Anna Heberton Ewimg 
 
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS, 
 
 Chap. Copyright No. 
 
 Shelf _' W-^7?*?~ 
 
 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 
 
(Reveries 
 
 ANNA HEBERTON EWING 
 
 C^(o sound is dissonant which tells of life— COLERIDGE 
 
 The Neale Co., Publishers 
 
 Washington, D. C. 
 
 mc m 
 
 I 
 
THE LIBRARY OF 
 CONGRESS, 
 
 Two Copies Received 
 
 MAR. 7 1901 
 
 Copyright hntry 
 
 CLASS (X-XXc. N». 
 
 COPY B. 
 
 
 Copyright, 1900, Anna Heberton Ewing 
 
Affectionately dedicated to my 
 
 Father, 
 
 George Heberton, 
 
 WITH ACKNOWLEDGMENTS TO 
 ENCOURAGING FRIENDS 
 
 A. H. E. 
 
PREFACE 
 
 In presenting this little book of Poems to the 
 public the writer realizes that for its success, it be 
 founded on the principles of truth, to assure its 
 power of giving pleasure. 
 
 It is evident that for many years the people of the 
 United States of America have been so absorbed in 
 commercial pursuits and the contemplation of the 
 beauties of the flash of the sword of battle, that they 
 have not properly valued the charms of poesy or the 
 beauties of art. Food for the heart and brain and 
 appreciation of the lovely gifts of Nature in adding 
 to the pleasures of the human heart the most valu- 
 able conceptions of the brain, have been seemingly 
 a lost and feeble emolument to them — not worthy of 
 care. The flowers strewn along our path should not 
 be allowed to wither and die ; but let us gather the 
 fragrance as we pass and absorb their sweetness as 
 dewdrops on the lyric blossoms, purity and love. 
 They are the faint touch of God's hand as He 
 blesses our way through the journey of life. 
 
 Poetry and art are ennobling to the soul of man, 
 and should have a place in the deepest recesses of the 
 
heart. This truth will not be denied by any one 
 who gives them careful study and contemplation. 
 
 There are a great number of ancient poems, but 
 the difference in the dialect at the time they were 
 written, and that and the language of the present 
 day even in the country in which they were written, 
 and their dialect of the present day, renders these 
 poems almost valueless to the people. Even the 
 old English has changed, until some of their great 
 poems are scarcely, if ever, read at the present time. 
 Milder and more competent judges have set no bar 
 to the poetry of the present day in America, Eng- 
 land or the Latin countries. More than twenty-five 
 hundred years have rolled their ample rounds since 
 that gentle woman poured out, like the song bird, 
 her immortal song on the little island of Lesbos, in 
 the ^Egean Sea ; and yet how few remember even 
 the name of her husband or daughter. Still, in 
 what nation or country has the name of Sappho 
 been forgotten. She is still the Grecian poet, who 
 has left a name immortal. 
 
 When the people of our country give reasonable 
 support to the writers and publishers of books of 
 poetry, there will be abundance of talent in that 
 line displayed in America to satisfy the world that 
 America has plenty of poetic genius to fully cope 
 with the age. Alson ^ B ^ Y 
 
 Washington, D. C, 
 
 October 20th, 1900. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 A Farewell 26 
 
 A Glance roj 
 
 A Lost Ideal 88 
 
 A Prayer 7^ 
 
 A Rift 27 
 
 A Scar 80 
 
 A Shield 108 
 
 A Strawberry Wise 70 
 
 A Tender Hand too 
 
 A Year Ago 60 
 
 A Zephyr jo 
 
 Adieu, Last Star 106 
 
 Age's Snow 96 
 
 An Angel Voice 31 
 
 An Answer to "Parting'''' 84 
 
 April Days 8j 
 
 Art Subjugated 75 
 
 At Set of Sun 2j 
 
 At Seven 53- 
 
 Baby Boy 29 
 
 Beyond Our Ken 26 
 
 Charm 7/ 
 
 vti 
 
Chords 34. 
 
 Clouds 62 
 
 Companionship go 
 
 Confidences 77 
 
 Daffodil 80 
 
 Discontent 6j 
 
 Disillusio?ied , g8 
 
 Dreams go 
 
 Echoes 102 
 
 Edna 86 
 
 Eleanore 11 
 
 Fame 58 
 
 Florence 34 
 
 Friendship 63 
 
 Greetings 30 
 
 Guitar Song . . 82 
 
 Hadst Thou Been There 66 
 
 His Meaning 65 
 
 Hitman Nature 82 
 
 Impromptu . . . • 58 
 
 Inspiration 72 
 
 In Solitude 95 
 
 Jack's Wife 103 
 
 Janice 62 
 
 Joy 34 
 
 Leona 32 
 
 Lily Bell Chimes 86 
 
 Lines gi 
 
 Love' s Awakening 25 
 
 vtn 
 
Love Blossoms 33 
 
 Lullaby 68 
 
 Memory's Sea 88 
 
 Moonlight Musings 7& 
 
 Mrs. Brownie 6i 
 
 My Stveet 9 1 
 
 My Sweetheart 79 
 
 None But the Birds 7 s 
 
 Not Forgotten 9 2 
 
 "Now the Day is Over" . 56 
 
 O Follow Me 55 
 
 One Grief 59 
 
 One Nook 97 
 
 Our Tree $5 
 
 Overlooked io 7 
 
 Pure Joy 63 
 
 Relinquished 69 
 
 Repose 2 9 
 
 Resignation 27 
 
 Reverie 35 
 
 Rhapsody 57 
 
 Saucy Red Robin 93 
 
 Shall We 109 
 
 Some Solace Sweet Creating 80 
 
 Spray 7° 
 
 Tears . 61 
 
 Tenderness 81 
 
 The Daisy Dell 94 
 
 The Dying Day 99 
 
 tx 
 
The Leaves Turn Red 73 
 
 The Legend of Lake Toledo 36 
 
 The Mask ior 
 
 The Organ' s Message 28 
 
 The Rolling Sea 74 
 
 The Scales of Life S3 
 
 The Wild Rose Blushes 66 
 
 Thy Slav a Crown 64. 
 
 To a Friend 31 
 
 To a Friend no 
 
 When Thou Art Near 104. 
 
(Reveries 
 
 ELEANORE 
 
 PART I 
 
 The ball-room at ' ' Dorne ' ' had been gorgeous that 
 
 night. 
 When the guests were all gone and low was the 
 
 light- 
 Where recently brilliant had been the scene, 
 With rare jewels' brightness and satin's rich sheen, — 
 A broken ear-ring la}' lost on the floor, 
 And some crushed flower petals anear the door 
 Were dying and sending their farewell perfume 
 To their still fresh companions across the room. 
 Silence reigned. Not e'en the faintest sound 
 Stirred to break the stillness profound — 
 But a little while since both song and cheer 
 Had each in turn filled the large space here. 
 One singer, a tenor, whose voice held the spell 
 Of power and beauty; sinking to swell 
 In the hearts of his hearers, as well as in tone, 
 Had found in the heart of a maiden his throne. 
 
Now in the dimness, at hour of three, 
 A foot-step is heard, quick, bold and free, 
 Through the spacious halls, the owner's tread — 
 Then his voice: " Ha, Monsieur, I thought you in 
 
 bed." 
 The answer came in a rich, low tone : 
 " By your kindness, Lord Horton, I room alone, 
 And disturbed I none, then, by slipping out 
 To rid me of wakefulness, strolling about." 
 " Very well, use your pleasure ; good-night tho'. 
 Lady Horton awaits, I really must go." 
 The Earl closed his door. Le Tiers moved along, 
 Entered the ball-room humming a song. 
 Low was the tone, yet so high was his art 
 That it pierced the silence — this song of a heart. 
 Then slowly he lighted a taper he 'd brought, 
 And sought about wildly, like one distraught, 
 'Neath potted plants, piano and harp, 
 'Til with a cry, exultant and sharp, 
 He saw in the distance the fiery gleam 
 Of the ruby trinket — in truth 't would seem 
 A star had dropped at his earnest request, 
 Or his lonely life been most suddenly blessed. 
 Then amazement lighted anew his face, 
 For a foot-step was heard near the silent place. 
 And there, just standing within the door, 
 Was the Earl's fairest daughter — Eleanore. 
 The light from a tiny candle she bore 
 Made her grave, sweet face seem all the more 
 
L,ike chiselled marble, pale in the gloom 
 
 From the back-ground of darkness outside the room. 
 
 She had come to look for the jewel so dear 
 
 To her woman's heart ; had heard with fear 
 
 The hoarse, sharp cry ; had stood quite still, 
 
 Lacking the power to move, — or the will, — 
 
 When across the dimness once more she heard 
 
 That tenor voice, sweeter than viol or bird. 
 
 She put down the candle as one in a trance, 
 
 And, with hands clasped together, began to advance 
 
 Slowly down the now gleaming floor 
 
 Where the light paved a way from the sill of the door. 
 
 I,ike a creature of other than flesh seemed she, 
 
 With her glorious hair almost to her knee 
 
 And eyes so brilliantly, dazzlingly bright 
 
 That they lent her rare beauty a splendor and might. 
 
 L,e Tiers spoke softly as she drew near : 
 
 " Thy father allowed me to wander in here 
 
 Because I was sleepless, my lady so fair. 
 
 By my faith, but this taper a' most burned thy hair ! " 
 
 "Ah, Monsieur has blown out the tiny light ! " 
 
 ' • Yes ; to save thy tresses — their radiance bright 
 
 Will light up the darkness. Compared to thine eyes, 
 
 The candle off yonder is but a surmise 
 
 Of brilliancy. Felt thou, then, sleepless too 
 
 That thou cam'st to the flowers to hear what to do ? 
 
 They have been telling my fortune to me, 
 
 And each one has whispered a new thought of thee." 
 
 " Oh, Monsieur ! I pray thee, cease speaking of me. 
 
 '3 
 
When thou dost sing one may listening be, 
 But words are great monsters, leave them by. 
 I came to the ball-room that here I might try 
 To find my sweet ear-ring — the stone is red, 
 A ruby once owned by my sister, now dead." 
 " Yes ; I saw the fall of the jewel thou 'st lost 
 And determined to save it at e'en great cost 
 Of rude misconstruction upon my acts — 
 But of good will my motive nothing lacks. 
 Thy ear-ring I came to this spot to find, 
 And meeting thy father, I had it in mind 
 To tell him to go and secure thy treasure, 
 But I greatly desired for myself the pleasure 
 Of holding the truant. Watched I not well 
 Lady Eleanore's movements to note when it fell?" 
 " A heart full of thanks, Monsieur ; 't is true 
 Thou hast done me of services now not a few. 
 Each song from thy lips has found its way 
 To my mem'ry of mem'ries — there to stay. 
 Sing others, ere leaving to-morrow, they '11 burn 
 In my mind till my father shall bid thee return." 
 Her face was as white as the new-fallen snow 
 As his eyes met hers when she turned to go. 
 "Since thy kindness thou dost graciously show 
 O'er my songs, they all from my heart shall flow, 
 Lady Eleanore ; passing my lips always 
 As songs to thy beauty, songs to thy praise." 
 Le Tiers placed the jewel in her dainty hand 
 And bent low to kiss a broad diamond band 
 
 14 
 
Which encircled one of her fingers fair — 
 
 To touch the soft flesh he did not dare. 
 
 The thought in his gesture Eleanore felt 
 
 As well as his love. Did her clear look melt 
 
 In spite of all dignified bearing ? She gave 
 
 Him a glance that many a gallant would crave. 
 
 Then turning, she swept down the ancient halls 
 
 Beneath the portraits that lined the walls — 
 
 Paintings of earls and lords a score, 
 
 And their ladies, ancestors of Eleanore. 
 
 In her hand she clasped the crimson stone 
 
 So tightly it cut a' most into the bone 
 
 Of the self-same hand, where, shining bright, 
 
 Was the ring that Monsieur had kissed that night ; 
 
 That ring which all in her caste were aware 
 
 Meant that she the great name of Furoci would bear 
 
 As the bride of the count (ere a year would wane), 
 
 Who had from his travels returned again. 
 
 PART II 
 
 In her chamber above, with dreamy young face, 
 Sat the Earl's second daughter, the L,ady Grace. 
 A song in her fancy was sung o'er again 
 Till it filled all her life, as it filled her pure brain. 
 And now that the voice could softly be heard 
 Humming below without motif or word, 
 
 15 
 
The air seemed alive with a myriad of tones 
 That appealed to the heart in rapturous moans. 
 The gentle maid listened ; a deep, rosy glow 
 Spreading up to her forehead. Whispered she low 
 With dimpling smiles, " Can it be true 
 That he sings 'neath this window, my fancy to sue? 
 He has the bearing of princes and earls 
 And a new panorama of love he unfurls. 
 With one tone of his voice, one look of his eye — 
 Yet because he'sa commoner he must pass by. 
 My father's guests he must well entertain, 
 Then leave — and mayhap not return again. 
 Ah, me ! " Then she paused and moved to her door, 
 For she heard the soft tread of the proud Eleanore, 
 Who passed on unheeding — nor smiled she nor turned. 
 So Grace remained silent, tho' greatly concerned 
 Lest ill had befallen her sister, the queen 
 Of all women on earth that sweet Grace had e'er seen. 
 To her, Lady Eleanore' s joys, hopes and fears 
 Were matters of feeling for laughter or tears ; 
 Not one in the world could more easily trace 
 Fair Eleanore' s thoughts than could sweet Lady 
 Grace. 
 
