i mmi mMfi. ^ Class IP Sii£2j' BookJ^lfjI Copyright ]^^_HM . COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. FRIENDSHIP'S FRAGRANT FANCIES. (3) FRIENSHIP'S FRAGRANT FANCIES By CATHERINE MORIARTY New York DODGE FrBLISHIN(; ( O. 93 ILast 20th Street COPYRIGHT, 190 5, BY DODGE PUBLISHING CO. FIRST EDITION, MARCH 1905 LiBBAHYof iONGKESS I WD Copies rteusiveu JUL 7 1905 COPY b. Dedicated to MY FATHER JOHN RUSH (7) ^■« CONTENTS. PAGE Absent 93 A Bunch of Violets 119 Aged Five 49 An Old Inkstand 63 An Old Rose Jar 92 A Platonic Letter 160 April Fool 14s A Revery 95 As Told by the Robins 131 At Even Song 88 A Twilight Song 104 A Young Wife 16 Baby Mary 67 Beatrice Cenci 87 Before the Dawn 142 Between Loves 164 Blind Milton 166 Call of the Bluebirds 130 Chrysanthemum Time yj Cliff Dwellers 138 Coming of Winter 156 Come unto Me 77 Countess of Blessington 13 Creation 51 Doctor Holmes 21 Dreaming Londonderry 122 Drinking Song 149 Edelweiss, The 65 Elderberry, The 90 En Masque 125 Evening on the Reservation 74 First Snow, The 45 Gertrude 62 Gethsemane 80 Golden Rod 96 Goldfinch, The 18 Harvest Song 33 His Thoughts of Her 163 Honor 124 (9) CONTENTS. PAGE Hudson, The 78 In an Old Library 141 In Blossom Time 103 Incompleteness I53 In Memoriam 68 In the Red Deeps 120 Jasper's Leap 84 Jean Ingelow 31 Jester, The 136 Kate's Little Girl I33 King Carnival 94 Last, The 148 Lilacs 50 Little Brown Nun, The 20 Longfellow 159 Marseilles Hymn, The 97 Meadow Gossip 129 Morning Glories S8 Mystical Rose 91 October 154 Psalmist, The 140 Retrospection 146 Requiescat in Pace 26 Return, The 40 Return of May, The 89 Shell Secrets 75 Sherman's March to the Sea 127 Since Yesterday 134 Speaking of Memoirs S6 Sonnets 85 Story of a Home lOS Sunset at Naples 98 Tennyson's Death ISI 'Tis True, 'Tis Pity 46 To a Butterfly 60 To Lucinius 35 To Mother Berchman 82 Under the Mistletoe 42 Venice 53 When Day is Done 24 Windfalls n With Wilhemina lor Ye Olden Days............ 28 (10) friendship's fragrant fancies WINDFALLS. These are the gatherings of passive days: Who chides me, then, for winnowing at will? May I not have a loftier purpose still Than coveting the inadvertent praise? There are, I know, stray bitter ones among. Some may be tasteless, and a few are sweet; Beneath the trees I came with tarrying feet And knew the fields wherein the choicest hung; But passed with these — perhaps a scanty store. I heard the reapers in the fallow grain, I saw the bluebirds circling in the lane, And felt that after all the best is poor. The best Is poor: for we are given dreams That drift like wanton clouds against the west. Not every grief by reasoning is redressed. Not every joy Is stranded in our themes. (II) i/^Jd f>/ tl^r^/e^JJ'H^/^t-ry/^i T friendship's fragrant fancies COUNTESS OF BLESSINGTON. "Beneath Blessington's eyes The reclaimed paradise Should be free as the former from evil; But if the new Eve For an apple should grieve What mortal would not play the devil." — Lord Byron. Queen of a laurelled, bygone age Thy triumphs brighten many a page, For history too hath served thy art And given to thee a name apart. The canvas shows thy youthful face Where mellowed genius left its trace, Yet did the artist still regret Thy subtle charms were but half met. Was It the smile upon thy lips Which cupid's own had not eclipsed, That made thy conquest so replete And brought thy lovers to thy feet : Was It the shrug of shoulders bare, So round and smooth and softly fair. Made each gallant boast he had won Thy favor, Countess Blessington? (13) friendship's fragrant fancies Was it thy hand, my belle coquette, That brushed in lightest minuet Those fingers burning to ensnare Thine own forever — did they dare? Was it thy forehead broad and fine, Of brilliant thought the noble shrine And crowned with tresses dark and soft, With glistening diadem aloft? Perhaps it was thy regal way. For who held prestige in that day Of learning and of chivalry My lady, when all bowed to thee? Was it thy repartee so fit Like sparks of fire struck from thy wit? Or was it (ah! reflection sad!) Thou wert not gpod — nor yet so bad. Nay," in thine eyes lay all the spell ; Each courtier knew that full well. Such eyes! A thousand witching arts Settled therein their poignant darts ; And played through every luring mood From lightest mirth to solitude Flashing like stormy threatened skies — Alack ! for they were Irish eyes. (14) friendship's pragrant fancies Nor did they laugh with sudden thought E'en while thy very lips told naught, Now deepen darkly with a glance That seemed some mystery to enhance. Now upward rise in keen rebuke Upon presuming knight or duke, Or falter, till in shadows meek The fringing lashes swept thy cheek. If Lawrence laid his brush aside To say thy loveliness defied His master hand: if poets swore Men ne'er could see such beauty more; What must I in this later day But turn from thee and them away. For long ago thy fame was won. Imperial Countess Blessington. (15) FRIENDSHIP S FRAGRANT FANCIES A yOUNG WIFE. They say her smile was sweetest when she lay In that enthralling power whose guise is sleep ; And I remember now it was her way To smile when sleep was deep. lYet when I pressed the hand that lay so still And called her name and smoothed her pretty hair, She answered not, nor soothed with her dear will My lonely heart's fond care. How softly lay the laces on her breast — I thought she was so lovely in repose That surely paradise was still more blessed In claiming my sweet rose. A rose that throve in sunshine or in shade Until at length death touched the tender bloom And withered it just when it would have stayed To brighten in the gloom. :(i6X friendship's fragrant fancies And then at this my heart fell sick and blind — I was but conscious of that vague unrest And ceaseless yearning that must fill the mind When brooding death is guest. Oh, still she sleeps! The jasmine blooms as then, And nature bears its warm life from the deeps; And summer birds sing lightly once again. But still, alas I she sleeps. (17) friendship's fragrant fancies THE GOLDFINCH. He, the audacious harbinger Of matin pure, sets morn astir; The redbreast is not fleeter Than this lithe, yellow feathered bird Whose violative song is heard In such a gushing meter. He wings away in snowy mist Of silver thistledown, breeze kissed, And triumphs in its mazes; He pecks the shaggy, half-blown sheath And thrusts his saucy head beneath While chirping sweet self-praises. How with his gay, capricious curves Through spring's ambrosial air he swerves In freedom mad-delighted; And where the droning bee has sipped He lifts his head, vermilion tipped, As if a feast he sighted. (i8) friendship's fragrant fancies Then with fresh rivalry he sings Until the very woodland rings From minstrelsy in feather; And when the other carols bring rrheir echo thence, perched listening He mocks the vain endeavor. But just as he a hope elates, He in a wilful mood migrates As would a nymph of laughter; And passing through the shadowy aisles Of friendly trees for miles and miles Man may not follow after. :(i9); friendship's fragrant fancies THE LITTLE BROWN NUN. They always wondered at the dreams which lit The dusk-like, shadow-woven eyes of grey, But now they know God chose her long ago, Calling her even from her childish play. He told her of a theme the heavens sing; And then the passing of an angel's wing Darkened those eyes with mystery a bit; And they could not Fathom her afterthought. Through sick wards now she passes day by day. The invalids caress her rosary beads, Her ready smile Answering each weary wile And shining on their poverty and needs. It may be meant for faith or hope or tears Or all, in truth; but tenderest to fears. So men learn there to bless a woman's way — Sweet little nun I Who smiles and passes on. (20) friendship's fragrant fancies DOCTOR HOLMES. "They say that in his prime Ere the pruning knife of time Cut him down Not a better man was found By the crier on his round Through the town." -Holmes. Dear old Autocrat I Your name Still to precedence has claim, And we shun The later poet's themes, For your song more gracious seems Gentlest One! What though his aims be wise No nearness we surmise In his powers: No tenderness is plain So sensitive of pain That is ours. (21) FRIENDSHIP'S FRAGRANT FANCIES Scorning all pedantic whims And the arrogance which dims Honest eyes; Your heart grew great and leal For your mission was to heal, Not despise. With genial wit akin To memories that had been Long ago, The jocund thought you stirred But never by a word Wakened woe. When last we saw your face, Shaggy browed, yet with the grace Of old age. We thought of many a grief lYou were wont by counsel brief To assuage. And boasted 'twould be years. Ere death claimed you ; though with fears Had to cope. 'Twas you who taught us how Death should find us at the prow Of our hope. (22) friendship's pragrant fancies Singer of a sweet Spring-time 1 Poet of a yester's prime I When again Shall we hear such kindly voice Shall we make such happy choice Among men? (23) FRIENDSHIP'S FRAGRANT FANCIES WHEN DAY IS DONE. When day Is done, how calm the rest How loved in truth the eventime. How gently falls the lightest quest, How soft the distant mellowed chime : An angel hand writes : "Peace is won," On western skies, when day is done. And sorrow lays upon her lips A finger tempering refrain. And from our cares the vision slips Ere we recall our grief again : For God's own benediction lies iWhen day is done, on weary eyes. And blest are they of dreamless sleep Where every sunbeam steals astray In silent graves so deep — so deep — They awe the birds that wing that way; And yet It seems each buried one Must hear his mourner's orison. (24) FRIENDSHIP'S FRAGRANT FANCIES The cricket trebles in the deeps His reedy notes plebeianized, The bats his moody vigil keeps In haunts the bee at noon had prized; And earth is stilled with heaven near, When eventide and dreams are here. (25), friendship's fragrant fancies "REQUIESCAT IN PACE." Upon the highest hilltop Doth It sway, A beautiful tall poplar Glistening gray; And 'neath It lies a maiden's Mouldering clay. Sometimes a noisy robin Seeks Its shade, But wings him to his fellows In the glade, Because he knows a father There hath prayed. There sweep the mists of morning. And the breeze Shakes out the tiny raindrops Through the eves, And whispers climb the hillsides From the seas. ;(26) FRIENDSHIP'S FRAGRANT FANCIES It is so stilly solemn! Peace doth brood, [An Eden peace that chastens Every mood, ■And beckons angels there To solitude. :(27) friendship's fragrant fancies YE OLDEN DAYS. How sweet it were once more to see, As light as any bird and free In the fresh morn, o'er wooded ways The maiden of the olden days. With lightsome form and fair hand slim Holding above her ankle trim Beruffled skirt: in no disguise The coquetry within her eyes, And the half shaded, sidelong gaze. There 'neath the greenwood's kindly shade Where simple lover vows were made, I know full well she tried his heart With many a stealthy, honeyed dart; Though bending o'er her tapestry. Arch innocent, feigned not to see ; And like the bud the wild bee sips She pursed her dainty, curving lips And smiled at him in fond amaze. (28) friendship's fragrant fancies How oft he left in righteous wrath Frowning his way adown the path; In sooth it were not fair nor best To give his loyal love such test ; And yet to see the violet eyes (Love stars unveiled when Cupid sighs) He turned again — ah ! fatal thought — He might have known, if he knew aught, How she could bind him with her gaze. And when the twilight soft and deep, Had fallen on the mountain steep; To see him ride the