I LIBRARY OF CONGRESS.? tp^n? |oF>inghifo t $ — '■ ^UNITED STATES OP AMERICA. | n%o5.c'- POEMS WITH ADDITIONAL PROSE, MARY S. FACKRELL ( OF C^ .PYF\1«H1 \<^^^ \) xVEW YORK: POOLE & MACLAUCHLAN, PRINTERS, 205-213 East T'.i'el/th Street. 1872. 7^ Entered according to Act of Contcress, in the year 1872, by MARY S. FACKRELL, In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. JDtbicatioii. DAUGHTERS SARAH AND AGNES, WHO HAVE CONTRIBUTED TO MY HAPPINESS AND PROSPERITY THROUGH A PERIOD OF YEARS, This book is niost respectfully dedicated AS A TOKEN OF GRATITUDE AND AFFECTION FOND MOTHER. PREFACE. In exposing this little work to the criticising eye of the public, without the knowledge that it will meet the sym- pathy of friends or neglect of strangers, it is with no little diffidence that I attempt the task, with no apology save the urgent request of my children. I therefore venture to throw It into the great ocean of literature, that it may sink or swim, according to its own merits, abiding by the decision of the ever-ruling power, " Public Opinion." Many of the productions were written in early life, and are not characterized by the maturer tliought apparent in those of a later period ; some of which were published in the "Advance," edited by J. W. Hopkins, of Ogdens- burg, N. Y., — the prose pieces over the signature "Sea- weed." The "Advance" was published during the Re- bellion, which accounts in a measure for the patriotic sentiment so prominent, and running almost in a direct line through the whole collection bearing that date. Should this work answer no other purpose, it has been a source of employment and gratification not only amidst VI PREFACE. the duties and cares of life, but in deepest sorrow has sometimes turned the channel of thought, and occupied the mind which might otherwise have been given a prey to melancholy. The contents of the book have been called forth from time to time, during a busy life, as opportunity would suggest ; and, whatever be the verdict of a discriminating press, we feel assured they have at least the merit of advocating principles that are strictly in accordance with moral law and sacred truth. MARY S. FACKRELL. Ogdensburg. CONTENTS. POETRY. PAGB Up and Doing i " Each Cloud has a Silver Lining " 2 On ! the Band is Marching 3 Children's Wishes 4 Sabbath Bells 7 Lines on the Death of Mrs. P. A Request g The Crystal Engine. A Prize Poem 10 Good-Night, Mamma II Lines inscribed to Mr. and Mrs. P., of Brier Hill 13 Little Freddie 14 To Mrs. S. H. Rice. By Request 16 ' ' Onward " 17 "The Fool hath said in his Heart, There is no God." 19 A Child at Prayer 21 An Impromptu Tribute to the Memory of Robert McDowell, Esq. 23 Nebraska. 25 A Morning in June 27 The Emigrant 29 National Hymn 31 Be Firm f 33 Stand by your Country 34 Flag Raising 36 Tribute to Col. Ellsworth 37 National Song 39 Our Country 40 Lines on the Death of Charles Backus 42 Men of the Hour 43 Stand by your Colors^ 44 Is there Hope for the Slave ? 46 Vlll CONTENTS. PAGE Epitaph for Nellie O. Aged 3 years 48 Where are they ? 48 The Laugh of a Child 49 Written for the " Sabbath School Trumpet " 50 Softly she Faded 51 Minstrel's Good Night 52 Lines for Music. Respectfully inscribed to H. S. P 53 The Grave of an Infant 54 The Skater's Song 55 Song 56 An Address to the Philomathean Society of P 57 Lines on the Death of John A. Fulton 59 Home of Childhood 60 Victory 62 The Empire of Memory 63 Despair 64 Frances 65 Song — Come, Sign the Pledge 66 Silas Wright. Volunteer Toast 68 Woman's Rights 69 P"riendship. To Jane 73 The Light on the Water 74 Epitaphs 76 To a Friend's Family 79 Music 79 Tears 80 Song of the " Total Abstinence Man " 81 To the Winds 82 Tribute to the Memory of Miss Margaret McDowell 84 To the Evening ^ar 87 The United Republic 89 Temptation 90 Light through the Storm 90 My Wild Vine Bower 91 Reminiscences 92 J. L. Joice 93 The South Wind 94 A Mother's Love 95 To Margaret P 97 CONTENTS. IX FAOE To War 9^ Aggie to Sarah 98 The Twin Sifters 99 Refleclions at a Grave 100 To Mrs. S IC2 To Sarah 103 To Rev. L. A. W 104 Thoughts on Childhood 105 Parody on " Kingdom Conii 1' " 107 Will you go to tlie Fair ? io3 An Acrostic i > o Ode to the Moon no The New-Year 113 Farewell to Sunniier 115 To Agnes ii(> Childhood for Sarah S n 7 To Mrs. M. E. H 1 13 " That Land," by J. L. Joice 120 PROSE. Mind 122 An Incident in Every-day Life 125 Music. An Essay 131 Scraps from a Note-Book 135 Keep the Heart Riglit 138 The Contrast 141 Speak a kind Word when you can 144 The Fourth of July I45 Shall we Falter ? I47 Scraps from a Note- Book 149 Love. Purity, raid Fidelity 152 Home , 153 Americn 157 Clouds.. 159 Rain 1 60 The Utility of Decoration 161 A Sketch 162 POEMS "Up ayxb Doing," "Up and doing," never weary, Be thy motto on through Hfe ; Though the path be dark and dreary, Fear not, faint not, 'mid the strife. Doubt not, wait not ; while ye tarry Other hands the prize may gain ; From the well-known path ne'er vary, Lest ye seek the goal in vain. Time and tide ne'er wait for idlers ; What thou doest, do it well — ■ Leave thy mark — upon time's record- Let thy deeds the future tell. In the cause of right — pursue it, And truth's sacred banner guard — Duty learn, then dare and do it ; In thy breast is thy reward. POEMS. Though the present ne'er requite you, Though ye reap not from the soil, Though Ufe's waves dash wildly round you, Nobler, braver is thy toil ! Though earth's prospects all are blighted, Though with grief the heart be cold, Way-worn, weary, and benighted, Seeking rest without the fold, — Look not back, nor sigh in sadness For the joys whose light is fled, Golden promises of gladness Which perchance now too, are dead. " Up and doing," on and ever ; Hope shall waft thee o'er the ^ide ; Faith's pure light will beam forever ; Trust, and gain the other side ! -:o:- *'(iat\) CHloiilt l)as a 5Uiicr Ciiung." I PAUSED as those words gently fell on my ear. So full of bright promise to strengthen and cheer, For a dark cloud of sorrow hung over my sky, And each thought which had birth was the home of a sigh. How oft as I've gazed for some star midst the gloom, Or some spot in the waste where hope's flow'rets might bloom. rOKMS. Has the star in the distance sent forth a cold beam. And echo repeated, Life's but a sad dream ! Oft, cheerless and lone, I have murmur'd to tread Life's path, dark beneath me, and darker o'erhead ; But a tinge on the cloud sent a thrill to my breast — For I knew it was gemmed with a beautiful crest ! A ray of glad sunshine had broken the spell, Dispersing the shade o'er my pathway which fell ; Its warm, genial influence had parted the cloud, And I saw it was lined with a silvery shroud ! (Dili tl)c Banli is ilTarcl)mg. Oh ! the day has come at last When the glorious news is heard, And the Band is marching many thousand strong. And we grasp each other's hand. Though we utter scarce a word. As the swelling tide triumphant rolls along. Chorus — On, on, on, the Band is marching. Like an army, strong and free, And they dash away the wine, Give the "Pledge" a countersign. And they stand beneath the Temperance banner free. pof:ms. Oh ! the feeblest heart grew strong, And the most despondent sure, When we signed the glorious pledge we love