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THE BOOK 
 
 PLEASANT LEGENDS, 
 
 THOUaHTFUL HOURS. 
 
 TENDER MEI.ODIES, 
 
 SECULAR AND SACRED. 
 
 BEING 
 
 A COLLECTION OF CHOICE SELE(^TIONS 
 
 FROM THE WRITINGS OF 
 GEORGE WASHINGTON KETTOMAN. 
 
 ANNO DOMINI 1875. 
 
 (ii;r'l'Y8BURG: 
 
 J. K. WrBI,K I'HINTKK, COUNER OK WASHIXrjTON AND NORTH STREETS. 
 1875. 
 

 Entered according to 
 
 Act of Congress, in 
 
 the 
 
 year 
 
 1H7BI by 
 
 
 G. 
 
 W. KETTOMAN, 
 
 
 
 
 In the oflBce of 
 
 thel 
 
 jibrarian of Congress 
 
 at 
 
 Washington. 
 
THE MOUNTAIN BARD. 
 
 BY REV. EDWIN H. NEVIN, D. D. 
 
 We had occasion recently to visit one of the most beautiful sections 
 of Pennsylvania, where mountain, valley, and stream combine to cre- 
 ate the various types of landscape so necessary to the development of 
 the poetical element in man's nature, and, while enjoying the peaceful 
 quietude of a retired and unfrequented village, at the hospitable home 
 of the village pastor, we met with a youth, of some eighteen or twenty 
 years, whose history interested us greatly. 
 
 We learned of him that he was born near tlie town of Gettysburg, 
 in Adams County, Pennsylvania, if we rightly remember, in the year 
 1 H.'jS, but when very young removed with his parents to the mountains 
 in the southwestern part of his native county, where he yet resided at 
 the time of our meeting. 
 
 As we first saw him entering the pastor's home, there was nothing 
 very noticeable in his appearance. Rustic and unpretending in his 
 manners and bearing, with no apparent effort to cidtivate fashion or 
 style, the main thing we observed was that he was a young man of 
 thoughtful mould, earnest heart, clear eye, and an evident fixedness 
 of purpose. Having a roll in his hand, he reminded us somewhat of 
 Bunyan 's portraiture of the Pilgrim. From the estimable pastor we 
 learned that he was a youth of uncommon natural abilities, and after 
 having read a short literary production of his, were astonished at 
 learning lie was tntirdy h<- If -taught. Reared in the midst of the 
 friendly forest which yield to his father a scanty support, with no near 
 neighbors and but few friends with whom to hold intercourse, the 
 youth grew up in solitude, making his comi)anions of the trees and 
 flowers of the mountainside, the crystal bounding brooks and stream- 
 lets, and the birds who awoke him with theii- early matinal warbling. 
 
 Witli these surroundings, the tendency of most minds would have 
 been toward the unthinking wildness of the "gentle savage." There 
 was no incentive to intellectual exertion or improvement. But it 
 seems that the majestic works of God were silent teachers to the 
 thirsty soul of tlun boy. The grand scenery that stretched in wide 
 
4 THE MOUNTAIN BARD. 
 
 expanse before his view as he stood in the cottage dooi' seemed to stir 
 his soul with high purposes and noble resolves. The rustling leaves 
 and the sighing winds whispered to him the most delightful thoughts 
 of poesy, and all of nature's handiwork brought to his eager, recep- 
 tive mind views of the Divine Creator who made all things and pro- 
 nounced them good. 
 
 Humanly speaking, this young mind stood alone. There was no 
 sympathetic or appreciative person at hand to draw out and develop 
 the germs of genius which stirred within him; and, to aU appearances 
 there was no alternative but that he should, when he arrived at a suffi- 
 cient age, shoulder his polished axe and follow the humble pursuit of 
 his aged parent. 
 
 This indeed he was required to do, and he did it without complaint, 
 but with each reverberating blow of the axe it would seem new and 
 heaven-sent thoughts germinated in his mind. 
 
 At night, while the aged wood-chopper and family slept the sleep 
 that comes only to honest toil, the boy pored over his books, endeav- 
 oring to satisfy his thirst for knowledge, and upon many a belated 
 traveler has the light of his tallow dip gleamed out from the little 
 window of his attic chamber. "We had an opportunity later to exam- 
 ine particularly some of the writings of this highly gifted youth, and 
 we took pains to show them to friends of literary culture on our re- 
 turn to Philadeli)hia, all of whom were greatly impressed with the un- 
 doubted evidences of his genius. 
 
 He has written several thousand pages of manuscript, b\it has never 
 published anything, except probably, a few stray short poems. Per- 
 haps seclusion for a short time yet may be conducive to his welfare as 
 a forthcoming writer, that when he does come forth, he may do so 
 with the more power and lustre. Nearly all the great poets of the 
 world have been men of humble l)irth, and we anticipate for this 
 promising young man a brilliant future.— PMladelphia Commercial 
 and Manufacturers' Gazette. ' 
 
 George Washington Kettoman was born about two miles from 
 Gettysburg, in the county of Adams, and State of Pennsylvania, on 
 the 17th day of April, ISoH. 
 
I'REFATORY REMARKS. 
 
 The foUowiuo- oiip hundred selected from about three thousand 
 
 l)Hges, dear reader, are dedicated to you. I trust you will read thein 
 
 with impartiality and kindly feeling toward the author, thereby doing 
 
 to another as I know you would have him do to you. I invite a just 
 
 criticism from all. You will find my writings savor of sorroiv. and 
 
 even dea/h — kiiow this that F have suffered ! Hoping you may find a 
 
 rich moral on every page 1 remain in tender communion 
 
 Your Friend the 
 RiNGGOL]), Mi>., 1875. BARD. 
 
1®^' 
 
 g^leasmtil ^e|eitl$i 
 
 1^ 
 
PLEASANT LEGENDS. 
 
 CELESTA. 
 
 Hear it and die ! the story of Celesta fair ; 
 Few souls have heard it in this world of care. 
 And yet it is so wondrous, pure, and sweet, 
 That in the feelino- heart it takes its seat, 
 And reigns su])renie in Memory's pictured hall, 
 Even till death's deep shadows darken all : 
 But 'tis so fraught witli the strange mysteries of the skv% 
 That men know hut one half, the rest belongs on high. 
 
 Far off in a warm southern sea there lies 
 A blooming isle 'neath soft cerulean skies, 
 Where frost and wintry storms were never known, 
 And from where gay song birds have never tiown, 
 And various flowers blossom the year round, 
 And spangle all the green delightful ground ; 
 WTiere faint winds blend their hymn with that of falling rills. 
 And rainbows bend and burn above the ancient hills. 
 
 ^ And it is said this Paradise on earth 
 
 Is the proud land of fair (celesta's birtli, 
 
 Radiant Celesta, sweeter, fairer far, 
 
 Than fairest nymphs of spicy Scio are ; 
 
 More pure in heart, more heavenly in mind. 
 
 Than all the rest of sinful human kind : 
 So beautiful that man in awe of her did live, 
 l^OT dared the noblest youth for her pure heart to strive! 
 
10 PLEASANT LEGENDS. 
 
 But she in her divinity of charms, 
 Won from the skies an angel to her arms ; 
 Barthus, the fair, seraphic, pure, and bright. 
 An usher at the eternal gates of light. 
 Bearing one of the twelve enchanted keys, 
 That ope the pearly gates of Paradise, 
 At word of High Commandment leading faithful souls 
 Into that glorious place where Life's clear river rolls. 
 
 And ever when the sun sank down to rest. 
 And cool the red heart throbbing in his breast. 
 Afar where the west wind is never laid, 
 (Celesta's angel lover swiftly sped. 
 On flaming wings down the deep saifron sky. 
 To that joy-crowned, best island of the sea, 
 By leave Divine to w^oo by starlight's early glow, 
 This strange, sweet nymph, for Heaven had willed it so. 
 
 There stood a quaint white castle by the sea, 
 Ancient and lone, propping the bending sky, 
 On..that green isle, and lo ! I 've heard it said. 
 That with fond wings low drooping o'er her head, 
 Reclining on the wall of highest tow'r, 
 Through all the mellow twilight's dreamy hour, 
 
 He 'd hold her to his heart breathing Elysian love ; 
 
 Wooing her spotless soul for the bright world above I 
 
 But ever when deep darkness veiled the strand. 
 He spread his wings for Eden's morn-lit land ; 
 And by the ling'ring, wreathing train of light. 
 Far-seeing Celesta traced his rapid flight. 
 Until she heard low sounding from afar, 
 The faint, sweet ringing of a silver bar ; 
 
PLEASANT LEGENDS. 11 
 
 Ami saw a great white gate yield to his passing form, 
 Then silent shut upon its clear gold hinges turn. 
 
 But once when the great sun like a grim god. 
 Supine tossed on the Western ocean broad, 
 In wrath splashing his gleaming fire afar, 
 Till the divine denieanor'd evening star 
 Like a strangely sweet half pla3d'ul nymph in love. 
 Smiling shook out her wild gold hair above 
 The yellow hills, down from the bended heavens came 
 The sweet-eyed Barthus riding on a wreathing flame ! 
 
 Sandals of gold were braided to his feet, 
 And swan-white raiment, lustrous, pure, and sweet. 
 Fell gracefully from his shoulders white and round. 
 And flowed in folds of light toward the ground. 
 Crowned were his clust'ring locks that wanton rolled 
 About his neck like coils of melted gold ; 
 But all unheeded was the beauty of his form. 
 When his impassion'd harp gave forth its magic charm. 
 
 Down by the wide gates of the purple sea 
 W^ith her he sat alone, where wild and free 
 The spicy evening gales sped laughing by ; 
 And the wild stars were kindling in the sky. 
 When o'er the flaming chords he threw^ his hand, 
 And woke a deep song of the Better Land, 
 Where sorrow, pain, and death are feared and felt no more, 
 And joy ecstatic drowns thoughts of the pains of yore. 
 
 And of a Holy City with bright walls he sung. 
 Sitting in light the amber clouds among. 
 With gates of pearl, and glass-clear golden streets, 
 And breezy bowers flUed with flow'ry sweets. 
 
12 PLEASANT LEGENDS. 
 
 That never fading cluster on the margins of 
 The pure, bright river-tide of Life and Love, 
 
 That flows where neither sun nor moon have need to shine. 
 
 But all walk in the glory of the Lamb Divine. 
 
 And of a country glorious, green and fair. 
 And breathed upon by pure, Elysian air. 
 Where angels walk in love by peaceful streams, 
 That softly purl like sounds in Summer dreams ; 
 And wild aerial music floats along, 
 Each living slope blent with tlie seraph's song ; 
 Where guileless souls commune with angels sweet and fair. 
 Wearing bright crowns of gold in joy and gladness there. 
 
 With far-oft', dreamy notes the deep lay closed. 
 And loved Celesta's cheek softly reposed 
 Upon his heart as if she dreaming lay. 
 Dreaming deep dreams of beauty far away 1 
 But soon her lips grew pale — oh, it was death ! 
 Without a sigh she breathed her parting breath : 
 
 Her soft blue eyes were closed to sleep forever more ; 
 
 And her freed soul prepared to greet the shining shore ! 
 