 The day dawned in splendor of sunshine. The snow 
 Lay over the ground, and it sparkled so 
 In response to the warmth of Sol's caress, 
 Yet remaining too cold for real tenderness. 
 The house guests assembled for five-o'clock tea ; 
 
 16 
 
All were there present — nay, all but three. 
 
 (To use their pleasure throughout the morn 
 
 But assemble at five was the house rule at "Dome.") 
 
 Lady Eleanore's absence with Lady Grace 
 
 Sent a look of amazement o'er every face, 
 
 While in tones decided the Earl's command 
 
 Rang out to the butler, "James, this note hand 
 
 To Monsieur ; my compliments, and request 
 
 That he join us here now at my behest." 
 
 Some moments later Le Tiers, with a bow, 
 
 Entered and said, "Some music is now 
 
 At thy command ; pardon, I pray, 
 
 That packing has kept me so long away. 
 
 To-morrow in London the ' Nibelung Ring ' 
 
 Is commenced, in which I 'm obliged to sing, 
 
 As thou knowest, Countess. Which shall it be — 
 
 The farewell song I shall sing for thee ? ' ' 
 
 Then flooding the mansion from centre to stone 
 
 Rang out each melodious, bell-like tone. 
 
 In the midst of the singing, with slow, soft pace, 
 
 There entered the room the Lady Grace. 
 
 Her face was sad, from her lips was fled 
 
 The girlish smile and the blood's young red ; 
 
 And followed was she by the regal form 
 
 Of proud Eleanore — in calm or in storm 
 
 Able alike with deportment of ease 
 
 To meet each demand on her power to please. 
 
 "The harp, with Monsieur's beauteous voice," 
 
 Was the next in the eager company's choice, 
 
 17 
 
And smiled they all when most graciously 
 Fair Eleanore deigned to agree 
 The chords to play for Monsieur Le Tiers. 
 That her heart sang with him, who was aware ? 
 
 When in the flow of most marvelous tone 
 
 The company was wrapped, there came alone 
 
 Into the music-room a guest 
 
 All unannounced, as if in quest 
 
 Of certain welcome. A joyous smile 
 
 lighted his handsome visage, while 
 
 He bowed to his hostess and then in haste 
 
 Moved towards Eleanore, not to waste 
 
 A moment in staying from by her side — 
 
 Two years had he lingered away from his bride. 
 
 Slowly she lifted her dream-weaving eyes — 
 
 Then clash, made a discord in pained surprise 
 
 At the sudden appearance of Count Furoci, 
 
 And with her whole being she longed to — be free ! 
 
 In an instant her glance so strange and set 
 
 Changed to a look of soft, friendly regret, 
 
 Then playing on with most steady care 
 
 She bowed to her lord — and bowed to despair ! 
 
 The song now ended, greetings ensued, 
 Despite which honors the Count seemed subdued, 
 And with an expression earnest and grave 
 Declined all refreshment, asked nothing save 
 
 18 
 
To beg but a moment alone with the maid 
 Whose greeting had made him for love feel afraid. 
 " One second," she whispered, " wait till I say- 
 Adieu to Monsieur — I so poorly did play 
 His accompaniment simple. Go thee ahead, 
 And I then will follow wherever thou treadst." 
 She paused near L,e Tiers, and, as if in adieu, 
 Said, " Delay thy departure an hour or two." 
 He wondered at hearing the gentle request 
 And consented to do whate'er she thought best. 
 Then to the garden fair Eleanore turned. 
 Her soft hand trembled, her proud face burned. 
 On the pathway was waiting the Lady Grace, 
 Who, with tearful eyes, searched Eleanore' s face. 
 "Dearheart, " she cried, "well do I know 
 Thy love doth not now in the right channel flow. 
 Unhappy myself, how much more for thee 
 Do my sad tears fall o'er thy misery." 
 ' ' Nay, Gracie, thy day for grief is not nigh ; 
 See, I can smile, so why shouldst thou cry ? ' ' 
 
 PART III 
 
 Right bravely spake fair Eady Eleanore. 
 Moving on, she found — in but one moment more 
 Herself in the Count's most loving embrace ; 
 Then shrank she from him. His noble face 
 
 19 
 
Flushed crimson ; he loosed his trembling hold, 
 
 Then said he gently, in voice controlled : 
 
 " May I speak, Eleanore, of the change that took place 
 
 In thy sweet expression — at sight of my face? 
 
 'T was as if thou started in fear and in pain, 
 
 And I dread that my absence has been some one's 
 
 gain. 
 If indeed I 'm not first, dear one, with thee, 
 Thou needst ask but once for thy liberty. 
 Question I not my heart's fiancee, 
 Thy bidding is all that I ask thee to-day." 
 The Count stood with lofty bearing, tho' he 
 Turned to marble-white with intensity ; 
 While Eleanore realized anew 
 His grandeur of nature — shared with but few. 
 Too late, however, this new-born thought — 
 He had left her alone, her heart untaught. 
 With another she 'd entered love's sphere, untrod; 
 To another she 'd turned in the sight of God. 
 And thus spoke she : "In truth 't is meet 
 That my father's daughter should be discreet. 
 I will fairly tell of my feelings for thee, 
 But will say naught more — tho' more there be." 
 Her sweet voice faltered, but high — instead 
 Of bending — held she her haughty head ; 
 Her eyes again filled with that sad regret 
 As with gentle candor his own they met. 
 " Count Furoci, I dreamed not what was meant 
 When I gave to our troth my girlish consent. 
 
Since then, in thy absence, I 've learned to know 
 
 That like one's mind, one's feelings can grow. 
 
 I owe thee thanks, hold thee truly dear 
 
 In friendly regard — but let it be clear 
 
 That my love can never be won by thee, 
 
 Tho' my promise I '11 keep in' all constancy." 
 
 " 'T is enough," said the Count, "I leave to-night. 
 
 May thy life be filled with peace and delight." 
 
 He quickly bowed and as quickly withdrew, 
 
 While Eleanore, moved by instinct true, 
 
 Silenced the beating of her heart 
 
 And hastened away that she might impart 
 
 A warning to L,e Tiers — that he take 
 
 His departure ere the storm should break. 
 
 And so she wrote with a steady hand : 
 
 "Monsieur, I beg thee — nay, I command — 
 
 That, for a reason best known to me, 
 
 In an hour's time thou afar wilt be. 
 
 May heaven's blessings attend thee ever 
 
 In all thou achievest in earnest endeavor. ' ' 
 
 Scarce had an hour passed ere she 
 Was sent for to come to the library. 
 Here stood the Earl with deepening frown ; 
 His wife, in tears, on the couch lay down. 
 Her son attended the Countess with care, 
 But none had a smile for Eleanore fair. 
 Count Furoci came forward with noble grace, 
 Saying, " Pray let me answer all in thy place." 
 
Then turned he to the enraged Earl 
 
 Whose eyes flashed fire o'er lips' proud curl. 
 
 ' • Friend, I beseech thee, end this scene ; 
 
 Nor blame that something has come between 
 
 Our cherished wishes — say me nay 
 
 And thou but hasten my steps away." 
 
 " Count Furoci," the maiden began — but the Earl 
 
 E'en most shouted, " Is this true, girl, 
 
 That thou canst thus thy promise break 
 
 For some unworthy scoundrel's sake ? 
 
 Wilt thou the first of thy long line be 
 
 To lower our pride of ancestry ? 
 
 For know I well the name he bears 
 
 Who for thy love and favor dares — 
 
 A name unheard except in print 
 
 Of opera programs, tin seV s glint ! " 
 
 Oh, never could the wrath and scorn 
 
 Within his tones be penned — or borne ! 
 
 Eleanore's strength at last gave way, 
 
 Her head fell back, her form's first sway 
 
 Was noted by the Count, whose arm 
 
 Had caught her ere he gave alarm ; 
 
 While the weeping countess dried her tears 
 
 And worded many tardy fears. 
 
 The Count departed. In his stead 
 
 There entered now, with manly tread, 
 
 L,e Tiers. He calmly met the eyes 
 
 Of all — now silenced with surprise. 
 
 " Monsieur L,e Tiers is nowhere here," 
 
He coldly said, " it would appear. 
 
 A tragic moment, Earl, 't is true, 
 
 If came Le Tiers to say adieu. 
 
 In honor of my favorite art, 
 
 Music, have I but played a part 
 
 Of late in the world's artistic eye. 
 
 Enough of that ! Now pass it. I 
 
 Am, by right of birth and lineage, last 
 
 Marquis of Luon, et Due d'Gaste. 
 
 As suitor for thy daughter's hand 
 
 I offer rank and love and land. 
 
 My singing, which won sweet Eleanore's love, 
 
 However, in value I count far above 
 
 My ancestral worth, my mansions complete, 
 
 And I lay it, with them, at my fair lady's feet. 
 
 The Earl and his son at one another 
 
 Gazed, as if they still wondered whether 
 
 Le Tiers was raving and they the same. 
 
 Then a gentle sigh from Eleanore came. 
 
 The Countess — well versed in family lore — 
 
 Was astonished and charmed all the more, 
 
 For the fact that she knew he spoke the truth. 
 
 Here was a tale to tell forsooth. 
 
 She had heard of, o'er many a cup of tea, 
 
 The hermit Due of French ancestry 
 
 Who never was seen, of whose regal estate 
 
 (Sites in three countries) travelers relate ; 
 
 And here he was standing, king of romance, 
 
 A great name in art — a Marquis in France. 
 
 23 
 
The Countess glanced at the pale Eleanore, 
 
 Then arose and crossed the polished floor. 
 
 " Monsieur L,e Tiers, — nay, Marquis, Duke, — 
 
 We do thee all honor, ourselves rebuke. 
 
 Come with me, my husband ; come, my son, 
 
 'T is time our Kleanore's joy begun. 
 
 Duke, I beg, if she answers not nay, 
 
 Thou among us feel most welcome to stay. ' ' 
 
 The Earl turned slowly and shook his head, 
 
 " 'T is ever an evil moment," he said, 
 
 " When a lad forsakes his heraldry 
 
 For a thankless world — and celebrity. 
 
 But thou to a most illustrious name 
 
 Have succeeded in adding both worth and fame." 
 
 So speaking, he softly left the room 
 
 Where disaster had threatened to be love's doom. 
 
 And the nobleman bent o'er the blushing girl : 
 
 "Oh, true heart; oh, brave heart, my senses whirl ! 
 
 I 've finished my life of publicity, 
 
 And I dedicate, sweet, the same to thee. 
 
 May I claim my noble darling to wife ? 
 
 Ah, I see in thy face, thou art mine for life ! ' ' 
 
 24 
 
AT SET OF SUN 
 
 The sea has a million waves, 
 
 The lakelet, none ; 
 So my heart with anguish raves 
 
 At set of sun. 
 
 Life, like a river, flowed 
 
 Happy and free ; 
 Love on its torrent glowed 
 
 Brightly for thee. 
 
 Joy smiled a million ways, 
 
 Night has begun ; 
 Love perished with the rays 
 
 At set of sun. 
 
 LOVE'S AWAKENING 
 
 Some of the languor of Italy's child, 
 
 Some of the warmth of the Orient's skies, 
 
 Some of the gleam of a tiger's wild 
 Has crept into ni)' rose-bud's eyes. 
 
 Some of the shyness of a bird, 
 Some of the witchery of a maid ; 
 
 A softer tone in the turn of a word 
 From my Rose's lips, and all is said. 
 
 25 
 
BEYOND OUR KEN 
 
 Stars and stars o'erlace the sky 
 And each to us a mystery. 
 We plume us in our earthly lore, 
 But know than tin}' babes scarce more 
 Of that infinite, Godly dome 
 Where the bright stars find a home. 
 
 A FAREWELL 
 
 Farewell ! Mine eyes will follow thee 
 In mind across the restless sea. 
 Where'er my thoughts are, thou'lt be there 
 In circles gay or hours of prayer ; 
 And if one jot of good I own, 
 If any seeds of might I 've sown, 
 Upon thy head the crown will lie, 
 Unless thy hand should pass it by. 
 Farewell ! Thy face is pictured here 
 Within my heart. Thy kind words, dear, 
 Re-echo throughout my life to bless 
 The future in its loneliness. 
 Let some thoughts upon me dwell ; 
 They '11 gratify, thou know'st well, 
 Their distant subject. Fare thee well ! 
 And in thy heart contentment dwell. 
 
