LIBRAPY OF CONGR ESS. 
 
 ©|ap. - ©npyngf|t !f a.. 
 
 Shelf ...<^._C3 S S 
 
 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 
 
i 
 
/ 
 
 U / 
 
 SUGAR MAPLE. 
 
 
 i|fj I iniiii 
 
 PERU CHURCH 
 
*»1 
 
 'I 
 
 J 
 
^Am>^^ii^i 
 
 ^m>i 
 
 mWM 
 
 Sugar Maple 
 
 AND OTHER POEMS 
 
 CHARLES SHELDON FRENGIl. 
 
 ILLLSIRAILD. 
 
 i' 
 
 PITTSFIELD, MASS 
 
 H C. KELLS, PUBLISHER, 
 
 124 NORTH STREET, 
 
 1892 
 

 rr^s^ 
 
 ^2 
 
 l"? 
 
 •9 
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1892, 
 
 BY 
 
 CHARLES SHELDON FRENCH. 
 
 Thf t'tit/nirhtgs in f/ii\ hnnlc, ,-rrfpt tho^'' furintj />f/yt\ III, 
 'III, itri fiiitn pli'itniiftifihs hy V. L- Miil'ttf, lliiisihilt, Jfas\, 
 
 4l>l 
 
 S', lOl'l 
 
 J 
 
r 
 
 TO 
 
 MY MOTHER, 
 
 Tfliese TrurrjVle liT\ef3 deaeTrgtive of nspgy 
 
 faT'rr|=life -iri otit? old horqe, are inqoat 
 
 r- ■ 
 
 J? affeetio-qately lieSiaateS. 
 
 ■•Il ha-- much mctiical felicity and descriptive 
 power. It has tlie flavor of the woods and hills; 
 it recalls the taim-life ot" New England with its 
 happy niinj^lin;^ of thrift and amusement. Its theme 
 I has, I believe, never heen sinijj before. If pnlilished 
 
 I tliink it would tind many j^ratifiecl readers of its 
 simple and home-taught idylic verse." 
 
co^ye/^t;^. • 
 
 POEMS. 
 
 Sugar M«ple, 
 French's Hill, 
 Tlie Wood Tiirusli, 
 The Tories' C;i\e, 
 Ashmerc, 
 
 5 
 7,7 
 4' 
 
 r-HO\TlSIMECE. 
 
 ILLUSTRATION &• 
 
 Portniit of the Author. 
 
 Peru Hill, from Freucirs Hill. 
 
 The Sheldon Honieste;id. North Readiu',;, 
 
 Sunset Cottage, Mrs. .S. P. French's home, 
 
 W. K. Ford's house, liuih in 1794, 
 
 Peru Chinch, luiilt in tSoS, 
 
 The Ferner\ . Austin .Stowell's home. 
 
 The Aer\ , Hem\ Barlow's home. 
 
 Frencli's Hill anil I', (i. Creamer's house, 
 tVoni belt'rN of Peru Church. 
 
 Ashniere, from White Rock Hill. 
 
 These views, with one exception, are in Peru. Ma: 
 
 28 
 
 .■> 
 
 4' 
 
m 
 
 4 
 
Sugar Maple. 
 
 PART r. 
 
 Our cIkiuiIu'I' witidiiws, looking to\v;ir<l the east. 
 
 To vision spread an ever clianginor feast ; 
 
 From thence we watched upon tiie distant lihie 
 
 Tile <iolden Inid. eacli niuniin;^ tVesli and new, 
 
 \\ liicli spread its petals, liriglit as j^lowinjj flanie. 
 
 In chan<^in<; shapes and colors ne'er the same 
 
 Till XiLclit torsook her star-l)espan<jled wav 
 
 And morn's sweet lind nnlolded into day. 
 
 W'lial dreams were ours in that enchante<l room I 
 
 (Jur spirits walked in Eden's early hloom ; 
 
 No heautv lav beyond our chiklish grasp, 
 
 No prize too hij^h tor olu- younj; hands to clasp ; 
 
 Ours were the mines ot" CaliToruia's j^old 
 
 ;\n(l ours tiie Orient's riches all untold ; 
 
 Each emerald isle in ocean's lap that lay 
 
 Released its wealth to fancy's powerful sway. 
 
 On everv side broad belts of sturdy trees 
 Waved their defiance to the moimtain breeze ; 
 All summer-clad the firs anil spruces stood. 
 Vet naked-limbed the beech and maple wood. 
 
Diverse in nature, t'was a study rare 
 
 To watch the hahits of that bovine pair. 
 
 The fur of one was colored cherry red ; 
 
 His massive frame, witii lordly neck and heaii, 
 
 Refused no task ; his broad breast to the yoke 
 
 He firmly pressed oft till the harness broke. 
 