 And two immortal bodies, heavenly fair, 
 On glittering wings rose singing in the air : 
 He clasp'd her in his arms with sinless pride. 
 And joyfully bore oft" his radiant bride, 
 To that sweet land which oft he'd told her of, 
 Where all is joy, and harmony, and love : 
 
 Where Life's bright river laves her shores of burnished gold. 
 
 And souls remember not the miseries of old ! 
 
 A many a sun has rose and set in gold 
 On that sweet island of the ocean old. 
 
PLEASANT LEGENDS. 13 
 
 Since there in love sainted Celesta strayed, 
 Where now her earthly frame lies all decayed, 
 But where an ancient clifl''s dark shadows fall, 
 A marble spire stands weird, and white, and tall, 
 Unto this day, deep carved with legendary lore, 
 That her strange life might be forgotten never more. 
 
 THE LEGEND OF ALVIK AND MYRA. 
 
 Come, Heavenly Muse, delightful wanderer, come. 
 Through unknown realms no longer silent roam. 
 But while the soulful Even pensive reigns 
 O'er seas, and hills, and vales, and verdant plains. 
 Tune thy wild lyre to notes so soft and deep, 
 That youths will sigh and lovelorn maidens weep 
 At each sad closing strain. It was when first 
 The soul of Right oppressed began to thirst 
 For tyrants' blood in her own garden land, 
 (While Freedom blessed goddess whet the brand ! ) 
 That Alvin brave and Myra gay in youth, 
 Sought the Elysium of Love and Truth. 
 
 Over the amber-girdled hills of Morn 
 With joyous smile, came forth the day, new-born, 
 Proud plumed with gold, when Alvin bid adieu 
 To her to whom his heart was ever true. 
 And with the love-tear twinkling in his eye. 
 Went forth for her and home to do or die 
 
 The cool, dim world was still ; tlie wild winds bound 
 Within their rocky cells ; the velvet ground 
 
14 PLEASANT LKGENl)c<. 
 
 Was sparkling with the cold, bright tears of night. 
 
 When Myra, in the setting moon's pfele light. 
 
 By the dark river stood, 'neath spangled skies 
 
 Alone, with broken heart and streaming eyes. 
 
 Complaining thus to the weird silence there. 
 
 And the wild spirit of the midnight air ; 
 
 "Alas, he cometh not, he cometh not, how sad ! 
 
 Surely my Alvin slumbers with the dead ! 
 
 Have I not watching seen the day die out 
 
 In the red West, where now the moon doth float 
 
 A-low, and yet he cometh not ! Ah me, 
 
 I would that I were in Eternity ! 
 
 Give way, ye golden gates ! I come, I come 
 
 To dwell with him where parting is unknown !'" 
 
 So saying from her belt a blade she drew 
 
 Of silver wrought, and pierced her poor heart through 
 
 And while her curdling blood ran fast and red. 
 
 Her soft blue eyes she closed among the dead ; 
 
 And Alvin speeding down the river home. 
 
 Heard from the shore his Myra's dying groan, 
 
 And thither ran his boat, and found distressed. 
 
 The heart-blood oozing from his dear one's breast. 
 
 He knew it all, the sad, sad story of her fate. 
 
 And as he wept he said, "Too late, too late ! " 
 
 A moment by her side he trembling stood, 
 Then gently raised her from her couch of blood. 
 And frantic laid her in his boat's deep prow, 
 And pushed a-wave with pale and swollen brow, 
 And with the seathing tide glid dolefully on, 
 Like a dim spectre in the night ! 
 
PLEASANT LEGENDS. 15 
 
 The moon 
 Was down, and nought but wild stars in the skv. 
 ^.Lighting the way of his love's soul on high ! ) 
 When grief-worn Alvin bore the dead a-shore, 
 And sank with grief down at his cottage door. 
 He clasped his hands in deep distress, his eyes 
 Half vacant fixed on the far midnight skies — 
 One moment still — then burst his woe a-wild, 
 And thus his soul from hope and peace exiled 
 Bleeding complained : "O Myra, Myra, dear ! 
 .Joy of my youth, hope of each early 3"ear, 
 Heartbroken thou hast sulferVi death for me. 
 And I in fond return will die for thee !" 
 So saying from her bosom fair he drew 
 The knife all dripping with her blood so true, 
 And plunged it through his own sad heart and cried. 
 ''O Death ! thy waves no longer shall divide 
 Our fond twin souls ! On a celestial shore 
 We're meeting, Myra dear, to part no more ; 
 Welcome thy groom, my angel bride !" Thus said. 
 He lay upon her breast silent and dead, 
 Mingling his blood with hers! 
 
 When the blest Day 
 Led tbrth by incense-breatbing Morn so gay, 
 Bright in her zonoless saffron mantle clad, 
 Made vales, and plains, and steepy mountains glad. 
 Sad hearts mourned o'er them there, and when 
 The tender Moon looked down from Heaven again, 
 She bowed her head upon her cold, white throne. 
 And wept above their graves so still and lone ; 
 And even yet her tears are known to flow. 
 At this sad legend of a hundred years ago ! 
 
16 PLEASANT LEGENDS. 
 
 UNDER THE LINDE3S" TREES. 
 
 A MAY LEGEND. 
 
 These beautiful days so long and bright, 
 So full of music and fond delight, 
 Recall to the youthful poet's mind, 
 A story his heart has long enshrined. 
 A parent kind in the years of yore, 
 Delighted in telling it o'er and o'er; 
 It happen'd beyond the Eastern seas, 
 Under the shadow of linden trees. 
 
 She dwelt in England's proudest halls 
 Where the light of genius lit the walls ; 
 Where harp, and lute, in the pillar'd shade, 
 Rang to the praise of this high-born maid ; 
 For fair she was as the angels are. 
 And minstrels called her the "Castle Star," 
 And many an earl, and duke, and knight, 
 Sought her hand and heart in wild delight. 
 But ever her lute in dreamy lay. 
 Sang of a loved one far away ; 
 And the shoreward gaze of her sweet dark eyes. 
 Seemed to say her heart was over the seas ! 
 Even so it was — and she did yearn 
 Alone for her warrior's glad return ; ' 
 
 For she on that day was to wedded be 
 Under the boughs of the linden tree. 
 
 How strong is the love of a human soul. 
 When the ripples of song through the spirit roll, 
 
PLEASANT LEGENDS. 17 
 
 And poesy tinges our visions with gold, 
 And fills the young heart with joy untold ! 
 80 'twas with her — -from her childhood years 
 She had heen a heing of sudden tears, 
 Of sudden smiles, and passionate dreams ; 
 Quick light and shade — celestial gleams ! 
 Her heart was a lyre of ethereal sound, 
 Just waiting the touch of the breeze unbound ! 
 And oft had she stilled the wild, proud dance, 
 And fixed bright eyes in a wonder-trance. 
 While her fervent lute in its melting flame. 
 Won her beautiful brow the laurels of fame. 
 Such was this high-born English maid, 
 She of the souls' quick light and sliade. 
 
 But the sword is sheathed o'er the conquered Dane; 
 Victorious galleys plough the main; 
 And their oar-sjiray bathes the English shore, 
 For the true and brave are home once more ! 
 And cymbal, and clarion, harp, and voice. 
 In one mingled stream of sound rejoice, 
 While England's beautiful daughters smile. 
 To welcome the brave to their native isle ; 
 And fairest and brightest of all this day. 
 Clad in her snow-white bridal array, 
 (^omes she of the soul's quick light and shade, 
 Among ten thousand the fairest maid! 
 With the lute he loved in bright days gone, 
 To welcome her gallant bridegroom home: 
 And her voice grows proud when the thrill (^f fame 
 Gives a double sweetness to his name ! 
 She comes with her woman's faith strong and bright. 
 
18 PLEASANT LEGENDS. 
 
 And a bosom filled witli hope and light ; 
 And her heart melts as the soft May breeze 
 Rustles the leaves of tlie linden trees ! 
 
 But the boat of her lover has touched the shore, 
 And all with her forever is o'er ! 
 Whom leads he forth with a step of pride ? 
 Lo ! his eyes turn fond on a foreign bride ! 
 And the poor forsaken, so true and sweet, 
 Trembling fell dead at her rival's feet. 
 And her dying moan on the warm May breeze 
 Went sadly up through the linden trees ! 
 
 THE BRIDE OF THE SIERRAS. 
 
 Have you heard the mournful story 
 
 Of the bride of the Sierras, 
 In the vale of Aganotha, 
 
 That to me forever dear is ? 
 'T was in Autumn's time of yellow. 
 When the days are long and mellow, 
 
 That I met my Indian love. 
 
 Where the hemlocks bent above, 
 On a slope of the Sierras, 
 That to me forever dear is. 
 
 Lovely maiden was my Alvah, 
 
 Fairest on the pine-crowned mountains. 
 And her voice was like the murmur, 
 
 Of a hundred pleasant fountains. 
 
PLEASANT LEGENDS. 19 
 
 As I led her down the hillside, 
 Gently to the valley rillside, 
 
 Where her father's wigwam stood, 
 
 In the shadow of a wood, 
 Near a lake of the Sierras, 
 That to me forever dear is. 
 
 When reposing near the eljieftain. 
 
 By the rill of limpid water, 
 There I told him all the story. 
 
 How I'd loved his heauteous daughter. 
 All the long and lovel}' Summer, 
 All the blissful, passionate Summer! 
 
 And I now implored her hand 
 
 Till we'd join the spirit-band. 
 Far beyond the reach of sorrow. 
 In the land of the To-morrow. 
 
 He a moment looked about him ; 
 
 Threw an arrow in the water ; 
 Then he said no roving paleface 
 
 E'er should wed his lovely daughter. 
 Then sweet Alvah sank down weeping, 
 With her hair her hot tears seaping, 
 
 And I too looked forth with tears, 
 
 To the future's lonely 3'ears, 
 And I loathed this land of sorn^w. 
 Longing for the bright To-morrow. 
 
 Then the chieftain's lovely daughter 
 Rose and stately sto(Kl before him ; 
 
 And I saw as he looked at her 
 
 That a gloom was spreading o'er him ; 
 
20 PLEASANT liBftENDS. 
 
 But he yet withheld the arrow 
 To throw hack in sign of sorrow. 
 Then she drew a flaming knife, 
 Saying, "I am sick of life, 
 If I may not wed my lover 
 I'm the bride of the Forever !" 
 
 But he caught the thirsty weapon 
 
 Ere it reached her throbbing bosom, 
 And I saw that he was troubled 
 For his lovely forest blossom ; 
 And he quickly drew an arrow 
 Cast it back in sign of sorrow : 
 Then he said, "My fair child, tell. 
 If thou knowest not too well, 
 Thou art promised to Wakana, 
 To the eagle-eyed Wakana ? 
 
 He is fleetest on the mountains: 
 His canoe jiies on the water ; 
 He is fearless in the battle : 
 
 Wed Wakana, my daughter ! 
 But she cried, "Give me my lover. 
 Or I wed the strange Forever!" 
 And she shuddered in her pain, 
 And her tears ran down like rain. 
 For she loved not young Wakana, 
 E'en the eagle-eyed Wakana. 
 
 Then her father looked about him. 
 