so well, And we knew that want and woe. We no longer should endure, When the strength of freemen burst our prison cell. Chorus. Now the war with rum is o'er. And the vict'ry gained at last, And the cause we love and cherish too is won ; All the wrong we must regret. But the past we will forget, While the noble Temperance army marches on. ^ Chorus. Harry. — I wish to be a sailor bold Upon the broad blue sea ; I love to roam o'er its sparkhng foam, Its waves so wild and free ; I love to sleep on the boundless deep. Rocked by the restless tide ; And spread the sail to the sweeping gale In all a sailor's pride. Emma. — I wish to be a milliner. And sport the latest style. For out of fashion, in the world. POEMS. Is only " durance vile." I would arrange the colors well, The modes with taste and skill, And make the homely or the fair More lovely at my will. Frank. — I wish to be a soldier biave, I love the fife and drum ; I'll go where duty, honor calls, Whatever foe may come. The patriot hero's grave be mine When life's last spark is fled. And wreaths of ever-living fame . Adorn my brow when dead. Rose. — I'd like to be a pretty flower. And pearls of dew-drops wear, With brightest hues to deck the bower Or scent the summer air ; I'd greet the weary passer-by With bright and blooming smile Adorn the head of innocence. Or charm the happy child. Horace. — I wish to be a printer just, And tell the world the news. To hold up all that's good and great, And kno\^edge wide diff"use. I'll advocate the cause of right. Nor stoop to any bribe, And will free speech and press defend, Whatever may betide. Lydia. — I wish to be a poetess, 6 POKMS. For I am fond of rhyme ; But mine shall be true sentiment, Poetic, grand, sublime ; I'll gayly paint the beautiful, And draw from nature's store ; To win and wear an author's name, This gained, I'll ask no more. George. — I wish to be a " President," With rule o'er land and sea ; Our " Flag" should wave o'er ev'ry slave Proclaiming "Liberty!" No traitor vile, with wily smile. Should any office hold, Who'd spread a curse to fill his purse. Or sell his soul for gold. Mary. — And I would be a woman true, To live and love for all. To dry the tear from sorrow's eye When hope and pleasure pall ; Would seek to elevate the race. And bow at virtue's shrine ; To cheer, to bless, death's pillow smooth, Such hope, such love be mine. Mother. — I've listened to your ev'ry wish With pleasure, pride, and hope ; An upright part, ambition high. Deserve a free, full scope ; But human life is stamped with change. Though all seems passing fair ; Your highest good — -a sinless heart — Should be your chiefest care. April ^, 1862. rOEMS. Sabbati) Bella. Hark, the bells of Sabbath morning — Messengers of hope and rest — Floatuig on the gentle breezes. Speaking peace to every breast. Sabbath Bells, your hallowed cliiming Softly strikes a tender chord, Waking fond and golden memories, Treasures, in the bosom stored. Memories of happy childhood, Of the old familiar hearth. Of the School-house, Church and Grave-yard, All the dearest spots of earth. Still the bells of Sabbath morning Clearly ring a cheerful peal, Telling still as true and sweetly, " Heaven can every sorrow heal." Still the Sabbath bells are ringing, Pointing to the " House of Prayer," While the calls of love and mercy Bid us seek an entrance there. P'rom the humble, lowly dwelling, From the homes of wealth and pride, Forth they come with mingled footsteps, And they worship side by side. POEMS. Free from earth-born care and sorrow, Here the soul is killed to rest, While a calm and holy sunshine Settles down in every breast. These are precious, golden moments, To the weary, way-worn given, While they catch the songs of angels, While they dream of rest in Heaven. Sabbath Bells ! cease not your chiming Till your tones are heard afar, Till the heathen, now in darkness, Hail the bright, the " Morning Star." Let your sweet and joyful music Swell the theme — a Saviour's love — Till all nations join in worship, A triumphant Church above. POEMS. Cines on tl)c JDcatl) of llTve. |3. A REQUEST. Thou art gone from our circle, dear mother Thy place in the home and the heart Can never be filled by another ; Ah ! sad is the thought — we must part. Round the fire-side, so silent and lonely, We miss thee — our truest, best friend ; But the wealth of affection can only More deeply the stricken heart rend. Yet oft, in the silence of even, We fancy thy voice we can hear In a message of love — yes, 'tis giv'n The grief-stricken mourner to cheer. Fond mother — thy name will we cherish — A star that is radiant and true. Till life and its day-dreams shall perish — Till we sigh our last fond adieu. We will trust, with the pure and the holy, Thou wilt join the angehc strain ; Thy sky all undimmed by earth's shadows, Our loss be thine infinite gain, lO POEMS. ®l)e (HvMstal Engine. A PRIZE POEM. Mysterious structure of mechanic art, That of invention's wonders forms a part; The noble, giant powers of the mind Are lavished here, perfected and refined. A beautiful display of human skill, Type of man's strength, his genius and his will; The power of intellect, with steam combined. Has caused the world to wonder — blest mankind. And here, a Crystal Engine greets the eye, With all the hues reflected from the sky ; And while in mute astonishment we gaze, In harmony a bubbling Fountain plays. Though perfect each, Hke starry gems they seem, So brilliant, pure, or do we only dream Of fairy lands, of lovely birds and flowers That sing and bloom amid the crystal bowers ? But here the mighty Engine's power we test ; The fire, steam, boiler, crystal and the rest, That form one ])erfect whole of strength and skill. Are seen and felt, subservient to man's will. POEMS. The wealth of intellect, his power and pride, Diffusing light and knowledge far and wide, Points "upward, onward" till the lightnings' gleam Bow^ acquiescent to "the age of steam." (5ooL)-uigl)t, ilTnmina. " Good-night, mamma," those simple words, To any save a mother's ear. May have no music in their tone, No meaning, treasured, dear. And yet they thrill the mother's heart — That purest fount of earthly love Unmingled with earth's sordid hopes, 'Tis sure allied to that above. " Good-night, mamma," those accents sweet Call angel-watches through night's shade ; Ah, ne'er again may that young heart Confide and never be betrayed. " Good-night, mamma," 'tis softly said. And then the little eyelids close ; Upon its pillow rests the head In childhood's deep and sweet repose. The gentle breathing, soft and low, How like the fragrant zephyr's sigh ; The smile, the bloom upon the cheek. All, all seem borrowed from the sky. 12 POEMS. Above the head a thiy hand Lies heedless of its cherished toys. Now scattered and neglected strewn, Significant of life's brief joys. Oh ! peaceful rest — Oh ! happy hour In childhood's fair and sunny day ; To blight thy hopes — earth has no power — No charm to steal thy bliss away ! Deep in the fond maternal heart That dulcet voice — that sweet good-night, Is murm'ring like some spirit-har]^) Whose notes are borne from realms of light. Good-night, dear little trusting one, A mother's fond good-night to thee. With this warm prayer — that Heaven may grant Each good, and from each evil free. And when the last good-night is said. May angels greet thy happy morn, To crown with living wreaths thy head — With robes of beauty to adorn. POEMS. 