 26 
 
A RIFT 
 
 Wouldst thou, then, my hand unclasp 
 While holding thine in gentle grasp ? 
 Wouldst thou have thy moments free 
 From companionship with me ? 
 My heart, indeed, is not a stone ; 
 Its tenderness is plainly shown — 
 Too plainly ! Once we saw the day 
 When all the world had to give away 
 Unto thy love — thy love for me ! 
 'T is but a semblance now I see 
 Of what once was. Must I, too, fall 
 From our love's delightful, gracious thrall ! 
 
 RESIGNATION 
 
 What peaceful hours were once enjoyed, 
 How sweet their memory still ! 
 
 But they have left an aching void 
 The world can never fill. 
 
 What now remains is vaster, far, 
 Than could be what we 've missed. 
 
 The rod was but a blessed bar 
 That must be humbly kissed. 
 
 27 
 
THE ORGAN'S MESSAGE 
 
 The organ recital was nearing its close, 
 
 And at the keys was one who, if he chose, 
 
 Could use the rare power of throwing a spell 
 
 Of mystic persuasion into the swell 
 
 And fall of the organ's message — that we 
 
 Should shape our lives for Eternity. 
 
 The organist drew forth sounds divine 
 
 As if in prayer at the Holy Shrine ; 
 
 The dusk of the hour lent its lofty aid 
 
 And a deeply religious impression made. 
 
 Stained glass windows — red, purple, blue — 
 
 Gave, by their warmth and richness of hue, 
 
 An added beauty, and fitting might 
 
 To the last adieu of the dying light. 
 
 Up to the dome the music soared, 
 
 And into our innermost senses poured 
 
 Like a deep, oily river of harmony, 
 
 Drawing us on to what we should be. 
 
 The chords grew softer, then whispering, ceased ; 
 
 The colors dimmed, the dark shadows increased ! 
 
 The organ closed, vast silence reigned — 
 
 A soul has been lifted and peace regained ! 
 
 28 
 
REPOSE 
 
 What is it to smile if tears are near ? 
 
 What is it to stem the tide of fear ? 
 
 What to trust with a mighty heart 
 
 Through distracted moments ? The life-taught art 
 
 Of self-control ! The death-taught art 
 
 Of repose 
 
 BABY BOY 
 
 Little hands with strengthening grip, 
 Great round eyes that shine ; 
 
 Tender feet that sometimes trip 
 Over shoes like mine. 
 
 Dainty, fluffy frocks and such, 
 
 Pure as a white rose ; 
 He cares not for laces much — 
 
 See that saucy nose ! 
 
 Naught too good for thee, small man ; 
 
 My hope is this, my prayer 
 That your soul forever can 
 
 Spotless garments wear. 
 
 29 
 
GREETINGS 
 
 Linger here a short sweet hour 
 Ere time resumes its mighty sway, 
 
 And let me make a lily bower 
 
 Wherein we can in sweet peace stay. 
 
 Come yet again — ah, now you see 
 The rose of love is blooming low, 
 
 Then glances up in ecstasy — 
 
 Small wonder that it loves you so ! 
 
 And now, once more, dear, turn this way ; 
 
 Look, I throw down for your feet 
 A ring of pansies here to-day, 
 
 Each one a thought both pure and sweet. 
 
 Smile, Love ! 'T is sweet to fill such nooks 
 With fairy wands and festoons rare ; 
 
 With music, pencil ings and books 
 And violet crowns for you to wear. 
 
 A ZEPHYR 
 
 Ah, sweet is the will of the breeze ! 
 
 O heart refreshed to the core, 
 List to the echo of love in the trees ; 
 Brave little Cupid awaits thee to please, 
 
 Faithful in love or in war ! 
 
 30 
 
TO A FRIEND 
 
 O GENTLE, kindly heart, must thou again 
 Bear such a load of agony and pain ? 
 The last was that of heavy mental weight 
 And this the pain of flesh, is nigh as great. 
 How well I know the throbbing, sick'ning way 
 In which the pain keeps on through night and day 
 How tenderly my heart goes out to thee 
 In this, thy hour of grief and agony. 
 
 AN ANGEL VOICE 
 
 An angel voice is falling 
 In accents sweet to hear ; 
 
 My soul aloud is calling, 
 Stay thou ever near. 
 
 An angel voice is soaring 
 High to realms above, 
 
 From whence to us is pouring 
 Down a flow of love. 
 
 31 
 
LEONA 
 
 The day is slowly dying 
 
 Into- a balmy night, 
 The birds to rest are flying 
 
 As my love comes in sight. 
 
 The clover-blossoms, swaying, 
 Whisper words of cheer ; 
 
 They, with me, are praying 
 For my Leona dear. 
 
 Nature seems to praise her, 
 
 Coming o'er the lea, 
 And I, her chosen lover, 
 
 Know she comes to me. 
 
 The clover-blossoms hear me 
 Murmur soft and low : 
 
 "L,e-o-na, I adore thee ; 
 No other loves thee so ! " 
 
 32 
 
LOVE BLOSSOMS 
 
 When the summer was young in its sweetness, 
 When bright blossoms swayed on each tree, 
 
 Ere the fruit took its place in completeness, 
 Some blossoms of love grew for me. 
 
 I watched them with care almost tender, 
 Lest the wind should drive them afar ; 
 
 The sunshine kissed them in splendor 
 And nothing their beauty could mar. 
 
 They flourished in richest profusion 
 
 And glowed as they spread their perfume, 
 
 Then dropped. Not without some confusion 
 Did their fading proclaim our love's doom? 
 
 No, dear heart ; fair fruit is now growing, 
 
 September is with us to-day, 
 And love, in its turn, is now showing 
 
 That its blossoms but paved a way. 
 
JOY 
 
 JUght-winged companion linger yet awhile, 
 Teach saddened faces how again to smile ; 
 Show us a few roses, each bereft of thorn, 
 Come to us at eventide, come to those who mourn. 
 When the sun is hidden by shadows dark and deep 
 Help us search for sunshine, lest we sit and weep ; 
 ' Throw a rose-hued vapor over human strife, 
 Play a gladsome measure for the march of life. 
 
 CHORDS 
 
 My life is aglow with a new sense and light 
 
 Because of a glimpse of thy soul in its might. 
 
 As pure as a pearl dost thou stand, far above 
 
 Nearly all others — a life one might love. 
 
 A hand in my soul reaches out unto thee, 
 
 A voice therein cries in soft entreaty : 
 
 " Give to me some of thy sweetest and best, 
 
 L,et thy soul's melody lull me to rest." 
 
 Now but the minor is heard, for to-day 
 
 The major, when worked in, will finish the play 
 
 In a glorious, rapturous tumult of sound 
 
 In which heart, soul and senses abound. 
 
 A medley of heav'n-sent love-songs shall rise, 
 
 And each will find place in our souls ere it dies. 
 
 So, on through the ages we '11 rove hand in hand, 
 
 To a myriad of melodies, lofty — yes, grand ! 
 
 34 
 
REVERIE 
 
 My tenderly loved one, so pure and white, 
 
 Art thou thinking of me this lonely night ? 
 
 Dost thou long to claim this poor caress 
 
 And return it in thy tenderness ? 
 
 Dost thou kiss me once in spirit now 
 
 As I smooth in fancy thy broad, low brow ? 
 
 Art thy curls, which twine about my heart 
 
 As they cluster aside from the snowy part, 
 
 Where the gold leaves abruptly the tender white 
 
 And meets the gaze of beholders quite 
 
 Unknown to thee — a halo divine ? 
 
 There do I kneel as does one at a shrine. 
 
 Darling, I bid thee good-night. Sleep well. 
 
 Thy thoughts thou mayst keep. Only God can tell 
 
 The beauty and worth of thy gentle soul. 
 
 Mortals like me from pole to pole 
 
 Might travel and find not one like thee, 
 
 So perfect in mind, heart and purity. 
 
 Once more, good-night ! God bless thee, dear, 
 
 And send His bright angels to hover anear ! 
 
 35 
 
THE LEGEND OF LAKE TOLEDO 
 
 LILY TIME 
 
 Fully and most graciously did sunshine ever rest 
 Upon the glassy surface of Lake Toledo's breast ; 
 And softly there also oft' fell the summer rain 
 Gently to be welcomed — ne'er to leave again. 
 Seldom was the surface covered o'er with frost ; 
 Never was its loveliness for one moment lost. 
 Along its banks in splendor on a golden day 
 Stood the flowing wildweeds, hollyhocks and gay 
 Early summer blossoms, mingling their hue 
 With the sombre brushwood, lace-worked by the 
 
 dew. 
 Thus in rustic beauty stretched about a mile 
 Lake Toledo's waters — like a God-given smile. 
 Near its virgin boundaries scarce a mortal trod ; 
 Untouched were its beauties, unbroken its sod. 
 Grew the water-lilies unmolested quite, 
 Sunny-hearted lilies gleaming in the light. 
 This the spot where Rodman, son of Rodman Tyre, 
 Paused and stood still, gazing back on brush and 
 
 brier. 
 Through a very labyrinth had he found his way 
 To the dainty Eden on this August day. 
 
 36 
 
He, the heir to woodlands for many miles about 
 
 Ne'er had seen their splendor, oft had felt a doubt 
 
 That he cared to visit land bereft of cheer, 
 
 But his love for Nature was awakened here. 
 
 With a dog and rifle, he, at rise of sun, 
 
 O'er his grounds had wandered, had his quest begun 
 
 For the wondrous lakelet, by gran' dames full a 
 
 score 
 Said to be unearthly. Nay, but they claimed more. 
 Heard he not their whispers, threw he them some 
 
 gold; 
 Left them to their fancies with their tale untold. 
 Standing now, he murmured, "I shall build near by; 
 Clear a space for lawn-land with this lakelet nigh. 
 'T is a full fair distance from the village road, 
 And my stately bride-elect shall have a fit abode. 
 Comes she with the lustre of ancient name and 
 
 pride " — 
 Here he paused and whistled the hound unto his 
 
 side, 
 For, off upon the waters a form drew slowly near, 
 And Rodman stared in wonder at what did now 
 
 appear 
 To be a living person on a tiny raft afloat, 
 While else upon the water was neither sail nor boat. 
 On, nearer came the object ; ashore the faithful 
 
 hound 
 Gave evidence of noting with many a yap and bound; 
 
 37 
 
Strange it seemed to Rodman, the dog was all de- 
 light, 
 Clamoring most gladly as the raft came into sight. 
 Ah, 't was a beauteous vision that slowly drew 
 
 anigh, — 
 As fair and dainty a maiden as ever heaved a sigh, — 
 For know ye not, kind hearer, that sighs ever await 
 Each sweet and gentle maiden as portions of her 
 
 fate? 
 " Neptune ; hi there, Neptune ! " rang out in girlish 
 
 tone, 
 And Rodman seized the canine that it might not 
 
 alone 
 Claim the maiden's greeting, but with dog-like grace 
 Introduce the trespasser in this, her native place. 
 Yet with all care he could not silence Neptune's bliss; 
 The short, sudden bark rang out — nor did it ring 
 
 amiss. 
 " Over there ! " the maiden cried ; " wait, I '11 come 
 
 to thee." 
 And there in silence Rodman mused, " She comes 
 
 to me." 
 Then up against the flowery bank she ran the dainty 
 
 craft, 
 And with one wrench and mighty spring Neptune 
 
 was on the raft. 
 In frightened tone did Rodman cry, a tone almost 
 
 pretense, 
 
 38 
 
"Here, Neptune, here; down, I say, where is thy 
 
 dog sense ? 
 Thy pardon, lady, do I now in humblest spirit 
 
 crave ; 
 I fancy that my gunning dog imagined he must save 
 Thee from this peaceful water, in case that thou 
 
 shouldst fall." 
 Right gaily said the maiden — nor timidly at all, 
 "O pray sir, waive excuses for Neptune's good 
 
 intent ; 
 Well I know his nature and what my dog-friend 
 
 meant." 
 Then leaped she, O so lightly, up unto the bank, 
 While Neptune moved caressingly, as if indeed to 
 
 thank 
 Her for her gracious coming, and pleading that she 
 
 stay 
 With mute but earnest longing in his glance and 
 
 way. 
 Gazed she then at Rodman, naught showed she of 
 
 art — 
 " Ownst thou my Neptune ? Only then, in part, 
 He has known no will but mine for well-nigh a year. 
 Many are the meetings we have had just here." 
 " Happy dog," said Rodman, with a gentle smile. 
 " May not, then, his master linger here awhile? " 
 "Nay, in truth why ask me?" Then amazement 
 
 dire 
 Covered her fair features. ' 'Art thou Rodman Tyre ? ' ' 
 
 39 
 
"Yes, O sweetest maiden ; I am surely he. 
 Tell me now, in kindness, who it is I see 
 Honoring my woodland like a fairy sprite 
 Floating o'er the lakelet, lending it new light 
 With thy wondrous tresses shining like to gold ? 
 Answer, fairest maiden, or am I too bold ? " 
 " Then thou art the owner of my lakelet, too, 
 Where for hours I linger, having naught to do. 
 It has been my refuge, when in silent tears 
 I might oft have languished all these lonely years. 
 Well I love these waters, — they seem like home to 
 
 me, — 
 Finding on their surface sweet tranquility. 
 I know only old folks, sad and stern of will — 
 Here I have my freedom, tho' the place is still ; 
 B'en the silence whispers of all joy to be, 
 And the birds seem chirping wondrous tales to me." 
 Dreamy grew the maiden, Rodman gazed his fill, 
 Asked her no more questions, scarcely breathed until 
 Woke she from her day dream, then he murmured 
 
 low : 
 " Queen of L,ake Toledo crown I thee, and so 
 Now I beg thee use thy sceptre and thy crown, 
 And in truest homage do I bow me down." 
 Frankly laughed the maiden, " Then there will be 
 
 peace, 
 And thou mayst know me by my name — Janice." 
 Scarce had eighteen summers passed her sunny head, 
 Gentle were her manners, gently was she bred ; 
 
 40 
 
But her every gesture held an untrained charm — 
 Childlike was her freshness, unaware of harm. 
 As she rose to leave him, Rodman turned also — 
 " May I not the legend of Lake Toledo know ? " 
 Asked he in tone persuasive, and her flower-like face 
 Flushed with eager pleasure as she moved with grace. 
 " 'T is a sad, sweet story, and almost too long 
 For our waning morning. I will sing the song 
 Taken from its meaning, then another time 
 Will I tell the legend of great love and crime." 
 Then she sang quite softly in a girlish key, 
 Thus : — and all the birdliugs chorused merrily. 
 