 For his heart was smit with sorrow, 
 And he answered, "If it must be 
 
PLEASANT LEGENDS. 21 
 
 Ye shall wedded be to-morrow!" 
 
 Then her heart began to lighten, 
 
 And her lovely face to brighten, 
 And she kissed her father's cheek, 
 With sweet lips too glad to speak ; 
 
 And her dark eyes turned to Heaven 
 
 For the peace within her given. 
 
 In the vale of Aganotha 
 
 Soon the lone night spread the shadow ; 
 And the moonbeams pale lay rocking 
 
 On the long grass of the meado\^^ 
 But all night I heard a moaning, 
 A low, sad, and solemn moaning, 
 
 Like the wail of troubled love. 
 
 Seeming in the air above. 
 And I said, "It is a token 
 That a heart will yet be broken !" 
 
 O'er the east hills rose the Morning 
 
 On her wings so pure and golden. 
 And the world teemed witli the rapture 
 
 Of the passion sweet and olden ; 
 For the wild birds all were singing, 
 And the hills and valleys ringing. 
 
 When I led my Indian bride 
 
 Downward to the green lakeside. 
 Where the water's gladsome quiver 
 Seemed to say, "Ye're one forever." 
 
 In the shadow of an oak tree, 
 On the shore of the clear lakelet, 
 
22 PLEASANT LEGENDS. 
 
 Did they place us, and laid gently 
 On our brows the beaded circlet. 
 We exchanged our strings of waiupuni. 
 Strings of highly polished wampum : 
 And they loosed the bridal dove, 
 To bear tidings far above, 
 To the loved beyond the river, 
 On the shores of the Forever ! 
 
 When we rose and stood together 
 
 To receive the heart-felt blessing, . 
 From the near, the dear, and tender. 
 
 But we heard an arrow passing! 
 Passing near us, very near us, 
 And a moment more my dearest. 
 Sank to earth with all her love. 
 And her spirit with the dove. 
 Crossed the cold, white, silent river 
 To the land of the Forever ! 
 
 And at falling of the even, 
 
 In that valley lone, yet lovely. 
 When a storm was on the mountains, 
 
 And the clouds were dark above me. 
 And the heavy-liearted thunder 
 Smote the mighty clouds asunder, 
 I my lovely Alvab laid 
 In the low land of the dead ! 
 And my tears ran like a river 
 For the bride of the Forever ! 
 
 And I cursed the dark Wakana, 
 The revengeful wretch Wakana, 
 
PLEASANT LEGENDS. 23 
 
 Though his corpse lay cold and bloody 
 
 On the sands of lake Chawana ! 
 And a willow green I planted 
 By the long grave of the sainted, 
 
 That it ne'er might be denied 
 
 Where I laid my Indian bride, 
 In that vale of the Sierras, 
 That to me forever dear is. 
 
 And thougli now I own another 
 
 To my bos(^m very dear is, 
 I shall ne'er forget that loved one 
 
 Sleeping in the far Sierras ! 
 As I speak a rapture thrills me, 
 And a guardian spirit tells me, 
 
 When a few more days are past, 
 
 I shall meet her mid the Blest, 
 Far beyond the mystic river. 
 In the bright and sweet Forever ! 
 
 ALVAR AND OR A. 
 
 A SCOTTISH IDYL. 
 
 Beyond the crown of dark, grim Ben Na Oarr 
 The weary sun had just sunk down to rest, 
 
 And cool within the west wind's gates afar 
 The red heart throbbing madly in his breast. 
 
 The evening star, clad in her yellow vest. 
 
 Smiled as he fondly twined her long light liair, 
 
 And being by his lips of amber kiss'd 
 
24 PLEASANT LEGENDS. 
 
 ?50uglit her gold throne and reign'd in beauty there, 
 When side by side Alvar and Ora strayed, 
 A brave and noble youth, a fair and blooming maid. 
 
 Alvar — ^death had no terrors feared by him ! 
 
 A hero's heart was his from earliest youth ; 
 His form was tall, of round and sinewy limb, 
 
 His dauntless eyes were dark and full of truth. 
 (3ra might have been called the queen of Earth, 
 
 80 fair she was, so angel-like and sweet : 
 Thoughtful her eye, yet cui-led her lip with mirth. 
 
 And liglit as air tlie falling of her feet: 
 Her cheeks were rosy as a summer dawn ; 
 Her brow was like the snow, her bosom like the swan. 
 
 Along the dewy steep they bent their way. 
 
 Where merl and mavis poured their mellow lays, 
 (Tazing upon the lake which 'neath them lay. 
 
 So still, dim glimmering through the twilight haze. 
 They talked of love and truth's unchanging ways ; 
 
 Of virtue born to live when time is done : 
 Then stayed their steps upon a breezy raise. 
 
 Far out upon the hillside all alone, 
 And there while cooed yet one sweet wakeful dove. 
 They sank in other's arms and pledged their hearts in love. 
 
 'T was springtime — all the vale was fresh and green 
 As Eden's bosom when first seen by man ; 
 
 The hills looked proud, with deep, dark glens between, 
 Down whose green straths a many a fountain ran. 
 
 Just where a long and fertile slope begins 
 Old Pibor's ivy-girdled turrets rose ; 
 
 There dwelt the chief of the Glenronald clan, 
 
PLEASANT LEGENDS. : 
 
 Fierce as the storm that from the North pole hlows! 
 'Twas Alvar's home — he with liis father dwelt, 
 And like him wore with pride the sahle plume and belt. 
 
 The grooving sound of revelry rolled through, 
 
 Like a wild storm those ancient vaulted halls ; 
 Music pealed loud and quick, and swift feet Hew 
 
 Till lance and spear thrilled on the bannerM walls. 
 Sweet eyes looked tenderly on eyes that gave 
 
 Back tokens of response in flashes bright ; 
 For there were gather'd all the fair and brave 
 
 That loyal were to Pibor's noble knight — 
 All, all weiv there except the gallant groom. 
 His face had not been seen after the hour of noon. 
 
 Tlie sun was well nigh down. The bride looked sad. 
 
 -Vnd tears began to pearl her sw^eet blue eyes ; 
 From guest to guest the new-caught panic spread. 
 
 And music glad gave place to mournful cries. 
 "Fly, fly o'er all Glengloamin's hazelly leas, 
 
 The lord of Pibor cried at set of sun, 
 Surely some sad mishap hath sealed his eyes, 
 
 Or long ere this my Alvar would have come !" 
 They flew — they eager searched till end of light. 
 But x\lvar young and brave was still a missing knight. 
 
 So it was dark, and slumber'd all the flocks ; 
 
 And then began the moon so wild and sweet, 
 'J'o braid by clear Loch-leal her silver locks, 
 
 And in the water bathe her swany feet. 
 Thither they went to search by her soft light. 
 
 And there the youthful Avarrior bleedina; lav 
 Upon the cold, red sand, a piteous sight. 
 
26 ■ PLEASANT LEGENDS. 
 
 His wounded bosom batlied with cliilly spray. 
 Slow waB his pulse, the death-dew dampt his face. 
 And he Avas sinking fast into the tomb's embrace! 
 
 Cold by his side a lowland Douglas slept, 
 
 Slept where he groaning fell and dying bled ; 
 His mighty axe though by the white waves la]»ped. 
 
 Still with a Imndred heroes' blood was red ! 
 (irently they bore the wounded Alvar home, 
 
 And gave him to his wildly weeping bride ; 
 While his stern tather through the hazels' gloom. 
 
 Dragged the great Douglas after liini with pride; 
 And at his castle door arrived he tore 
 The vestment off the huge breast black with curdled gore. 
 
 And o})en\l the red pit of life, and took 
 
 The bruised heart from its lurking place, 
 And with a savage hand and demon's look 
 
 C'ast it unto his lank hounds of the chase! 
 Then dipped his finger in the rich red blood 
 
 That gathered in the hollow of the breast, 
 And ran and wrote with eyes flaming and proud, 
 
 His sf)n's n;ime o'er his downy couch of rest! 
 And when returned, fierce fiames began to flash, 
 And feed the winds the stench of burning human flesh ! 
 
 Slowly the weary Summer rolled along; 
 
 As slowly Alvar's strengtli returned to him : 
 But when sere Autumn wailed the hills among. 
 
 He was restored fully in every limb; 
 And with his brother Selma on the hills 
 
 Slaughter 'd the speckled grouse and spotted roe ; 
 
PLEASANT LE(iEM)S. 
 
 And later through the long, dark highlaud vale?* 
 
 Poured war's red flood on thousands down holow, 
 Revengeful for the blood which he had lost, 
 l\v tlie stern leader of the mightiest lowland liost. 
 
 But by and by the Spring returned again. 
 
 With sunn}' skies and blossoms for the i)ea ; 
 Softly the cuckoo poured her simple strain, 
 
 And fountains leaped along each highland lea. 
 And one sweet even, when the round full moon, 
 
 With merry smile danced in a Imndred rills, 
 Alvar and Ora in the mellow gloom, 
 
 Strayed out along the slope of dewy hills. 
 Till on a jutting clitf they sat them down, 
 Tiider the holy heavens' Are liestudded crown. 
 
 He showed her to the vale where Loch-leal lies. 
 
 Far down, faint glimmering through the sable gloom : 
 Then pointed her up to the starry skies. 
 
 Where happy aye the blest ones have their home. 
 Her silken curls lay tawny on his breast ; 
 
 Her eyes upturned to his with melting ray ; 
 When lo ! by some dark hidden hand being cast, 
 
 A well directed arrow sped its way, 
 And from her neck his fond arms fell apart, 
 Tlie shaft was in liis brain, the <leath-])ain at his ln'art I 
 
 Thus died the noble Alvar, true and brave. 
 And long in Pibor's halls a shadow dim. 
 
 Like desolation's shade, drear as the grave. 
 
 Dwelt dire, for deeply each heart mourned for liim : 
 
 And every morn his lon^- o-rave bv the wold 
 
28 PLEASANT LEGENDS. 
 
 Was sweet with ilow'rs of every breath and liue. 
 Ah ! love worthy the name never grows cold, 
 Nor recollection dim when hearts are true. 
 Sweet is the gleam of Memory's gentle wave, 
 And holy is the love that doth survive the grave ! 
 
 Time traveled by. Another spring had spread 
 
 Over green Albin's hills her airy reign ; 
 All the sweet meads, and woods, gay birds made glad. 
 
 And every ilow'r had donned the bloom again. 
 And now Selma by gentle Ora's side 
 
 Began to stray with words of tender tone ; 
 And often while a-west the white day died, 
 
 He linger'd by his brother's grave so lone, 
 And spoke to her of that fast-coming day, 
 ^^^^en they should strike glad hands in mansions faraway. 
 
 And oft he cursed the dark, sin-blacken 'd fiend, 
 
 Tliat wrought the hellish deed, and lirmly swore, 
 If e'er the perpetrator's name should come to hand. 
 
 The brown eartli like a wolf should drink his gore! 
 And ever when the tear bedim'd her eyes. 
 
 And woe coiled viper-like about her heart, 
 He show'd her with compassion to the skies. 
 
 Where all the faithful meet no more to part. 
 And said, "Why should you longer wee[), sweet dove?" 
 Thus wicked Selma won liis murder'd brother's love! 
 