13 Cincs TiiBcvibtti to flTr. aniJ illrs. ])., of Brier C^ill. There's grief in the little circle — A blank in the bousehold band, For the dove so fondly cherished Has flown to the spirit land. From their bright home the angels Beheld the beauteous flower, And came to bear it gently Away to a fadeless bower. With joy they heard the message That called the dove to rest, Ere earth-born cares and sorrows Had pierced its tender breast. Their sweet and winning music Soon charmed the artless child ; He heard their light wings flutter, And eagerly he smiled. Then away on shining pinions, In robes of purest white. The angels bore, to heaven The infant cherub bright. Though stricken ones are weeping The fall of the early flower. With hopes that twined so fondly Around affection's bower — 14 POEjMS. The Hand that gave such beauty, And lent the. spirit's ray, Formed them lo bloom for ever, Though earth shall pass away ; Then waking from death's slumber With crowns and harps of gold, Will shine the infant number, Within the Saviour's fold. CittU IxtWit. [Aa occurrence when the little " Wide-Awakes " were marching, before tie Kleclion of President Lincoln.] "I AM tired, sleepy, mother, Take me, take me on your lap — Put away my -cloak and banner — And my pretty soldier's cap. "When I talked with httle Bennie, What it was that shook me so, Oh, I cannot tell you, mother, But I hadn't strength to go. "When they said 'Hurra for Lincoln,' Something filled my throat like chaff, But I tried to speak the louder — Abe '11 make the darkies laugh. POEMS. 15 " Charlie Bennett saw me shaking ; First he wondered, then he said, * Are you cold ? what ails you, Freddie ? Do go home and go to bed.' "And I came to you, dear modier, So that Freddie's head could rest :" And the mother pressed him fondly To her gentle, loving breast. But his pulses wildly beating And his throbbing, burning brow Tell a tale of fearful meaning— Who shall stay Death's angel now ? " Mother, how my head is aching ; Is there anybody near ? " Then he nestled closer to her, Shrinking with some sudden fear. But the mother's gentle soothing CalmecVher loved one till he slept, When a smile, sweet as an angel's, O'er her darling's features crept. Hours she watched him slumb'ring sweetly, And a tear would dim her eye, But she never thought of parting With her little cherub boy. For the love that twined around him Of her being seemed a part — Oh, how strong the ties that bound him To that tender mother's heart ! 1 6 roEMS. But he woke and gazed so fondly In her earnest, anxious eye, " Where was I, — Oh, mother, tell me, Was it far up in the sky ? " Did you hear the angels singing? Oh, how sweet — how sweet — but see, Now a golden harp they're bringing. And they said it was for me. "And they said they'd come and take me To their pretty shining home — Hear them, Mother ! don't you hear them ! Now they whisper, ' Freddie, come.' " ®o mv3. %. % llicc. BY REQUEST. Silent and sad as ye bend o'er the tomb, » Where a loved one to earth is consigned ; Weep not as ye think of your child's early doom, For the spirit no fetters can bind. Though oft-times affection may prompt thee to trace Those features to mem'ry so dear ; But the language unspoken that beamed on that face — The look and the smile that were there. Are all gone. No charm can now light up the eye — No endearing caress may call forth POEMS. 17 The bright, sunny smile of innocent joy, The young heart's childish prattle and mirth. 'Twas the soul that enshrined in the fabric of clay Shone out in its loveliest light, To gladden thy heart, to cheer o'er life's way, Like a star all radiant and bright. But the spirit has flown — in a happier clime A wreath doth encircle her brow ; Beyond all the cares and the sorrows of time, She is singing with angels now. Oh ! then, would ye see her, seek that abode Where no ties of affection are riven. Where sorrows and heart-aches of earth never cloud The bliss of the dear ones in Heav'n. " (fi)nu)arb." [Written for The Advance.] " Onward, still onward," nor swerve from the right ; The eagle, still soaring, droops not in his flight, But plumes his proud wings as he speeds toward the sun, Bold, fearless, yet true — till the conquest is won. Ever thus, in the contest of strife with mankind, New York's noble motto, " Excelsior," bind On thy brow — in thy heart, looking upward the while, " A talisman sure is a breast free from guile.' 1 8 POEMS. Trusting, set thy mark high on the circle of time, Approaching the great, the good, the subHme ; The nearer the fountain true wisdom's obtained; More efiulgent the hght when the summit is gained. Though pure be tiiy motive — hke mists on the deep The shadows of envy may silently creep Roimd thy path — yet be just to thyself, to mankind. True greatness of soul — the wealth of the mind Co-extensive with light, ever " onward " shall soar When the rev'rie of life and its day-dreams are o'er ; Like a halo of glory, shall circle thy head Where the skies are all fair and earth's shadows have fled. Should the waves of adversity angrily sweep The hopes that have ventured thy bark on the deep. Keep the pole-star in view as ye drift on the tide — . Stand firm at the helm till the wild waves subside. Bravely breasting the storm, hast'ning "onward" — at last Bright skies smile above thee — the tempest is past. And the sweet silver stars, looking down on the scene, Gild hfe's evening calm with a beauty serene. And when thou art nearing the fair, sinless shore. And hast heard the last plash of hfe's weary oar. Faith points thee still " onward," Hope whispers for thee, There's a haven of rest — the tired spirit is free. Ogdensburgh, March, 1861. POEMS. 1 9 " €l)c iTool l)atl) sailt in l)is l)cavt, (J:l)crc is no ^Ol»." PSALMS. ^ Are there any who gaze on the beautiful sky — On the stars that are glowing so silently there, And planets that move, in their orbits on high. Through the measureless depths of the still azure air, And see not the Author, the First Cause, of all This wondrous Creation, so boundless and vast — An Omnipotent Pow'r to arrange and control. While the ages of Time in their courses shall last? Ah, no ! mortal man must acknowledge thy reign, Thou great King Eternal — thou Ruler Supreme ; 'Tis Thy will to create, Thy pow'r to ordain, To direct the sun's ray and the moon's paler beam. The -earth is thy footstool, the heaven thy throne — Exalted in majesty, power and might ; Truth, justice and righteousness blend in the zone That encircles thy palace of glory and light ; Yet the heaven of heavens can never contain Th' omniscient, omnipresent, omnipotent Lord ; Thy works do acknowledge thine eternal reign, Self-existent, immortal, invisible Word. 'Twas thy promise that gave to the rainbow its hue : The seasons return and the earth yields her store ; The pure flake of snow, the rain and the dew Affirm that thy word shall forever endure. 