 " ' Lake Toledo's flowering shore, 
 
 Where grows the sweet wild rose, 
 Lonely is ; must always more 
 
 Be lonely as time goes. 
 A saddened maid with golden hair 
 
 Was with the lilies wed ; 
 Stifled they her wild despair 
 
 In their swaying bed. 
 Snowy white the lilies seemed, 
 
 Nor yellow hearts had they 
 'Til her loosened tresses gleamed 
 
 O'er their hearts that day. 
 Died the gentle maid of old 
 
 On Lake Toledo's breast, — 
 The lilies wear her tresses' gold 
 
 Her purity attest.' " 
 
 4i 
 
As the last note died away Rodman smiled his praise, 
 And he begged a promise, ere they went their ways, 
 That Janice should come again to the lakelet's shore; 
 Tell to him the wondrous tale of the grandame's lore. 
 Many were the meetings, full many, too, the smiles, 
 Until rosy blushes burned to greet his wiles. 
 Rodman's voice was music, and with manly grace 
 Charmed he with his presence, to the maid, this 
 
 place. 
 Man of worldly pleasure, well he knew his art, 
 And without e'en trying gained he that pure heart. 
 Troubled were the fancies now within his brain ; 
 Wrestled he with memory, but it was in vain ; 
 Further e'er receded the thought of pomp and power 
 That came with his betrothed and her queenly dower. 
 Easily he 'd won her though many suitors thronged. 
 Remember or forget her, either way he wronged 
 Deeply a fair woman, one a damsel proud, 
 With coquettish graces handsomely endowed ; 
 Or a childlike maiden like a dainty flower 
 Found by fate awaiting first love's witching hour. 
 Could he break his promise ? Nay, nor yet increase 
 The danger of so doing by lingering near Janice. 
 
 GOLDEN-ROD TIME 
 
 When golden-rod was waving and cloudless was the 
 
 sky, 
 Sadder grew a lovely face as the days dragged by; 
 
 42 
 
L,ake Toledo murmured to the anguished moan 
 Of the lonely maiden — Rodman Tyre had flown. 
 Bowed he where, in satin worked with silver thread, 
 Stood his proud Normania, and her haughty head 
 With its raven tresses bent before his gaze — 
 Well did she know better than to blame his ways. 
 Not with frowns nor speeches did this wise coquette 
 Ask him where he 'd lingered, lest he should regret 
 The loss of some distraction prized by him afar — 
 This her time of triumph, she his leading star. 
 So with all the power of her dazzling smile 
 Did she from his musing mood his thoughts beguile ; 
 Spoke he of the mansion near the flowering lake, 
 Well was she contented there her home to make. 
 Thus the flow' rets faded on Lake Toledo's shore, 
 And the tardy winter with frost-work spread it o'er. 
 Anear the shining waters a stately mansion rose, 
 Throwing its vast shadows to where the brooklet 
 
 flows. 
 And when April hastened to bring her joys to earth, 
 When bursting leaflets clustered and Springtime had 
 
 her birth 
 A pair of dashing horses drew through the village 
 
 road 
 The stately mansion's mistress unto her new abode. 
 There upon the threshhold paused the beauteous 
 
 bride, 
 Then moved she like a princess — with Rodman at 
 
 her side. 
 
 43 
 
LILY TIME 
 
 A graceful, slender figure crouched beneath the moon, 
 And a silvery voice was praying for death as for a 
 
 boon ; 
 But the higher, better nature of Janice, pure and fair, 
 Prevailed ; in all the mad'ning throes of love's 
 
 despair 
 Prayed she that all gladness should with him abide 
 Who had herself discarded when wooing his proud 
 
 bride. 
 While angels wept with pity, gently crowning her 
 
 above, 
 The tender girl rose calmly in the chastity of love. 
 Not for her was the fulfilment of Nature's leading 
 
 law, — 
 She was abnegation's creature — one for reverential 
 
 awe. 
 Up she stood, a wondrous radiance spreading from 
 
 her chin to brow, 
 And that naught of envy should o'erpower her did 
 
 she vow. 
 Came she now unto the lilies in the duskiness of 
 
 night, 
 Faithful Neptune meeting her in a rapture of delight, 
 And he hovered near the maiden, knowing not her 
 
 need of cheer — 
 So she sat beside the water, thinking none would 
 
 wander near. 
 
 44 
 
Music gay and merry laughter sometimes floated o'er 
 
 the lawn ; 
 Then the silent maid would shudder e'en as does a 
 
 frightened fawn. 
 
 GOLDEN-ROD TIME 
 
 When one eve beside the lakelet rested she without 
 
 the hound 
 Janice was most deeply startled by the very near-by 
 
 sound 
 Of voices — two in number — one a mellow, heavy 
 
 bass, 
 Answered by a woman's laughter, as, at quick and 
 
 hurried pace, 
 Two persons, richly clad, burst into her sight 
 Where she could not hope to pass them, — and in 
 
 this sorr} r plight 
 Janice paused. The lovers tarried, listened, stand- 
 ing still ; 
 When up they spoke — Janice hearing, much against 
 
 her will. 
 The woman — such a creature once seen is ne'er 
 
 forgot, 
 For such beauty could but rarely fall unto a woman's 
 
 lot. 
 Ah, too well knew the maiden that most regal face 
 
 and head, 
 'T was indeed the proud Normania — she whom. 
 
 Rodman Tyre had wed ! 
 
A gallant stood beside her, a foreigner by look, 
 Seeking for a mossy seat in the silent, fragrant nook. 
 Swore he that he loved her well ; spoke she not a 
 
 word. 
 Marble- white she gazed ahead as his vows she heard. 
 Now the moon, released from cloud, shone without 
 
 alloy, 
 And her face became illumined with a sudden joy; 
 But beside the silent water, terror sank into her heart, 
 For she feared her ardent lover, and she failed to 
 
 play her part. 
 Now the hastening footsteps, coming fast and free, 
 Was the tread of Rodman, and most piercingly 
 Cried his bride, " Oh, Rodman, save me, if you can, 
 From these hideous waters and this frenzied man ! " 
 With a spring did Rodman through the bushes dash; 
 But that self-same instant saw a bullet crash 
 Through his noble forehead. Fell he on his side, 
 And his mean assassin hastened far to ride. 
 Stood the proud Normania as if turned to stone, 
 Moving not a muscle, making not a moan ; 
 From the thicket Janice gently drew anigh, 
 Gazed at Normania, then with a low cry 
 Bent o'er the body, kissed the white, dead face ; 
 Forgotten was injustice, the bride, the hour, the 
 
 place ; 
 'Till she was most rudely, with ungentle hand, 
 Thrust aside and threatened: "Girl, thou 'It bear 
 
 the brand 
 
 46 
 
Of being Rodman's murderess. Thus I '11 shield his 
 
 name, — 
 Covering up the scandal, for my name's the same. 
 I am, girl, the wedded wife of Rodman here. 
 Be thou his destroyer ! Though I greatly fear 
 From thy raving actions, maiden at his side, 
 That thou wouldst have willingly been his loving 
 
 bride." 
 Answered not sweet Janice. Madame moved away, 
 And when she reached the mansion her face was 
 
 ashen gray. 
 
 The search was unavailing for the one accused, 
 Though the family of Normania wealth and cunning 
 
 used. 
 Then came Rodman's cousin, next in line was he ; 
 Karl his name, his nature fine to a degree. 
 Pitied he the maiden who afar had flown 
 Without a fair trial ; of whose lot so lone 
 Heard he many rumors, heard he many a sigh 
 From the faithful township. Ere a month went by 
 Madame Tyre departed from the halls and towers 
 Of the stately mansion with its lawns and bowers. 
 Days of gloom were followed for the kindly Karl 
 By days of keen inquiry, smoothing out the snarl 
 Of the most mysterious flight of the fair Janice, 
 And as he paced his garden his wonder but increased. 
 
 47 
 
LILY TIME 
 
 As once the twilight gathered its dusky mantle 
 
 'round, 
 ' ' Karl of Tyre ' ' was walking with his hunting hound 
 Neptune, whose late owner, Rodman, lay so still 
 In his grave off yonder on summit of the hill ; 
 Neptune, who had ever with loving, great brown eyes 
 Regarded the sweet Janice as his lady and his prize. 
 Now with his new owner the dog was most sedate, 
 Sharing all the rambles that Karl took oft and late. 
 .On a balmy evening, 't was in bright Jul} 7 — 
 Since the tragic shooting some months had passed by — 
 Man and dog were walking near Toledo Lake. 
 Of a sudden Neptune's form commenced to shake, 
 And, with ghastty meaning, uttered he a howl 
 'Spite of Karl's upbraiding or his angry scowl. 
 Then the powerful creature dashed into the lake 
 And as with all fervor tried his way to make 
 To the swaying lilies — Karl with flying feet 
 Followed the embankment ; what a sight to greet ! 
 His staring eyes protruded, for there upon a raft 
 Floating 'midst the lilies a maiden sat and laughed — 
 Laughed with that shrill horror that is bereft of 
 
 sense. 
 Came she there in madness ; wished not to go hence. 
 But when faithful Neptune reached his much-loved 
 
 maid 
 She gazed at him in rapture — burst into tirade ; 
 
 48 
 
Fondled she her comrade, bending o'er his head, 
 Then in clearest music she half sung, half said : 
 
 " ' L,ake Toledo's flowering shore, 
 
 Where grows the sweet wild rose, 
 Lonely is ; must always more 
 
 Be lonely as time goes. 
 A saddened maid with golden hair 
 
 Was to the lilies wed, 
 Stifled they her wild despair — 
 
 Wild despair — wild de-spair ! ' : 
 
 As the sad cry issued from those cold, pale lips 
 A chill passed o'er the hearer from head to finger- 
 tips, 
 And that dainty figure, arms outstretched, bent o'er 
 The darkly-rippling water and lily blooms galore ; 
 Faced she once the heavens, then without a sigh 
 Fell slowly backward, as if 't were sweet to die. 
 In that selfsame moment changed was the scene, 
 For with a bark of anguish Neptune plunged between 
 The slender life of Janice and her endless rest — 
 'Midst the tangled lilies strove to do his best. 
 Then a ringing cry of cheer filled the darkening place, 
 And a willing, manly form swam towards a face 
 Which, like shining marble or a fallen star, 
 Gleamed among the lilies, while anear and far 
 O'er their snowy petals, twining here and there, 
 Were the pale-gold tendrils of her loosened hair. 
 
 49 
 
With a mighty effort Karl the raft secured, 
 
 And the maid and Neptune soon were safely moored. 
 
 Karl the fainting maiden carried from the lake 
 
 To the stately mansion, there to undertake 
 
 Her resuscitation, with the help of one 
 
 Who ordered his good living — kind-hearted Mrs. 
 