 Again the harpers harp in Pibor's halls. 
 
 And wild, and mad, the slogan dance goes round. 
 
 Till spear, and lance, thrill on the ancient walls. 
 Whose strong foundations tremble in the ground : 
 
 All day it has been so, but now the hour. 
 
PLEASANT LEGENDS. 29 
 
 The proud, and calmer bridal hour has come, 
 And Ora, sweet Glengloamin'a lovely flow'r. 
 
 Is to be wed, and Selma is the groom! 
 Selma, Selma I 't were better far for thee 
 A millstone held thee down, e'en in the deep mid sea ! 
 
 The holy man of God before them stands, 
 
 Enrobed in his long sacradotal stole ; 
 But lo ! as they prepare to join their hands 
 
 The bells upon the tow'rs begin to toll ! 
 The tapers drop their tlames and dimly burn. 
 
 With weird white glare, and from the marble floor 
 A spirit rises with a look forlorn — 
 
 The very belt and plume that Alvar wore! 
 ( ) (lod ! the blood was on his smitten brow, 
 And through the arrow-gash his brains began to flow ! 
 
 On him all eyes alike were horror-bound. 
 
 As with a groan he raised his hands in air. 
 And cried with a deep voice of doleful sound : 
 
 '■'Selma, Selma ! thou art t ay murderer 1^'' 
 Then while a rumbling rent the vaulted halls. 
 
 And smote in twain the war-proof great hall door. 
 And lance and spear fell from the quaking walls. 
 
 And with dead Selma tossed upon the floor, 
 The spectre fled, and all was still again 
 As was the voiceless earth, before tlie birth of man. 
 
 L' pon the morrow, by the sun's red tire 
 They laid the wicked 8elma's bones to rest, 
 
 Upon a cliti:" of dark, stern Ben Na Garr, 
 
 Where the foul vulture builds her tilthy nest ! 
 
 There he the awful judgment day doth wait. 
 
30 PLEASANT LEGENDS. 
 
 His only brother's murderer, yea worse ! 
 Well he deserved a gentle mother's hate. 
 
 And merited a dying father's curse 1 
 Despised be his demon-haunted grave, 
 Where odious vultures croak, and serpents hiss and ravel 
 
 Now o'er these scenes a silence broods profound : 
 
 The ivy creeps o'er Pibor's ruined walls ; 
 She hears no more the clash of arms resound, 
 
 Nor dance, nor music cheers her crumbling halls. 
 And long the lamp of heaven has peacef 'ly shone 
 
 Upon the sjwt where gentle Ora lies, 
 (•lose by her Alvar, near the wold so lone — 
 
 We hope their souls do love in Taradise ! 
 Then let us strive, while in this world of care. 
 Through faith to meet them too in love and o-lorv there. 
 
 THE TURKI^^H rKIXCESS. 
 
 Within the walls of Varna grey 
 A captive pined his life away. 
 For all his thoughts was his sweet home, 
 Afar where Thames' blue waters foam. 
 
 Oft to his dismal, gloomy cell 
 A blooming Eastern lady came. 
 Amid the flash of diamonds' flame, 
 But of her visits none could tell 
 The import, till one blessed day 
 In a Sultana's grand array, 
 
PLEASANT LE(?ENDS. 31 
 
 Noh\y slie stoofl by that chained youtli, 
 While in her eyes so full of truth, 
 Trembled tlie iioly drops of ruth. 
 
 "Tell me this day, the ])rincess said, 
 O captive, thy true history: 
 Medreams that it must woeful be : 
 Tell me the truth, be not afraid !" 
 
 "0 lady fair, why ask me this ? 
 Canst thou restore my soul to peace ? 
 T am a motiier's only son ; 
 Disconsolate she dwells alone 
 By the far Thames' blue rollino; stream. 
 In a white cottage on the green, 
 W'^ith none on earth to care for her. 
 While he who used to soothe her care, 
 And fondly twine her long black hair, 
 Now far from her sheds the sad tear, 
 P>ound down in prison dark and drear! 
 
 "They bore me here from walled Belgrade, 
 VV^here I was a poor prisoner made, 
 When Turk and Christian met to bleed. 
 Each hero for his native creed. 
 And now you know, lady fair, 
 My history, and why I'm here 
 Pouring like rain the soul's dee|» tear," 
 
 She looked on him, her eye grew dim. 
 With gracious i>ity's holy dew. 
 And softly said, with drooping head 
 
32 PLEASANT T,EGENDS. 
 
 And burning cheeks of crimson hue, 
 The bloom of love, "O gentle youth. 
 For thee my heart is filled with ruth , 
 And I ere long will set thee free. 
 And risk my life for love and thee. 
 If I dare hope my heart in time 
 May find a sweet response in thine !" 
 
 iSTight threw her sable mantle o'er 
 The Black Sea's hollow-sounding shore ; 
 The night wind blew, the lightning fiash'd. 
 The thunder rolled, the waters dashed. 
 When to his cell the princess came. 
 In garb that knew no diamond's flame, 
 And with her own soft, tiny hands 
 Loosed from his limbs the heavy bands. 
 Saying, "dear youth, I come to prove 
 My words of pity and of love ! 
 And now my hands do set thee free ; 
 But I must fly for life with thee 
 Unto the far-otf Christian land, 
 Hoping thou 'It ever love me, and 
 Thy people may my people be 
 Henceforth to all eternity ; 
 Or, if escape cannot be made, 
 T '11 sink with thee among the dead 1" 
 
 He sprang out of the drear confine 
 Of clanking links with eager start, 
 Aud caught her to his grateful heart, 
 And said, "Sweet girl thou art divine /" 
 And kissed her o'er and o'er again. 
 The while his tears ran down like rain ! 
 
PLEASANT LEGENDS. 33 
 
 Tie said for many a pleasant year 
 They lived and loved, nor knew a tear, 
 They lived and loved where roses blow 
 By Thames' blue waters soft and slow, 
 The humble Knight of AValsinggrove, 
 And his high-born imperial love I 
 And now a costly monument 
 Of sculptur'd marble gleaming white 
 Beneath the wild, sweet Summer light. 
 Where royal flow'rs the breezes scent, 
 Stands high the resting place to prove 
 Of Rudolph and his Eastern love : 
 Close side by side in one grave deeji 
 They take their everlasting sleep. 
 
 DELZA'S LEAF 
 
 A POKM AFTER THK STYLE OK ULLA, OR THE ABJURATION, BY MRS. HRMA.VS. 
 
 Beyond Mt. Etna's burning crown. 
 
 That thousands so admire, 
 The king of day had just sunk down. 
 
 Upon his couch of fire. 
 
 Oh, come to me, do come to me I arise thee from thy sleep I 
 Oh, come, love, to rny arms from out the mournf'ly sonndini. 
 
 deep ! 
 I do not dread thy hollow eye, nor thy white houy br<nv I 
 Love has no fears: then rise, sweet love, come to my boson 
 
 now. 
 
34 PLEASANT LEGENDS. 
 
 I know thy bed is in the brine where sea-weeds iioat and coil. 
 
 Where mighty monsters in their strength make the deep 
 waters boil, 
 
 For I've out-watched the stars of night and seen thee not on 
 high, 
 
 I^or while I searched o'er all the earth have found thy smil- 
 ing eye. 
 
 'Twas Delza's voice in wailing mood 
 
 That o'er the waters broke, 
 As high above the sea she stood. 
 
 Poised on a tow'ring rock ! 
 
 Come to my arms, lanthis dear, 'tis thy own Delza calls. 
 The mournful shadow of the grave has spread through all 
 
 her halls. 
 And she has come to call thee forth, or sink to rest with thee. 
 And lie upon thy cold, white breast below the moaning sea ! 
 Oh, answer me, or rise thee up ; why let me idly shriek ? 
 I will not shudder if I see thy bloodless lip and cheek ! 
 mighty seal give up thy dead, tliou hast who once was 
 
 mine ; 
 Open your stormy gates, ye waves, and my lost love resign I 
 
 With wild bright eye she scanned the deep, 
 
 Red with the sunset'sglow, 
 But only saw the ripples leap, 
 
 And dance in light below ! 
 
 O lost lanthis, by the slow and torturous death 1 die ! 
 
 By all the tears I've shed for thee ! by bright days long gone byl 
 
 By hope that loath 'd to yield its place to pain and dark de- 
 
PLEASANT LEGENDS. 35 
 
 By every sigh I've breathed for thee, by every heart-felt prayer, 
 By every searching look I've cast among the stars of night, 
 iVnd every trial made on earth to find my heart's delight ! 
 And by the fearful, fatal leap thy loved one soon shall take, 
 Arise and speak that I may live, rise for compassion sake! 
 
 She paused — -and was it but a dream 
 
 Her yearning spirit had ? 
 Or did lanthis stand amain 
 
 With visage pale and sad ! 
 
 The heartless deep has heard ! and where the glassy waters 
 
 gleam 
 I see my own lanthus rise with eyes bloodshot and dim ! 
 Leave not thy grave, weary one, go back unto thy rest! 
 And to thy coral chamber I'll go down, e'en to thy breast, 
 And mid the long lost things of earth, and treasures rich and 
 
 rare, 
 The tide shall lave our pallid cheeks and braid our wavy hair, 
 And with the ocean's wave-tossed dead we'll make our silent 
 
 home. 
 Oh, sink back to thy dreamless rest, behold, beloved, I come ! 
 
 A white robe iiaunting in the breeze, 
 
 A plunge with hollow boom, 
 And Sicily's fairest daughter lies 
 
 Low in a watery tomb ! 
 
B<5 PLEASANT LE(4ENDS. 
 
 GERTRUDE YON WEIBER'S DEATH. 
 
 When the red gold of eventime burned on the distant hills, 
 And lonely winds sighed mournfully where the blue Rhine 
 
 moaning swells, 
 Fair Gertrude stood with eyes upcast toward the grim grey 
 
 tow'r, 
 Grod only knows the pain she bore in that dark, dreadful hour 1 
 Her hands were clasped upon her heart, her tongue was 
 
 s])eechless bound 
 Tntil she heard the falling blade of the guillotine resound. 
 
 And then lier marble lips found words, and she began to weej): 
 
 ''Henri ! Henri ! I cannot live, my love is far too deep 1 
 
 But not more so than thine, dear one, for thou hast died for me, 
 
 Hast made a mighty sacrifice, that I will make for thee : 
 
 r know tliere is a world on high where love knows no restraint, 
 
 Where loom no hoary prison walls, and rapture fears no taint. 
 
 There will I follow thy dear soul, that spirit spotless white. 
 And reign with thee in thy new home in everlasting light ; 
 For I have made my peace with Heaven, I feel it in my heart : 
 The tomb 's become a gate of gold, I'm ready to depart ! 
 Farewell, deluding world below, now all my pangs are ])ast : 
 Farewell, ye cruel, envious hearts, Henri is mine at last ! 
 
 Once more her sad, dark eyes she turned toward the fatal 
 
 tow'r ; 
 Her red-flushed cheeks gave back their blood, her tongue 
 
 losed all its pow'r. 
 And with a pale hand she unsheathed a dagger's thirsty blade. 
 