20 POEMS. Thou art heard in the storm and the dread thunder's crash — Thou art seen in the cloud and the swift lightning's gleam — In the dppths of old ocean — the wild surges' lash — And heard in the murmur of each gentle stream. Thou art seen through all nature abroad the green earth : In the meadow and woodland, the vale and the hill, On the snow-crested mountain, in desert and heath, In the cataract's foam, in the torrent and rill. Thy wisdom shines forth in the beautiful flower, Surpassing in loveliness, fragrance and bloom, Bright emblem of purity, vestige of power, And type of the beauty that wakes from the tomb. Nor only through nature inanimate seen. But seen in the Christian through all his bright way, In sorrow or joy — on whose arm he may lean, His guide and his hope, his staff and his stay. Though enthroned in the heavens, a temple on earth In the heart of the lowly — the humble, is thine ; Thus all that is great, good, and lovely hath birth — Thus flow the pure streams from a fountain divine. POEMS. 2 1 ^ €l)ilb at J3raM£r. Sweet Innocent ! may I but linger here To gaze upon thy youthful brow — thine eye Upturned to Heaven, while thy full heart pours . Its grateful adoration to that power Which formed the temple bright and beautiful ? Fair cherub — dost thou know that any save The All-Seeing Eye is resting on thee now ? Oh ! I could gaze upon thee long ; mine eye Hath ne'er beheld such perfect loveliness, For 'tis the verdant spring-time of thy year, The sunny smile, the more than mortal glow That beams upon thy countenance — the cheek Of rosy tinge, the snowy placid brow, The shining curl, the dark eye, lustrous with A living light that tells of diamonds rare Within the earthen casket, all are thine — And scarce seven summers' genial suns have shed Their influence o'er thy tender head ; thy form So frail, oh ! it doth seem thou* ne'er couldst stem The waves of life's rough current, dashing high Their spray, then sinking, flowing smoothly on But to redouble all their violence And toss the bark till fierce destruction yawns. Away, sad thought ! intruder, come not near To mar this picture with thy boding breath ! This spot is sacred, for the guileless soul, In holy trust and meek simplicity. Is holding audience with the Eternal King, . And sues for mercy. Yes, thou well mayst ask, For He who said " Come unto me," will not J POEMS. Reject thy suit. Here youth, in all its bloom And loveliness, is oftering up the lirst Fresh incense of a soul unstained by sin — Free off' ring from the well-spring of the heart, Pure as its source ! Methinks the angel choir Would pause, suspend their harps, in silence bend To catch the distant notes of prayer and praise Borne sweetly upward to the Throne of God ! Entranced I gaze and listen to those sounds As though 'twere fairy music floating soft Upon the twilight breeze, that I might catch Some Heav'nly inspiration from thy li])s, 'Twould breathe upon my soul a holy calm Amid the threat'ning storms and ills of life. Yes, in that fervent prayer of simple faith And childish trust, oh ! how I could confide. No formal, faithless mockery is here, With outward garment which but ill conceals The naked soul, by its own selfishness Empov'rished ! No dissembler's eloquence That winds its silken robes in graceful folds Around the sad deformity within ! No, this is white-robed innocence ! but see, The pleader rises and with timid eye Now meets my gaze. Forgive ! forgive thou wilt, For 'tis no heedless passer-by, but one Who'd gladly shield from time's cold, with'ring frosts Those buddings of th' immortal germ, and guard The slender stalk, till in the blissful clime Its blossoms shall unfold and wear the bloom Of never-fading verdure, basking in Th' effulgent blaze of glory which surrounds The Paradise of God. POEMS. 23 ^n Impromptu (J^vibute to tl)e iiTeinor» of Hobevt illcDoiucll, ^aq. Gone in a good old age ! Yes, four-score years Have strewn around thy path their summer tiowers And winter frosts. Though time with partial hJnd So many years bestowed, 'twas not in vain ; For, while a life of usefulness hath shed Its blessings all around, th' immortal germ, Expanding still, more perfect hath become, To wear the fadeless bloom of Paradise. But we will pause and dwell upon the past. While all thy lengthened path-way tells a part Well acted on the stage of life — the scene, Now closed to mortal eye ('tis ever thus), Stern justice will in scales unerring weigh The good and ill of all thy varied deeds. 'Tis true, upon life's battle-field no clash Of arms, no trumpetings of victory, No glitt'ring sword, worn by a coward's side. Proclaimed in dazzling pomp thine onward march ! No proud ambition's vain display to shine — No changing hues, chameleon-like, to sue For titled honors, mercenary ends, Have ever stained thine upright soul ; for thou Didst live above the world's poor vanities. With noble aim and stern integrity ; Unmoved didst meet the smiles or frowns of fate, 24 POEMS. And view earth's busy scenes of mingled care And strife, e'en like the giant oak, that stands Sublime and marks the whirlwinds wildly pass, Nor stoops to mingle in their clamor rude — An emblem of true greatness ! With a mind Of penetration deep, and soul adorned With sterling virtue, wisdom sage, which well Might grace a nation's council, thou didst choose To tread the humble walks of life, content With thy Creator's guardianship. How like An aged tree, whose branches wither one By one, thou'st seen fond friends, the true, the good. The loved depart — and far from home, and in A stranger's land, the last sad sigh was heaved — The last farewell was whispered — and the last Warm prayer was borne on faith's white wings to heaven ! Though not by strangers' hands were closed thine eyes, Thy children's children round thy dying couch Their sympathy bestowed in deeds of love ! Oh, yes ! — a slender youthful form was seen To glide in silence through the sick man's room — A gentle, self-devoted watcher ! Lost To her were earth's bright scenes, if she might soothe The bitter pangs which dry the fount of life. Or but beguile the weary hours of her Afflicted grand-sire ; but she has received The good man's parting blessing — meet reward For true devotion, generous sympathy. But while we bid a sad, a last adieu. Thy soul, from earth emancipated, soars To meet its Father and its God ! while saints, The loved, the lost of earth, do welcome thee To join their songs of bliss around the Throne! 