 Dunn. 
 How that homely creature o'er the maiden cried. 
 Saying to the master : " O sir, had she died 
 I 'd a been most wretched, and now, since she 's found, 
 Must I speak out truly, spread the news around ? 
 This sweet little maiden, known as fair Janice, 
 Could have died to-night, sir, in purity and peace. 
 Sir, her soul is whiter than even is her brow, 
 Tho' I said it never until you hear me now ; 
 For, thought I, the master lying cold and dead 
 Would not wish a whisper 'gainst the one he wed, — 
 Madame Tyre, — nor do I blame her even yet ; 
 Still, I can swear this maiden hath nothing to 
 
 regret." 
 Karl, who now stood gazing in pity most profound 
 Upon the form of Janice, with its scattered locks 
 
 around, 
 Heaved a sigh of pleasure. Feelings strange and new 
 Mingled with his planning what he had best do, 
 And his noble features lightened with a smile. 
 Said he : " Thank thee, madame ; care for her awhile. 
 Let her use this mansion as her very own. 
 Teach her smiles and laughter, not to weep alone. 
 
 5" 
 
I go hence this hour, and will learn the mode 
 Of my cousin's slaying near his own abode. 
 I will know the story of this maiden's flight ; 
 I will turn, in justice, her great wrong to right ; 
 Then will I come hither. Till I return 
 Guard yon tender maiden, that thou mayst earn 
 My high appreciation. Show her all esteem." 
 Then bowed Madame lowly. ' 'Ah, sir, it would seem 
 Thou nam'st a gentle duty, all honor here at 'Tyre ' 
 Shall be shown the gracious lady whose sufferings 
 
 were dire." 
 " Farewell," said Karl softly, turning round to go. 
 Hark, was it only fancy that feebly said "Ah, no ! " 
 
 I.ILY TIME 
 
 When lily blooms were starting again to show in bud, 
 All glowing was the freshness, the lake was at its 
 
 flood ; 
 The clam'ring robin red-breasts, alert to food and 
 
 sound, 
 A fair and beauteous refuge anear the lakelet found. 
 At length unto the mansion rode its master proud ; 
 No gloom upon his countenance, his head erect, not 
 
 bowed. 
 Within his heart was singing a score of merry birds 
 And the softness of the Springtime was in his looks 
 
 and words. 
 
 5i 
 
Hasten now and list ye, what murmurs he so low ? 
 " May all the richest blessings unto my darling flow. 
 My pure and perfect lily, so bent with sore distress, 
 Shall live to smile in radiance of love and tenderness. ' ' 
 On rode the noble Karl through driveway newly 
 
 green, 
 And the shimmering moonbeams shyly glanced be- 
 tween 
 The bending boughs of sturdy trees that lined the 
 
 entrance lane. 
 But moonbeams are so silent and Karl, I grant, would 
 
 fain 
 Hear a cheery welcome, so hurried on his steed ; 
 That all was well, he hoped — and then his suit to 
 
 plead. 
 Clad in white within the hall stood the lily maid ; 
 Turneth she away in haste. What ! is she afraid ? 
 Strideth Karl onto her side : " Maiden, is it thee 
 All rosy, smiling, dimpled, the maid once sad to see — 
 The lily maid whose waxen face was one to view 
 
 with dread, 
 Who rode I fast and rode I far to reach lest she be 
 
 dead? 
 My dainty darling, see, I kneel before thy tender 
 
 grace. 
 If thou art cruel, lily maid, thou dost belie thy face ! " 
 O shyly and so winsomely gazed she in his eyes, 
 That her own seemed superhuman, of a wondrous 
 
 size. 
 
 52 
 
" Dear one " — she spoke softly ; her voice could al- 
 most seem 
 Alike the ripples from a leaf just fallen upon a stream — 
 1 ' Know I now that none like thee is left above the 
 
 ground, 
 And that never maiden nobler man on earth hath 
 
 found. 
 My sad love seemeth distant, and as if it could but be 
 A foreshadowing of this rapture, of this glow I feel 
 for thee." 
 
 When the lilies in the splendor of their white and 
 
 golden pride 
 lifted up their sunlit faces, Janice was a bride. 
 Well she loves the brushwood glist'ning with its dust 
 
 of early dew. 
 And the morning glories clustering in their richest 
 
 purple blue. 
 Unmolested are the lilies, gleaming their sweet lives 
 
 away ; 
 Nature is their only mistress — here she reigns in 
 
 beauteous swav. 
 
 53 
 
FLORENCE 
 
 FLORENCE, Queen of the kingdom "Mind" 
 In Fancy's birthplace ! Queen of Love, 
 Of all Earth's joy— 
 Lift me with thy gracious, kind, 
 And loving smile to heights above 
 Things that annoy. 
 
 Lower now thy tend' rest voice 
 To cadence fitted to our dreams — 
 Our coupled hearts. 
 Bend thy golden head by choice 
 
 And let me see thy sweet eye-beams 
 From whence truth starts. 
 
 Say thou e'en so small a word, 
 'T will find with me its place 
 And there abide. 
 Not a leaf nor grass blade stirred, 
 Not a zephyr raised thy lace 
 When by my side 
 
 That I was not aware of, Florenchen, 
 
 So fair the hour and sweet with thee anear, 
 In reach of hand. 
 Depart so soon ? Dost thou know then 
 
 Thou 'st dropped the rose, once to thee dear. 
 On the gray sand ? 
 
 54 
 
O FOLLOW ME 
 
 O for the sight of the rolling sea 
 
 As merrily 
 
 The waves agree 
 
 That joy is joy, and love and glee 
 
 Shall follow me. 
 
 There where the salty breezes blow, 
 
 The winter snow 
 
 Must melt and go. 
 
 The sun-kissed wavelets will it so, 
 
 For they the joy of love well know. 
 
 There o'er the glorious unrest 
 
 Of the grand old ocean's heaving breast, 
 
 All that 's best 
 
 Of things confessed 
 
 Comes to us by the seas' hehest. 
 
 AT SEVEN 
 
 My love comes to me at seven, 
 
 When the day and the evening meet ; 
 
 And there 's naught 'twixt this and heaven 
 That life holds, half so sweet. 
 
 55 
 
"NOW THE DAY IS OVER" 
 
 ^tt^P^ 
 
 By the sea I paused when the twilight 
 Was tenderly nearing the scene, 
 
 When transcendent thoughts, engrossing, 
 Placed 'twixt nature and soul a screen. 
 
 The sea made its evening endeavor 
 
 To deepen its richness of hue ; 
 From the sparkling rise of the water 
 
 The fall of it seemed the more blue. 
 
 As I rested, a change swept my musings — 
 
 A feeling of sanctity glowed 
 O'er my spirit. I gazed at the cloudlets — 
 
 Like aerial lakelets they flowed. 
 
 Anear me the scene was so silent 
 
 That the rhythmical sound of the sea 
 
 Seemed throbbing with prayer ; its motion 
 Was one with the longing in me. 
 
 Then I heard the tones of an organ 
 From the heart of a church nearby ; 
 
 'T was the even prayer. Hark, singing ! 
 " Night is drawing nigh." 
 
 56 
 
That tenderly-exquisite hymn-tune 
 Of eventide swelled on the air, 
 
 Till my life was engulfed, re-awakened, 
 As I paused on the soft sand there. 
 
 RHAPSODY 
 
 My love, these senses are rocked in bliss 
 And vibrate to thy gentle touch. 
 
 Part of a life was spent waiting for this — 
 All else seems little, this much. 
 
 See, I bend low to kiss thy sweet hand — 
 
 No, love, 't is not too low ; 
 For the finger-tips pressing mine form a band 
 
 For a bunch of heart blessings, you know. 
 
 Hush, darling ; a moment wait ; be still. 
 
 Let our old Father Time pass by 
 And catch us having our own sweet will 
 
 In Love's golden trance, you and I. 
 
 He '11 carry the memory, and carry it well, 
 But not, love, from you nor from me ; 
 
 For I know that in our minds it will dwell 
 In all time which is yet to be. 
 
 57 
 
IMPROMPTU 
 
 Have you seen a great star gleaming 
 
 Afar in the midnight sky 
 One night ? Did the next, tho' fair seeming, 
 
 Feel dark with that star not nigh ? 
 
 Have you lived in a dream of sunshine 
 
 And wakened to find it drear, 
 Your empty fingers to intertwine ? 
 
 Did you note that downcoursing tear ? 
 
 Can you feel these tumultous heart-throbs ? 
 
 Can you read the depths of a soul ? 
 Will you help to lessen one life's sobs 
 
 And make it sweet and whole ? 
 
 FAME 
 
 A maid set out to climb the mount of fame. 
 
 Years passed — she reached the summit. Now her 
 
 name 
 Rings out with plaudits from the crowd below. 
 But there she stands in age's winter snow 
 Alone ! Too tired to listen, or to smile, or hear. 
 What glistens on her face ? A lonely tear. 
 
 58 
 
ONE GRIEF 
 
 A SONG 
 
 Only one grief, but deeper 
 Than ever was grief before. 
 
 Only some tears, but tears, love, 
 Often have fallen of yore — 
 These but a few tears more. 
 
 Naught but a heart left bleeding, 
 Sadder than words can say ; 
 
 'T was but a word unspoken 
 Caused joy to die to-day — 
 To languish and fade away. 
 
 All of a life's deep glory 
 Banished. For all is o'er ; 
 
 Dark is the rosy pathway 
 Trodden in joy of yore — 
 Darkened forever more. 
 
 59 
 
A YEAR AGO 
 
 A year ago, when the spring was young, 
 Ere the leaves took on their green, 
 
 I picked thee out the crowds among — 
 May naught e'er come between ! 
 
 The months each grew more fragrant 
 With the flowers born of May ; 
 
 My heart became a vagrant 
 As 't was softly stolen away ! 
 The flowers were fair that May 
 When my heart was stolen away ! 
 
 My love with autumn did not pine, 
 
 For when the summer fled 
 The warmth of love, with its sunshine, 
 
 Filled the place instead ! 
 And in the garden of my heart 
 
 There lives and blooms for thee 
 The rose of love, set off, apart, 
 
 In pride and purity ! 
 The flowers were fair that May 
 When my heart was stolen away ! 
 
 60 
 
MRS. BROWNIE 
 
 Brownie has built a charming nest 
 
 In the old elm tree to-day, 
 And therein tucked his own heart's best — 
 
 Mrs. Brownie from over the way. 
 
 They are not stout brownies with great huge'eyes, 
 Wearing slippers with long-curved toes ; 
 
 Their tiny feet would have a surprise, 
 For of slippers neither one knows. 
 
 Mr. Brownie is just a sparrow bird 
 
 With a warm little heart indeed, 
 And Mrs. Brownie, I 've often heard, 
 
 Does a happy and joyful life lead. 
 
 TEARS 
 
 Weep, such tears are pure and holy ; 
 
 Sinking down in mossy sod 
 Toward a form now still and lowly, 
 
 Whence a soul has flown to God. 
 
 Weep, for tears are words for feeling. 
 
 Eyes will ache for want of sleep ; 
 Hearts, when sore, are slow of healing. 
 
 Blessed indeed are those who weep. 
 
 61 
 
JANICE 
 
 O SWEET Janice, canst thou be dead ? 
 Yes, still thy heart and calm instead 
 Of smiling lay those curved lips. 
 
 Breath has flown ! 
 Was the soul-light, then, in thy sweet eyes 
 A tender spark from other skies ? 
 That gentle touch of finger-tips 
 
 A touch of Heaven's own ? 
 The others linger o'er thy name, 
 Or pause they uttering the same 
 
 E'en in hushed tone. 
 But I stand gazing on thy brow, 
 Murmuring ever — always now, 
 
 Eternally alone. 
 Janice ! sweet, sweet Janice ! 
 My spirit-love — purity, peace ! 
 
 Janice ! Janice ! 
 
 CLOUDS 
 
 When the heavy clouds all bend 
 
 Darkest overhead, 
 Then, indeed, does fate intend 
 
 To send new light instead. 
 
 62 
 
PURE JOY 
 
 There s a trill of pure joy in the song of to-day, 
 
 Of the golden-winged bird as he sings his lay ; 
 
 And he glances aloft, perhaps to see 
 
 Where the home of so much sunshine can be. 
 
 Then down to the garden his glances stray 
 
 To gaze at the rose-buds. He thinks they will stay, 
 
 And does not know that on some fair eve 
 
 They will wither away ; nor does he believe 
 
 That hearts can be cruel, or thoughts unkind, — 
 
 Only love and joy can the sweet bird find. 
 
 FRIENDSHIP 
 
 Were I lost in clouds of doubt, 
 
 Hazy dreams, or fear, 
 Thy sweet eyes could lead me out 
 
 With a glance or tear. 
 
 Were I lonely with my soul, 
 
 Engrossed in a prayer, 
 I should not think it quite whole 
 
 Were thv name not there. 
 
THY STAR A CROWN 
 
 A soft voice came to lny soul to say : 
 
 " Go forth in the world afar ; 
 Thou 'It find pure joy upon the way 
 
 And high shall mount thy star. 
 
 Then to the lowly thou wilt bend 
 
 A hand with loving care, 
 And little children thou wilt send 
 
 To gather garlands fair. 
 
 Then turn their thoughts to heaven above 
 
 By teaching them to know 
 That o'er them reigns the God of Love, 
 
 Who yearns to love them so. 
 