PLEASANT LEGENDS. 37 
 
 And thrust it through her faithful heart, and sank among 
 
 tlie dead ! 
 And when the swan- white-mantled moon came forth to bless 
 
 the night. 
 Fair Gertrude's soul we all believe reigned in immortal light. 
 
 They found her body on the morn, stain'd with her poor 
 
 heart's gore. 
 And then a cruel father mourned a daughter his no more I 
 And with repentant tears he laid her down by Henri's side, 
 Crying, "Alas ! my broken heart shall ever rue its pride ! 
 Forgive me, spirits of the dead, (may Grod forgive me too !) 
 The cruel deed that laid ye low this heart shall ever rue ! 
 
 And then a costly monument he o'er their bosoms placed, 
 Two kneeling cherubim are there, with hands devoutly 
 
 clasped : 
 With crosses framed about their necks 'mid ivy leaves and 
 
 blooms, 
 Tliey spread a holy halo 'round the fated lovers' tombs. 
 And at their feet bold letters tell a tale of love and death, 
 Of envy, and revenge, and pride, and hope, and truth, and 
 
 faith. 
 
 Oh ! lovely in this world of sin are truth and faith divine ; 
 For sucli as own these sacred boons bright crowns of glory 
 
 shine ; 
 Only the faithful and the true compose the favor'd good. 
 Who gain the great high Master's grace, and share his blest 
 
 al)ode. 
 Then let no envy nor falsehood e'er rouse an unjust wrath, 
 Or taint the truth of those who read Gertrude Von Weiber's 
 
 death. 
 
38 PLEASANT LEGENDS. 
 
 THE TOMB OF THE CHEVALIER. 
 
 Far away on the bank of a slow rolling river, 
 Where the myrtle and orange luxuriant bloom. 
 
 The last flaming dart from the sun's golden quiver 
 
 Gleams red through the vines on the Chevalier's tomb. 
 
 There all the day long the wild sparrow keeps singing. 
 And the ortolan moans to the red setting sun ; 
 
 And there when the jewels of heaven are shining. 
 To sigh through the tall reeds the lonely winds come. 
 
 There we laid him to rest on tlie lield of proud honor. 
 Enwrapped in the flag of the country he loved ; 
 
 And our hearts rose aloft to the blessed rest donor. 
 Who unto Himself had our comrade removed. 
 
 There sadly in life's sunny morning we laid him, 
 Ere the radiant hopes of his boyhood had fled ; 
 
 And the portraiture fair of a sunny-eyed maiden, 
 With gold was enchained to the breast of the dead ! 
 
 They had met and learned love in the far-away bowers 
 Of the vale of their homes — by the blue Delaware, 
 
 There oft he had crowm'd her with wild woven flowers. 
 And set the wild rose in her raven-black hair. 
 
 But war's loud alarm through our country was sounded. 
 And heroes were martialed for glory or death ; 
 
 The lovers were parted and sorrow resounded, 
 As the chevalier rode to his tomb in the South. 
 
PLEASANT LEGENDS. 39 
 
 Oh ! sweet be his rest where the orange trees blossom. 
 For he taketh his sleep with the glorious brave, 
 
 With the gift of his loved one still chained to his bosom. 
 Enwrapped in the flag that he died for to save ! 
 
 THE FOREST SISTERS. 
 
 Where a Western mountain slopes, 
 
 T'ward the silver moon's white halls. 
 And the wailing lienilock's murmur. 
 
 And a cooling fountain falls ; 
 There two lovel}^ forest maidens. 
 
 Sleep in death forever more, 
 While their swan-Avliite souls are reigning 
 
 Over on the hidden shore. 
 One was named the Gentle Moonlight, 
 
 One Brown Thrush, for her song 
 N'e'er was hushed, but in st)ft echoes 
 
 Ever purled the hills among. 
 
 Both M^ere fair, and both were happy, 
 
 Dwelling in one wild-wood home. 
 Till the brave White Eagle came. 
 
 Mid the mountains wild to roam. 
 He was tall and beautiful, 
 
 And his voice was kind and low, 
 Like the sound of falling waters. 
 
 In the pleasant vale below ; 
 When he met the forest sisters, 
 
 Met them in their happy home. 
 
40 PLEASANT LEGENDS, 
 
 And he tarried at their wigwam 
 For the space of one sweet moon ; 
 
 Then he wedded Gentle Moonlight, 
 
 And the Brown Thrush bowed her head, 
 
 And she sang a deep, wild song, 
 And the song was of the dead ! 
 
 For the two did madly love him, 
 
 And when twilight made it grey, 
 From the place of mirtliful dancing, 
 
 Lovely Brown Thrush stole away, 
 And when hidden by the pine trees, 
 
 Sang her last sweet song and cried ; 
 Threw herself from off a grey rock. 
 
 And in all her beauty died ! 
 And when Grentle Moonlight found 
 
 The Brown Thrush no longer there, 
 She was filled with sad foreboding, 
 
 For her sister kind and fair. 
 And she too stole from the bridal, 
 
 With a sad and troubled face, 
 And in searching found the songstress 
 
 Bleeding there in death's embrace ! 
 And she wef)t in bitter wildness, 
 
 And she said "It is but meet. 
 That I follow gentle Brown Thrush, 
 
 To the Spirit-land so sweet." 
 And they laid them on the morrow 
 
 Side by side in one deep grave, 
 Brown Thrush and the Gentle Moonlight, 
 
 Where the wailino- hemlocks wave ! 
 
PLEASANT LEGENDS. 41 
 
 l)OU(iLAS AND HIS CHILI). 
 
 [The following monniful story dates tar back to the dark chivahie 
 days when the Scots and English were ever at war ; when the re- 
 nowned Percys of England, after many yeai-s of continnal bloodshed, 
 finally concpiered the warlike Douglases of Scotland.] 
 
 It was beneath a hawthorn's shade 
 
 They stood at set of sun, 
 The migiity Douglas and his child, 
 
 A beauteous dark-eyed one. 
 Her cheeks were like the moorland rose. 
 
 Her neck white as the swan, 
 Her eyes were like that glorious star 
 
 That leads the radiant dawn. 
 
 Said he, "I had a dream last night, 
 
 A mournful dream of death ! 
 I saw wild ilow'rs wave on my grave 
 
 Before the heather breath ! 
 And I was told that ere the sun 
 
 Again shall leave this strand, 
 I surely shall be lain at rest. 
 
 Slain by a Percy's hand ! 
 
 Then who will care for thee, dear girl. 
 
 So kind, so sweet, and fair; 
 Yea, who will shield thee from vile taunts, 
 
 Outrage, and sad despair ? 
 And who will twine thy raven locks. 
 
 And kiss thy cheek and brow, 
 And crown thee Avith sweet heather bells. 
 
 My child as I do now ? 
 
42 PLEASANT LEGENDS. 
 
 His eyes began to burn a-wild, 
 
 His voice grew hoarse and deep ; 
 He bade her kneel ujDon the sod, 
 
 The green sod at his feet ; 
 Then stooping down he pressed upon 
 
 Her lips a long, long kiss, 
 And said, "They shall not harm my child, 
 
 Her refuge lies in this !" 
 
 So saying, fi^om his broad steel belt 
 
 He drew a glittering blade, 
 And while the tears ran down like rain 
 
 He smote her on the head ! 
 She fell to earth upon her face. 
 
 And while her blood gushed red. 
 She meekly closed her sweet dark eyes 
 
 Among the silent dead I 
 
 And ere the morrow's sun with gold 
 
 Had tinged the western tide. 
 The father slain by Percy's hand, 
 
 Lay sleeping by her side. 
 And where the merl and mavis sing 
 
 Amid the heather wild, 
 To-day they show the peaceful tombs 
 
 Of Doufflas and his child. 
 
PLEASANT LEGENDS. 
 
 C0NTEI!^TS. 
 
 SUBJECT. PAGE. 
 
 Celesta, 9 
 
 The Legend of Alvin and Myra, .... 13 
 
 Under the Linden Trees, 16 
 
 The Bride of the Sierras, 18 
 
 Alvar and Or a, 23 
 
 The Turkish Princess, 30 
 
 Delza's Leap, 38 
 
 GrERTRUDE YoN WbIBER's DeATH, 36 
 
 The Tomb op the Chevalier, 88 
 
 The Forest Sisters, 39 
 
 Douglas and His Child, 41 
 

 'mmmmwwm^ 
 
 . .-^^ 
 
/ 
 
THOUGHTFUL HOURS. 
 
 THE TOMB m THE CLIFF. 
 
 High in an over-jutting clitf, 
 
 Down by the ocean's stormy gates, 
 
 My gentle love in dreamless sleep, 
 For Christ's last coming waits. 
 
 Beyond her, braided with white foam, 
 The salt-white sand beds steam and dry 
 
 And scudding mist on silver wings 
 Slants to the milky sky. 
 
 Above her on the drear-white crags, 
 His wings the bold sea-eagle flaps. 
 
 While far below with hollow boom. 
 Her sands the great sea laps. 
 
 Yea, here high o'er the foaming waves. 
 
 Deep in a silent, slaten hall, 
 A treasure lies enshrined within 
 
 The ocean's strong grey wall. 
 
 A treasure dearer far than all 
 The riches laved by Indian tides ; 
 
 Or all the wealth that glitters in 
 Potosi's rocky sides. 
 
48 THOUGHTFUL HOURS. 
 
 Here, love, according to thy wish, 
 I've hidden thee from human eyes : 
 
 Save me, no mortal knows on earth. 
 Where my sweet "darling lies ! 
 
 Lo ! here when clouds prepare to part, 
 I watch the rainbow on the sea ; 
 
 Its ancient sign of pearl and gold 
 Brings sweet remind to me. 
 
 It minds me that the promises 
 By Heaven made can never die, 
 
 That though they parted be on earth, 
 The good shall meet on high. 
 
 And, strong in heart by thee I stand, 
 
 And though my eyes are dim with brine. 
 
 My soul finds nothing in this world 
 So sweet as my repine. 
 
 Here, from the blooming meads I bring. 
 The pansy and the lady-fern, 
 
 To whisper how forever more 
 For thee, lost love, I yearn. 
 
 And I have planted on thy breast 
 The samphire of the tidal brink. 
 
 To tell in silence how of thee 
 Forevermore I think. 
 
 Behind me rise the city spires. 
 
 And vessels puff their swan- white sails ; 
 
THOUGHTFUL HOURS. 49 
 
 And ponderous engines ply their strength, 
 And load with sound the gales. 
 
 I know the busy toils of men — 
 
 I hear the saw and sledge resound, 
 While softly down on yonder green. 
 
 The graceful dance goes round. 
 
 ? 
 ne. 
 
 But what, say, what is this to me 
 Oh ! give to me my blest repine. 
 
 To gaze on you, strong grey walls. 
 That hold my love within ! 
 
 Oh, come, sad tern, and mavis sweet. 
 And mournful dove, thou bird of faith. 
 
 And aid my spirit while she sings 
 The serenade of death : 
 
 Sleep, gentle love, the dreamless sleep 
 Of death so dreary, lone and long ; 
 
 And I will meet thee in the morn 
 To sing the glad "l^ew Song." 
 
 THE CASTLE BY THE SEA. 
 
 By the side of the deep blue ocean, 
 Where the dark waves dash and roar, 
 
 And their white manes toss in anger 
 As they lash the sounding shore. 
 