pathway old With song majestically bold, And stop beside the gateway tall. Just where the Ivy hides the wall. And the pale jasmines interlace; It must have been their trysting place. And time has spared it on his ways. He, springing to the ground, would greet Milady with a smile so sweet That chivalry were not amiss. The while he bended low to kiss (29) friendship's fragrant fancies The hand so slender, smooth and white, That in his own 'twas hidden quite; And then she bids him ride away, Tho' in her heart she bids him stay, So gentle was his knightly praise. But I would see her later yet, Bowing the stately minuet, In cream brocade and powdered curls, And soft fair throat clasped round with pearls; And o'er her cheeks the roses blown. Oh, the light time she must have known! In the wide halls and drawing rooms In the glad morn and twilight glooms, The maiden of the olden days. (30) friendship's fragrant fancies JEAN INGELOW, May 15th, 1897. There breathes about the evening of her life A chaste serenity — the dusk of years, That fills the soul with passive retribute For any grief that harbored peace in tears. Still doth she smile unconscious, deep-welled love, Though long immute her first great eager themes; Still are there cradled fancies in the eyes That sought the ocean cliffs and dreamed fond dreams. The world has nigh forgotten that she lives; But in some hearts, remote, the seeds are sown Which spread from words that blossomed into fame With sudden vigor when her power was known. A citadel of dreams she bides within, With scenes and friends 'twas not our lot to know; Thus can she sacrifice our scanty praise, Gleaning 'mid triumphs of the long ago. (31) FRIENDSHIP'S FRAGRANT FANCIES Tarry, ye listless passers by, and muse Upon this woman's life so pure and great. Whose humblest songs had still enough of love Some vague, unwritten joy to consecrate. (32) friendship's fragrant fancies HARVEST SONG. The lurid sun breaks on the east, Heigho ! Heigho ! The field birds' callings are increased, Heigho ! Heigho ! Now forth to harvest we must go ; And reap and gather row by row (With never a cooling breeze to blow, Heigho ! Heigho ! Wild poppies smile amid the wheat, Heigho ! Heigho ! But droop ere noon by scythe and heat, Heigho ! Heigho ! Afar the voices mingle low, Now cheery, now subdued and slow, Like a rivulet's uneven flow, Heigho ! Heigho 1 The sun is low against the west, Heigho ! Heigho ! Each swain finds her he loves the best, Heigho ! Heigho ! (33) f riendship's fragrant fancies And where Is Bessie gone? — and Joe? They passed this way an hour ago. The frighted meadow larks may know, Heigho! Heigho! (34) friendship's fragrant fancies TO LUCINIUS. Translation from Horace. Luclnius ! Life will brighter seem to thee If thou on shore not all ambitions burn, Nor yet lose listlessly in open sea The tideways of return. Still to be loved! And being loved still praised: A golden mean in all thy fortunes keep; On sordid pride the hand of envy lays Its maledictions deep. For tallest trees are shaken by the wind, And proudest mountains leveled to the plain — Forbear ! High towers fall with a force designed While modest walls remain. So keep thy mind well balanced. Hope will gleam And beckon when adversity is guest; And fear shall follow gladness like a dream In shadowy unrest. (35) friendship's fragrant fancies If in thy heart the pain of loss is sharp, The darkest hour shall pass — forgotten so. Apollo wakes the muse upon the harp, Nor always bends the bow. Be then courageous in infirmity, And shorten sails when wings of victory lift; That with the passing of success to lea Thou shalt not lie adrift. (36) friendship's fragrant fancies CHRYSANTHEMUM TIME. Chrysanthemum time is here again; The world is brown, And thro' the town Stray wisps of leaves are eddied low. But near each frosted window pane These tousled heads look out and bow To those who pass The crystal glass, Where they for weeks have longed to show. Fair maidens down the wide street come With color blown '(A bloom their own) Across the cheeks of tender mold. A huge inert chrysanthemum Lies on each breast against the cold. Were mortal blest With such a rest I fear they would not thus be dumb. (37) friendship's fragrant fancies I saw a sweet-faced woman clasp A little child Who upward smiled, ' And said, "Pleath, lady, div me one." She gave him all his arms could grasp, And standing, wistful, sent him on; But who shall say What yearnings lay Along the way the child had passed. Men in the twilight pacing slow, Complacently, Smile when they see These flowers that meant so much to them. Perhaps — oh, full a year ago ! And while their folly they condemn, A score or more Like those she wore Send home — for old love's sake, you know. i Dear, shaggy faced chrysanthemums. Here, everywhere, lYou nod and stare! Not too poor for the palace halls, Nor too rich for the city slums — lYou are like Him who loves us all, (38) friendship's fragrant fancies You come to cheer When skies are drear, Thrice lovable chrysanthemums. (39) friendship's fragrant fancies THE RETURN. Lo ! after years of silence you have come, The morn was grey as any morn has been ; How could I know the evening would bring in A friend whose generous greetings long were dumb ?, The time had sped that marks the blossomy spring; But when the blithe old garden smiled In June And drowsed in its exuberance of bloom, I missed the hope It all was wont to bring. And winter sends you back : words ill express The welcome your divining heart must know, My good Samaritan of long ago! How you had sinned ere I could love you less. So you are come to counsel just as then, To toss my books or whet an argument With spicy incivilities well meant — What joy it is to have you here again I (40) PRIENDSHIP^S FRAGRANT FANCIES Come, sit beside me near the oak wood blaze — Here where the light may shine upon your face, The while in every lineament I trace What I so loved in days agone to praise. (41) friendship's fragrant fancies UNDER THE MISTLETOE. "The heir with roses in his shoes That night might village partner choose." —Scotf. Oh, the merry, merry yuletides Of the golden long ago, When they hung above the holly Intertwined with mistletoe ; When their hearts were gay and careless — Were they gay and careless — quite? Or was it, dear, they masked their hearts To laugh on Christmas night? The old folks bowed the guests within, With faces lit with love, [(For any one that entered there Must hope and valor prove). A smile that once was wond'rous sweet Played softly round their lips, As when to an abstraction fleet, The soul unwary slips. (42) FRIENDSHIP'S FRAGRANT FANCIES La Belle Lisette, so lithe and fair, Was then a sad coquette, And with her artful witcheries She made her lovers fret; Until within her fickle heart Love's shaft of sunshine fell. And what she vowed 'neath mistletoe Her yellow letters tell. Sir Godfrey, with his smooth fine chin. Set in a high cravat. And waistcoat frilled with snowy lace — A real aristocrat — He joined them, too, and led the dance, And quothe he, bowing low, "Methinks I'd win my yule blown rose Beneath the mistletoe." Ay, every fond enamored lass Did love the mistletoe. Propriety did bend and smile Upon his cupid foe; When madcap Nell and pet Louise, With velvet Knights and tall, Came filing down the festooned stair. And to the banquet hall. (43) FRIENDSHIP'S FRAGRANT FANCIES And many and many a year has passed, With lilac ladened spring, And many a summer gives sweet song To make the woodland ring; But Christmas, with its holly boughs, And clustering mistletoe, Brings with it like a sweeter dream A thought of them you know. (44) friendship's fragrant fancies THE FIRST SNOW. How silently it falls! No lightning flash — no sweep of thunders loud; Yet doth it cover moor and field ; and shroud Our dead again in one all-folding sheet! Then when the moon rides thro' the blurring fleet Of midnight clouds, the white-robed sceptre trees (Whose winnowed wealth sequesters in the leas) Shake wild avenging arms; and seem to heap Weird maledictions on the world in sleep. (45) friendship's fragrant FANCIES' " 'TIS TRUE, 'TIS PITY." (With apology to the few exceptions who are creditable.) Ah-h-h, are you in society? For we must with propriety Distinguish that variety With every sacred law. But really, though your face is fine, Your pedigree I do opine Is not of an ancestral line Like ours in Omaha. Exclusive? — ^Well, I rather guess That's what we are — er, more or less I Since only those of smart address Are given any heed: We read all books writ in our day — What Carlyle says? — don't tell, I pray, 'Twas something stupid, I dare say. Carlyle we never read. (46) friendship's fragrant fancies ^ We are not to a great extent A brilliant set; but we have sent Our boys to college. They have "went" And learned a wondrous lot. When they come home with tangled hair, And eastern ways and worried air, Olympus' sons could not compare In feats that they've been taught. Our forefathers — the dear old bats — With buckled shoes and frilled cravats, B'Jove ! they were aristocrats In their day — don't you know. Here are their portraits, every one. From noble sire to nobler son — Why, yes, of course, we had them done In Rome a year ago. And have you seen our golfing grounds? Our very latest notion. Zounds ! [(That word from the old playwright sounds As if 'twere made for airs.), The secret of our regal sway Is simply this: we rarely pay Our bills. Forsooth, we're too blase For such plebeian cares. (47) friendship's fragrant fancies ^ And soon, perchance, we'll ride to chase With hounds unloosed in eager pace ; We'll stretch across the wildest place E'en though such splendor shocks Those poor untutored wayside men Who ne'er will see such like again — Nor dream patrician dreams. But then — I say, who'll buy the fox ? (Ye Gods ! what sorry truths reveal The vanities these people feel Who, like the fly on Aesop's wheel Say, "My, what dust I raise!" Oh, give to us a respite blessed, We bore it long — here is the test — And now we beg a little rest, In idle summer days. (48) friendship's fragrant fancies AGED FIVE. What is he like? Ah, dear heart, who knows, With his questioning eyes and saucy nose, With round cherub face that is always alive To things which happen along the drive — What is he like, save a boy of five? The grave tiny maids at the window frame In the house across, when first he came. Sat thoughtful in council the whole day through Deciding, at last that a baby new Had come from Heaven: we thought so, too. What is he like? A wee renegade They dropped from the stars, — the same who made The angels long for the far away earth, The home that would know his laughter and worth Where love and hope had decreed his birth. :(49): FRIENDSHIP'S FRAGRANT FANCIES LILACS. Oh, rare and pure, and too, too happy flowers I iWith tumbled bells that lilt a thousand hopes, Advancing timid Spring upon the slopes — I love you for your hint of hidden powers; But most I love you for another thing More sweet to me than even you and spring. (50) FRIENDSHIP'S FRAGRANT FANCIES CREATION. Our love remakes the old, old world, Reveals the welkin zone. And spills across the midnight vault The myriad stars thick-sown. The violets hint that earth is pulsed Through all its veins with youth. And warmed and formed and born anew With some diviner truth. The rubies, sunk a million years In clarifying red, Have yielded from their hidden mines A chaplet for your head. And gleaning thro' the birch tree aisles The thrush and oriole Feel love transcend their 'wildering psalm And make their matin whole. Beloved come ! Time has passed down The channel of his cares — Beloved come I lest life eke out Some sorrow unawares. (SI) f riendship's fragrant fancies The opal clouds do bend to touch The mountains of the east, Beloved come ! day heralds in A joy-thrilled bridal feast. (52) friendship's fragrant fancies VENICE. What varied charm, fair city of the seas, Intones thy name with drowsy murmurings; What buried claim, what pean of dead bells O'er the imaginative heart still flings A theme of glory brighter than hath been Since royal pageants swept the ducal halls; Since, love-mad in a jocund revelry. The Carnival hath echoed through thy walls. In yonder bell tower rising to the skies, Whose turret caught the morning's early beams, A golden chalice offering the day And burnished now with evening's dying gleams, Did Galileo woo the summer night, And in bewildered rapture often trod Along the pathway of the silent stars, And rested on the bosom of his God. Here flutters still the veil of Jessica And sly lago wends his crafty way: Romance is in each shadow thrown at eve, And history blended with each scene at day. (53) friendship's fragrant fancies There still is shown above the placid waves The balcony where Desdemona leaned Ere yet the frowning Moor had filled his soul With bitter thoughts his jealousy had gleaned. 