 Later, when thy work 's all o'er, 
 
 Thy star shall lead the way 
 Unto the widely-open door 
 
 Where angels fair will say : 
 
 ' Thy star a shining crown shall be. 
 Listen that ye may know. 
 Here, above, were heard for thee 
 All prayers ye taught below.' ' 
 
 64 
 
HIS MEANING 
 
 'T was not the wish to disturb thee so 
 That prompted those letters of mine. 
 
 'T was merely the wondering whether or no 
 I might have in return some of thine. 
 
 'T was not the desire to tire thee out 
 
 That sent me to sit by thy side. 
 'T was only to kill the painful doubt 
 
 That thy fondness could not abide. 
 
 And the reason I looked into thine eyes 
 
 All too often was, sweet, to see 
 If some of the love that within me would rise, 
 
 Could not be transmitted to thee. 
 
 Thou failed to see the wherefore that I 
 Should linger. Thou bad' st me go; 
 
 But thou could not believe that the reason why 
 Was — because I loved thee so. 
 
 My letters, words and visits appear 
 To have worried thee, sweet, at last. 
 
 I wonder will thou e'er miss them, dear, 
 When they become things of the past. 
 
 65 
 
THE WILD ROSE BLUSHES 
 
 Each tiny grass-blade is waving about 
 
 In an ecstasy 'neath my eyes, 
 And the wild rose blushes without a doubt 
 
 With love and sweet surprise. 
 The clover is hanging its dainty head 
 
 All filled with a burden of dew, 
 And the wide-awake robin is watching instead 
 
 Of singing — while waiting for you. 
 
 The daisies which grew near the border tree 
 
 Faded away, you must know, 
 Longing to see your face so fair. 
 
 Ah, why did you grieve them so? 
 But now you are coming. Ring, lily bells ! 
 
 To sadness and grief bid adieu. 
 Oh what joy in my yearning heart dwells. 
 
 As I listen and wait, love, for you ! 
 
 HADST THOU BEEN THERE 
 
 The skies were dark, 
 For the sandy shore 
 
 Was bereft of the mark 
 Of one step more. 
 
 66 
 
The sea was rough, 
 So wild with despair, 
 
 And with reason enough — 
 Thou wert not near. 
 
 The skies would have smiled 
 In the sun's warm glare, 
 
 And the sea 'd have been mild 
 Hadst thou been there. 
 
 DISCONTENT 
 
 The sky and ocean had never met — 
 They had much to conceal, much to regret 
 And with every heave the surging tide 
 Endeavored to reach the heavens so wide. 
 Why should the clouds so restless be ? 
 They tried to reach the far-distant sea. 
 Days dawned, then silently slipped away ; 
 The ocean moaned and slashed its spray. 
 The heavens smiled, then wept again 
 In discontent with earth and men ; 
 The waves caressed and begged the shore 
 To come and join them more and more ; 
 But on beyond, in mighty power, 
 God ruled the struggle hour by hour ! 
 
 67 
 
LUIXABY 
 
 Why not sleep, my only one, 
 
 And see the dreamland bowers ; 
 The fairy dancing has begun — 
 
 'T will last all sleep}' hours. 
 The tiny little bluebells 
 
 Are ringing out their tune, 
 While all about in dream-dells 
 
 The fairy flow' rets bloom. 
 La, la, la ! Fairies are calling thee low 
 L,a, la, la, la ! To Dreamland 't is 
 time to go. 
 
 Hush ! the birds are sleeping 
 
 In every downy nest ; 
 Mamma bird is keeping 
 
 Watch o'er her heart's best. 
 Never can her birds, dear, 
 
 To Fairy Islands fly ; 
 But mamma's darling, nestling here, 
 
 In dreams will pass them by. 
 
 68 
 
RELINQUISHED 
 
 I saw him lift the tendrils of her softly-curling hair 
 And gaze into her witching face. I turned cold 
 
 with despair, 
 Then enraged enough was I to kill ; but all to what 
 
 avail ? 
 If I gave way to my anguish, or spoiled their lover's 
 
 tale, 
 'T would but forge the fetters stronger of faith and 
 
 constancy — 
 That love which, now another's, had once been sworn 
 
 for me. 
 Then a change came o'er my spirit. Two souls 
 
 beneath the sun 
 Have met to love each other. Could I, then, be the 
 
 one 
 To dampen that sweet ardor, encloud my darling's 
 
 brow, 
 When, loving so another, she ne'er could love me 
 
 now ? 
 
 69 
 
A STRAWBERRY WISE 
 
 She lifted a ripened strawberry red 
 And I remarked on its crimson hue, 
 
 Standing with me near the strawberry bed, 
 With the guests of the lawn fete in view. 
 
 The great red berry was held by its stem 
 
 In her dainty white finger-tips, 
 But it fell by chance to her dress's hem, 
 
 On its way to her waiting lips. 
 
 And no other berry I found that day, 
 As I searched in the sun's hot glare, 
 
 Seemed as good as the one which rolled away 
 And lay in the dust over there. 
 
 Ah, strawberry wise, 't is easy to please, 
 Keeping far from reach but in sight. 
 
 Here I toil for a smile in my hours of ease 
 And gain not one half of your might. 
 
 SPRAY 
 
 A sea-spray called to the dawning day : 
 " Hurry and kiss ere I melt away " ; 
 And the dawn to old Sol beckoned in haste 
 Lest the sweet opportunity he should waste. 
 
 70 
 
A shell nestled softly into the sand ; 
 A lovely girl passed with swaying hand ; 
 The shell was longing this owner to claim, 
 But was crushed by her tread as on she came. 
 
 Old Sol paused in his soft caress 
 To stare in surprise at such carelessness, 
 And the spray's brief happiness died at birth ; 
 But the girl was lost in a dream of mirth. 
 
 CHARM 
 
 A Tiny violet swayed and bent 
 
 And smiled up at the sky ; 
 It freely gave its lovely scent 
 
 And softly wondered why 
 Mortals all, who passed that way, 
 
 Found in it such a charm, 
 And seldom let a violet stay 
 
 Where it was free from harm. 
 
 A little bird sang overhead 
 
 A gay and glad refrain — 
 The pretty leaves were turning red ; 
 
 The sun shone in the lane. 
 The little birdie's modesty 
 
 Was great ; he wondered why 
 The children paused beneath his tree 
 
 To gaze up at the sky. 
 
 7* 
 
INSPIRATION 
 
 Thy voice holds in its magic 
 
 A wondrous swaying power, 
 More words of joy and tragic 
 
 Expression in one hour 
 Than volumes of sweet verses ; 
 
 Than wells of frozen tears ; 
 Than love, when it immerses 
 
 Our soul and calms our fears. 
 
 Thy voice enslaves my best dreams 
 
 And opens wide a door 
 Wherein sweet nature oft seems 
 
 To lock away a store 
 Of lovely fancies — music's dower — 
 
 Which to the scribe gives fame. 
 Thy songs are like unto that bower 
 
 The key-lock is — thy name. 
 
 Thy voice is, unto one mind, 
 
 A fount of endless thought, 
 An inspiration combined 
 
 With joy which ne'er is taught. 
 O let the word oft hear thee, 
 
 When, with an artistic choice, 
 The best in music nobly 
 
 Is sung by thy sweet voice. 
 
 72 
 
Theu let me like an echo 
 
 But word the world's applause ; 
 Not in the loud, but narrow, 
 
 Pathway of fashion's laws ; 
 But with a pen dipped gently 
 
 In music-love and praise ; 
 With a glow which, evidently, 
 
 Can reflect thy soul's own rays. 
 
 THE LEAVES TURN RED 
 
 The leaves are all turning to red and gold ; 
 
 Methinks they are fair when aglow, 
 For my great love, which has ne'er been told, 
 
 Has colored my life just so. 
 
 A golden glimmer now touches all 
 
 My days with a sweet repose, 
 And a mystic vapor has chosen to fall 
 
 Like the scent of a fragrant rose. 
 
 I loved none yet when springtime came, 
 Save the sun and the flowers below ; 
 
 But now naught seems to be the same, 
 For my loved one adores me so. 
 
 73 
 
A PRAYER 
 
 God bless you, dear one, as you sleep ; 
 
 Thy grave, sweet eyes must have their rest, 
 And o'er your slumbers, tranquil, deep, 
 
 May angels pause at my request. 
 
 God bless you, dear one, when you rise 
 
 To face the turmoil of each day, 
 And give to you the greatest prize 
 
 For which you long and strive and pray ! 
 
 THE ROLLING SEA 
 
 Think often of the rolling sea ; 
 How, in dusky starlight, we 
 Exchanged a thought ; its wondrous might 
 Made in our minds a wish for right — 
 
 Right in true affinity, 
 
 Right in all divinity. 
 
 Think often of the rolling sea, 
 And when so musing give to me 
 A fleeting thought, however dim, 
 And let it (like an echoing hymn 
 Refrain, from out your childhood's store 
 Of mem' ries) linger ; evermore. — 
 
 74 
 
ART SUBJUGATED 
 What was 't thou sang to me 
 As I against thy knee 
 Leaned, on the sandy beach 
 Just out of ocean's reach ? 
 Neptune's accompaniment 
 A strange enchantment lent 
 To that most beauteous sound, 
 Thy voice — so rich and round. 
 Wierd but bewitching hour ! 
 Voice with its swaying power ! 
 No need of lyre nor harp ; 
 No need of critic sharp. 
 Thine was an artist's name 
 Already known to fame ; 
 Yet in thee none could see 
 Aught but simplicity. 
 I there, in humble joy, 
 Scarce breathed, lest sigh annoy 
 Thy dreamy, tunesome mood 
 Gently by muses wooed. 
 Sing'st thou not alway ? 
 Never did audience gay 
 Hear just such tones. A part 
 Of thy sweet soul. Not art ! 
 Or art quite subjugated 
 By Nature, soul-related. 
 Purity by thee enthroned, 
 Fitly thy voice entoned. 
 
 75 
 
MOONLIGHT MUSINGS 
 
 A band of silver lay over the tide, 
 And the lustre held such a spell 
 
 That I wished to have thee by my side 
 In the moonlight an hour to dwell. 
 
 I traveled the mystic, beauteous line, 
 In mind, o'er the sea's unrest, 
 
 And my hand instinctively felt for thine, 
 But it failed, dear heart, in its quest. 
 
 O'er the heaving ocean's silver track, 
 High there, on the smiling night, 
 
 We journeyed in spirit, then came back 
 With a deeper rev'rence and might. 
 
 The voyage was sweet, beyond compare, 
 And pure as the light on the sea, 
 
 While tho' afar, dear, thou lingered there 
 In high-souled commune, love, with me. 
 
CONFIDENCES 
 
 There is something, O so sweet, to be told, 
 
 It rings on the summer air ; 
 All the tiny rose-buds cherish, enfold, 
 
 The secret I left in their care. 
 
 Each leaf on the topmost branches 
 
 Of four of our tallest trees 
 That blissful tale enhances, 
 
 As it whispers it to the breeze. 
 
 Not far away grow some lilies sweet ; 
 
 They gleam in their purity, 
 And just here, running at my feet, 
 
 The brook sings my secret to me. 
 
 But only to those who are silent and wise 
 
 Do I of my deep love tell ; 
 By the time the rose-buds open their eyes 
 
 Some one else may know it as well. 
 
 77 
 
NONE BUT THE BIRDS 
 
 The woodbine clambered o'er the fence ; 
 A maid stood by, all innocence. 
 A June sunbeam reaching through 
 The shade tree's boughs touched new 
 Her glossy hair. Ah, what thy blush ? 
 Listen, ye noisy birds ! Hearken ! Hush ! 
 " Dear heart," cries he. 
 
 " Waiting for me? 
 
 Then thou 'It say 
 
 Yes, when I pray 
 
 Come to my heart 
 
 Never to part. ' ' 
 
 September. The woodbine hangs its bloom ; 
 
 Sunbeams marvel at such gloom. 
 
 A chill little breeze which comes to say : 
 
 " God speed " to the lovers, moved away. 
 
 For the lad stands by the fence alone. 
 
 To God, in spirit, his bride had flown. 
 
 None but the birds 
 
 Hear his sad words. 
 
 " Dearheart," cries he, 
 
 " Wait yet for me ; 
 
 I am coming above 
 
 To thee, my love ! ' ' 
 
 78 
 
MY SWEETHEART 
 
 Not all the gold of the daffodil, 
 Made glorious by Nature's skill, 
 Nor the mystic-scented coronet 
 Which sweetly crowns the violet, 
 Nor yet the fragrant heliotrope, 
 With its tiny flow' rets all aslope, 
 Could show you e'en the smallest part 
 Of the dainty charm of my sweetheart. 
 Should any on this earth despise 
 This loved one whom I idolize 
 I would his words and looks defy 
 And throw into his face the lie ; 
 Nor would I even once permit 
 That she should for his benefit 
 Smile and graciously forgive, 
 Nor even frown a negative. 
 My darling who, when boys molest 
 Some birdlings in their downy nest, 
 Grows tender with a woman's love 
 Lent to her by the hosts above. 
 Let Nature's song and mine combine 
 This dainty darling to enshrine 
 In each pure mind. Then there, apart. 
 Will reign in splendor my sweetheart. 
 