50 THOUGHTFUL HOURS. 
 
 A strong and ancient castle, 
 
 Well founded on a rock, 
 Lifts high its ivied turrets, 
 
 And laughs at the temspest's shock ! 
 
 But the sea is calming round it, 
 
 And tlie waves are gliding slow. 
 And their hollow voice is dying, 
 
 For the storm has ceased to blow. 
 Rich clouds of gold and crimson, 
 
 Are floating o'er the sky ; 
 And gorgeous forms are painted. 
 
 Where the peaceful waters lie. 
 
 Uost thou hear from those lofty chambers 
 
 That flow of minstrelsy — 
 Those melting numbers floating 
 
 Soft o'er the dreamy sea ? 
 Lo ! see'st thou on the towers 
 
 The Prince and his queenly bride — 
 The flame of their purple mantles, 
 
 And the flash of their crowns of pride ? 
 
 f 
 They stand in the blaze of the sunset, 
 
 And their faces are glad and bright. 
 And into each other's spirits 
 
 Their eyes are darting light. 
 The brows of the bride so dainty 
 
 Sweetest orange blossoms deck ; 
 And cinnamon wreaths are woven 
 
 About her swan-white neck. 
 
THOUGHTFUL HOURS. 51 
 
 I see the ricli gems flashing 
 
 Like sparks in her golden hair, 
 As she tosses in. wild rapture 
 
 Her curls on the sunset air ; 
 I see on her upraised finger 
 
 The flash of a diamond ring, 
 As she points to the clouds of crimson 
 
 Which over the ocean swing. 
 
 But the twilight shade is deep'ning, 
 
 And the turrets are hid from view, 
 And the stars of night are shining, 
 
 High up in the dreamy blue : 
 The night winds damp are playing 
 
 On the deep with a lulling sound, 
 And the silver moon is setting. 
 
 For the night is goino- round. 
 
 Now beautiful Morn is dancing 
 
 With Day in the East's bright halls. 
 And amber banners are floating 
 
 From Aurora's saffron walls ! 
 Morn's steps are light and airy, 
 
 To the notes so proud and bold. 
 And show'rs of light are raining 
 
 From the beautiful curls of gold. 
 
 The !Sun in his dazzling chariot 
 
 Is passing up through the sky, 
 And his praise the birds are singing 
 
 Where blossoming meadows lie. 
 As he passes o'er the castle, 
 
52 THOUGHTFUL HOURS. 
 
 The castle down by the sea, 
 
 He hears not the trip of dancing, 
 
 Nor the gush of minstrelsy. 
 
 The purple banners are weeping 
 
 Around the gay-decked wall ; 
 And he hears the wail of sorrow 
 
 In the beautiful bridal hall. 
 In the weird and solemn stillness 
 
 Of the night that's gone by now, 
 Lo ! the death-king left his coldness 
 
 On the royal bride's fair brow ! 
 
 And the Prince is left lamenting. 
 
 With despair in his brave young breast- 
 His love was smit in her beauty, 
 
 Like a rose by the midnight blast ! 
 She hath gone to that blissful kingdom 
 
 Prepared for the Good and True ; 
 Where the river of Life is flowing, 
 
 And the skies are ever blue. 
 
 THE BRIDE OF ULLENDINE. 
 
 Come gaze on the bride of Ullendine, 
 With the braids of her raven hair a-stream 
 With gilded sandals upon her feet. 
 That trip to the time of music sweet ; 
 While gems on her swelling bosom gleam, 
 
THOUGHTFUL HOURS. 53 
 
 To the flash of her brazen tambourine, 
 As she swings and reels in the mazy dance, 
 With a look of mirth in her happy glance. 
 
 The gaudy sun of Italia's land, 
 Has browned her cheek, and her dainty hand, 
 But her dark eyes flash with a heavenly light, 
 That maketh the aisles of the sad heart bright, 
 Till we stand like phantoms in a dream. 
 While our hearts keep time to her tambourine. 
 Oh, her corsage gay liow proud it rests. 
 With its pearls of light on her heaving breasts, 
 As they rise and fall to her fragrant breath. 
 That stirs the leaves of the orange wreath : 
 And her waist is tight, and her form is neat, 
 And our hearts keep time with her flying feet, 
 Then ho! for the bride of UUendine, 
 And the tuneful clash of her tambourine ! 
 
 Oh, lier lips are red as tlie richest wine. 
 And are ever wreathed with a smile divine, 
 And damp with the dew of ecstatic bliss. 
 That waits alone for her lover's kiss. 
 Oh well may his heart with passion stream 
 As he lists to the bells of her tambourine ! 
 
 The ripening grapes look clear and red. 
 
 As they hang in the branches over head. 
 
 And the wealth and charm of their sweet perfume 
 
 With fragrance fi.lls the Italian noon. 
 
 Mixed with the breath of a thousand flow'rs ; 
 
o4 THOUGHTFUL HOURS. 
 
 Oh, a hundred maidens are gathered here, 
 With their smiles of love, and their voices clear. 
 With scarlet kirtles, and veils of white, 
 And bosoms a-flame with diamonds bright, 
 With forms of beauty, and ways of grace. 
 But who in all this delightful place. 
 Could dare compare with the lovely queen 
 That sways and reels to her tambourine? 
 
 Her groom is here, but no prince is he ; 
 He came from the sliores of a western sea. 
 In his boyhood days, on an errand of song, 
 To wander the Tuscan hills among, 
 And sing the charms of the dark-eyed girls, 
 That wanton here mid the evening pearls ; 
 And he struck his harp with a nobler touch. 
 And it yielded a sound more grandly rich, 
 When his eyes reposed in a melting dream 
 On the dancing maiden of Ullendine ! 
 
 Wlien he'd won her heart, and gained her love. 
 He untuned his harp and ceased to rove ; 
 He kissed her cheek, and returned again. 
 To his native home by the sweeping main ; 
 And to test her truth did there reside. 
 Five years, afar from his promised bride ! 
 But an Italian girl is ever true ; 
 When her love she gives she will never rue ; 
 So when from the shore of the distant tide. 
 Her rustic lover came back to her side. 
 The wealthy lady of Ullendine, 
 
THOUGHTFUL HOURS. 55 
 
 Came out with her maids to this bow'ry green, 
 And here where the winds of the valley rove, 
 Was wedded to-day to her heart's sweet love. 
 Forsaking her father's marble halls. 
 For a lowly dwelling in the cottage walls, 
 To gather the grapes of Italia's clime. 
 And press and handle the ruby wine ! 
 Oh, look on the form of the happy queen. 
 As she dances a-light to her tambourine. 
 And tell me, friend, if you can't behold 
 That love is better than molten gold ! 
 
 Oh, light is the burden love lays on : 
 
 And a cottage with love is a happier home. 
 
 Than a palace of marble with linings of gold, 
 
 If hearts like that metal be heavy and cold. 
 
 Oh, who is happier, tell me who, 
 
 Than she with the locks of the raven's hue ; 
 
 With her eyes a-flame with their Southern light. 
 
 That look in love tlirough her veil of white ; 
 
 With her lips as red as the ruby wine. 
 
 And the sun-browned cheek of her golden clime, 
 
 As she trips and whirls in joy extreme. 
 
 To the happy bells of her tambourine ? 
 
 THE BEAUTIFUL WATCHER. 
 
 By a calm and lovely river, 
 
 Dwells our Lullie bright and fair, 
 In a quaint and olden cottage, 
 
56 THOUGHTFUL HOURS. 
 
 To a breezy woodland near. 
 Flow'rs of every scent and color 
 
 Round her feed the yellow bee ; 
 And gay birds make SAveetest music, 
 
 With their wild notes glad and free. 
 
 And there ever when the even 
 
 Gathers round that dear old home, 
 She is watching, wistf 'ly watching, 
 
 By the wall where ivies bloom. 
 Watching at the olden gateway, 
 
 All the while the dewdrops fall. 
 For a form that's ever coming, 
 
 But has never come at all. 
 
 And the wild stars fill her fancy. 
 
 With a strange and solemn joy ; 
 And emblazen it with dreamings, 
 
 Of her long-lost sailor boy. 
 And the blossoms wreathing o'er her 
 
 Weep their dew-tears on her hair. 
 On her silken, raven ringlets, 
 
 As she tireless watches there. 
 
 'Neath the ocean wild and far-off, 
 
 Rocking to the cold, white moon, 
 'Mid the wealth of mighty ages 
 
 He has found a seaman's tomb ! 
 There the cold and heavy waters, 
 
 Whirling in their madden'd joy, 
 Braid the silken, raven ringlets 
 
 Of her long-lost sailor boy. 
 
THOUGHTFUL HOURS. 57 
 
 Yet she's watching, ever watching, 
 
 By the ivj-mantled wall ; 
 And perhaps sometimes a-dreaming 
 
 That he'll never come at all ! 
 Down her cheeks, like fading roses, 
 
 From her longing starry eyes, 
 Oft I've seen the tear drop rolling, 
 
 Speaking love that never dies ; 
 
 Speaking love that dyeth never, 
 
 Love that cannot, cannot die. 
 But will only grow the stronger 
 
 As the ages travel hy, 
 And in Tleaven, even Heaven, 
 
 In that land of light and joy, 
 l>ind in sweet and holy union 
 
 Lullie and her sailor hoy ! 
 
 Yet she's watching for his coming. 
 
 Dreaming of the dear old past ; 
 (3f life's early morning pleasures. 
 
 And delights that could not last. 
 Musing on that time of sunshine. 
 
 With its far-hack-gleaming joy, 
 When she listen 'd tirst the story 
 
 ( )f her hlooming sailor boy : 
 
 When he gathered Avild field flowers, 
 
 And bedecked her raven hair; 
 And enclasped her to his bosom ; 
 
 And his passion did declare : 
 When her first sweet love she gave him. 
 
58 THOUGHTFUL HOURS. 
 
 And he call'd her "all his joy," 
 Adding, "You shall never blush, love, 
 For your faithful sailor boy." 
 
 But alas ! beneath the ocean, 
 
 There the mighty billows toy 
 With the lovely silken ringlets 
 
 Of her dear, lost sailor boy ! 
 And we can no longer hide this ; 
 
 She will know the truth ere long ; 
 Wither like a tender flower, 
 
 And lay down the dead among ! 
 
 ~So, we can no longer hide this ; 
 
 She is doubting even now ; 
 I can read it in her pale face, 
 
 Even on her troubled brow. 
 Soon, ah ! soon no more forever. 
 
 At the closing of the day. 
 Will we see our darling watching 
 
 For her loved one far wa3^ 
 
 N"evermore she'll lean in beauty 
 
 On the ivy-mantled wall ; 
 Nevermore we'll hear her weeping, 
 
 "Will he ever come at all ?" 
 But afar away in Heaven, 
 
 In a home of light and joy. 
 She will reign in love and beauty 
 
 With her faithful sailor boy. 
 
THOUGHTFUL HOURS. 59 
 
 DIRGE OF BURKS. 
 
 Ah ! weep, proud Caledonian land. 
 
 Long let thy grief be wild. 
 To mourn the sad, untimely death 
 
 Of Song's divinest child ! 
 Green Scotia's sweetest bard lies low 
 
 White-shrouded for the tomb : 
 Behold her daughters weeping round 
 
 The bard of "bonny Doon !" 
 