'Tis Byron's Venice ! On Its lonely shore His genius from its lethargy awoke, And to a distant land and distant king His fretful soul in brooding accents spoke. And even now, as when he praised her walls, St. Mark's Byzantine splendor still Is shown — St. Mark's that knelled the Doge to his tomb And proudly made the new successor known. And where the paler moonlight doth enrich The loggia wide and graceful balustrade. It needs not much to hear again the sound Of soft guitar and plaintive serenade: 'Till there a face betrays Its sweet amaze. And a low voice is whispering replies — A world of witchery on the smiling lips, A gentle melancholy in the eyes. Perhaps It was upon a fete day once When masqueraders fled amid the throng, And young and old closed In upon their way 'Till echoed far and wide their mirthful song : (54) friendship's fragrant fancies 'Twas then, I say, with a momentous thrill The fair Inamorato saw below Her lover there, and scarce suppressed her tears ,When her he passed, and did not seem to know. But still she kissed a rose and threw it down, And, anxious, looked to see it live or crush, As eagerly he pressed it to his lips And backward glanced to see her happy blush. Ah, idle dreams! that have their best abode Where love and power have reigned so mightily — Sleep, Venice; dream! though waking bringeth pain Thou art not ours but what our fancies be. In medieval days thou wert more fair But not so lovely as thou art to me, For Time that laid thy noble rulers low Hath left its tender memories to thee. 'Till I, grown weary of a saddened world. Find here a respite languorous and sweet. And catching up the burden of thy song, "Santa Lucia" dreamily repeat. (55) friendship's fragrant fancies SPEAKING OF MEMOIRS. Once did a man his day dreams sketch 'Tween covers finger worn, And here and there in grudging haste A haunting leaf was torn. He traced the story of his life From unresponsive years; A shaft of sunshine on the page Oft dissipated tears. In catacombs of buried joys He lost the light of day, And told his heart, — celebrity Such broodings would repay. Ay ! every dream had record there : Existence meant for him Searching along with the torchlight hope Through aisles of memory dim. (56) friendship's fragrant fancies Then lovingly he read them o'er — Each fame-portending page: His retrospections paid him well — The book hath lain an age. The book hath lain an age. In dust The parchment falls away As doth a shroud from mouldering bones, As doth a flower to clay. Yet It hath served as well as those In ivory vellum bound: A memoir is but fossiled pride, And never sought : 'tis found. (57) friendship's fragrant fancies MORNING GLORIES. My Marion, when she lived, so loved these flowers : There's many must remember how she tripped Each morning when they all hung rainy-dripped Across the meadow to the heather bowers, Where sinking sadly from the midnight showers They hung storm beaten in the early hours ; Until the sunlight or my Marion came And lifted them to their accustomed place, Where they would twine again, and interlace, And bear quite proudly their old-fashioned name: Their rainbow colors flaunting with such claim The paler, pining harebells drooped for shame. And sometimes she would place them in her hair '(Purple and gold in royal challenging), A lovelier crown no courtier could bring: Then she would come to meet me, not a care Upon the upturned face so young and fair, Nor in the eyes which held me captive there. (58) friendship's fragrant fancies But that was long ago ! Sweet Marion wed I knew not whom nor made a single quest, But then a song had died within my breast. From every scene of boyhood hope I fled, Yet did forgive. And when my love lay dead These blossoms kissed again her sunny head. (59) friendship's fragrant fancies TO A BUTTERFLY. Tell me, gaudy butterfly, Are you happier than I ? Prisoner, you must tell me why. I would know before you wing, What is earth's most treasured thing, What it is the robins sing. Tell me what has sweetest been. On the banks or in the glen. And I'll let you fly again. Not so quick I You'll bruise this gold Laid upon you, fold on fold — In your bondage you're too bold. There's your tree — the hollow lime. Where the honeysuckles climb; There you've idled many a time. And the lily's nectarous depths, Where the sunlight's gold has crept, And the dews of night have slept. (60) friendship's fragrant fancies Where the brier rose scents the brink, And the lazy woodbirds drink, iYou were tardy, too, I think. What Is it that Is so dear, Bringing all of you each year Out of nowhere into here? God hath made you just for this, Fluttering — fluttering, kiss for kiss, Wild with sweets — a flower is bliss. Downy, soulless butterfly, Quafling joys from field and sky, Are you happier than I? Go! you'll not reveal a thing, And you tear your restless wing With your wilful fluttering. (6i) friendship's fragrant fancies GERTRUDE. "Who never ate his bread with tears." — Goethe. That day stands out against the curtained past Of years enrolled to silence, as if classed Not only with what was, but what will be And ever is : the thought checks gaiety And holds glad moments with suspended breath — The thought that stays the memory of her death. They laid her down amid the daffodils That glow and brighten on the western hills; Where in December sinks, untracked, the snow, Where, in the first months early violets blow; Where summer starlight lingers lovingly — The virgin starlight not more chaste than she. Oh, the dear laugh we missed those darkest days, The eyes so wistful in their love always ! The slender hands that feebler — feebler grew. And lay inert at last. Death was kind, too, And left her calm and beautiful and fair: How could we grudge her to God's holier care ? (62) friendship's fragrant fancies [AN OLD INKSTAND. Herewith dear memories dwell, As of some old familiar friend Who knows whereto my thoughts extend ; Who lives in that interior Of wordless hopes and dreams that war The heart's own citadel. The monogram's bright glow Hath long been blurred by rust and blot, A gift from — whom it matters not. The little polished love beside Hath lost his wings : do not deride, He cannot vanish so. Thus had it chance to learn Of moods and means the stolid trend; That truth and idle words contend; That thoughts, fresh when the pen is dipped, Away inconstantly have slipped And take uncertain turn. X63) friendship's fragrant fancies Ah I very like a friend. It knows the hidden folded scroll, The records of a hurried soul, And o'er the thoughts of other years The lines are traced in slow arrears. Which typify the end. (64) friendship's fragrant fancies THE EDELWEISS. High up above the haunts of fevered men, As if some angel sought its pure repose, And near to heaven as thing of earth may be, The Edelweiss blooms in the Alpine snows. As soft and velvety its stainless white (And they say, too, who live below, as cold), Howbeit, 'tis the emblem of young love. Cloud-kissed and rare the flower doth unfold. The slow unlettered herdsman hath no skill To tell the love to which his life doth cleave; He knows the song his heart sings all day long. And that the words are fettered there at eve. There's not a bird that carols to the morn. There's not a bee which sips the sweetened rose, Nor anything in nature's noble realm But seems to him his deep love to disclose. And often when the Alpine evening wanes. The musing swain looks up with tender eyes. Marvels how much his life might still contain If, when the morning mellowed in the skies, (65) friendship's fragrant fancies His hand might pluck this blossom of the snows. In truth they say it hath so strange a claim It wins the maid whose heart had else been cold If it be found and given in her name. Precipitous, alas! the mighty peaks So delicately poised, that but the stride Of some light erring foot doth often send An avalanche adown the mountain side. And here it grows! What brooding poet gave The pure significance it proudly bears, There where the mountaineer may search in vain, There high above men's murmurings and cares. (66) FRIENDSHIP'S FRAGRANT FANCIES BABY MARY. Baby Mary, Like a fairy, Very sweet and good, Comes to meet me, Love and greet me In the maple wood. Baby Mary, Like a fairy, Very bold and rude, When I doubt her. Calls about her Sorrows — such a brood. Baby Mary, Weary — very. Slumbers in a mood, Lost completely. Smiles most sweetly, Thus are angels wooed. (67) friendship's fragrant fancies IN MEMORIAM. (To Catherine Dalton Swift.) How shall we bear the coming of the May, The advent of the violet crowned spring? How watch the setting sun in day's decline, And feel not you recalled in everything? How bear the echo of a careless laugh, And hear not yours in stifling back a sob; How walk unbowed, unsorrowed o'er the way. Which you in joy and youth and hope have trod? Our lips refuse to form the farewell words, Our arms stretch out your pulseless form to keep, But silently you lie, still folded eyed. And seem unheeding in your tranquil sleep. Sleep, gentle One : nor would we wish to wake Your patient being to our strife and sin : The laurels shall be fresh upon your brow, Which we through fears and years have yet to win. (68) FRIENDSHIP'S FRAGRANT FANCIES For well ! I know that where the angels lean Above the parapets of azure skies, A soul was gladdened in the light of morn, And welcomed to a restful paradise. And when the golden glowing day is done, You will be watchful as your loved ones come; As reapers leave their fields and journey on To seek their places in a higher home. (69) friendship's fragrant fancies WILD ROSES. Dew mellowed emblems of the May, What rare perfection lies In faint hued leaves that lure away The blush from morning skies; And fold each slanting evening ray Within your golden eyes. Now Silas treads the white roadsides That wind among the hills : For him a darling maiden bides, Behind the still old mills; And stooping in his awkward strides, His great rough hand he fills. Then when he turns him home, the way Is dark and sweet. The stir Of incense on the beaten bray 'Minds him of words that were : His heart bows low to mutely pray For worthiness of her. (70) friendship's fragrant fancies THE MOTHER. She is so little to have such a care, And far too timid to have people stare : She only tightens round her the old shawl, And bites her lips a moment — that is all. They say her son was hanged for some great