 79 
 
A SCAR 
 
 Age, with its creases, in passing by 
 Scattered a few for youth to try. 
 One fell on a soft and girlish face 
 And settled slowly into place. 
 
 I knew, without her telling me, 
 
 That the early little crease must be 
 
 Only the very smallest part 
 
 Of a heavy blow which bruised her heart. 
 
 SOME SOLACE SWEET CREATING 
 
 I think that heaven meant not so sad an ending 
 Unto my dream of loveliness and light, 
 
 Or else that cloud was lowered while intending 
 To lead my soul unto a higher flight. 
 
 Mayhap the years which pass will tell their story, 
 How better far it was for us to part, 
 
 And happiness in fuller, grander glory 
 Will fill each crevice of an aching heart. 
 
 But, ah, the sadness and the dreary waiting ; 
 
 The heartbeats each, dear one, a sob for thee ! 
 Is time some gentle solace sweet creating, 
 
 Or will it lead thee back again to me ? 
 
 80 
 
TENDERNESS 
 
 There are no words too sweet and kind, 
 
 No songs too tender, deep, 
 To show the thoughts which fill my mind 
 
 And penetrate my sleep. 
 
 Such words and songs are merely tone 
 
 And poorly do their part 
 When they describe my love for you — 
 
 A love which fills my heart. 
 
 Ah, darling, if you hear me tell 
 
 Of this great love of mine, 
 And how my eyes with tears do swell 
 
 While yours with light do shine ! 
 
 I '11 bless thee for one single smile, 
 
 Or for a pitying tear, 
 If thou 'It but linger yet a while 
 
 To listen and to hear. 
 
 8] 
 
HUMAN NATURE 
 [one side] 
 
 The crowd in waiting for a star 
 
 The sun forgot ; 
 Next day was rainy near and far, 
 
 The sun shone not. 
 
 Night fell ; neither star nor moon 
 
 The darkness cheered ; 
 Next day the glorious sun at noon 
 
 Again appeared. 
 
 The crowd, while basking in its rays, 
 
 Forgot 't was there, 
 Save to, in their several hundred ways, 
 
 Deplore the glare. 
 
 GUITAR SONG 
 
 Nearby in silence is lying 
 
 My stringless, forlorn guitar, 
 And I think, not without sighing. 
 
 How like it our lives oft are ; 
 In the soul is many a sweet strain 
 
 Of harmony divine, 
 Which draws us heavenward again 
 
 Unto the hoty shrine. 
 
 82 
 
Life's noisy bells keep tolling ; 
 
 In the sound we soon forget 
 The softer tones and rolling 
 
 Vibrations of regret ; 
 But when forlorn our souls lie 
 
 Bereft, unstrung, alone, 
 An angel's hand just passing by 
 
 Fills the space with sweetest tone. 
 
 THE SCALES OF LIFE 
 
 Wouxdst thou deny the rose's charm and mystic scent, 
 
 Its dainty hue, 
 Because a chance thorn your blundering finger rent, 
 
 And startled you ? 
 
 Would, unto thee, thy much-loved harp become 
 
 A senseless thing 
 Because thy hand had left it, made it dumb, 
 
 Bereft of string ? 
 
 Then would one fear to have thee hold 
 
 The scales of life. 
 Lest by some caprice odd and bold 
 
 Thou shouldst bring strife. 
 
 83 
 
AN ANSWER TO "PARTING" 
 
 What if, perchance, your parting were a vain 
 And needless manner of inflicting pain 
 Upon another and yourself as well ? 
 Mayhap that other time has chosen to tell 
 That in the sundering of those tender ties 
 Mistake was made — doleful error lies ? 
 What if, thus, with active, clamoring pen, 
 That other's sorrow should be known by men ? 
 Deep rivers, like deep sorrows, true are still ; 
 They hide as well some hideous crimes until 
 The Judgment Day. Will hidden troubles ride 
 In moody silence next to false self-pride ? 
 From speaking lips and loving hearts one knows 
 Much foolishness, yet much candor flows ; 
 But sorrows, such as mourning o'er our dead, 
 Need little showing, they are hallowed. 
 Our living griefs, like your well-quoted wine, 
 Should ever with a mellow lustre shine. 
 If right should rule your coming e'er together, 
 Dare not to judge of anguish in another ! 
 
 84 
 
OUR TREE 
 
 I sit ine down near the Christmas tree 
 
 And look at each gleaming bough. 
 Wondering if, as grown children, we 
 
 Are not pleased with tinsel e'en now. 
 There are gay glass balls, crimson and gold, 
 
 Representing our bubble-like schemes ; 
 There are brownies, too, and fairies of old, 
 
 Like the phantoms of our day-dreams. 
 I see bunches of cotton, looking like snow, 
 
 Here and there on the sombre, dark green 
 A sham which the branches seem to know 
 
 As they peep from their glittering screen. 
 Impossible birds, yet pretty withal, 
 
 On twigs are perched by some wire, 
 While from bottom to top the tree so tall 
 
 Holds false fruit, flowers and entire 
 Chains of gilded and silvered stuff 
 
 To challenge the eyes of our boy, 
 While his rosy face is beaming enough 
 
 To reflect in my own some real joy. 
 
 85 
 
LILY BELL CHIMES 
 
 Hast thou ever chanced to dwell 
 Near a dainty lily bell 
 Which, with myriads of its kind, 
 One can in the shadows find 
 Ringing out in silent night 
 Tiny tunes with all its might ? 
 Sunday eve these flow' rets preach 
 Whispered sermons — out of reach 
 Of hearing ! They are only heard 
 By each other, or a bird. 
 When the day breaks, lily bell, 
 Pure and pale, throws off the spell 
 Of the silent, dew-clad night. 
 Fair, so sweet, and snowy white, 
 Dainty lily smiles about 
 While its matin chimes ring out. 
 
 EDNA 
 
 Edna, the flowerets open their eyes 
 To gaze at your beauty glowing, 
 
 And flowers are wise. 
 Edna, the roses smile up in your face 
 And fancy for you are they growing, 
 
 To pin in your lace. 
 
 86 
 
Edna, the squirrel 'neath yonder tree, 
 Trusting your gentleness, willed to stay 
 
 With you and me ; 
 So I, too, am gentle perhaps, my sweet. 
 "Will you be good to me when I pray 
 
 That our lives may meet ? 
 
 APRIL DAYS 
 
 All nature seems a-budding 
 
 Reply to God's command, 
 And the tiny flowers are studding 
 
 The newly green-draped land. 
 A deep and grave emotion 
 
 Sweeps o'er me like the tide 
 Of the restless, heaving ocean, 
 
 And heaven seems opened wide, 
 
 The earth is all transcendent 
 
 With lovely, fragrant things ; 
 Each star there hanging pendant 
 
 A loving message brings. 
 Ah, may this reverent feeling 
 
 Come to each one and last, 
 A newer life revealing 
 
 Ere it sinks into the past. 
 
 87 
 
MEMORY'S SEA 
 
 Is THERE at your back, as you stand on the strand, 
 An ocean of memory which leaves on the sand 
 Small bits of blackened and shipwrecked joy ? 
 Have these yet power to grieve or annoy ? 
 
 Turn ! Look out on this sea of the past 
 At the beautiful vessel with glistening mast ; 
 How it braved the storm, pure, pearly white ; 
 It was freighted with love, but sank out of sight. 
 
 There in its wake comes the battleship ' ' Hope ' ' ; 
 Through storm and 'mid demons its way it must 
 
 grope. 
 And off in yon distance, high in the air, 
 Floats the black but majestic old cruiser " Despair." 
 
 Pause yet awhile till they all pass us by, 
 Then gaze again, nay not with a sigh — 
 See, a God-given sunbeam has found release 
 And shows through the darkness the steamer called 
 ' ' Peace. ' ' 
 
 A LOST IDEAL 
 
 Dearest, I see your rebellious curls 
 
 In memory's mirror to-day ; 
 They are golden brown — more than one twirls 
 
 From the care-taking hair-pin away. 
 
Dearest, I see your hazel-gray eyes ; 
 
 They show a glimpse of your soul, 
 Which is as pure as your brain is wise — 
 
 The two make an ideal whole. 
 
 Dearest, I hear your soft, low voice, 
 
 As it crept into my heart, 
 And wonder why fate made so harsh a choice 
 
 When it willed that we should part. 
 
 DAFFODIL 
 
 Yellow, golden daffodil, 
 Say you that the world is cold, 
 Think you that mankind is bold — 
 
 Earth a desert still ? 
 
 Smiling, joyous daffodil, 
 Say you that the sky's dark cloud 
 Wills your dainty head be bowed — 
 
 Shall you do its will ? 
 
 No, bright, golden daffodil, 
 Gleam and laugh ; make light the day. 
 Let the clouds with mortals stay — 
 
 Sunshine 's with you still. 
 
 8q 
 
DREAMS 
 
 O come into my realm of flowers 
 
 Whose every petal grew for thee, 
 And let it be a bower of ours ; 
 
 A rosy crown for you and me. 
 My troubled heart cries out for peace ; 
 
 Nights are sad and days are long ; 
 Graveness now demands release ; 
 
 Gladness would break into song. 
 
 O come into my realm of dreams 
 
 With Nature's real and living grace. 
 To my thinking nothing seems 
 
 Half so heavenly as thy face. 
 Dreams are misty joys and fine — 
 
 L,ead one in a blissful maze ; 
 But to have thee, heart divine 
 
 Is my dream of dreams, always. 
 
 COMPANIONSHIP 
 
 Sweet are the words, in gentle tone, 
 Of the one in whose face I often look, 
 
 As we sit together at eve alone ; 
 Or read in turn the self-same book, 
 
 Some romance, perhaps, of olden time. 
 
 Some quaint tale, or some sweet rhyme. 
 
 90 
 
MY SWEET 
 
 Flowers and candies and jewels galore, 
 
 Fit for a queen, for the one I adore ! 
 
 A wand of rose leaves she charmingly wields, 
 
 But her red lips for kisses she scarce ever yields. 
 
 A flow of sharp wit she has, besides brain, 
 
 And no man comes near who is n't her swain. 
 
 Yet she has no smallest idea of her power, 
 
 Nor how we are favored by ent'ring her bower. 
 
 I gaze at the buckle that shines on her shoe 
 
 And guiltily wonder whate'er I would do 
 
 If she should detect me adoring her so. 
 
 I know not indeed if 't would please her or no. 
 
 American Beauties I throw at her feet ; 
 
 Even they are not lovely enough for my sweet. 
 
 LINES 
 
 Some brood o'er grief, others make moan ; 
 
 'T is a matter of temperament, each has his own ; 
 
 But none has the merest idea of power 
 
 That a grief or a joy can exert in an hour 
 
 O'er the life of another — to make or to mar. 
 
 He who seeks peace, in spite of the scar 
 
 Of broken relations, is e'er in the right ; 
 
 For why live in darkness when one can have light ? 
 
 91 
 
NOT FORGOTTEN 
 
 How can I keep on so, 
 Wringing my heart with woe, 
 
 Ne'er to be free ? 
 Then would my eyes grow dim, 
 All joy and strength and vim 
 
 Starve, and for thee ! 
 
 Yes, thou hast turned from me 
 With scarce excuse or plea, 
 
 Not e'en a word 
 From those cold lips of thine, 
 Nor didst thou write a line. — 
 
 Friendship interred. 
 
 I ope'd my heart to thee, 
 That thou mightst therein see 
 
 Every fond thought. 
 Thou my poor efforts praised, 
 Which to please thee were raised 
 
 Then set at naught. 
 
 May be sometime e'en thou 
 Thy fond, fair face will bow 
 
 In pain of loss 
 Of those to thee most dear. 
 Ah ! then thou 'It find, I fear, 
 
 Pride were but dross. 
 
 92 
 
Heaven grant, ere then, my sweet, 
 Thou mayst a warm friend meet 
 
 To act my part. 
 Yet though I '11 not be there 
 Part of thy grief to bear, 
 
 Warm is my heart. 
 
 SAUCY RED ROBIN 
 
 There 'S a merry red robin outside in the tree ; 
 He is pertly looking straight down at me. 
 Mayhap a secret is wrapped in his song : 
 " Wait not too late, wait not too long." 
 
 l,ast night I was cruel out by the gate, 
 Said to a tale of love that I should wait 
 Some years, then marry. Was that wrong ? 
 " Wait not too late, wait not too long." 
 
 How know I thy meaning, robin so red ? 
 
 Does the love in my heart, then, urge me to wed ? 
 
