshazzar the King 69 
 
 Blind Teacher 104 
 
 Corn is King 91 
 
 CoRREGGio's The Holy Night ........ 61 
 
 Destiny .34 
 
 Devotion 55 
 
 Do You Doubt 49 
 
 Evening Wish 32 
 
 Friends 9 
 
 Gemorrah 66 
 
 God and Nature 60 
 
 Good Night . 15 
 
 Hector and Andromache 50 
 
 Happy Who a Heart Has Found 51 
 
 Hope 23 
 
 Hope and Trust 62 
 
 Ingersoll's Funeral Oration 79 
 
 JiMMiE Owen 99 
 
 Judge and the Editor 102 
 
 Kate Shelley, The Heroine 75 
 
 113 
 
114 INDEX BY TITLES 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Land Beyond the Sky 63 
 
 Leave the Bitter in the Cup 36 
 
 Life 19 
 
 Life's Lesson 29 
 
 Life's Meaning 26 
 
 Lincoln at Gettysburg 83 
 
 Longing 35 
 
 Luck is Like a Sunbeam 33 
 
 Machine Party Pledges iii 
 
 My Bungalow 40 
 
 My Love is Like a Blossom 48 
 
 Napoleon's Tomb 93 
 
 Nightfall 85 
 
 Passing of Life 30 
 
 Passion in Friendship 16 
 
 Pat O'Connor in Court 108 
 
 Power of Love 57 
 
 Press On 22 
 
 Rose of the Meadow 56 
 
 She is Sleeping so Sweetly 14 
 
 Sing, O My Soul 64 
 
 Something 24 
 
 Sometime 28 
 
 Song of Love 45 
 
 Success 78 
 
 Sweet Contentment 43 
 
 Sweet Scenes of the Old Home 42 
 
 The Beatitudes 67 
 
 The Broken Heart 52 
 
 The Days of Patrick Brady 107 
 
 The Des Moines 39 
 
 The Falls of the Niagara 95 
 
 The Hour Grew Late 8 
 
 The Irish 103 
 
 The Last Farewell 2!j 
 
 The Linden Tree 37 
 
 The Mother-in-Law 97 
 
INDEX BY TITLES 115 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The Politician's Soliloquy 109 
 
 The Springtime Poet loi 
 
 The Teacher-Girl 86 
 
 The Wandering Jew 72 
 
 Those Chiming Bells 25 
 
 Thou Art so Fair 53 
 
 To Nature 20 
 
 Thompson versus Thompson 105 
 
 Twenty-third Psalm 65 
 
 Value of Friends 7 
 
 Verses to a Rose 12 
 
 We Ought to Store a Treasure 13 
 
 What the Flowers Said 46 
 
 When I am Dead 10 
 
 When Shall I Meet You Again 17 
 
 When Workmen All Vote as They Ought ... 89 
 
 Which Way 30 
 
 Wreck of the Titanic 81 
 
 Youthful Fancy 47 
 
 You Think of Me so Seldom 54 
 
JAN 11 MB