 His mate, gray-coated and of slender frame, 
 
 Who afterward consumption's prey became. 
 
 Shrank from the voke as though he fain woidd asl* 
 
 Deliverance from tlie unequal task. 
 
 To Red belonged a keen, observing eye. 
 
 Lighted bv fires of restless energv ; 
 
 Not such the gaze of his unruffled mate 
 
 Whose every act was studied and sedate. 
 
 But now upon expectant ears there fell 
 The welcome music of the breakfast bell. 
 We hastened to the kitchen's clean domain, 
 That fragrant spot beneath our mother's reign ; 
 In her strong charge the arsenal where lay 
 The stores which kept the wolf of want away. 
 And yet she told, it seems now like a dream, 
 Of night attacks upon the sweets and cream ; 
 No foes vvithciut, the robbers could have been. 
 And could it be th.at traitors dwelt within.' 
 We might ha\ e charged the spirits or tlieir ilk. 
 
Hilt wliv need tlicv such howls of hre;ul Miul iiink? 
 And who'll suspect ;i disoiiiliodied soul 
 Of such strange fondness for the sugar l)Owl? 
 He that as't rnav, the rogues were dressed in white. 
 And did their deeds unaided hv a light. 
 
 I'he wide-spread table. neatl\- clati in white. 
 
 AsMioke with \ianils met our hungry sight ; 
 
 The healthful tubers, natives of Peru. 
 
 Which our rich soil in great abundance grew, 
 
 'Neath pink-tinged skins the steaming Ivniy Rose 
 
 Their mines of mealy nutiiment disciose. 
 
 Our luMiilile table could at least command 
 
 The sweet-fleshed fish from hanks of Newfoimdland ; 
 
 In fragments cooked in fresh, delicious cream, 
 
 Such tare to us did food ambrosial seem. 
 
 Lord ! speed the day when every earthly home 
 
 .Shall own the source from whence its blessings come. 
 
 When each home circle eyeryvvhere shall raise 
 
 To Thee the yoice of grateful praver and praise. 
 
 Hoth young and cild were seated 'romid the hoard 
 
 The strengthening drink of faya's Isle was pomed 
 
 For older lips, \yhile younger ones partake 
 
 Of fresh new milk their morning thirst to slake. 
 
 While thus supplied, our busy mother liakes 
 
 .\ lib'ral dish of lightest buckwheat cakes. 
 
 Through summer time that snowy-blossomed field 
 
Harvests of sweets to busy bees dul yiekl. 
 Was it tliat such a loss might be supplietl 
 That we the sugar cane's rich juice applied? 
 We promised oft, as that repast we ate. 
 We'd soon partake of sweets more delicate. 
 
 Olu' mother's youth was passed by Ipswich streaui, 
 Still, unfoigot, she sees its waters gleam. 
 Life's later storms could uever queucii the tlame 
 Which e\erv dav a brighter blaze became 
 Of homeward love. The Gardener of mankind 
 Knows where each plant In his vast charge to lind. 
 And when he sees, in some deep wooded i)o\\er. 
 Slender and pale, a rare and \alued flower, 
 The feeble ]5lant to some wild hill he moves 
 And seems to scoiuge what he most dearh' loves. 
 But chills' winds, that almost seem its death, 
 Give to its leaves their vitalizing lireath. 
 And the iiot rays of summer sunlight slied 
 Bring back the colors that long since had fled. 
 The rose tiiat graced the \ales of Middlesex 
 Transplanted, now our Berkshire hills bedecks. 
 Its petals glow with hues of deepei' red, 
 With li\elier green its foliage is spread. 
 The wears trayeller, at close of day, 
 Pursuing still his rugged toilsome way, 
 
 lO 
 
i 
 
Has often bi'catlicd that delicate perfLime 
 And tuined aside to view the scented bloom, 
 While nianv a dweller on that mountain height 
 Has daily diunU its fragrance with delight, 
 And ollered up, in gratitude, a prayer 
 To Him whose loxing kindness placed it there. 
 
 Xo ])ri/.e to us was richer meed of praise 
 Than mother's stories of iier eariv days ; 
 VVe seemed to pick the cranberries that grew 
 On that broad marsh which I|)swich wantlers through, 
 Or go with her into the grove in search 
 Of sheets of bark peeled from the snowy birch. 
 And seated there within the leafy shade, 
 With her, in thought, tiie birch bark cups we made, 
 I'hen went with her those home ma<le cups to fdi. 
 With huckleberries from the pastured hill. 
 