25 Thus pass away from earth the great, the good, Like setting sun at eve, when not a cloud Obscures its glorious rays, and, like those rays, Their virtues linger when life's sun has set ! THOUGHTS OCCASIONED BY ITS PROPOSED ORGANIZATION INTO A TERRITORY. Hath earth a clod Its Maker meant not should be trod By man, the image of his God, Erect and free? — Campbell. Hath soil been marked by Heaven's decree To nurse the roots of slavery ? And this fair region of the West, In nature's gorgeous beauty drest, Been stamped to wear the oppressor's chain To mad ambition's thirst for gain — Been given a prey ? whose earth — whose sun And waters, sparkling as they run — Whose air and sk}^, and rocks and rills. And snow-crowned mountains — lofty hills, And fertile fields, and forests green. And hidden mines, and gems unseen, Are free, all free — must tyrants reign ? The good, the wise, all plead in vain — Must cruel, heartless man bear sway, And " laws enacted " to obey ? Shall freedom's sacred banner wave 2 6 POEMS. Where man must live and die a slave ? No— let the flag of Slavery rise In awful blackness to the skies — Not for the negro's hue to mourn, But for the light of freedom flown — To mark the spot where tyrants reign, And buy and sell for earthly gain Their brothers' rights, their brothers,' blood — Nor dread just Heaven's avenging rod ! Hath bounds been set to light and truth ? And their high mission, to go forth — Chained like the slave ? As well the sun Might in his course refuse to run,^ Or ocean's waves forget to roll. Or earth presume to change her pole. As tyranny expect to bind, By law or chains, the Heaven-born mind. How dear to man the ties of earth — Dear is the land which gave him birth — Dear is the patriot's honored grave, And dear the memory of the brave. How dear Columbia's peaceful homes, Her smiling daughters, hopeful sons. The happy hearth, the festive board, The blessings of the mind well stored, ■The pleasures of a taste refined — Nor laws to sever nor to bind. All, all that's dear to man was given Free — from the indulgent hand of Heaven. Then give the captive of the earth The light which gave those blessings birth ; Drive not the Indian from his home, In farther wastes and wilds to roam, But send the Gospel's heavenly flame, POEMS. 27 His soul to light, his will to tame. " Is't death to fall for freedom's right? He's dead alone that lacks her light !" Rouse ! rouse, ye freemen of the North ! Ye sons of toil, of honest worth, — Stand at your posts^assert your claims — Let history write your honored names, Who nobly dare arrest the ban That would degrade your fellow-man. Let honest labor be repaid, And Slavery's current yet be stayed ! By all that's sacred, all that's dear To freemen's hearts, who cannot fear. Save Heaven's just anger to provoke. Arise ! throw off the galling yoke Of sin and shame thy brother wears, — Avert his wrongs, and dry his tears ; And never, while the life-blood runs Warm in the veins of Freedom's sons, I^et warning voice, in accents clear, With words like these fall on the ear — "Thy brother's blood," in wailing sound, " Doth cry unto me from the ground ! " ^ illorning in 3\xnt. How calm and still the early dawn ! How bright the sunbeams play, Just breaking forth upon the lawn, To usher in the day. 28 POEMS. How ]Hire and balmy is the the air, All laden with perfume, Borne on the light, the gentle breeze, New clothing earth with bloom ! The birds, enraptured, pour one song Of ceaseless melody ! No jarring note, no harp unstrung, In Nature's minstrelsy ! How sweet, how beautiful the flowers Of summer's gorgeous hue ! Now sparkling in the morning sun With evenmg's star-lit dew. The fields appear in livery green — The trees with waving plumes — ■ In Nature's charming equipage The glad earth smiles and blooms ! There's music in the laiighing brook That gently winds along, Through meadow green or shady nook, To sing its pebbled song. The glorious sky, how brightly blue ! The clouds in beauty sleep. All folded back from Heaven's arch, Too tranquil now to weep ! What pure and holy'thoughts arise ! What adoration fills The soul ahve to Nature's charms ! — The soul that beauty thrills. POEMS. 29 And all is beauty, ev'rj'where, Around, beneath, above ! And all-rejoicing Nature glows With gratitude and love ! Then, while all earth responsive sings, With ev'ry harp in tune, May I not join the chorus gay This lovely morn of June ? ^\)t (^migrant. WRITTEN DURING THE PREVALEN'CE OF CHOLERA. On the banks of St. Lawrence one eve as I stray' d, To muse on the beauties of sunlight and shade, The rays of the setting orb shone in the sky, And all nature was tinged with a beautiful dye. Ev'ry wave was at rest as the stream roll'd along, Ev'ry echo was hushed of the birds' merry song ; The night-hawk was seeking her nest by the shore, — Not a sound broke the stillness save some distant oar. As 1 lingered to gaze on the beautiful scene, P'or the earth was now crowned with her garland of green, I believed that no sorrow had e'er marked the spot. And happiness here her fair dwelling had sought. 30 POEMS. But hark ! on the breeze, as the stream gUded by, Come the pitiful tones of a feeble child's cr)' ; For a moment I listened, to learn whence the sound, And then sought the spot, where the cause was soon found. There an Emigrant sat on the beach in despair, Sad, way-worn, and weary with sorrow and care ; Beside him lay sleeping his fair eldest boy — On his knee wept his babe, but he made no reply, Till, roused by the sound of a footstep so near, He gazed wildly round with an aspect of fear ; Then imploringly asked if a roof he could find To shield his poor babes from the chilling sight wind. " Their mother, poor darlings," he said, " she's no more — She died ere she reached the x\merican shore ; Then my baby fell sick when missing her care, And I gave my last penny to settle our fare." " I set out for Kingston, but by my delay I've only arrived at Matilda to-day ; May not the poor Emigrant some help obtain Till fortune may smile on his path-way again ! " Oh, could I relieve him, or dry mis'ry's tear. But I turned in despair, no home had I near ; To a mansion I pointed where riches were stored, And seemed to invite to its plentiful board. His babe to his bosom the Emigrant drew, The fast-falling tear to conceal from my view ; While in anguish he answered, " I came from that door ; No pity is there for the wretched and poor." POEMS. 31 Then cross this pure stream, I repUed ; on yon shore Hospitality reigns at a more humble door, Where provision is made for the poor and distressed, And the blessings of Heaven on the exile may rest. My heart moved with pity, I turned from the spot In silence, and slowly my lodgings I sought ; Tiie beautiful dream in my musing was o'er, The sorrows and woes of mankind to deplore. I thought of the changes that make up life's day, Now the sunshine of joy, when hope beams o'er the way. Then the darkness of sorrow that clouds the bright morn For the history of life in divisions is torn. Thus the Emigrant once, in his own loved retreat, With dear ones around him life's pleasures were sweet ; Now an exile he mourns, far from kindred and home, And doomed in the land of the stranger to roam. Matilda, Canada West. National ^nmn. TUNE — " AMERICA." Great Sovereign of the free, We bow alone to Thee, Author divine ; Who gavest our land its birth, Its altar and its hearth, The chosen spot of earth For Freedom's shrine. 