crime, And that she thought him guiltless all the time; But sealed her lips, and labors — labors still, With the grim silence of a hopeless will. To her he was a little fellow yet — And they have wronged him : but she must forget. Her face grows sterner, and her eyes grow dull — How can the passers tell her heart is full? Heaven awaits her; and we cannot know But what she'll meet him there : she loved him so. (71) li-RIENDSHIP'S FRAGRANT FANCIES A DREAM DAY. Let us go forth to the old wood, Where oaks the storms of years have stood; Their russet trunks with moss o'erlald, The white thorn blossoming in the shade. We'll steal from time a truant day, As winsome as the early May, Mature as summer's fruitful prime, And golden as the autumn time. Let us go forth I And thou and I Shall greet the morn, ere yet the sky Is mellowed from its transient hue, Into a fairer deepening blue. Why, in these later years it seems The springtime lost its happiest dreams Through sterner moods; but just to-day The birds will sing their old-time lay. Let us go forth ! Illusions bring, A peace that seraphs may not sing; On, on into the summer noon, And reach the prime (perhaps too soon)'. (72) FRIENDSHIP'S FRAGRANT FANCIES There shall we find the fern wreathed brook, And thou shaJt read thy favored book — A summer rest for thee and me, Just as of yore 'twas wont to be. Let us go forth when day is done, And early sinks the autumn sun, Through fields where unbound wheat doth lie, Where poppies droop and swallows fly; And in the forest deeps grown sear, (For the sake of years that have been dear), Thou'lt say as in that happy past. Thou lovest but me — the first — the last. (73) friendship's fragrant fancies EVENING ON THE RESERVATION. Across the banners of the sinking sun A wild goose wings its solitary flight; And o'er the trackless sand the wolf dogs run Shaggy and hungered toward a wigwam light. The day is done; but still the glimmering rays Burn on the cactus edge; and high and drear The death cry of the Indian haunts the ways — Long drawn, remote ; it chides the listening ear. Oh, weariness of time upon the plains I Oh, stolid life that recks not what it hath ! A pale moon like a desert friend remains To guide my steps along the darkened path. (74) friendship's FRAGRANT FANCIES SHELL SECRETS. Low murmuring shell, what hue is thine, Didst steal at eventide The soft tints of the crested waves That in a moment died? Or was it from the coral beds, Or was it from the rose, Or from, perchance, some fairy flower That in the great deep blows? Low murmuring shell, what voice is thine That doth mine ear immerge? Is it the seagull's note subdued Or mourning Neptune's dirge ? Is it the mermaids' olden theme Of siren sorcery. Or is it but the shipman's song Still echoing o'er the sea? For once, the drowsy mysteries give That lay these countless years Beneath the cries of stricken hope And grief-baptizing tears. (75) friendship's fragrant fancies Hast thou not heard the tidings borne From the complaining earth, And tossed upon the maddened waves When signs of life were dearth ? Have trembling vows, in last farewell, Been plighted here unheard, And have the slumbering ages ne'er Responding cadence stirred? Soft! if thou art so grandly dumb I'll whisper fears of mine, And they will bear with secret woes The plenitude of thine. (76) friendship's fragrant fancies "COME UNTO ME." So poor the Master is, He hideth where His poor may come. And lo! these thousand years He gives to them a Saviour's chastening tears, And tender, mystic smile. In sorrowed prayer They kiss His hands, and lean upon His heart; And the great world — more poor indeed than they — Crowds outward to the open, sunlit way: How knows the world to choose the better part? So rich the Master is. His love will place A chaplet of rare pearls upon their heads; And blossoming beneath like lily beds Their rosaries will seem to interlace. Oh, weary eyes that read by tapers dim ! Oh, hungry lips remembering His thirst! You in His kingdom shall be praised the first — Thrice blessed souls — what heritage with Him I (.77) friendship's fragrant fancies THE HUDSON. From mountainous declivities The Hudson floweth down, And smiles at dawn and hurries on When twilight wears a crown. Pride of the sleeping centuries And prehistoric grown ! The stern browed peaks frown to its depths But still parental rise, And threat the leaden rolling clouds Like armies in the skies, And lull to rest in awful hours The burled chieftain's cries. Trees in o'erhanging eminence Their splendors lavish here, iWhat are the mellowed red and gold But thus to crown the year; And bear him down In royal robes Upon such honored bier. (78) friendship's fragrant fancies We even pass — vain short-lived men Like gnats before a light — Subjects of blame or care or fame We drift into the night; It furrows still through cliff and hill In immemorial quiet. (79) friendship's fragrant fancies GETHSEMANE. He passed into the heavy night Soul-sick, aweary, lone; The man-God with earth's myriad cares Weighing against his own. A grey mist wrapped the desert stars, Seaward the waves were still, And in the flowering date no stir Told of the night wind's chill. lYet on the dust His brow was pressed, And angels saw Him brood, While from His feeble heart there flowed The chalice of His blood. The thought's too great ! Our minds do err. We sleep with all the world! Forget us not, great prostrate King I Thy people are imperiled. (80), friendship's fragrant fancies Forget us not. E'en though we sleep, And Peter mocks Thy Name, The morning is at hand when we Shall read again our shame. When we shall read it on Thy cross; Within Thy upturned eyes; And in the heart that pleadeth still And drips — and drips — and dies. (8i) friendship's fragrant fancies TO MOTHER BERCHMAN. Jubilee Poem. "Who bides his time — he tastes the sweet Of honey in the saltest tear." God called her long ago, when life was keen Upon the path of hopeful beckonings : She had not tasted failure in the things Youth deems the best. So when her choice was seen They even, who had graver steps imperiled, Marveled she asked so little of the Vv'orld. She chose the lonely way but few may pass — So near to Christ they almost touch His hands; So dear to Christ that no one understands, Who dreams apart from them. How can the mass Of watchers read His eyes, Whose downward gaze Seeks only those that kneel in prayer and praise. (82) friendship's fragrant fancies Yet we, though far in grace, are near in love; And learn much from her dignity of mind, And this : that it is better to be kind. It seems she always knew us — always strove To think of us at best. So we are come And feel that being with her we are home. What can we tell of her? For all is wrought Upon her Master's heart; and who shall take From Him the cross she carried for His sake: The smiles when all went well, the tears which brought Her forth to faith ! Oh, each day's work and will The Bridegroom knew, but waiteth — waiteth still. Dear Mother! Retrospection joins our hands Across the distant past. Let us forget We might have kinder been; and then regret Shall counsel future years. And when the sands Of time drift low, still have a tender prayer For those who left the threshold of your care. (83) friendship's fragrant fancies JASPER'S LEAP. When Jasper leaped with wild desire Amid the British cannon fire, And placed their flag where it should be Above a rag of destiny; What cries rang out with wilder cheers And woke the dead, and gave them ears ! Why, faces dull in death before. Smiled at the rallying once more : In dying eyes upraised and dim He read how comrades envied him. Not that the hero was alone — But only first. Men had not known There was such joy in dying, 'till Their ensign lay displaced and still. Then, if their thousand hearts were met By ball and glistening bayonet They would have rushed upon their doom To save their colors from the gloom. Thus brave men die upon our sod — Thus love of country cries to God. (84) SONNETS. (8s) '^Jenoiic& friendship's fragrant fancies BEATRICE CENCI. With backward gaze upon a passing world Where love and name and beauty were imperiled, The tender mysticism of the eyes, A depth of torn affection still implies; And half reveals their pleading to the throng And half conceals their history of wrong: Yet raising the ecstatic poet's soul To thirsting transports knowing no control. Those mobile lips were surely made to smile (And so he thinks in musing there the while) A curve that might have been a smile amiss Lies like the shadow of a half-won kiss; And, oh, that brow I o'er which for days to brood, And madden him in yearning solitude. (87) friendship's fragrant fancies AT EVEN SONG. It is the hour which lulls the dying day When still the coral streaks the sombre grey; When still the amber beams above the way The sun hath ta'en: just ere the birds are stilled, But with a burst of farewell notes are filled. When moderating beauty oft hath thrilled The artist soul. Alack ! a truant wren, At eventide returning to the glen, Hath sent his fellows twittering again. Then from the gateway of the beaten path Floats down to me the merry milkmaid's laugh; What pretty ways the rustic sweetheart hath. The single star that trembles thro' the mist Reminds the tardy loved one of her tryst. (88) friendship's fragrant fancies THE RETURN OF MAY. Sweet Virgin May ! with nature's hidden charms Beneath thy raiment of celestial white, Thou, blushing with the knowledge of thy right To bear them, smiling, in thy tender arms. Thine ear must hear the secrets of each flower That trembles ere it blows upon thy breast ; Thine eyes must see that birdlings have their nest In sheltering crannies from the early shower. And thou wilt laugh with Laura as she saves Her dandelions to wreathe her grandma's head; And thou wilt walk with Grief as she doth tread In sorrow bowed amid the blossomy graves. Sweet Virgin May! with countless beauties bound — Queenly at day, at night all starry crowned. (89) friendship's fragrant fancies THE ELDERBERRY. Field loving flower of misty, milky white, The sunshade of some fairy dost thou seem : Flouncing above the shadows of some stream And trellised gaily with the morning light. The butterflies, all joyous, flutter there In mottled splendor, sipping sweets by stealth; At which the bee drones o'er its honey wealth And reels and circles in the noonday air, And ever wings away but to return, Asserting prestige where these idlers be, Pillaging summer nectar wantonly. At length its rightful ownership they learn And hasten from such grumbling, while the birds Tell of the conquest to far grazing herds. (90) friendship's fragrant fancies "MYSTICAL ROSE." Mystical Rose I blown on the world's dark breast And nurtured in this fretful vale of tears, With grace in challenge to thy own sweet fears And heart, anticipating, bowed and blessed. Thy fragrance incensed the blue spreading skies And crowned angels bending near the throne Did plead to name and bless thee as their own, And carry thee afar to Paradise. So we, bereaved in sorrow's deepest hour, Thro' Christ and Bethlehem still call to thee For solace in embittered misery, For some reprievement from a dreaded Power. And thou, our Queen, all purity and love, Dost ever bend to bless us from above. (91) , 1?RIENDSHIP'S FRAGRANT FANCIES AN OLD ROSE JAR. It stands breast high upon a quaint old shelf Of rare mahogany uniquely carved ; And from its height the morning rays are barred As if it chose the sombre nook itself. A rose jar I with the scent of crushed perfumes As soft as oriental spices waft, As rich as oriental nectars quaffed. The grandame says her choicest bridal blooms Had petals sifted