 Oh, mother dear 1 beneath that eastern sky 
 In peaceful sleep do both yoiu- parents lie ; 
 And vet not sleep, for they have entered in 
 To that blest > state which knows not grief or sin. 
 As they approach the glorious pearly gates 
 What mightv One for their arrival waits.' 
 O'er that same ]jath the teet divine have been ; 
 It is the Sa\ iour l)ids the pilgrims in. 
 1 1 
 
Have you not heard, in summer starlight clear, 
 
 The sound of their familiar \oices near ! 
 
 Do not their hands from out the glowing- west 
 
 At eventide seem beckoning to rest? 
 
 Mav our kind Father give you grace to hear 
 
 With patient heart earth's weariness and care i 
 
 Ma\- His kind hand, throughout life's closing ilay, 
 
 Smooth to your feet the rough and thorny way ; 
 
 And when, at last. His loving voice in\ites 
 
 To rest and taste eternity's delights, 
 
 Mav your last hours with peace and joN be bright 
 
 As western skies in day's declining light ! 
 
FART SECOND. 
 
 The iVeqiK'nt drifrs of snow inipcck- 
 Our \voo(l-\\;ii(l jcmnicv slow : 
 
 The patient oxen take the lead. 
 Sunk hreast-ilccp in the snow. 
 
 The vomiLjer cattle seek in \ain 
 I'or iVeedoni iVoni tlieir load. 
 
 And with each quick successi\e strain 
 Sink dee])er in the road. 
 
 Witii graceful branches plinned with snow 
 [)roo])s low the li.dsani lir ; 
 
 From its protecting linihs hciow 
 We hear tlie partridge whirr. 
 
 Beneath the alder's lealless houghs 
 
 The rabbits' tracks we see. 
 And where was held a idglit's carouse 
 
 Around tliat heudock tree. 
 
Poor creatures! prett\ , still and shv, 
 .■^mall parts in Nature's plan, 
 
 ^\n<l \et tlieii" blood the snow must d\e 
 To furnish sport for man. 
 
 Tom \\intr\ \ et for sonj^ of hird. 
 
 Except the somlire cro«. 
 Whose harsh discordant note is heard 
 
 I'ault-lindin'4 ^^i'li the snow, 
 
 And brij^ht blue [axs that alwa\ s cried. 
 
 As it in inockerx 
 
 The slioutiuL; teaiiister> to deiide, 
 
 Their shiill cmniand. ''(Tee ! .U'ee !" 
 
 Across our path in f)otprints cleai-. 
 
 The t'ox's trail is found. 
 And far oil' in the Wdods we liear 
 
 Tb.e baxint; of the hound. 
 
 I'oor Re\nard! .Vround \ onder hill 
 A su ift detoui he makes. 
 
 And \ et the Inmter's cruel skill 
 ^Vnon his t;ra\ coat takes. 
 
Triumphal arches overhead 
 
 The \vo\cii branches made, 
 
 Thouojli missed the leatV curtain spreac 
 In summer tor a shade. 
 
 A hillock in the wood's embrace 
 Our father's practiced eve 
 
 Selected for the ••boilin<4-place" 
 A lolt\ asli tree b\ . 
 
 As Israel's race, in hol\- fear. 
 
 When enterint; Canaan's land, 
 
 Of unhewn stones an altar rear 
 At [oshua's command, 
 
 ()ur work relationship might claim 
 
 As tjuided b\' no rule, 
 Our ftnest altar rou'_jh we frame 
 
 Polluted b\ no lool. 
 
 The maple throujih the summer yields 
 
 A most luxuriant shade, 
 1?\ no tree in the heated tields 
 
 Is cooler shelter made. 
 
.\ltli(iiiyli its lirL--l>liiinl, (liop in drop. 
 
 It nncciinphiininjj' ^ivcs, 
 'Twoiild sL'cni. though thus of lite ile|5ri\"oil. 
 
 It \ ct iiKire ricliK li\cs. 
 
 Our fatlicf with the liit so l^eell 
 
 The cii:irsc hark pii-iccs thrdujili, 
 And (hop li\ drc]|) tlie sap is seen 
 Emer<'"iii>> to our \ iew . 
 
 W'lienee shi'uld wc that rave nectar seel 
 
 ()ur thirs!\ lips desire: 
 Xot from the beech tiee's shaven cheek 
 
 Xiir larch's towering spire: 
 
 \(it t"n)ni the 1 irill\ exerj^reen 
 In coiutK Lfarnients dressed, 
 
 Xci sweetness coni'ses tliroiii;!! the vein 
 Within its sdinlire breast ; 
 
 Xiil tViini tile soft and pliant pine 
 
 Xor biittle ashen wcxid : 
 Xcil one can \ ield this sweetness Hne 
 
 'rh()Ut;h fraught with other jiood. 
 i6 
 
A s\v;ini|') 1if\(>ii<l the iii;i]5les lav, 
 
 The l.um U yrcw between, 
 Wlidse l)oii<4^1is, nil iiiaiiv a ImlidaN, 
 
 W'c rohlieil of e\ ert;ieeii. 
 