32 POEMS. The morn looked up and smiled Upon her fairest child Of promise bright ; Columbia's name she bore, And on her head she wore A diadem of yore — Stars set in light. All nations look to thee, Thou birth-place of the free, With eager gaze ; O ! may the beacon bright, That sheds for all its light, Through dark oppression's night Still burn and blaze. With institutions great, Alike for Church and State, Or homestead hearth ; No favorite we know, Whose royal blood must flow, But honor, fame, bestow On merit, wortli. We hold, with honest pride. Our " Magna Charta" wide, Our blessings free ; Our glorious flag unfurled, Waves o'er the Western world. Its folds the breeze has curled On every sea. But should a lawless band Invade our cherished land, Or rebels rise ; POEMS. ^;^ We'll drain our richest veins To guard, while life remains, Our flag from ti-eason's stains In Freedom's skies. May peace, like gentle dove, Brood o'er the land we love, Nor seek to roam ; May no rude foe divide Our Union, strong and wide, Our fathers' God preside O'er Freedom's home. 1861. :o:- 3t JTirm. Be firm, O ye freemen, be firm in your might, Relinquish no part of your God-given right — No stronghold of freedom bequeathed by your sires, Still burn on their altars its hallowed fires. To light up the path of the fearless and brave, The " Flag of our Union " our country to save ; In the sunlight of justice and wisdom to guide The great ship of State o'er the tremulous tide ; From the shores of New England, from Plymouth's proud rock, Whose base the rude waves in their storm-fury mock. Where the first song of freedom rose full on the breeze, 2* 34 POEMS. Re-echoed again through the tall forest trees To the wild western prairie, whose wilder flowers vie With those of rich culture or beautiful dye ; From the North with its sturdy strong-armed sons of toil, Its free institutions, its generous soil, Tenacious of justice, equality, right, With sword in its sheath, yet untarnished and bright ; To the fair, sunny South with its chivalric pride (May its prowess and valor be ever untried). With its blooming plantations in peaceful repose. Unstained by death's carnage or war's fearful woes : From the North to the South, from the East to the West, In fidelity, love, may all wrongs be redressed, And the Union cemented, each willing to share Whatever the burden of national care. One God and one Country acknowledge, defend. May justice with mercy in harmony blend, " And the Star-Spangled Banner in triumph still wave O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave." March, i86i. Stanlr bn |)our Countvji. " Stand ! the ground's your own, my braves — • Will ye give it up to slaves ? Will ye look for greener graves ? Hope ye mercy still ? " Aye, stand by your country, freemen of the North ! The boon of those heroes of immortal worth, Whose names on the record of fame shall descend POEMS. 35 1 ill time with the history of nations shall end. Ye sons of the patriots — undaunted and true — Though priceless the boon, 'tis intrusted to you. Ay, stand by brave Lincoln, your country to guard— Her glory, fame, honor — your dearest reward ! From the halls of the nation is heard the war-cr)', " To arms ! " and each beating heart deigns the reply, " To arms ! " till its deep thunder-tones rend the air, " Our country and freedom or death and despair ! The Stars and the Stripes — yea, our pride and renown — - And woe to the traitor who tramples them down !" Arm, freemen ! at treason to strike the death-blow, With the veteran warrior, Scott, face the foe — The spirit of liberty, thrilling the North, Is calling her patriot warriors forth To meet them — your foes — they are brothers no more ! But traitors, imbruing their hands in your gore ! And staining the banner, the star-spangled sheet, That proudly waves o'er us, unknown in defeat ! Ye must meet them as rebels who dare to invade Your country, your glorious future degrade ! Who American liberties seek to o'erthrow, And the grand Magna Charta in dust to lay low ! Then gird on your armor, come forth in your might, And valiantly battle for " God and the right ! " Beneath the proud folds of the banner still yours. United and strong in the faith that endures ', " I'he Hand and the Writing are seen on the wall !" The oppressor is doomed and the traitor must fall ! Then on to the contest ! brave hearts and strong hands ! The first and the foremost our honor demands ! Our country is bleeding ! ay, stabbed to the core ! Her heroes are struggling for freedom once more ! In the cause of humanity, liberty, light. 36 POEMS. On ! on to the contest, and " God speed the right !" Though nobly you sleep in the soldier's rude grave, Still o'er you in triumph the banner shall wave, While millions of freemen the antheni will raise, Our country's redeemed ! to God give the praise I April, i86r. JTlag Uabing. [Occasioned by the raising of a Flag by the School of the Third Ward in the village of 0., being the first Flag raised over a school-building.] Up ! up with the banner, our pride and our glory ; Wherever it floats, o'er the land or the sea. The patriots and heroes of many a story Have paid a warm welcome and tribute to thee. The stars are all there and the stripes gayly streaming, " The Flag of Our Union," the badge of the brave ; Then rally around it while each star is beaming, Its folds can ne'er shelter the rebel or slave ! Our country's proud emblem, we hail it with pleasure ; No banner that floats is so brilliant and true ! 'Tis the ensign of freedom, our hearts' dearest treasure, We'll stand by our colors, " the red, white and blue." And while they are glowing from each spire and steeple, Three cheers for our flag, o'er the School-House unfurled ! The nursery of freedom, the wealth of the people. The strength of the_ Union, the hope of the world ! pof:ms. 37 When patriot hearts warmly thrill with devotion, Shall not our young voices swell loudly the strain ? Three cheers for our flag ! on the land or the ocean — *l'he Army and Navy, three times three again ! Friday^ May 17, 186 1. tribute to €ol. (!:llsu)ortl). Rest, warrior — rest thee now. While round thy youthful brow The laurel twines. Adorned with jewels bright As stars that gem the night, Bathed in the azure light When day declines. New York's loved hero falls — Hears not his country's calls — The nation weeps ! While Freedom's hallowed bed Shall claim his honored head, Brave Ellsworth is not dead, The martyr sleeps ! While patriots round thy bier In silence shed the tear Of grief profound ; The Stars and Stripes, half-mast, Are fluttering in the blast At treachery unsurpassed. On hallowed ground ! 38 May, 1861. 'Twas Freedom through the storm That nerved thy manly form To guard her trust, And on her sacred soil Foul treason's plans to foil, The rebel flag to spoil. And tread in dust ! A trophy round thy feet. For Freedom's champion meet ! While o'er thy grave The banner reared by thee, The treasure of the free, The badge of liberty. Is seen to wave. May Freedom from on high Each star in her blue sky Undimmed restore, From mad disunion's blight On our escutcheon bright The starry folds of light Beam evermore. O God of battles ! save, Ere Freedom finds a grave. We look to thee ; Let traitors ne'er divide Our " Union " strong and wide, In righteousness preside O'er millions free ! POEMS. 39 ^''ational Song. TUNE — "OUR FLAG IS THERE." God of the free, we bow to thee ; Thou dost the universe command ; Columbia's soil, from sea to sea, Is crowned in beauty 'neath thy hand ; Next to our (iod we love the sod Where Freedom fans her hallowed fires, Cemented by the patriot's blood, Rich Avith the graves of pilgrim sires. Chorus — Wide o'er the land let Freedom's band The nation's anthem loud prolong ; Let all rejoice, let every voice Be tuned to catch the thrilling song. Our country wide, each freeman's pride, A gem beneath the starry dome Whose lustre true in Heaven's own blue A beacon, points to Freedom's home ; We love the land, we love the laws Where Freedom rears her altar high. And in her glorious Heaven-born cause We'll guard our trust or for it die. The Stars and Stripes — the nation's types To publish o'er the land and sea Columbia's charter — equal rights. And tell the world her destiny ! 