 Who has not dropped a silent tear, 
 
 And felt its pow'r to praise. 
 When "Auld Lang Syne's" sweet nuniljers wokt 
 
 Fond thoughts of other days ; 
 Or when his heart-blood gushes forth 
 
 O'er "Highland Mary's" tomb ; 
 Or when he sings to her "in Heaven,'" 
 
 The bard of "bonny Doon !" 
 
 Ah! "Chloris," mourn thy poet now: 
 And, " Jeanie," wail thy love ; 
 
 No more to thee of love to sing- 
 On the "banks of Ayr" he'll rove ! 
 
 Sweet prince of bards ! dark were thy days, 
 And gloom was round thy throne ! 
 
 But thy monument is tears of love. 
 Sweet bard of "bonny Doon !" 
 
 Ah ! Scotland, who shall now awake 
 Thy Sons' daughters' praise, 
 
60 THOUGHTFUL HOURS. 
 
 And sing of Love and Liberty 
 
 In such immortal lays ? 
 Oh, give his name immortal life, 
 
 His fame eternal bloom ; 
 Few hearts like his have blest the world, 
 
 The bard of "-bonny Doon !" 
 
 TO MY LOVED AND LOST (EENIA. 
 
 Tliis Poem is tearfully dedicated to the grim Spirit of Despair. 
 
 As yearns the weary soul for Paradise, 
 
 So thirst I for the light of thy sweet eyes. 
 
 Though we have parted long, maiden fair, 
 
 And I have borne of grief a double share : 
 
 For as a spirit mourns for Heaven lost, 
 
 So I, on life's tempestous ocean tossed, 
 
 Lift up my weeping eyes amid the gloom, 
 
 And mourn for the lost heart that halves my own I 
 
 Ah 1 once did I believe thee kind and true, 
 And in this faith my youthful spirit grew. 
 Till smoothly borne afar on Love's wide sea. 
 My life became a heavenly dream to me ; 
 And I, all fraught with growing hapi)iness, 
 Began, sweet girl, thy sunny soul to bless ; 
 And in the strength of my unljlemislTd faith. 
 For thee I could have died a tri];)le death ! 
 
 But short was this sweet sabbath of my years, 
 Soon turned I darklins; in a flood of tears. 
 
THOUGHTFUL HOURS. 61 
 
 Lost and alone, without a guiding star : 
 From scenes of former joys wild tossed afar. 
 Ah ! then my cup was full ! God only knows 
 The pain I bore, the deep, deep fest'ring woes, 
 That spilt the life-blood of my soul into 
 The rolling years ! — blood of this soul so true ! 
 
 My sorrow was, sweet one, for thy untruth. 
 For thou liadst pledged to love immortal youth. 
 And sealed the promise on my lips, love ; 
 E'en God had penned it in the courts above ! 
 And I, in the rich trust which filled my soul, 
 Had given thee my heart, my life, uiy all ; 
 And turned from this dark world to find in thee 
 That perfect light, that I shall never see ! 
 
 But yet I blame thee not, precious one, 
 
 Although my hot tears must forever run, • 
 
 For thou art better far than I, fair love, 
 
 (Fair as the faultless angels are above !) 
 
 I know thou didst not know aright this heart. 
 
 This faithful heart, from which thou sad didst part ; 
 
 And lip, nor pen, nor time, nor Heaven, nor Hell, 
 
 Shall wean my soul from thee I love so well ! 
 
 MY LOST LOVE. 
 
 Oh, you had loved her too, so fair. 
 Yea loved her for her silken hair. 
 And for the soft brown of her brow, 
 
62 THOUGHTFUL HOURS. 
 
 And for the melancholy glow 
 
 Of her dark lustrous eyes, those eyes, 
 
 Two glorious stars of Paradise ! 
 
 And you had loved her for her voice, 
 Whose tones can make the heart rejoice. 
 Or droop in blood, as mine hath done ! 
 And you had loved the gracious one, 
 For her soft tiny hand, light as 
 The faint wings of the summer breeze ; 
 And for her smiling, dainty mouth, 
 Fair as a rose-bud from the South, 
 The sweet south side of Heaven ! Oh, 
 What bliss from those sweet li]>s doth flow ! 
 
 Friend, you would say on seeing her, 
 This is the grace of years afar. 
 Returned again to this dim earth : 
 Rays of celestial light drawn forth 
 From the lost sun of centuries ! 
 From the same sun that gave tlie ra3^s, 
 Of Cleopatra's wildering eyes. 
 Or o'er the fancy blazed in gold. 
 Of him who wrought the Sibyls' mould, 
 And shaped the famed Semiramis, 
 Bestowing grace approaching bliss I 
 
 Oh, her sweet face remindetli me 
 Of some brig] it island in the sea ! 
 A sunny land of fruit and floM^'rs, 
 Where love runs laughing down the hours, 
 And music through the impassion'd soul, 
 
THOUGHTFUL HOUKS. 63 
 
 Bids endless streams of rapture roll ; 
 And the rich tints of summer-home, 
 In one refulgent glory bloom : 
 Where deep enchantment lulls the mind, 
 And rides on every balmy wind ; 
 Where all wears Heaven's blessedness — 
 Joy, beauty, purity, and peace, 
 This is the emblem of her face. 
 
 You too had wept to see her weep, 
 And feel her hot tears on your cheek. 
 Knowing ^he loved you, dearly too, 
 And yet because you seemed not true, 
 And slander's spotted tongue was loud 
 In wicked proof, and you too proud 
 To beg her favor, she in j)ain 
 Was going back to tlie world again ; 
 Was clinging now for time the last. 
 In beauty to your faithful breast ! 
 Oh, that fond souls could understand 
 Each other right, and hand in hand, 
 With hearts unchanged, love till the end. 
 
 But let her go : and may sweet peace 
 And happiness her whole life bless ; 
 For though she 's filled my days with care, 
 I wish no evil unto her. 
 ]S"ay, gentle maiden, I will strive 
 To live the years which Heaven may give, 
 Unchanged in heart to God and thee, 
 A wanderer lone on life's dark sea ; 
 Still hoping that when all is o'er. 
 
(34" THOUtJHTFUL HOURS. 
 
 And we are hurled on Death's cold shore, 
 The Kingdom by our suffering won, 
 Together we'll receive a crown 
 Of light before our Father's throne. 
 
 THE LAY OF DESPAIR. 
 
 We met when the Summer winds kissed the sweet flowers, 
 That waved in rich beauty o'er garden and lawn ; 
 
 When anthems of love floated down the glad hours. 
 And all nature praised the omnipotent One. 
 
 We plighted our love ere the Autumn had laden, 
 The vine of the wild grape with vintage of blue ; 
 
 For the joy of my soul was that beautiful maiden, 
 As sweet as the wild rose, and tender true. 
 
 But where now, where are those ties of aifection, 
 We wove in those days of the fibres of love ? 
 
 Away in the lone waste of fond recollection, 
 
 They bind each wreck'd dream that my fond fancy wove! 
 
 Oay, beautiful girl ! she is now where I found her, 
 In the arms of another, his glory and pride ! 
 
 Xo more shall my arm cling with fondness around her, 
 But now ere I saw her I wish I had died 1 
 
 From the bright golden bowers of orange and myrtle, 
 The Spring may return with her beauty and bloom ; 
 
 The storm may give place to the voice of the turtle. 
 But never to me shall Toy rise from her tomb ! 
 
THOUGHTFUL HOURS. 65 
 
 ^o, no ! dear (Eenia, the weird voice of sorrow 
 Forever shall haunt this sad bosom of mine : 
 
 Each lone night shall yield to a darker to-morrow, 
 But may peace and sweet pleasure forever be thine ! 
 
 LIFE IS i^OT LIKE IT USED TO BE. 
 
 Tt was a lovely August evening. Lonely I stood ;ind looked down 
 from tlie village on the hill ovei- the gieen valley where (Eenia lately 
 dwelt. I gazed into the very door where she so often met me witli a 
 smile, -and saw the flelds and willow groves beyond. l>iit the scene was 
 lovely no more! My heart only hied afresh, and 1 turned ;iwa> and 
 wrote : 
 
 Life is not like it used to be. 
 
 It's not so full of joy. 
 Of happiness that came unsought, 
 
 And peace without alloy I 
 Xo, no ! my life is dark as death : 
 
 I would that I were dead ! 
 Oh ! must my soul thus ever pine. 
 
 My heart forever bleed ? 
 
 O God ! could I but for one hour, 
 
 Have peace as once I had ; 
 And while I hold her to my breast. 
 
 Once more feel proud and glad ! 
 O thou sweet idol of my heart, 
 
 My soul's lost treasure, hear. 
 Is this the holy pledge of love ? 
 
 Ah, let me shed a tear ! 
 9 
 
t)6 THOUGHTFUL HOURS. 
 
 Thou hast made me the thrall of woe, 
 
 Ahandon'd to despair ! 
 Mv heart is now the throne of pain ! 
 
 The weeping place of care ! 
 Lonely and sad I travel on, 
 
 From weary day to day, 
 A hopeless pilgrim to that home 
 
 Beneath the kindly clay ! 
 
 ARABELLA. 
 
 In a vineyard on Arabia's shore, 
 
 l^ang Arabella sweet, 
 (The damp winds from the moon-lit sea 
 
 Upon her white brow beat.) 
 
 Saying, "Where is he whom I so love? 
 
 Oh, where is he, say, where ? 
 Come back to me, O precious one ! 
 
 Come back and soothe my care ! 
 
 I cannot live another day 
 
 If thou dost not return ; 
 My heart and soul in torment drear 
 
 Vehemently do burn !'' 
 
 She heard a harp afar off sound. 
 Out under the great white moon. 
 
 And a song of Arabella sweet, 
 To a slow and pleasant tune ; 
 
THOUftHTFUL HOURS. 67 
 
 And she knelt in the vineyard's open gate, 
 
 And drank the coming sound, 
 Till Orma kissed her pearl-wliite brow 
 
 With his arms her neck around ! 
 
 And said, "Why mournest thou, sweet one, 
 
 Why mournest thou to-night ?" 
 While she sank in beauty to his breast, 
 
 In the setting moon's pale light. 
 
 The low moon trembled on the sea. 
 And the white waves lapp'd the shore, 
 
 When he softly whisper'd in her ear 
 That they should part no more ! 
 
 But where art thou, gentle youth, 
 
 Say, where art thou to-day ? 
 And why does Arabella weep 
 
 Her dreary life away ? 
 
 RULENK. 
 
 A country lass was sweet Rulene, 
 Witli kirtle red, and gown of green. 
 
 Sir Rudolph was a gallant knight, 
 With belt of steel, and plume of wiiite. 
 
 His castle walls were high and fair, 
 And every charm of wealth was there. 
 
t>8 THOUGHTFUL HOURS. 
 
 His servants tilled a hundred hills, 
 His Hocks drank from as many rills. 
 
 He chanced to ride one summer day, 
 Across his meadows wide and gay ; 
 
 And there he spied tlie fair Rulene, 
 Gathering wild wild flow'rs upon the green. 
 