in among the leaves; And then there comes the breath of lily tips With field flowers kissed by buried baby lips : A rose so blessed still for her laughter grieves — A precious incense permeating themes Of consecrated love, and vanished themes. (92) friendship's fragrant fancies [ABSENT. Still you're away. I'm almost weary now Peering adown the path at eventide; 'Twas thus you said you'd wish to claim your bride Where first was breathed and blessed our early vow. And here you said I must be watching, too, When you would come athwart the twilight skies; But often, dear, the distance cheats my eyes, And all the dread forebodings start anew. The thrushes wing about the old retreat, And from the crannies twitter to the morn, The clematis the grey walls doth adorn, And every vesper chiming falls as sweet. Yet musing here on you and them I prove Full many a time that absence deepens love. (93) friendship's fragrant fancies KING CARNIVAL. King Carnival is growing old, He leans aweary on his staff, And scarcely hears his jester's laugh — Now that the world is strange and cold. The rose-wreathed cup of ancient Ine Has bitterness in its last dregs; And for our tolerance he begs Who once was King when kings did shine. Men are not lost to jocund mirth And festive ribbons breezed along. Or violets pelted to the throng As when he revelled o'er the earth. And round him sinks the pageant's mold — For Carnival is growing old I (94); FRIENDSHIP'S FRAGRANT FANCIES A REVERY. It was in June. Hebe's sweet negligence Had strewn with countless blossoms all the plain — Had borne her messages of faith again In dead oblivion to the recompense Her wanton hopes must make in after days. All this we knew. Spring hath a mild deceit, A tender way of dreaming dreams replete Alike a maid who muses and delays. But yet, as it was need, we said farewell Even when earth was gladdest with her song. And every note was full intoned and strong As from a fairy laurelled bridal bell, The years since then have made a goodly lapse — Some day we'll meet again — perhaps, perhaps. (95) FRIENDSHIP'S FRAGRANT FANCIES GOLDEN ROD. In hazy August noons it shares the power Of quickened growth soothed by the evening dews That thro' the morning's sun and shadow ooze, And mint into a royal gold this flower. Then doth it crown the dusty roadside, where All other blossoms parched and pleading lie. And triumphs in the heat that bids them die. While in the current of the withering air Its soft plumes flaunt; and, kingly, doth it say: "Behold I lead an army that will come And crimson all the hilltops, and smite dumb The last surviving shrubs in the affray; Among the trampled and the thousand slain. The Troubadours of Autumn will remain." (96) friendship's fragrant fancies THE MARSEILLES HYMN. I thought I heard a million voices break In one accord to swell this battle hymn ! I thought the myriad visages grew grim And blood-veined eyes their vengeful fires did wake; That every heart impatient for relief Shook off the chains of bondage. There Is none So strong as slaves when freedom may be won — No despotism like that galled by grief. Did Liberty Infuse Into this song A heaven peace surcharged still with contempt? And picture hope which only madmen dreamt, With promptings of the damned to urge along — Oh ! was it thus — Or but the voice of one Goaded to triumph and Inspired alone I (97) friendship's fragrant fancies SUNSET AT NAPLES. The day sinks silently thro' vaporous aisles Of molten pearl and hazing amethyst ; While still a blaze of ruby thro' the mist Burns outward to the shore for lengthening miles. The hues spilled gorgeously along the skies To opal turn ; as nestling to the sun The wimpling waves go circling one by one, And all the soul is weighted with its sighs. Oh, never artist gave such beauteous scene : Nor poet satisfied his striving brain With fitting words that splendor to explain — Yon setting sun that crowns the ocean Queen. With westward gaze upon the closing gleams We float — and float in sweet Arcadian dreams. (98)' Ltf friendship's fragrant fancies WITH WILHEMINA. When Wllhemina pours the tea My thoughts brood o'er the mystery Of wilful v/Iles and sunlit smiles And pensive eyes where laughter lies. For each mood shows antipathy To that portrayed before, you see. When Wllhemina pours the tea There's none seems so demure as she: Her fingers seek the clear beleek While her brows press down a dainty frown ; 'Till I would prison her dear hand And from her love's long debt demand When Wilhemina pours the tea And finds me watching dreamily, Her eyes dance with a dauntless glance, And challenge seems to light sly gleams, Ere sternness darkens thro' and thro' Those orbs of deepest sapphire blue. (lOl) friendship's fragrant fancies When Wilhemlna pours the tea And hands the steaming cup to me, Her eyes sweep low, and then I trow Her downward gaze would vie in praise With Saint Cecilia's modest plea For sufferance to piety. As Wilhemina pours the tea, And I sit looking fancy free, I think how sweet 'twould be to greet This darling one when day is done: My home should be my shrine, and she/ Would be my heart's divinity. And who would not most envied be As Wilhemina's vis-a-vis? And what of years and what of tears There is no care but love may share. These thoughts come to my dreams and me As Wilhemina pours the tea. (102) friendship's fragrant fancies IN BLOSSOM TIME. And in the hedgeway Is the wild rose come, And in the birch, gay robin builds a home; The mountain stream tells how the heaven smiles- The same stream that an eagle wooed for miles. Yes, Time has led his loved one — Spring — apart, But all the world betrays his throbbing heart. (103) friendship's fragrant fancies A TWILIGHT SONG. White cottage in the ivy vines, Did she forget Whom here I met? Here where the deep wisteria twines And hollyhocks in martial lines Mark where we lingered our adieu, And she reached out a blossom blue, All dewy wet — Does she forget? .Oh> tell her by the purpled hedgi I now await My springtime mate. What is to me the trellised edge, If I hear not again her pledge? And what to me the twilight skies, Without the dusk of her sweet eyes? Oh, say I v/ait, Insatiate ! (104) friendship's fragrant fancies THE STORY OF A HOME. Dear old home ! all ivy grown and still, And solitary 'mid ancestral trees, What rural rests, what beaten paths were these Where sire and son have wandered at their will. The rose vine, now untrained, shuts out the sun From moulding windows closed this many a year, And mosses o'er the sunken stones appear To show where slow decadence has begun. As yet the path leads to the riverside, Where berried sumach reddens on the slope, And in its crimsoning would seem to cope 'With hues that are the maple's autumn pride. Great guarding elms shade the rustic seat Where dainty Ethel stitched the linen's edge. And chattered to the magpies at the hedge, Until they fluttered from their best retreat. (lOS) friendship's fragrant fancies But all is silent browed as yon churchyard : The wild flowers thicken o'er the gravelled way, The rooks' old nests are tenantless and grey, And fall anon upon the turfed sward. Why, there was once a time — they knew it well — When jovial folk found such a welcome here, The manor had grown famous for its cheer; And friends had reminiscences to tell Of early rides and heavy snow-bound sleighs. And afterwards of generous greetings where The warm light flooded to the oaken stair, And showed within the forest logs ablaze. One hears, too, of a prodigal's return In yule time, when the holly boughs were hung; How far along the winter night they sung And watched the embers into ashes burn. This son died young: you still may find his name (If you will lift the jasmine vines away). Deep chiseled in the stone. His mother lay Beside him ere the summer thrushes came. (io6) friendship's fragrant fancies Two girls were left. In varied silent ways (Like the twin spirits, Condolence and Love, Whose mission is approved by smiles above). They cheered their venerable father's days. The memory of his hopes was in his home ; For Sarah there some thirty years had known. Ethel was eighteen — like a blossom blown To bring back springtime to an autumn loam. While Sarah made for gravity defense And with maternal airs advanced her age; Sweet Ethel knew no dignity to gauge The winning artless grace of innocence. Sarah was staid and kind. She loved to share Her sister's life of blithesome vagary; Though still she kept the girlish beauty free From any touch of worriment and care. So Ethel's hair was plaited in soft braids, And was at night brushed out in vainest way Where, falling far below her waist, it lay Rippling and twirling in relieved cascades. (107) FRIENDSHIP'S FRAGRANT FANCIES Or It was bound, beribboned and brought high As in the portrait of some grandame fair, When she assumed the artful lady's air, And smiled to hear her sister's humble sigh. There is m girls a pretty vanity Which challenges reproach, and rather seems To win forgiveness for noonday dreams, And castles where their first awak'nings be. Thus Ethel's conscious way could not offend ; For any childing word of just rebuke Was softened to a smile of love, in sooth That carelessness should every mood attend. To Sarah's tolerant ear she'd ever say: "I'll marry rich and build our fortunes high, My rebel soul for eminence doth sigh": Then she would laugh. 'Twas easy to be gay. Her conquests still the villagers will tell (The older ones gone past their vintage years, And chafing time for all its dull arrears, By summoning these memories to dwell). (io8) friendship's fragrant fancies And scarce a week ago as I came down The dusty roadside, seeking shady rest, There where the apple trees are fruited best, A woman old, and angular and brown. Told me of Ethel and the one romance The placid hamlet boasts of; or at least The one event which never yet has ceased To weave an interest round the noble manse. She stated, with her contemplative sighs, How once an artist with some fair renown Came thereto from the distant red-walled town ; Partly because of former friendship ties. Partly to paint the daughters' portraits there, Where they in time would hold a rightful place With the progenitors of their proud race. And with their lineal children to compare. How then they opened the low window wide In advent of his coming; and made bright The home so long since curtained from the light, 'Till it resumed its former air of pride. (109) friendship's fragrant fancies And here, a fortnight following, they threw The great doors open to a merry throng That filled the halls with laughter and with song 'Till each one felt his kinship spring anew. How Ethel, in a cloud of misty white Went hither, thither, with her winsome smile, Encountering soft glances all the while, Yet missing something of the old delight. How was it strange her heart could be less gay Thus moored upon new moods? How was it strange A young man's praise her musings could derange In gentle pensiveness at odds with play? Her father thought: "Before the rose sees day The wayfarer must come upon the hills To rob it of Its morning. Love fulfills No blessings like the joys it bears away." And so the careless girl grew wistful eyed : New hopes did venture into unknown themes. And silent joy suppressed her wandering dreams — And yet, maid like, still oftener she sighed. (no) friendship's fragrant fancies There came the rosy evenings, and the grey Of twilight 'neath the terrace porticos; And star sown summer nights of calm repose When love portrays his promises of day. And ere the autumn blessed the passing year With purple girted grapes and golden pears, The country gossips paused amid their cares