40 POEMS. From every mountain top and spire, From every steeple let them wave, Till earth shall glow with Freedom's fire . And doomed Oppression find a grave, j We love the earth which gave us birth, The land once trod by pilgrim feet, The nation's halls, tlie home and hearth Where statesmen rise, and true hearts beat ; By all that freemen prize and bless, By all we keep in mem'ry green, We'll guard our flag, not one star less Shall on its brilliant folds be seen ! Jjine, 1 86 1. €)ttr Countrn. Shall we give it up to traitors — Land our fathers died to save, Homes they rescued by their life-blood, From oppression's stormy wave ? Never ! till the free warm current In our veins shall cease to flow : By the sacred hopes we cherish, Every freeman answers, No ! In the spirit of our fathers, With their banner reared on high, Trusting in the God of Battles, We will conquer or we'll die ! POEMS. 41 Shades of heroes, hover o'er us ; Fires that on our altars glow, Nerve each arm and warm each bosom, Death to deal with every blow ! — Death to every germ of treason, Death to every rebel hope, Death to lawless, mad ambition, And oppression's blighting scope. Shall we compromise with traitors — Basely dally with the foe ; Yielding thus a tenfold victory, — Bare our breasts to meet the blow ? Heaven forbid ! and let us perish, If we ever recreant prove To the sacred cause of Freedom, To the Stars and Stripes we love. From the farm, the shop, the counter, From the desk and from the chair. Rally round our country's altar, Join ye in the ranks of war. On ! ye mighty host of freemen ; Where's the foe that can withstand Those who battle for their birth-right, For their God and native land ? On ! ye patriots, lion-hearted. Fathers, brothers, true and tried ; Free the soil from stain of treason, Let no foe our land divide. August 29, 1 86 1. 42 POEMS. i'incs on tl}£ IDcatl) of Cljarlcs Ijackus. [The deceased was a resident of Waddington, and was killed at the battle of Ringgold, aged eighteen years.] Far away from his kindred the young hero sleeps, From his home and the friends of Hfe's morning ; . His comrades around him lie buried in heaps ; Their graves are their country adorning. In the vigor of youth, ere his manhood's first prime, Ere life's ills checked his early devotion ; Ere the heart's purest currents were frozen by time, Or earth's damps chilled its warmest emotion. He laid down his life, so unspotted and fair, A sacrifice true on his country's high altar, Resolved if he fell he would perish but there His heart should not sink, his hand should not falter. With his face to the foe, a brave soldier he fell ! The day will live long in Rebellion's sad story ; At Ringgold's dread battle ! the cannon his knell, His cloak and his blanket his pall, wet and gory. His form, though unshrouded, by comrades was laid In the soldier's rude grave, while they pause to drop o'er him One tear to his memory — one farewell is said, Then away to the ranks haste the comrades who bore him. POEMS. 43 While far from the battle field, sighing in vain, The friends of his childhood are silently weeping, JUit he ne'er shall awaken to "glory again," Life's battle is o'er, he is (quietly sleeping. Adieu ! youthfid hero, a silent adieu ; Thy name, a bright star in our memory we'll cherish ; The patriot soldier, the noble and true. Thy country will bless till its glory shall perish. ilTcii of tl)c i5o«i*- When ruthless Treason in her might Walks madly forth at dead of night, To scatter gloom, to scathe and blight- Then Beauregard's the man, sir. To lead the vengeful rebel band, To desecrate fair Freedom's land. Dissolve the Union by command, Upon Jeff. Davis' plan, sir. What though Oppression's wail is heard. The nation's throbbing heart is stirred — "To Arms ! — To Arms !" the thrilling word. Still Beauregard's the man, sir, To trample Freedom's banner down And deeds of death and darkness crown With martial glory and renown, Upon Jeff. Davis' plan, sir. 44 P.OEMS. When envy, arrogance, and pride, Are leagued with treason at their side, And impious, lawless hordes deride — Then Beauregard's the man, sir, A ready heart and hand to lend Their " institutions " to defend, The glorious Stars and Stripes to rend, Upon Jeff. Davis' plan, sir. And those ambitious men agree Upon the witless, worthless plea Of making Southern freemen free ! And Beauregard's the man, sir. Who their mistaken rights must gain, Though Southern soldiers fall like rain, And priceless Liberty be slain. Upon Jefif. Davis' plan, sir. But loyal hearts in union beat, And_Union men with willing feet Are marching on, the foe to meet — And Beauregard's the man, sir. Whose sudden fall will treason check. Leave Jeff, with hemp around his neck, Their Cotton bark a total wreck. Upon Jefif. Davis' plan, sir. October, 1861. :0: Stanlt bn iiour Colors. Ay, stand by your Colors, The red, white and blue ; Preserve them untarnished, Ye loyal and true. POEMS. 45 No flag that is waving On land or on sea, Can equal in beauty The flag of the free. The spot where it rises — The richest of earth — Is sacred to freedom, To honor and worth ; And dear to the bosom As light to the eye, And brilliant in glory As stars in the sky. Though daring rebellion, "With traitoroiis blow, Shroud the temple of Freedom In darkness and woe ; Stand firm by your colors, On flag-stafl" or m^t ; As the vanguard of nations, Unmoved to the last. Though the famed "British Lion" Menace in his lair. Or, prowling for booty, Grow bold in despair. And attempt an excursion Across the blue deep — Like the dog in the fable, I^ess wise than a sheep ; 46 POEMS. Who, seeing his shadow, Dropped what was his own To phinder his neighbor, When, lo ! it was gone. The cause tliat is righteous Inspires the true soul, "Right is might" with the hero, Though tyrants control. Then stand by your colors. Ye loyal and brave. And "The Flag of our Union" In triumph shall wave. While in flight still unrivalled Our eagle shall soar With unfettered pinions, Till time is no more. Jamiary, 1862. 10 tl)erc ijop*^ ^^^ t')<^ Slant? How long — oh, how long in \\\e bondage and gloom Shall the Slave idly sigh o'er his terrible doom? Shall the last beam of hope slowly fade from his sky While in darkness he pines, no release but to die ? Not for him the blue heavens or green earth were made, The rill's gentle murmur or vine-tree's soft shade. POEMS. 