 Oft s()11l;1iI I)V us in summer lioms 
 
 'l"he nidssN spot we knew. 
 Where. lil'lin<i pitchers to the showers. 
 
 The Sarr.ieenia <.'rew. 
 
 We Unew where sle|it "ncatli snowv shrou 
 
 I'he pni|)le oreliis frinijed. 
 
 Its colors l>rii;ht as is the clouil 
 
 Bv summer sunset tinjrfd. 
 
 Oft at the mi(lni<;ht hour I've stood 
 And heard the sap-drops tall. 
 
 Throutihout tlu' lone aisles ot" the w 1 
 
 From llu- rouijli niapL-s all. 
 
 The moon. thi(UiL;h rilts ot snow-cloud white. 
 
 Shone lull and clear o'crhead, 
 .\ud shadows mixed with showers ot" liijht 
 
 I poll the snow were spread. 
 
 ■7 
 
When slinip tiitjlit-tVosts the rising sap 
 With unseen power restrain, 
 
 And (lav's succeeding wainith anew 
 Unhjcks the maple's vein 
 
 The maple sap, with life renewed. 
 
 Each wo(id\ arteiv thrills, 
 And so(in each pail thi'oughout the woo; 
 
 With liquid sweetness tills. 
 
 In hogsheads drained of southern sweets 
 The gathered sap is stored. 
 
 And thence into the hoiling-pans 
 At intervals is poured. 
 
 Oh father! still I see thy fice 
 
 Illumined liv the light 
 That gleameil upon it from the arch 
 
 That w ell-rememlieied night. 
 
 I hear again the anecdotes 
 To eager listeners tokl. 
 
 Of voiu' adventures in the mines 
 or California's gold. 
 
With vou again, in tiimiijjht. I mav 
 The toilsome ji)uriK'\' take 
 
 I'pon the Atlantic's lu-avinjj breast 
 .\n(l Xicarairnan laUe. 
 
 1 I lead a;_;ain l''loii(lian Ke\s. 
 
 Where, 'nii<i tiie ocean's spra\ . 
 \'in\ picked the sea-shells, sonxenirs 
 
 I'or lo\ed ones lar a\\a\. 
 
 With \i)ii 1 reach the (iolden Gale, 
 With \()n the mines explore. 
 
 And from the rich earth liberate 
 rile precious hits of ore. 
 
 I see the cahin which \ou reared 
 
 Beside the saiuK har, 
 '1 he rustic windows it contained, 
 
 liach pani- a pickle-iar. 
 
 I hear your lips again recite 
 The \ iolence and crime 
 
 Which in its eaiK da\s disgracei 
 That semi-tropic clime. 
 ■9 
 
I see that shrewd, ileceitful wretch 
 Who, :ill one Sabbatli day, 
 
 Contemptuous of God and man, 
 Fired golden ore away. 
 
 Across the stream from where lie stood 
 
 His unproducti\e "claim" 
 At least in one selected spot. 
 
 Enriched with tfold liecame. 
 
 To unsuspecting >'prospecters" 
 
 Upon succeeding days. 
 This master of deceptiye art 
 
 His worthless land displays. 
 
 The miner leads them tf) his "claim," 
 Equipped with pick and spade ; 
 
 Thev dig ujion the \ery spot 
 Which he his target made. 
 
 As they liehiild the prize tlesired. 
 
 Amid spadefids of earth. 
 They purchase all his interest 
 
 At man\ times its worth. 
 20 
 
Thus with our father's anecdotes 
 Tiic hours of evening spetl, 
 
 L ntil the ehilU rain-clouds (h'ew 
 Tiicir curtain overlicad. 
 
 In pro\ idcncc for such a storm 
 A slu-hcr had heen made 
 
 Of ]jolcs leposed on heechen posts, 
 \V'ith rough hoards on them laid. 
 
 Beneatli tliat (hipping coverlet 
 The \vear\ watchers crept, 
 
 And each, in tmii, the fire renewed 
 W hilc his com])anion slej^t. 
 
 lUit morning comes; the sUy is clear 
 The snow-envelo])ed land 
 
 And ever\ ohject, far and near. 
 In ic\ armor stand. 
 
 Has human architectinal skill 
 
 Such wimdrous roof ere planned 
 
 As that which with its glitt'ring ilonie, 
 The maple pillars spanned: 
 21 
 
Ascend with mc the glowinfj slopes 
 Which lend to yonder hill, 
 
 And let the fecists of he:iiitv there 
 Your hini[;T\ \ision fill I 
 
 Aho\e the lessei' heiijhts which rise 
 In wild prot'nsion 'round. 
 