Because sweet Ethel's nuptial morn was near. Only a rustic who had loved her long Felt anguish dull and silent as his love; And vainly 'gainst his melancholy strove, When all the earth was caroling In song. She did not know; or if she did, forgot The awkward youth with glance that ever fell At stumblings in his words, which could not tell What in the humble eyes a grief begot. And she who was a child but yester eve. Quaintly affirmed the old patrician pride, And passed the manor portals as a bride With dreams of life e'en she could scarce believe. (III). PRIE NDSHIP^S FRAGRANT FANCIES Perchance it was the place was always old — But then her face was gone : the woman said The path grew wild, that through the arbor led, And winter snows lay trackless fold on fold. Yet afterwards came letters glad and sweet, With expletives of buoyancy and cheer, Touched with regrets they also were not near To make her life of happiness replete. And Ethel wrote the Artist never tired Of painting her as Helen or as Ruth — Or Hebe rose crowned ; everything, in truth. That fancy brought his musings and inspired. But then there came a time she wished for home. Full sixteen months had passed. (A thrush's lilt Is plaintive when the tiny nest it built Is jarred by wind.) She asked them would they come; And then as hastily she begged them not : She said she needed chiding for her mood, And wrote in playful way that she'd be good- Seeming to fear the kindness she had sought. :(ii2) friendship's fragrant fancies So, through the east wind and the fretful rain Her missives came like messengers of Spring; A letter Is a holy, tender thing When temp'ring thus our solitude or pain. And then she wrote in careless vein for days, Jesting in her familiar, loving tone; With just a hint of tears : naught else was shown. For still there were the same warm words of praise. At length the writing ceased ; and Sarah wrote And wrote in varied, earnest moods. Reply Came not. The winsome spring went by And summer hastened in with gladdened note. One morning ere the flowers absorbed the dew, Sarah went down along the trodden path, Where now the vine a tangled webbing hath; And clipped the freshest fleur-de-lis that grew In tyrlan pride against the wall's low jet; Remembering they had once been Ethel's care When she made triumphs as a countess there. And called them her plebeian coronet. (113) friendship's fragrant fancies Sarah turned citywards. A settled fear Bruising her heart; but she was always brave And backward turned, a hopeful hand to wave The father's lonely, anxious day to cheer. Shield not the north winds from your own ewe lamb Lest, when 'tis least prepared, 'twill lose its way And fall amid the briars of some bray Uncomforted, unsheltered and uncalm. Few grew the country gardens. Sarah saw The crowded, smoky buildings. Iron bound, Where dingy, noiseless sparrows fluttered round And ceaseless work was the unwritten law. And this was Ethel's home ! She whose warm heart Had breathed the rural air of purity, Brought to the city's vast obscurity And living with her memories apart. The elder sister's eyes suffused with mist; Her fingers tightened on the oozing flowers, Which seemed so hopeful In the noonday hours, But drooped their heads now, weary, on her wrist. (114) friendship's fragrant fancies She found at last the narrow winding stairs That led into a tenement abode, Where sorrow in her brooding had bestowed Her grimmest pride amid her grimmest cares. The story seemed so old. What deep regret Is hid from pity's touch. Grief is too stern; And in its throes we do not backward turn From shadowy days except in retrospect. The love had gone. The vacant room was dull, And echoless the dismal corridor: The love had gone, or sickened to the core With her whose life with promise had been full. A little babe in dreamy pliant rest Nestled beneath caresses of her cheek^ — The love had gone? Where children are, you seek Not vainly for the love God deems the best. Thus Ethel started at the steps delayed, And put the infant by, and dimly stared To see what visitor thereto had dared Disturb the sanctity this kinship made. (115) PRIENDSHIP'S FRAGRANT FANCIES Yet still she turned the smile her girlhood wore, And stretched her hands in her old pretty way; Then seeing clearer, stumbled forth and lay Wordless and pallid-lipped beside the door. And tears long welled in bitterness were wept, Flooding the breast surcharged, and sick and frail ; Until it seemed its very walls must fail, And silence reign where melancholy slept. So some hearts break, — and some keep on their ways. Yet feel a dearth of all the dear desires : 'Tis hard to fan the embers into fires Whose ashes scattered to the yesterdays. When they returned the night was in the skies, The father placed a taper near the pane That faced the upward pathway in the lane, To sign a benediction on their eyes. The kindly curious tongues could not reveal How they retraced the pathway to the door; And she who left but twenty months before From peering eyes her welcome could conceal. (ii6) friendship's fragrant fancies The lad grew like a cherub love : a child One ever sued for kisses. In his face They saw (though care had shadowed not Its grace), The reflex of his mother's, when she smiled. Stray school boys saw him crossing o'er the ways His grandsire went; now catching at his hand. Now issuing Imperial command. The worthy subject heralded In praise. The story runs that for long years she came — The sweet-faced woman, who though born to mirth, Seemed to forget the laughter of the earth In minist'ring in charity's loved claim. I found her name out there among the tombs. And village lovers breathe first longings there, And children lisp at times for her a prayer, Or form In wreaths the early jasmine blooms. I love to wander In the manor halls And tell myself that here upon the stairs She talked with him, and loitered unawares. That where the moonlight on the terrace scrawls (117) frien dship's fragrant fancies Its quaint devices in fantastic spells He placed a ring upon her slender hand; Bending to kiss the shining yellow band, And speak the words not e'en a gossip tells. That here, when they had gone, at length, a swain Brushed from his eyes the gathering tears, nor felt It was a bane to courage thus to melt In hopes It never had been his to gain. ^ Now silently she sleeps the summer through, As must we all — our tragedies at end. Thus earth and heaven for our love contend, And time blots out the worriments we knew. Alack ! how many Idle hours I spend In labyrinths of half-defined thought: Here, where of eager life there now is naught Save what a dreamer's Idle fancies lend. (1x8) friendship's fragrant fancies A BUNCH OF VIOLETS. An offering of violets; dear And misty-eyed do they appear, As if to hold a furtive tear. They have the orange blossom's spell, They hint of hopes, yet fears foretell — Each like a dainty purple bell. Oh, doubly dear ! For there is lent A mystery of sentiment — From whom, she wonders, were they sent ? It might be he who with her then Mounted the cliffs above the glen, The world is large — but if again — To-night she'll wear them in her hair. And with the throng its festal share. Perhaps he may be watching there. (119) FRIENDSHIP'S FRAGRANT FANCIES IN THE RED DEEPS. To Maggie Tulliver. In the red deeps where the sad cuckoo's call Is heard o'er the swish of the brook, and the fall Of dead elder leaves — ah ! long, long ago A promise was given so sacredly low, So joy-burdened there with faltering sweet The very wood songsters were loth to repeat. In the red deeps beneath love's twilight star With nought but the twit of the night bird to mar, They builded their future again and again In dim hallowed castles of far sunny Spain, Quite, quite content for their day star to dawn After the night of repining had gone. As yet her poor wavering spirit is here, Which cautioned such hope, and questioned such fear; Paternity chides from a premature grave. And a brother's slow anger for vengeance dotK crave. (120) friendship's fragrant fancies Her love goes to all and her will goes to none, iWhile the great eyes look out on the future alone. The years have flown ; but the tall willow grieves, The grey poplar mournfully scatters its leaves; The brook frets along its cool pebbled way, And winds thro' the shadow e'en in the day; And never a bird in happy unrest Wings upward in greeting its mate to its nest. In the red deeps must everything bend. As the starlight's pale opal beaming doth lend, To mark where a grave stands out in the light. And the cuckoo calls plaintively there to the night, For now the love of a life time sleeps In the red deeps — the forsaken red deeps. Sweet story ! a thrill of existence still stirs Their twin silhouettes among the scotch firs, The brown "little wench" and the lover hunch- back Are dearer by far for perfections they lack. Gentle Reader, chide not this theme of thy heart, And keep it tear dimmed from the others apart. (121) friendship's fragrant fancies DREAMING LONDONDERRY. In among the shaded waters Londonderry lies, Like a virgin queen reposing 'Neath the purple skies; But when convent bells are chiming Londonderry sighs. Here were once dull sorrowed evenings, And these shores grew chill, iWhen the sound of tramping armies Swept the heathered hill : Nature felt the stars grow colder, And the earth turn still. Murder dyed the waters crimson, Sickness hid in caves; And the cliff birds shrieked of famine Passing o'er the waves; But the peasant loves to tell you Virtue filled the graves. (122) FRIENDSHIP'S FRAGRANT FAN CIES Rest ye ! olden golden stories, Rest ye I heroes slain. Heaven's Prince will come among ye When the centuries wane. Memory of the past abideth, But the King shall reign. (i23) friendship's fragrant fancies HONOR. Something that Is most holy here below, Where men are wary with their hopes and fears; Where many a Judas smites his Master's brow And leaves him then to tyranny and tears. But honor still Is man's sweet heritage — The jewel of his soul. Who casts it out Finds himself poor indeed. Naught can assuage His after recompense — his bitter doubt. (124) friendship's fragrant fancies EN MASQUE. (His Version.) Scarlet carnations brushing Against my lady's furs; Tell me she too is blushing ,(My heart in rapture stirs) : I sent them, too — Can it be true She wore them at my asking? Oh, urgent fate I How can I wait At this infernal masking I Now in among the grouping Of most benignant palms, I find that I am stooping With all a lover's qualms. I bend to kiss — Jove ! what's amiss, And have I lost my reason? It is not she — But you'll agree All buds are sweet in season. (125) friendship's fragrant fancies (Her Version.) Oh, Clare, I scarce can tell you, 'Twas in among the palms [When I was resting : well you Know there are countless shams Of aching feet, Of light and heat, That make us seek the shadows ; To nothing say Of hands that stray And touch our own with sad "Oh's." [Well, it was there, behind a chair, A Cavalier came smiling — f(I promised Ned I'd meet him where The vines bend to the tiling) . But gracious me! It was not he I I did not know till after — And all night long Thro' dance and song I heard a stranger's laughter ! (126) friendship's fragrant fancies SHERMAN'S MARCH TO THE SEA. Steadfast, revered and grave, Monarch e'en 'mid the brave, O'er field and mountain cave, Sherman had gone. Shame swept the laggard then, Pride looked on what had been, Hope thrilled the weakest men When his eyes shone. Who claimed the fever burned? Who from the ranks returned? No man but onward yearned, Facing the dawn. Though gladdened or distressed, First on the foe he pressed. Last was his heart