47 The beautiful flowers that scent the pure air, The fruits or the harvest enriched by his care ; He hves for another, no tie is his own ! (Oh ! could the warm heart become frigid as stone?) The voices of loved ones, the dearest on earth — The richest of treasures — the home and the hearth — Not for him, he's an outcast, with cloud on his brow, A mark set upon him, his manhood must bow For the white man to injure, to curse and despise, His wrongs unredressed, yet insulting the skies ! Ah ! say not Heaven's blessings for him are in vain. That his heart never yearns, no thought burns his brain, No throb in his bosom, no light in his eye, No impulse high, holy, that soars to the sky : His soul has been stamped by the impress divine, The diamond yet sparkles though deep in the mine, And when the great Architect summons his host To gather his jewels, no gem will be lost. Throughout the wide universe, glowing and bright, Truth and freedom are blended in letters of liglit ; Through all the green forest, on each tiny leaf, Through earth's countless treasures — on each golden sheaf. In the dew-drop that sparkles on flower and thorn. The blossom that yields all its sweets to the morn, In the notes of the wild bird that merrily sings. As he soars free from care on his gay gilded wings, And the low thrilling harp-notes of liberty's song. Hear ye not in the breeze that comes floating along, Or sweeping the hill-top, the valley and plain, As free as the billows that roll o'er the main? But see, morn is breaking, the shadows of night Are melting away in the clear, radiant light Of the bright sun of freedom, whose beams will erase 48 POEMS. The gloom of oppression from earth's saddened face, And light up a smile on the cheek of despair, A smile bright and blessed as angels may wear, February i, 1862. :o: (gpitapl) for Nellie (S). AGED THREE YEARS. Yes, dear gentle Nellie, life's journey is o'er, A home thou hast gained on the bright sinless shore, Rejoicing with angels, more beauteous now, A harp in thy hand, and a crown" on thy brow. ini)crc are ^l)eM ? Where are the sweet dewy flowers of the morning, That grew in their beauty along the wayside. When the first crimson blush of the morn was adorning All nature in smiles like a beautiful bride ? Where are the birds which awoke us from slumber So merrily chirping, so cheerful and gay ? When Nature in tune seemed to join in the number. And scatter sweet melody over life's way. "Wliere is the casket of Hope's golden treasures. Her castles of splendor, and turrets of fame ? Life's spring-time of roses, and future of pleasures ; Its sorrows all vanished or known but in name. POEMS. 49 WTiere are the friends who were ours at our starting, And guarded our footsteps for many a dav, Who blest as they gave us the hand at our parting, And wept as they thought of the thorns by the way. And where is the cottage, the home of our childhood, Encircled with wild-vines so lowly and neat, The arbor we played in, the flowers, the wildwood ? The dearest on earth was that quiet retreat. They are gone, all gone, like a dream as we waken ; The flowers have withered, the sweet birds have fled ; Gone hope, fame and treasure, the casket lies broken : Our idols are scattered or mourned with the dead. " Such is life : " to-day all its beauty we borrow To clothe the bright visions of long future years ; Its shadows and gloom mar our pathway to-morrow ; No hope, but in heaven, is unmihgled with tears. ^l)e Caugl) of a Cljili). First verse copied from Root & Bradbury's Festival Glee Book, " I LOVE it, I love it, the laugh of a child, Now rippling and gentle, now merry and wild. It rings on the air, with its innocent gush. Like the trill of a bird, or the twilight's soft hush, It floats on the breeze like the tones of a bell. Or the music that dwells in the heart of a shell." Chorus : — " Oh, the laugh of a child, so wild and so free, Is the merriest sound in the world to me ! " Repeat chorus. ,3 50 POEMS. Second verse added by the Author. I love it, I love it, the laugh full and clear, Now gayly resounding, now soft on the ear, So soothing, so gentle and potent the spell, Like the fairy notes borne from some bright sunny dell. That laugh is the sun-beam of youth' s happy day. And its sweet winning tones will all care drive away. Chorus : — " Oh, the laugh of a child, so wild and so free, Is the merriest sound in the world to me." lUrittcn for tl)c "Sabbatl) Scljool trumpet." PUBLISHED BY H. S. P. Let the Trumpet's joyful sound Swell each heart and tune each voice ; Its inspiring notes resound, Calling children to rejoice. Chorus : — Sound the Trumpet, sound aloud the Trumpet, Let its glorious echoes ring ; Sound the Trumpet, sound aloud the Trumpet, Christ is Saviour, Priest, and King. Sweetly on the Sabbath air Ring its clear inviting tones, Gathering in for praise and prayer All the Saviour's countless ones. Chorus : — Sound the trumpet, etc. POEMS. 5 1 Gathered at the Trumpet's call, Sweetly sing the Saviour's name ; He who gave his life for all, Blest the children when he came. Chorus : — Sound the trumpet, etc. Praise him for his wondrous care. And the joyful news impart, While the Trumpet's tones declare Music of a grateful heart. Chorus : — Sound the trumpet, etc. Softln 51)e Sabtb. SET TO MUSIC BY H. S. P. Softly she faded, as fatles the summer ; Calmly she whispered,^Soon I'll be free ; Fair was the morning, early departed, Brighter my noon-day, Heaven dawns for me ! Chorus : — So 'twas she faded as fades the summer; So 'twas she whispered, — Heaven dawns for me. Sadly around her, warm tears were falling. Gently to soothe her, kind friends were near. Sweetly she mui-mured, — Cease, cease your weeping ; Heaven's gate is open, — angels are here. Chorus : — So 'twas she faded, as fades the summer ; So 'twas she whispered, — Angels are here. 52 POEMS. illm0tv£r0 C^oo^ Nigl)t. MUSIC BY H. S. P. Music, hast thou charms divine, That we worship at thy shrine ? Now in cadence soft and low, Like the ripphng streamlet's flow ; Now in chorus full and free, Like the ever-sounding sea ; Thrilling hearts with pure delight. Breathing low a sweet " Good-Night " — A sweet " Good-Night." Solo. List, that gentle fairy strain. Borne from some far distant plain ! Now it fades as fades the light, Voices whisper — all, " Good-Night." Yes, all " Good-Night." Music, sweetest siren, sings, Waking chords on mem'ry's strings j Bringing back life's cherished hours Fragrant with a thousand flowers. All the joys of social song ; Dearest joys we would prolong Till the hours repose invite, Then we bid you all, " Good-Night." Yes, all " Good-Night." POEMS. 53 Cincs fov iHusic. RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED TO H. S. P. Wilt thou come to me, my dearest Come to greet me as of yore, When I'm standing on the threshold, Looking through the open door That shall close my earthly vision From the scenes I loved before ? Come, oh, come to me, my dearest ; Come to meet me as of yore. Wilt thou come to me, my dearest, Since life's brightest hopes are o'er ? All of future joy or pleasure, All the fond heart's cherished store, Like the summer iiow'rs, are faded With the bloom of youth I wore ; Yet, oh, come to me, my dearest ; Sing the songs I loved once more. Wilt thou come to me, my dearest, Come to meet me on life's shore, As I'm nearing death's dark river. While its foam-capped billows roar — As I step down in its waters. Ne'er to tread the green earth more? Come, oh, come to me, my dearest, Come to meet mc on that shore. 54 POEMS. Wilt thou come to me, dearest, When my heart's last throb is o'er, And this form lies cold and silent By the river's peaceful shore ; When I'm singing with the angels Songs I never heard before ? Come, then, come to meet me, dearest, When thy dream of life is o'er.