 Does noble Grexlock prondlv rem- 
 its summit forest-crowned. 
 
 Beneath us, westward, lies Ashmere, 
 
 A lovelv moiuitaindake, 
 Whose waters from the leapinji hiooUs 
 
 Unceasing tribute take. 
 
 Their peaks against the western sky 
 Tlie Catskill Mountains raise: 
 
 Monachiock, o'er New Hampshire's hills. 
 Its pyramid dis])lavs. 
 
 Like trust\ sentinels that i^juard 
 Connecticut's bright streauT, 
 
 Their tops iiglow with mornint; light 
 Mounts Tom antl IIol\<ike gleam. 
 
iiilri 
 
 M.ij |oi i ninii 
 
 [-. W - III ■ iiii—in rif -li I iiiMMiiii' 
 
Upraised above the Worcester hills 
 
 O'er many a lovely home, 
 'rhrouiih purest atmosphere we see 
 
 W'aehuselt's lieauteous dome. 
 
 See near us uolile Bryaut's houie 
 
 Auiid the Hampshire hills! 
 His uauie is <rra\eu oti its rocks 
 
 Aud uiuiuiured by its rills. 
 
 Let us thank God that lie has sent 
 
 One man these hills amon<j. 
 Whose deeii-toned voice so truthfullv 
 
 Their lo\i-liness has sunj;. 
 
 Oh, IJrvant '. In the hearts ot" men 
 
 Tin memory is secure 
 So lonii -'^ these, thy native hills. 
 
 In majesty endure. 
 
 But at oiu- teet, the fairest siprht 
 
 In all this -glorious \iew. 
 Lifts hii,di toward heaven its steeple bright 
 
 Tlie white church of Peru. 
 
But on the glowing nioiintain-tnp 
 \\ c max not ahva\s stay, 
 
 For ckit\' now with urgent voice 
 From pleasure calls awa\'. 
 
 The thickened svrup in the pans 
 
 Is waiting oiu' return ; 
 Beneath it hut tlie glowing lirauds 
 
 Of last night's watch-tires huiii. 
 
 Deposited in buckets rude 
 
 On neck-\'okes hung with care, 
 
 Out from the woodland's (|uiet aisles 
 The s\ru|i iTonie we hear. 
 
 Oh father ! when earth's night is passed 
 
 And dawns eternal da\, 
 JNIav our unfettered soids at last 
 
 Rejoicing, hjur aw u 
 
 The fruitage of a Christian lite 
 To th.it most glorious home 
 
 Where naught of bitterness or strife 
 Or sinrow e\"cr come. 
 24 
 
I'ART THIRD. 
 
 Our motlier phinnt'd a siif^at-feast. 
 
 Aiul nortlnvard, soiitlivvanl, west and east 
 
 Sent invitations to each <;iiest 
 
 The maple's tViiit with us to taste. 
 
 New Encrlaiuleis where'er thev roam, 
 Hear tliis remenihrance of tlieir home : 
 Alth()ii>jh their \a<^iant feet mav strav 
 Across th\ prairies. Iowa ; 
 Or where tlie Indian waters smile 
 .\roimd sweet Cevion's loveK isle : 
 Or where, at eve. the shadows fall 
 Of China's vast ikfensive wall: 
 (.\n ejiililem of the slonx heart 
 Which held it from tlie world apart. 
 iJiit which, beneath the <;os]5el's ra\ , 
 Is warriiing into life to-dav.) 
 Or where New Bedford's hardv race 
 Pursue the w hale in dariny chase ; 
 Or wliere, on gospel missions sent, 
 Tlie\ traverse the "dark continent,'" 
 
The henrcrs of n gift as free 
 To Afric's sons as vou and mc ; 
 These exiles from their iiatise soil 
 Will pause amid their liailv toil, 
 ^Vnil taste anew the \<i\ that fills 
 These feasts upon their native hills. 
 
 The \onnL; man eai^er is to share 
 
 Elis iTuitation with the fair, 
 
 And fearfnl lest another's xoice 
 
 In\'ite the lad\ of his choice. 
 
 The first liri^ht moon his stops will liml 
 
 Which throii'^h dark wooils and \alle\s wind, 
 
 Throuj^li .L;'or<ies choked with snow-ihitts deep. 
 
 Where ice-imprisoned lakelets sleep, 
 
 Or whei'e the lirook's dwarf waterfdl. 
 
 Impatient, heats its rock\ wall. 
 
 He sees, athwart the exeniuL^ sk\ , 
 
 Related wild f.wl n.iithward Hv : 
 
 As s(]mi' daik ;_;ro\e he pas>es throiiL;h 
 
 He hears the owl's grnt'f challenLje "Who?" 
 