 Saucy red robin, fly off with thy song : 
 
 ' ' Wait not too late, wait not too long. ' ' 
 
 93 
 
THE DAISY DELL 
 
 Down in the daisy-covered dell 
 
 They stood, and the birds all chirped, '"T is well," 
 
 While the rippling water seemed to say : 
 
 " They are young, they are lovers, I '11 run away." 
 
 A bright little zephyr that came amiss 
 
 Tried to share in their lover's kiss. 
 
 Down in the dell 
 Where daisies dwell. 
 " Oh, what bliss, 
 Sweetheart, is this ! 
 Do not depart, 
 Love of my heart, 
 For I live for thee, 
 My love," cried he. 
 
 Down on the daisy-covered ground 
 
 He kneels beside a mossy mound, 
 
 And the wind moans weirdly 'midst the trees, 
 
 Where, only a month, the breeze 
 
 Had playfully, on a day like this, 
 
 Tried to share in that lover's kiss. 
 
 Little brook, stay, 
 
 Nor run away ! 
 
 Hush, merry birds ; 
 
 Not chirps nor words 
 
 Can still his moan 
 
 As he stands alone 
 
 By the new-laid sod 
 
 With his dead — and God ! 
 
 94 
 
IN SOLITUDE 
 
 Shall I try to place on canvas 
 Such a scene as thou wilt prize ? 
 
 Shall I write in glowing words, love, 
 Rhapsodies to meet thine eyes ? 
 
 Shall I play in dulce measure 
 
 Lullabies unto thy soul ; 
 Or invoke the aid of sirens 
 
 That th}-- love might find its goal ? 
 
 Draw thee near with powers fleeting, 
 Magic sweetness not thine own ? 
 
 No ; not while this heart is beating 
 With a love that builds thy throne. 
 
 Mayhap quiet is my greeting, 
 Even strained may be my tone, 
 
 But I live again the meeting 
 
 In fair thoughts when quite alone. 
 
 In thy absence crave I no one ; 
 
 Solitude is peopled well 
 With a multitude of fancies — 
 
 Each a dream of thee could tell. 
 
 Prisoner thine, my thoughts indeed are. 
 
 Bound in slavery so proud 
 That the chains seem rose-hued vapor 
 
 With the strength of love endowed. 
 
 95 
 
AGE'S SNOW 
 
 Hands, once most eager, lay aside ; 
 
 Now age's snow-storm falls — 
 Brilliant fancies cease to ride 
 
 Along the sombre halls. 
 Repose is now the heart's high aim ; 
 
 Let twilight gently come 
 Into the day. Oh, but to claim 
 
 Sweet rest ! This voice is dumb ! 
 Varied mem'ries hover near ; 
 
 What was, not what is now, 
 Engulfs the mind ; but naught of fear 
 
 E'er settles on this aged brow. 
 
 The past, that great kaleidoscope, 
 
 'Midst winged joys and fairy meads, 
 Where grew the brilliant bud of hope ; 
 
 And romance, born by fiery steeds, 
 Passed by with dash and cheer. 
 
 Once more to view them, one by one 
 'T is well to look and hear, 
 
 Standing thus at set of sun 
 With ne'er a thought of fear, 
 
 The dream dies out, hurries past. 
 The snowy road, as yet untrod, 
 
 Is short, and leads at last 
 To sweet repose and rest — and God ! 
 
 96 
 
ONE NOOK 
 
 Just a scene of fragrant verdure, 
 
 Elsewhere unsurpassed in charm, 
 Where, unworn, unspoilt by handwork, 
 
 Nature reigns without alarm. 
 There a graceful, rapid river 
 
 Passes calmly hill and weir, 
 While its glancing, placid waters 
 
 Bear no burdens, none need fear. 
 
 Leafy bowers tone down the radiance 
 
 Of the sunshine, and some fern 
 Flourish in a vast green arbor. 
 
 Ah, the birds are quick to learn 
 Where the green is e'er the greenest, 
 
 And they chirp a greeting shrill 
 To things living, best or meanest, 
 
 Slothful worm or whip-poor-will ! 
 
 See the fox from thicket peering 
 
 And the saucy squirrel aswing ; 
 Boldly in his freedom fearing 
 
 Naught — he feels a very king ! 
 What a world of wonders quicken, 
 
 Till they part and fade away 
 In the sunny, sleepy bosom 
 
 Of the scene recalled to-dav. 
 
 97 
 
DISILLUSIONED 
 
 Margery spies a great crimson rose 
 And pulls it down to her pretty nose ; 
 A sharp cry rings out on the sunny morn — 
 Her fingers are pierced by an angry thorn. 
 
 But she, entranced by the lovely bloom, 
 Tries to pluck it to take it to her room ; 
 Places her fingers with utmost care, 
 Lest the thorns again her soft flesh tear. 
 
 She bends the flower to break it free, 
 But finds on its petals a bumble-bee. 
 Determined, she comes for the sweet rose later, 
 Only to find her troubles the greater ; 
 For the rose's heart had been eaten away 
 By a canker-worm on that fair day. 
 
 98 
 
THE DYING DAY 
 
 Bathed in the light from my casement 
 
 Stands the harp with its golden strings. 
 As I play, I find perfect effacement 
 
 From all gross and earthly things. 
 I follow the soothing onflow 
 
 Of sound almost sublime, 
 And feel a soft and gentle glow 
 
 Which my soul seeks many a time. 
 
 Then just as the last tone ceases, 
 
 So the light of the dying day 
 Fades out ; the dusk increases 
 
 L,ike a sorrow which conies to stay ; 
 But the harp, as it is bidden 
 
 By my hands, banishes care 
 With its gentle tones and hidden 
 
 Rejoicing, peace and prayer. 
 
 LofC. 
 
 99 
 
A TENDER HAND 
 
 There is a hand, a dainty hand, 
 
 That plays no trifling part ; 
 'T is not unlike a strengthening band 
 
 Secured around my heart. 
 It wipes away the tears of pain 
 
 And gives a warmth divine ; 
 It clamors not for praise nor gain, 
 
 This hand which oft holds mine. 
 
 O dainty, sweetly-perfect charm 
 That lingers in its touch ; 
 
 faint my heart is with alarm 
 L,est I not answer such 
 
 Endearing, tender, soft caress 
 With like sustaining power ! 
 
 1 tear my soul that tenderness 
 
 May gleam forth for an hour. 
 
THE MASK 
 
 Bring the powder and the mask, 
 They will nothing further ask. 
 See the glittering, smiling grace, 
 Where masks all — each glowing face. 
 Yonder dainty maiden there, 
 With the curling, gold-brown hair. 
 Finds the moments gliding by 
 Empty — with her swain not nigh. 
 Yet she laughs — such is her training — 
 While her joy in life is waning. 
 IvOok across the crowded room ; 
 There, where the azaleas bloom, 
 Stands the brilliant wife of one 
 Bankrupt, ruined ere rise of sun ; 
 Yet she stands in graceful ease, 
 Tho' the morrow's fall she sees. 
 Oh, bring the mask and powder nigh ! 
 Sing a song — to hide a cry. 
 
ECHOES 
 
 A SONG 
 
 Hark to the shrill, sweet echo 
 That rings from the hills afar, 
 
 Long for a tender handclasp, 
 Gaze at the evening star- 
 Love, dear, is where you are. 
 
 Lift to mine own those dear eyes, 
 
 Softly entone my name, 
 Ne'er let us mind the echoes 
 
 Saying it o'er the same — 
 
 That is the way joy came. 
 
 Heart once so sad with yearning 
 Now is with warmth aglow. 
 
 Raise but once more thy glance, sweet 
 Answer me soft and low, — 
 But joyful is the echo. 
 
JACK'S WIFE 
 
 This is the house that Jack built. 
 This is the cage he placed Evelyn in, 
 With pots and pans, kettles and tin. 
 
 This is the house that Jack built. 
 
 This is the maiden who married. 
 This is the maiden who married a man 
 Who pla3's a nice tune with tomato can. 
 
 This is the maiden who married. 
 
 This is the kitchen she stays in. 
 Her once white hands are seamed with toil- 
 The coal to bring up, the potatoes to boil. 
 
 This is the kitchen she stays in. 
 
 This is the cat who lives there, 
 The hungry cat who lies in the way 
 And looks about in wild-eyed dismay 
 At a delicate creature working all day. 
 
 This is the cat who lives there. 
 
 i°3 
 
WHEN THOU ART NEAR 
 
 Now daylight wanes and dusky night 
 
 Unfolds its wings to shadow all ; 
 But evening yields to my delight 
 
 Whate'er befall — whate'er befall. 
 Ah, better far than sun's best ray 
 
 Is twilight which will bring thee here ! 
 My midnight is the world's fair day — 
 
 My sunshine glows when thou art near ! 
 
 My heart cries out for thy sweet face — 
 
 'T is weary waiting long for thee 
 To come and gladden this poor place 
 
 Which, tho' so fair, is dark to me. 
 Thine eyes will teach me fullest joy ; 
 
 Thy voice enrich the silence drear 
 With sweetness such as ne'er can cloy, 
 
 When thou art near, when thou art near. 
 
 104 
 
A GLANCE 
 
 SONG 
 
 Such a glance, such a gleam from those beauteous 
 eyes 
 
 As I saw on that fair day ! 
 'T was a look, swift and fleet, full of glad surprise, 
 
 Leaving naught for tongue to say. 
 Then a soft little hand in this one of mine 
 
 Nestled down, but was withdrawn. 
 Ah, I '11 ne'er forget that dear glance of thine 
 
 In the moonlight on the lawn ! 
 
 The years followed when lone and lorn I stood 
 
 Until we met again, 
 And of all life's ill nothing seemed fair or good. 
 
 And hope was on the wane. 
 Then my heart gave a bound of great bliss and pride, 
 
 When I once more saw thy face 
 And stood welcomed back unto thy side, 
 
 Where my heart had found its place. 
 
 105 
 
ADIEU, LAST STAR 
 
 There are only eleven daisies in sight — 
 There were hundreds all abloom that night. 
 
 When we came to gather them he said : 
 " I love thee dearest, wilt thou wed? " 
 
 There are only two stars shining above — 
 There were many the night we spoke of love. 
 
 But why should the stars shine overhead — 
 Are they needed to show that love is dead ? 
 
 A storm now rages — the wind moans so, 
 Like pain in a heart that yields to woe. 
 
 Only scattered leaves now, the daisies are, 
 And clouds hang darkly. Adieu, last star ! 
 
 106 
 
OVERLOOKED 
 
 The brook ran softly, cool and clear ; 
 
 The day was warm ; 
 A thirsty traveler riding near 
 
 Prayed for a storm. 
 
 A fragrant bank of violets grew 
 
 Anear a maid 
 Who had, in searching, found but two 
 
 And felt dismayed. 
 
 A life was counting out its years 
 
 For some one's sake ; 
 That other, scorning love and fears, 
 
 The thread did break. 
 
 107 
 
A SHIELD 
 
 Indifference? Well, then, call it so. 
 Enough for me that you do not know 
 That this shield for my love serves so well, 
 That my eyes do not their poor story tell 
 Of love. O, yes, 't is indifference, you say, 
 That lives in my words and manner to-day — 
 This of all days. Oh, brain, keep up your pace ! 
 One mad moment, a change in my face, 
 And the work of months in self-control 
 Away like a cloud or a mist would roll. 
 Ah, why is it one's lips grow white 
 And a veil-like vapor benumbs the sight 
 At times like this ? Oh, merciless day ! 
 Can the sun shine on midst such dismay ? 
 Now, one great effort, a calm, cold tone, 
 A steady glance. Cease, heart, to moan, 
 Love must be banished, it can not stay — 
 Stony indifference reigns from to-day. 
 
 108 
 
SHALL WE 
 
 Joke ? It is jolly and friendly 
 And causes many a laugh ; 
 But a joke will end 
 When the heart of a friend 
 Is hurt by the thoughtless chaff. 
 
 Tease ? It is but a pastime 
 And seldom draws a frown ; 
 
 But tease no more 
 
 If feelings are sore, 
 Nor laugh at a heart cast down. 
 
 Smile ? It is bonny and winsome, 
 Like the sunshine's brightest ray. 
 
 Then pause if grief 
 
 Requires relief ; 
 You can smile another day. 
 
 109 
 
TO A FRIEND 
 
 Dear Major : 
 
 A sonnet I did threaten unto thee 
 And such, in truth, the following shall be : 
 I, knowing little, can not fully tell 
 What lofty thoughts do often rise and swell 
 Within thy mind. For there a mighty store 
 Of science dwells, sacred and classic lore, 
 Artistic worth, and practical good sense ; 
 Linguistic knowledge, perfect innocence 
 Of aught unworthy, mean, dull or small, 
 Ivives in thy brain. Nor is this nearly all. 
 Mayhap at times, say days or weeks apart, 
 Thou giv'st a fleeting thought unto the heart 
 Of this, thy friend, who, whatsoever doing, 
 Is then and ever thine. 
 
'■' 
 
 (m*i 
 
7 1901