to rest 'Till he had won. (127) friendship's pragrant fancies His bones may sift with dust, His sabre redden with rust, But his diviner trust Lives on and on. (128) friendship's fragrant fancies MEADOW GOSSIP. A riotous bee got drunk at work (So swallows say That passed to-day) , And fell in a dandelion grey, An old one — not a bud of May; And buzzed and elbowed with awkward jerk To the drooping flower's dismay. A hundred sprites with gossamer wings Did straightway rise, To his surprise, And bar the sunlight to his eyes; And smother down his feeble cries ; Not caring a whit for probing stings And scoffing at his size. He stumbled out and wildly sped Across the lawn And on and on ; But myriad hosts were close upon, Under and round about his head. They found him thus in a clover bed In a filmy gauze at dawn. PRIENDSHIP^S FRAGRANT FANCIES CALL OF THE BLUEBIRDS. Dreamer, be gay, Drive care away And sorrow send a-maying; Is spring not here With blossoms dear. In hollow nooks essaying? Dreamer, be gay. Though gold or grey The skies of grave portending: Time with his scythe Hurryeth by. The darkest hour hath ending. Dreamer, be gay — There's always May For some heart grieved with waiting; If yesterday Hope went astray, To-morrow 'twill be mating With some new theme Or old-time dream: And, oh, the world Is bringing Its joys to you Across the blue Of earth and heaven singing, i (130) friendship's fragrant fancies AS TOLD BY, THE ROBINS. Of old, they said, when fair Narcissus bent His face of twenty summers o'er the brook His brain fell dizzy ; and the hue forsook His youthful cheek in one enamored look: Till down he sank, senseless of all, and spent With that reflected light his beauty lent. Then waxen flowers unknown before to earth There suddenly in clusters did appear, And made for him a snowy incensed bier; But each one held within its heart a tear. And having thus such grave and holy birth, Men ever since have loved them for their worth. We, too, knew a Narcissus — not as he, A myth of fevered fantasy extolled — But just a child and scarcely five years old, Who leaned with floating curls of clouded gold Above a brook which, clear as crystals be, Did mirror there the soul of infancy. (131) FRIENDSHIP'S FRAGRANT FANCIES He must have seen the vision therein flung And dropped in ecstasy: the zephyrs knew, And whispered to the robins, wondering too, How angels came with unseen flowers to strew. They found him where the tangled vines o'er - hung — Pure as the lilies that he lay among. (132) friendship's fragrant fancies KATE'S LITTLE GIRL. Kate's little girl is growing so, As cheery and elate, As quick to smile, as sure to soothe As sunshine loving Kate. But we would stay the coming years And crowd the memories by. For something hurts within the heart. And then we wonder why. We'd have her differ — just a bit, This motherless, wee girl: We would her brow were not as white, We'd change this wayward curl. Her laugh Infects a gloomy day, And yet our own Is slow, Kate's little girl is so like Kate — As she was years ago. (133) friendship's fragrant fancies SINCE YESTERDAY. (Alumnae Poem.) Since yesterday — and we have parted, all In our different ways. The moorings freed, We drift and drift, out and beyond the call Of oldest friends, perhaps beyond their need. But very sweet it is to "harbor in," Like mariners who row against the skies, In deepening dusk — to greet the waiting kin Or wave a blessing to the watching eyes. Sometimes to "harbor in" : the staid recluse To thrill at laughter from the worldly wise; The worldly wise, wearied a little, muse If all the brightness on the outside lies. And there are those who would give much to come If only that they might. But far away They know that we are gathering at home. And envy us communion here to-day. Since yesterday I and, oh, the things we've learned 1 How it were vain to wish for what we choose; How when our hearts are too unwisely turned 'Twere best, indeed, that we should fail and lose. (134) friendship's fragrant fancies How, vanquished, It were even brave and great To grasp the poor, poor pittance of a jest, And smile upon the world that bids us wait — As If to wait would give the longings rest. But we are now for happiness: to hear The old-time step, the glad return, and smile; And for the sake of hopes that have been dear, To talk in reminiscences awhile. A woman's life Is filled with many things: The gains of proudest effort may be few; But sometimes retrospection softly sings Since yesterday ! — and we have parted, all In our different ways. The moorings freed. We drift and drift out and beyond the call Of oldest friends, perhaps beyond their need. But when, on days like this, we "harbor in," Let all our best Impulses nobly plead, Let us be loyal to the past, and win The love of parting words: "Good-by, God- speed." (135) friendship's fragrant fancies THE JESTER. The jester In his ribbons yellow Was such a merry, careless fellow, There was a toast and happy laugh Whene'er he raised his bell-bound staff — ( 'Twas in the play, you know, Not truly in the long ago), But there were courtiers and beaux, And ladies fair and rival foes. Wine, and the candle glow. Oh, thoughtless wit ! oh, ready laughter ! The darkness and the quiet come after. No repartee within the pit. No echo of the leader's wit. The heavy portals close With here a ribbon, there a rose. Which lately kissed a gleaming shoulder Or withered in a smile grown colder, Or parting gift — who knows? But let us laugh Into the morrow. Until we have surcease from sorrow. Let us be jesters if we will, lYet keep a kingly kindness still ; (136) friendship's fragrant fancies Until the light burns low, And lips repeat the farewell slow ; 'Till watchers close the portal door, And say in whispers, "It is o'er," As in the long ago. U37) friendship's fragrant fancies CLIFF DWELLERS. What though the perilous paths are steep Here the Pueblo Chieftains sleep. The cliff birds circle o'er their heads, The trees revere their silent beds; And jutting ledges curtain in, The destination they could win. But who shall say what Vv^ider hopes Were builded in the rugged slopes? Whence came they ? To what elder day Dated the zenith of their sway? What weird affinity was theirs, Which made them to the forest heirs? They learned the heavens' fitful signs, And converse held with rugged pines. (138) FRIENDSHIP'S FRAGRANT FANCIES And each a botanist of wealth, Gleaned woodland lore in idle stealth. They heard afar the doe's light tread, And knew where paths as cautious led. They saw the eagle ride the wind, Which sent his clarion call behind. And life was sweet ere we had come To humble their primeval home. Then grew they doubtful of the stars — In lightning guessed the flash of wars. Was it so long ago? The earth Is solemn here, and censures mirth. The twittering birds a matin sing, The twittering birds their vespers ring. Save this, there is but quietude. Where dreaming souls like mine intrude. (139) friendship's fragrant fancies THE PSALMIST. Thence, from a labyrinth of grief he strayed Into the gold-grey morn, Scarce had the linnet found the thistle seed, Scarce was a matin borne; And yet the dreamer smote the quietude With restless words of scorn. Then something in the calmness bent his head And dragged his heart for cause ; And whispered "Patience, striving, fevered one," Yet who his counselor was, Nor man, nor child, nor bird, nor anything Could tell what made him pause. He swept his hopes aside : and light broke in 'Till grief seemed but a tide Of dreams. He felt the old, old weary world Rebuke him for his pride. And he went forth with sabbath In his soul, And angels at his side. (140) friendship's fragrant fancies IN AN OLD LIBRARY. The greatest minds, the sternest souls Have here their chosen home; And words from strangers coldly fall As kisses on the tomb. So often was the story penned From Holy Writ to him Who lately satirized the world From attic windows dim. Oh, themes of life ! Oh, shades of death I The secret's ever here — Affinity through centuries Doth trace man's smile and tear. And in such tender imagery The same regret is told — Smiles from the golden yesterday, Sighs for to-day grown old. (141) friendship's fragrant fancies BEFORE THE DAWN. 'Tis the eve before her wedding day, And lol beside an open grate, With Ned (dear, constant Ned) away She questions once again her fate. She has no friends to greet or shun, Only the forms of shadowy dreams. Who jest at her folly one by one. And whisper snatches of bygones themes. Beribboned bundles — half a score — Of letters wordy, and gay, and old. Strung with such sentences girls adore. And laid by gently, fold on fold, Are slowly thrown, one at a time, Upon the purple-flamed, silent coals. And caught up quickly — oh, the crime I This holocaust of wounded souls. (142) friendship's fragrant fancies The light now burnishes her hair, Now seeks the glamor of her eyes, Now slants across her shoulders fair, Now on her chin in quivering, lies. Oh, Ethel! could your fiance Thus see you play a dreamer's part, Would he so conqueringly say Your love is cloistered in his heart? 'Tis the eve before his wedding day. His mind is full of what has been; Of Ethel, — and Alice, and Dell, and May — When the chaps of the Chester Club drop in. The bottles are cold and their spirits warm. They clink their glasses to a toast; And of inward mirth and outward storm I give you my word they make the most. Some do chaff him on former vows. And rake up names and claims and whims, One to his own sweet self allows A story credit rather dims: While the lady afar, near the oakwood fire, Rises alone as the clock strikes ten. And turns away from the blackened pyre, But on the threshold looks again. (143) friendship's fragrant fancies' The lights at length burn low on one Alone beside the banquet board : Ah, well, for the day now just begun, Ah, well, for the smile in fine accord. Heighol dear, "constant Ned," you pay A tribute to the early dawn. The cups are drained — the east is grey, And long ago your guests were gone. X144) friendship's fragrant fancies APRIL FOOL. Oh, ho ! they laugh — the whirling winds- And tease to tears the truant flakes, That all forgot the vernal signs And tried to whiten wood and lakes. But April's bonny flowered head Reflects in many a wimpling pool. Till muddiest waters rippling trace Quaint letters spelling "April Fool." Like spots of sunshine In the vales, The dandelions' gold is spun, And through the blue the robin sails And calls his fellows — every one: Oh, life most gay and life most grey, The world is now instinct with love ; And life is quickened with the day, And peace illumes the skies above. :(i45): friendship's fragrant fancies RETROSPECTION. Betty looked so quaintly slender In among the garden pinks ; Even now, may God defend her ! I can see my queries send her Blushing thence : she slyly thinks That I'll fear I did offend her. Then, disconsolate, I chide her. As from out my arms she slips; And I follow close beside her, 'Till her grey eyes open wider As I bend to kiss her lips. Where the honeysuckles hide her. How I loved the little maiden In the heyday of my youth I Loved the smiles all sunbeam laden, And the walks that we have strayed in ; But she shall not know the truth. Nor of hopes my heart delayed in. (146) friendship's fragrant fancies For I cannot all forget her, Since she's married and away: Though I said in my last letter That she never could do better — Still I sighed for that May day When among the pinks I met her. (147) friendship's fragrant fancies THE LAST. The last smile is the best remembered one, The last song lingers longest in the heart, The last hope hath a sweetness just begun When we recall how life had there a part. The last flower that we saw along the way When Autumn leaves did almost make a mound .