 He |)anses on a rustic hridtje, 
 |-5eneath which, <lown a rock\ riilge, 
 The waters leap: \oii liowl tVom ont 
 He oft has swung the speckled trout: 
 
 26 
 
He needs, perh.tps, ;i liner >k\\\ 
 To win capricious girlhood's will. 
 
 A <jiist-inill stood, lonsj years ago. 
 Ik'side the brook, the bridge below ; 
 A mossv mill-stone only shows 
 Where once its (lnst\- walls arose. 
 'I'lie waters now unhindered go 
 \\ith joxful leaps to pools below. 
 
 Protecteil by a hemlock gro\e 
 The sweet-.scented arbutus throye ; 
 Its leases of changeless eyergreen 
 Emerging from -the snow were seen. 
 .\t .April's close or early Mn\ 
 Does this meek \ ine its load displa\' 
 Of chalices of ])ink and wiiite. 
 To I'lora's lovers a delight. 
 
 I low man\ pictureil scenes like these 
 I'he dreamer on the old bridge sees. 
 
 lie sees the prett\ student come 
 
 .\n(l phick, Yor her berbarlnm, 
 riie trailing \'ine whose blossoms bear 
 
 Such fragrance through the .Vpril air; 
 
 He sees the motle\ cavalcade 
 
 Which toward the jnill its journev made; 
 
A hap])v hi)ii>,(.-li()l(l, loving, kind : 
 Wiiat titter cnihlcni can we find 
 Of Heaven on earth : each member seeks 
 Tile other's jov : each act liespeaks 
 The ceaseless love that animates 
 The li\es of all : such love awaits 
 No formal word, bnt lightest things 
 Attest its deep and hidden springs. 
 
 On I'erii Hill, that festive night, 
 The old chnrch stood in snowv white. 
 Onr fathers built their house of praver 
 L pf)n a mountain-summit, where 
 
 The water from its west roof-side 
 Sought Ilonsatonic's bus\ tide, 
 .\ni\ tnrne(l tlu' mill-wheels which it t'ound 
 L'pon its jouniev to the sound. 
 
 The drojis wliich on its east roof fell 
 With coinitless others went to swell 
 The brook which constant tribute ga\'e 
 Connecticut's sea-seeking wave. 
 
 Keturn ! Oh. ancient, hol\- davs, 
 When to these couits of prayer and praise 
 The steeple-bell, with accents strong, 
 Called forth a luipp\, numerous throng 
 From manv a rockv, wind-swept height, 
 -Vnd v.de latc-songht b\' morning light. 
 
The old lirick Ikiusc, just opposite, 
 
 Is now from top to bottom lit. 
 
 The jinglincj of the mcriN' Ijells 
 
 The earlier sjiicsts arrival tells ; 
 
 The boll-sled outfit we mav see, 
 
 Which bears a jollv family ; 
 
 Though used for drawing logs of late 
 
 'Tis loaded now with human freight. 
 
 Strength seems to be the main idea 
 
 Which blossoms info being here; 
 
 We hear it in the lust\ shout 
 
 Which calls the host so (|uickl\ out ; 
 
 We see it in the stalwart plan 
 
 On which aie framed both team and man 
 
 'Tis felt in those impulsive grasps 
 
 With which his neighbor's hand he clasps. 
 
 There next arrives a cutter new 
 W'hose shell-like box will hold but two. 
 The horse, light-limbed and lielicate. 
 In harness liright with silver plate. 
 The silverv lielK. whose tinkling liglit 
 Scarce broke the silence of the night. 
 Their liveh te.stimonv bear 
 To our plnsician's watchful care. 
 I 'specialh' remember one, 
 
 30 
 
Our littlu social svstt-m's sun ; 
 
 L'liselfish almost as tlic liijlit. 
 
 His fellows' io\- was his (k'li<ilit : 
 
 [lis mcnv words will intxTWcavc 
 
 With mciiif)rics ot that jovous eve ; 
 
 Docs not tlnoii<;li such a presence shine 
 
 An influence fnini the I'rieiul divine? 
 
 I low can we <lonht that such as he 
 
 (iain liappx' inniiortalit\ . 
 
 \\ ilh CInist his I'rienil, he knew no fear. 
 
 And when so quids Iv smitten here. 
 
 Exnltantlv his sonj; arose. 
 
 For such a life most littintr close. 
 
 In lliat old-l"ashiiine<l lire-place, 
 'I'lie ancient kitchen's tpiainlest i^race, 
 The hea\\ kettle now is lnni<4 
 .\nd on the stout crane inward swunj; 
 Heiieatli, the liirch wood <rives its heat 
 Within it leaps the syrup sweet, 
 Its surface an epitome 
 Of some enr.i<jed tempestuous sea. 
 Anon the danclny;, yellow foam 
 L!p to the kettle's brim doth come, 
 And. fren/ied In the red-hot l;1o\v. 
 It threatens all to overflow: 
 .3' 
 
A hit of butter is applied 
 Which niakeh the mutiny siiliside. 
 The liu\s for deepest (h'ifts have sought 
 And freshest, purest saow have brought, 
 And this is liiiuK pressed within 
 And rounded o'er the pans of tin. 
 Sage experts now the s\rnp trv : 
 \\ ith wooden hidles thev apph 
 
 The boding li(|uid to the snow ; 
 At once the s\ rup's her\ glow 
 Is c|uencheil ; the hardeneil sugar takes 
 A lirittle form, and glass-like, breaks. 
 The gra\ e inspectors now admit 
 
 i'is lor the daintiest palate ht. 
 
 (Jur pastor, wise and temperate. 
 Now sadh fails to extricate 
 His molars, tard\ to relax 
 'I'heir grip upon the maple wax. 
 His fl<ick enjo\ his puzzled plight 
 And |3lv witli questions, left and light. 
 While he, in silence, makes reph 
 lint through each meir\ laughing e\e. 
 1 call to mind one presence there 
 That graced our gatherings fir pra\er, 
 .\nd when disciples nionthlv met 
 Tidings from mission lauds to get, 
 
 .■52 
 
Her section to report would be 
 The (llstnnt ishiiuls ot the sea. 
 When other l;nn|)s were IlieUering low 
 Hers kept its stcaciv, ciiangeless glow 
 .\n(l held its strong persistent flame 
 Till morning's hright re\ival came. 
 
 A namesake of the greatest sage 
 \\ hose words illumine anv age, 
 (.\n(l vet in one important thing 
 (^nite dirterent from the Hel>rew king, 
 For he had never found a wife 
 To ^hare the ills and jo\s ol lite, 
 .Mthough in our society 
 None showed more gallantr\ than he.) 
 -Sits 'mid a ga\ and \outhful throng 
 Who till with wax his whiskers long: 
 He tries, but vainl\. to oppose 
 The work of these fair temale foes. 
 
 .\ \()Uth we held in high esteem, 
 Who hlletl our tani y's fondest dream 
 Of manliness and cultured mind, 
 Of mental power and grace combined. 
 
 Of nuiscle well allied to brain 
 .\nd both submissive to the reign 
 Of Christ's own spirit; one whose hand 
 ,3.3 
 
Can hold the plow o'er ^t(Mi\ laml. 
 And .skillfiiUv the mill-saw Lfuide 
 Alon<j the heinlocU's knotty side. 
 And \ et whose mental prowess calls 
 For praise in \\ illiams College halls. 
 Repeats to one, who gladh lieai'S, 
 The stor\ ot' his stndions years. 
 
 Hers Is tile facile pen to trace 
 
 The litlie mos(|nito\ sancv grace 
 
 Hack to the wa\side water warm 
 
 \\ hich nonrislies the wriggler's form. 
 
 Hers the discerning eve to seek 
 
 To make each tins Howeret speak 
 
 The secret which its Maker hid 
 
 Its inmost dark recesses 'mid. 
 
 Oh, ))atient, thoughttul friend of mnie ! 
 
 Of snch inipiiring minds .is thine 
 
 Are made those snns of intellect. 
 
 Which to onr lower sight reflect 
 
 The hrightness of the Father's e\ e 
 
 Out from our scieutdic sk\ . 
 
 And thou wert theie. whose highest aim 
 The hon(n' of tin Father's name, 
 Whose lips are tremulous in prayer 
 .S4 
 
And eves grown dim in Zion's care, 
 Whose falterinij voice, these later days. 
 On Snndavs reads our hvmns of praise. 
 A pillar in God's temple liere 
 Is thy place in this eartlilv sphere : 
 ICarth's proudest kinjj might ciivv thee 
 Thv honor and humilitv. 
 
 Mut now the shepherd of our (lock, 
 (Whose 'prisoned jaws at last unlock 
 Their sweet embrace, too fViendlv quite, 
 .\rising, bids the guests >'(jood Night." 
 
 '•We thank our I'arent. wise and good, 
 l"or lo\e's rich gilts in plenitude ; 
 That we have tbund, while gathered here. 
 Such warmth of friendship, social cheer: 
 Such seasons make life's patlnva\ bright : 
 Friends, host and hostess, all. Good Xight !" 
 
 <M/^^^(Vc) 
 
THE WOOD THRUSH. 
 
 The watcli-flre in the west is cold 
 rh;it late in oroiireoiis splendor rolled 
 Its chariot-wheel o'er seas of gold. 
 