(That none should see how desolate its stay)^ Was brightest for the barrenness around. For everything is lost to that the most — The foothill terminates the blossomy path: The rest at eve doth still the noonday boast, And dusk's dim dream a solemn dearness hath. The last friend is the best; for he hath known The test of years wrought with our battle scars ; And we and he can tent at night alone Like Arab outcasts 'neath the desert stars. The last love is the best : whate'er is said, About the early moods our youth caressed : That heart that held a grief uncomforted In tender silence Is a surer rest. (148) ^ v^ ^ friendship's fragrant fancies DRINKING SONG. There's fame to win through the weary night From truths the sages have revealed — There's name to win in valorous fight, And laurels on the battle field. But here are rugged mountain friends, And here the rare October ale ; And here in the glow the firelight lends, Nor love nor faith doth ever fail. Sing till the wooden rafters ring (God speed the heroes gone), Goodwife, thy choicest vintage bring, For the night is wearing on. The yule log challenges the gale. The flames laugh at the wizard wind, As every man relates a tale That thrills the heart and wakes the mind. Deeds of the past the present dim; Yet who would bow o'er woes of yore ? So fill the glasses to the brim And drink to happiness once more. (149) friendship's fragrant fancies Sing till the wooden rafters ring (God speed the heroes gone), Goodwife, thy choicest vintage bring, For the night Is wearing on. (ISO) friendship's fragrant fancies TENNYSON'S DEATH. The Laureate sank beneath the tide of dreams In that calm hour when thro' the silent skies Come angels in their snowy winged guise For hearts aweary of the noonday gleams. The Laureate sank ; but turned his wistful gaze In full souled inspiration to the east; And mused, perchance, on being so released. Just as the moon rose o'er the autumn haze. He of the earnest, meditative heart, Had been a dreamer since his earliest days; When all the world had worn Byronic ways, And every one had voice and grief apart. And when his favored poet lay in death, "Byron is dead" was writ upon the sand; And on great oaks he carved it with his hand, And murmured it all day beneath his breath. (iSi) PRIENDSHIP'S FRAGRANT TANCIES iWe always felt that he did half conceal Some sadness, hidden from the eyes of men ; Though ever as we read we saw again The deeps that call to deeps in vain appeal. The Laureate sank; and death so softly swept Its sable pinions o'er the moonlit bed, They hardly knew his heart was stilled and dead, And by his side their lonely vigil kept. X152): friendship's fragrant fancies INCOMPLETENESS. Nothing is wholly sweet: The morning rose Shifts shivering on a breeze; the lily lends Its satiny robes to dust. Abide thou then With grief a little. Thy immortal crown Shall weave no thorns like those thy heart wore here. (153) friendship's fragrant fancies OCTOBER. The yellow mellow month is come, The rarest month of all the year, A sweeter breath of woodland balm Is borne to us — October's here I Imperially is she arrayed, Her royal vestments trailing low. The beauteous, golden queen of time That shames the tyrian purple glow. And as she treads the soft cool earth, With aerial step and lovely ease, A radiance of splendor dyes The amber of September trees; Till crimson, gold and russet hues Are blent in tapestries of haze. And all the human heart is stilled And filled with tender moods of praise. A listless, dreamy languor falls When Autumn's requiem chant is o'er. We gaze beyond to lengthening years, We muse on all that went before. (154) friendship's fragrant fancies So much is dead that once was dear; So many birds of home in quest, Now ride the wind above the trees — Poor little things, what wild unrest I Still merrily sings yon truant one, (A swallow in the maple shade), And bright the morn o'er woodland ways Where Aristaeus might have strayed: Or Fancy, in brief respite, charm A moment from the dying day; And then with drooping lashes steal The musing heart from care away. dss) friendship's fragrant fancies COMING OF WINTER. She steps in stealthily at night, The maiden witch in ermine cloak, A thousand sprinting stars at peep, Within her eyes; and at her stroke The fir trees turn a shaggy white, And chestnut boughs bemoan their plight; While with a laugh She strips the path Of pale-faced gentians asleep. She hath a cavalier — Jack Frost — They lay the fruit-hung grapevines low, And on the shrubs, uncovered still, A swift pulse-numbing breath they blow; And shake the pines at any cost. Nor care what stateliness is lost; And then freeze o'er The lakes — and more, Stray homeless sparrows do they kill. '(iS6)' friendship's fragrant fancies They powder the far-reaching plain, With sifted star-dust — so it seems — For in the morn, like gems alight. It hurts the vision with its gleams, 'Till dissipated once again. By dull November sun, which fain By kindly rays In purple haze Would set all saddened things to right. Alack! when forests feel the chill. The amber tints will surely glow. And with each sweeping northern wind, An avalanche of leaves will blow Their red and russet from the hill. And every vacant cranny fill; A pretty fix This witch's tricks Have served the earth, to sleep consigned. But on the levels of the corn. Where goodly sheaves so lately stood Like marshals of majestic rule. The keen winds pass with jibings rude; Or whistling down the rows forlorn. Reveal the gaunt decline for scorn; (157) friendship's fragrant fancies Until they choose Themselves, to lose Their dignity to frolic cruel. The bell above the steeple clock Breaks on the midnight with a fear, E'en so, no mischief will it share, And chimes out sturdily and clear; And thus its very self doth shock, At which the hollow echoes mock — What ho! who waits — Besides the gates Must now see sceptres everywhere. Yet do I love thee, Winter lass ! For thou dost bring the absent home; The summer lacks thy rugged cheer. And hearthside where the lost ones come. Sweep angry winds around the pass, Thy trackless snows in vain amass, They see thy light. Far thro' the night, That guides their eager footsteps home. (158) friendship's fragrant fancies LONGFELLOW. He was a gentle man of solemn thought: I do not know He ever harshly spoke, for peace to him Was sweeter so. His not the ruddy flame that genius stirs, But that which burns With steadier light for those across the seas And home returns. His not the soul to strive for courtly praise : One fireside friend To him were worth the plaudits of the world, Or lauded end. Yet generations hence, time still will see His honored rest ; And still the memory of the poet sage Be deemed the best. (159) friendship's fragrant fancies A PLATONIC LETTER, (A Deviation.) My Dear Tom : So you say at last Your bachelor days are all but passed, That you and Nell are to be wed. So kind of you to write, instead Of letting me from Bertha get The grand denouement. She'll regret She could not come with ill-shown grace And tell me, studying my face For hints of my apparent peril, Now, honestly, I hate that girl! Oh I I forget to tender you Congratulations that are due : For Nell's a dear, and quite the kind To make you happy. I've a mind To love her for your own sweet sake: Perhaps she would not care to stake Approval on such friendship. (i6o) FRIENDSHIP'S FRAGRANT FANCIES She Adores you, Tom, 'tis plain to see. A blonde, too! Think of the brunettes You used to number with your pets. Holmes says there are two kinds of blonde, And goes to show how he is fond Of one. Do you remember that?, You used to read the Autocrat. You've not forgotten how we made A promise 'neath the maple shade (Romantic, wasn't it?) that each Would tell the other when we'd reach The matrimonial stage. You wrote In consequence, of course, that note. Now Nell would say, perusing this. Ere the conciliating kiss Of peace, "What poor taste," then You'd say (most generous of men), "Oh, Dora's lovely, Nell, — although No girl is dear as one I know; A girl as fair as angels are." Etcetera. You are quick in war Of this kind. Always be discreet And make a sure and safe retreat ,(i6i) friendship's fragrant fancies Behind a rampart of wild praise — ;(Just as you used In the old days). How I run on I There's much to tell, But it will keep. My love to Nell ; I'm going to write a note to her, On different lines, as you'll infer. Receive, dear Tom, here at the end, Again, best wishes of your friend. P. S. Don't let your fiancee See this poor scrawl; she would be grey Within a week. Or she might cry — She knows not half. Good-bye, Good-bye. (162) friendship's fragrant fancies HIS THOUGHTS OF HER. Linger, maiden of the south! Your warm, bud-blown, scarlet mouth Belies the languor of your eyes: Could I anger there surprise, And fire the twilight centered disk, All but your pardon would I risk. Maiden, stay I For I would teach The youth's dear hopes, its depth, its reach ; And yet I would not first declare The vows of love — I'd have a care — I would not brush the dahlia's dew, Nor bruise a may bird's wing — would you ? (163) friendship's fragrant fancies BETWEEN LOVES. She ran along the dismal strand, And called against the storm, While cliff birds shrieked against the winds That lashed the seaman's form. Afar, her cabin window gleamed, It never seemed so dear, As thus with Seth's wee wistful face. Which to the night shone clear. Yet wilder than the storm, her heart — More powerful her plea; For still the crippled child at home And still the maddened sea ! Ah ! but he came, as oft before — Though neither tried to say Why he was saved, while other men Were washed ashore at day. (164) friendship's fragrant fancies "Come, wife," brave Donald cried, "I know Death rode the harbor then, But Seth should not be left alone For half a hundred men." And Seth before the sun arose Was out in idle play, Gathering up the yellow heads Of poppies on the bay. (165) friendship's fragrant fancies BLIND MILTON. iWhat were your aims, Philosopher of Dreams, When night came o'er your greatness : what the goal That roused your silent musings into themes, Pure crystallized from broodings of the soul? .Your strength would not be shackled to a grief That held your mighty heart from all it loved : Would not be mated to despair, though brief; But found resources hitherto unproved. And though your ears were purged with sounds of earth — The throstle's call in morning matin stirred, The dash of waves against the cliff — the mirth Of childhood to some sudden impulse stirred. Your lips were sealed by sorrow's weariest kiss, And dumb the longings of slow passing days, When nothing hurried, nothing went amiss But kept its gloom of suffering always. (i66) FRIENDSHIP'S FRAGRANT FANCIES Sometimes, perhaps, you asked the daughter there (So eager to assuage your lightest quest, She made solicitude e'en chafe your care) If there were not grey vapors in the west Predicting storm ; or if you erred to say The dusk had come, since birds had ceased to sing; Or if the flowers she plucked along the way Might not be the first primroses of spring. Anon you led her into stranger worlds, Dictating rhythmic measures to her pen, ; As one who with ethereal hosts imperils His right to pass with mortals here again. And on the solemn height of thought, the cries Of earth were hushed, and pain was not until lYour daughter peering in your sightless eyes, Found solace in bewildered tears and still. (167) JUL 7 t90^ LIBRARY OF CONGRESS lllillllllillllilllllll 018 392 029 7