 The nianv-colored sunset dve, 
 
 The r.ainhovv hues of earth and skv 
 
 Hefore the coming darkness flv. 
 
 \'et lingers still upon the rim 
 Of the horizon, cold and grim, 
 A yellow light fast growing dim. 
 
 1 >tan(l within the solemn wood. 
 No lireezes stir the solitude, 
 The loneliness seems over-good. 
 
 ^'et clear above the gurgling rush 
 ( )l" waters through the alder lirush, 
 I hear the sweet \oice of the thrush. 
 
 .\ tin\ bell, whose siher peal, 
 
 As saddest memories o'er me steal. 
 
 In deepest depths of soul I feel. 
 
A sadness still, yet not despair, 
 
 A sombre ecstasx of prayer, 
 
 A voice that climbs Hope's golden stair. 
 
 Again the evening air is still. 
 Save where the gentU flowing rill 
 -Sends throngh the air a dreamv thrill. 
 
 But through the ehamliers of the brain. 
 In horn's of joy and hours ot pain 
 The thrush's song I hear again. 
 
 So sweetlv sad, so sadlv sweet, 
 Those bursts of music, wild and fleet, 
 .Seem songs escaped from Heaven's seat. 
 
 eW^^^\A^ 
 
 .•^8 
 
THE TORIES' CAVE, LENOX. 
 
 Below October Mountain 
 
 Tlif Housatonic flows, 
 Fed l>y the raiti-clond's t'onntain 
 
 And \)v dissolvin;^ snows. 
 
 Plunging from heights forsaken 
 
 Through many a leafv nook, 
 One mountain stream has taken 
 
 rile name of Roaring Brook. 
 
 A cleft in .Mount October 
 
 The foaming waters lave ; 
 
 The yellow yiolets sober 
 
 Bloom near the humble caye. 
 
 In those old days, whose glories 
 To patriots all arc dear. 
 
 Some hated, hinited tories 
 
 Found safe seclusion here. 
 
 In constant anguish fearing 
 
 The dawn of each day's sun. 
 
 In iloubt lest death were Hearing 
 I)\- patriot rope or gun, 
 
 ^9 
 
Thev with the wolves disputed 
 The ligiit to shelter here, 
 
 While shad-trees bloomed and fruited 
 And leaves grew brown and sere. 
 
 No sound of builder's hammer 
 This ancient dwelling heard ; 
 
 The brook's incessant clamor 
 Its deep recesses stirred. 
 
 At dead of night a woman. 
 
 The fugitives brought food. 
 The onlv vision human 
 
 Which In'oke their solitude. 
 
 Oft did the l-JerUsliire \eomen 
 The forest search in quest 
 
 Of their few torv foemen. 
 
 Nor this rude shelter guessed. 
 
 A centurv has humbled 
 
 The refugees' abode : 
 ■Stones fiom the clitl" ha\e crumbled 
 
 Beneath the mountain mad. 
 
 October Mount its glory 
 
 O'er Housatonic shows, 
 Whilst patriot and tory 
 
 In dust, at peace, repose. 
 
 4" 
 
fj 
 
 
 
ASHMERE. 
 
 (\VRITTi;\ ABOir TWKXTY YEARS AGO.) 
 
 Oh. Icnch hike-lcl ! nc-stlincr low 
 
 Our rii<4;;<.-(l HLMkshirc Hills between, 
 
 Not siiinnier's lieiit nor winter's snow 
 Can dim the pleasure of thy scene. 
 
 I low often in the starlit nitjht 
 
 I've viewed thee from this rocky heiiiht. 
 
 And e'en at midnight's lonely liour 
 
 IIa\e climlied to this, mv broad watch-tower. 
 
 To gaze upon tin form, 
 Or watched thv ripples scud beneath 
 The cliillv wind's swift-swee|)ing breath 
 
 Before a tiumder-storm. 
 
 Tin modest beauty and sweet grace 
 Remind me of a sister's face; 
 The thought within my memory stirs 
 That this. th\ birth-year, too is hers. 
 Oh, mirror of the sky and earth ! 
 1' 
 
How nian\ men of future liirth 
 
 Shall hold the .spot where 1 look forth, 
 
 ()'erio\e(l, like me, at seeing. 
 Enchanted with thv loveliness, 
 Thv niossv marge and woody dress. 
 Shall all thv tinted heantv bless. 
 
 Unconscious of ni}" being. 
 
 Be thv pure waters ever clear, 
 Thou jewel of the hills, Ashniere ! 
 And mav the sister of thv age 
 Endure like thee the tem|3cst's rage, 
 Subdue, like thee, surrounding strife. 
 Charmed to a sweeter, gentler life. 
 
 (M/^^^yVVc) 
 
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
 015 897 122 7