 He rode up proudly to her side ; 
 
 She thought that he was come to chide, 
 
 J3ut he only smiled on her and said, 
 "Lassie, I wish a rosie red.*' 
 
 She gave tlie liow'r with gentle bow, 
 Sir Rudolph thanked her kind and low ; 
 
 Then turned away his dappled steed. 
 And rode on down the blooming mead. 
 
 She thought upon his wealth and fame. 
 Then on her own })Oor, obscure name ; 
 
 And as she gazed out after him, 
 
 (Ireat tear-drops made her sweet eyes dim ! 
 
 The poor girl mourned her humble birth, 
 That crushed the dearest liope of earth ; 
 
 For had she dwelt in halls of pride, 
 She might have hoped to be his bride. 
 
THOUGHTFUL HOURS. 69 
 
 Her heart was lost, her peace was strowri, 
 And every charm of life was gone. 
 
 From that day forth it has been said, 
 A smile ne'er wreathed, her lips of red! 
 
 Alas, 'tis thus too much with all 
 The sons of this terrestrial ball. 
 
 We mourn for what God hath denied, 
 And vainly sufler in our pride. 
 
 We fancy oft what might have been, 
 Then weep because fate came between. 
 
 If we resigned to doom conform. 
 We rob fate of her keenest thorn. 
 
 To be content with Heaven's ordain, 
 Is to avoid life's direst pain. 
 
 THE VISION. 
 
 'Twas when I was sad and weary. 
 
 In the depths of silent night ; 
 When the wind was 'mid the vines. 
 
 And the stars were filled with light 
 And the moon hung white above 
 
 Where sea-waves their borders lap. 
 That I musing heard a sound 
 
 Like a mighty thunder-clap ! 
 
70 THOUGHTFUL HOURS. 
 
 And I 811W tlie stars retreat 
 
 To the low horizon's vero^e ; 
 And I saw the tremblino: moon 
 
 In the western deep submerge ; 
 And tlie groaning heavens part ; 
 
 And the King of Glory stand, 
 'Mid-way 'tween my wondering eyes 
 
 And a dear, delightful land 1 
 
 Where the fields were broad and green, 
 
 And the hills were crown'd with gold 
 And the streams like crystal brilliant 
 
 Under blooming myrtle rolled. 
 Rolled toward a broad, bright sea, 
 
 Deep, and clear, and free frf)m strife ; 
 And I knew the pulseless deep 
 
 Was the holy Sea of Life ! 
 
 And I heard another sound 
 
 Like when tempests clench in wratli, 
 And from underneath my feet 
 
 Fled away the groaning Eartli ! 
 And I" hung suspended high. 
 
 In a wide luminous space, 
 With a terror-stricken heart. 
 
 And a wild, cadaverous face 1 
 
 And I saw the tlames of Hell 
 Rolling in the depths below. 
 
 Half suppressing in their wrath. 
 Screams that told of dreadful woe ! 
 
 There I floated like an atom. 
 
THOUGHTFUL HOURS. 71 
 
 On a crystal ocean's breast ■; 
 With a yawning Hell beneath^ 
 And above a Heaven of rest ! 
 
 Flutter'd in its clay my spirit 
 
 To unloose its wings of gold, 
 Fearful lest its cell might fall, 
 
 To the raging flames that rolled 
 O'er the sulphur beds below. 
 
 In the fervent pits of Hell ; 
 From which issued peals of wailing, 
 
 Like a sad mysterious knell ! 
 
 And I raised my hands to Heaven, 
 
 And I shrieked in wild despair. 
 While my buoyant body struggled 
 
 Like a phantom in the air ! 
 And I cried with fear and said, 
 
 "0 Jehovah ! hear my call ! 
 Take me to thy blessed arms ! 
 
 Save me ! save me, or I fall !" 
 
 Then a voice from Heaven responded 
 
 Sweet as sound of falling streams, 
 "•Look aloft, O guilty sinner. 
 
 See where thy Redeemer reigns !" 
 And I raised my eyes to Heaven, 
 
 (Alia! dear, delightful dream!) 
 And I saw the strand of gems, 
 
 In the Lamb's great glory flame ! 
 
72 THOUGHTFUL HOURS. 
 
 And I saw the jasper walls 
 
 Of the Lamb's most pleasant Bride, 
 With their shining domes and treasures, 
 
 Mirrored in Life's crystal tide. 
 And I saw her streets of gold, 
 
 Flaming in the living beams ; 
 And I listen'd angel music 
 
 Swelling loud in melting strains ! 
 
 And I saw the Blest Ones straying 
 
 On the glory-lighted shore, 
 Where the verdure withers not. 
 
 And the birds sing evermore ; 
 For a Summer smiles for aye 
 
 On those slopes of gems and gold — 
 Ah ! a tongue might tell forever, 
 
 And that bliss be still untold ! 
 
 Carnal minds cannot conceive 
 
 Half the beauty of that land, 
 Where Life's peaceful waters curl, 
 
 On the green immortal strand ! 
 But again I heard a voice 
 
 From the jasper walls resound, 
 Saying, "guilty spirit, turn, 
 
 Turn while grace may yet be found ! 
 
 Shun the gapping Hell beneath ; 
 
 Seek the blissful Heaven above : 
 Rise upon the wings of faith. 
 
 To the land of Light and Love !" 
 
THOUGHTFUL HOURS. 73 
 
 And I hung repentant there, 
 
 In the dreadest agony, 
 Till the Dove of God descended 
 
 With its precious gift for me : 
 
 Till the angels dried my tears, 
 
 And my spirit filled with song ; 
 And the sweet Peace-herald came, 
 
 Tripping on the notes along ! 
 Then the bright ones closed my eyes, 
 
 With their blessed fingers fond ! 
 And I slept, and when I woke. 
 
 On the Earth had morning dawn VI. 
 
 THE EN'CHAl^TED FOREST. 
 
 I know a forest dim and old. 
 With fragrant bow'rs of green and gold, 
 That is life-dear to this fond heart, 
 From which its memory ne'er shall part. 
 
 Xot for its ancient oaks that sigh. 
 Beneath the breezy Summer sky, 
 In sad'ning tones, as if they bore. 
 Hearts heavy yet with grief of yore ; 
 ]S[ot for its willows drooping low. 
 With solemn wave in sign of woe ; 
 Not for its bowers cool and deep. 
 With aromatic odors sweet ; 
 Not for the pink-eyed daisy, nor 
 10 
 
74 THOUGHTFUL HOURS. 
 
 Blue violets that blossom there, 
 
 And wave above the moss, do I 
 
 For that enchanted woodland sigh. 
 
 Not for the bluebell of the ledge ; 
 
 Xor lilly of the fragrant hedge ; 
 
 I^or yellow cowslip blowing there, 
 
 Do I esteem that old wood dear. 
 
 The picture loveliest, best of all 
 
 That hang in memory's sacred hall. 
 
 Not for its brooklets clear and bright. 
 
 Rolling beneath the checkered light ; 
 
 Not for its wild birds singing clear. 
 
 Which tarry there full half the year ; 
 
 Not for its shady paths at noon ; 
 
 Nor for its calm when day is done, 
 
 Do I that olden woodland love, 
 
 Witli lieart unchanged where e'er I rove! 
 
 A little sister once I had, 
 With deep-black eyes so bright and glad. 
 So full of love and truthfulness. 
 That angels wooed her into Bliss ! 
 
 In that wild forest dim and old. 
 Beneath its veil of green and gold, 
 We wander'd in the amber glow, 
 Of peaceful Summers long ago, 
 Light-hearted as the warbling throng. 
 That sing the fragrant bow'rs among ; 
 But her little feet grew weary there 
 One day, and when the evening air, 
 Blew cool the dewy leaves among. 
 
THOUGHTFUL HOURS. 75 
 
 Where poured the thrush her vesper son^-, 
 
 I made the child so bright and fair, 
 
 A couch of crimson foliage there ! 
 
 And as the day-king from afar, 
 
 Fast fleeing in his rosy car, 
 
 A-back his last red arrow hurl'd. 
 
 Across the mountains of the world. 
 
 My little sister passed away, 
 
 To realms of immortal day : 
 
 Yea, through the open gates of light, 
 
 Her loving spirit took its flight. 
 
 Her little hands I folded on 
 Her pulseless breast white as tlie swan ; 
 And made for her a i^eaceful tomb. 
 Deep in that dim old forest's gloom ; 
 And with a tender hand I laid 
 The little girl among the dead ! 
 And this is why my faithful heart, 
 iShall never from that old wood part. 
 
 MY CHILDHOOD HOME. 
 
 I see my childhood's sunny home 
 
 Fair on the green lake shore ; 
 How sweet the ivy twines about 
 
 The old familiar door ! 
 And there the breezy willow sighs 
 
 As if in heart-felt woe, 
 Recalling many a tear of love, 
 
 I shed so long ago. 
 
76 THOUGHTFUL HOURS. 
 
 On, on the purple ripples roll, 
 
 Across the dear old lake — 
 (Oh, launch me on its cool sweet brealt 
 
 I pray for pity sake I ) 
 Ah, now I hear the good old songs. 
 
 We sang so sweet of yore, 
 Mix'd with the warbler's dying fall, 
 
 Along the dewy shore ! 
 
 Again I hear my brother's flute 
 
 Chord with my sister's voice : 
 Oh, how the dear familiar lay 
 
 Makes me again rejoice I . 
 I see the busy reapers too. 
 
 Among the golden sheaves ; 
 While soft the graceful dance goes round 
 
 Beneath the elm leaves. 
 
 Again I see my mother's face, 
 
 Her angel face so dear : 
 And fling my arm around her neck, 
 
 And twine her long grey hair ! 
 And once again my father's voice 
 
 Sinks solemn on my ear. 
 For us, the children of his love. 
 
 In deep and earnest prayer. 
 
 A thousand blessings on liis head. 
 
 And on his silver brow : 
 (I know he dwells in endless bliss 
 
 With our Redeemer now ! ) 
 
THOUGHTFUL HOURS. 
 
 He sent conviction to my heart, 
 
 And saved my soul at last ; 
 For through his prayers am I redeem'd, 
 
 And given peace and rest ! 
 
 Sisters and brothers kind and dear, 
 
 I see you all again ! 
 We take the sweet old Sabbath walk 
 
 Adown the long green lane, 
 And speak of God, His works and ways, 
 
 And praise Him as we roam ! — 
 Oh, dear as life the lovely scenes 
 
 Of childhood's holv home ! 
 
 SCHONBERO 
 
 On looking at a picture of "Sclioiil)ei-fi- and the Rhine.' 
 
 The Day-king dies ! On Schiinberg's mossy tow'rs 
 
 Drops his last far-spent dart of mellow gold, 
 Where in the shatter'd turret sits the owl. 
 
 Complaining sad, as for some joy of old. 
 As on this ruined wall I stand I see, 
 
 All smote with fire the great Rhine wander by ; 
 And hear the home-returning peasants sing, 
 
 Where rich with flow'rs broad fertile meadows lie. 
 Low-seated on the beautiful green sliore. 
 
 Far down below, I see the village in 
 The sunset blaze lift up its burnished spires, 
 
78 THOUGHTFUL HOURS. 
 
 And all appears more lovely than a dream ! 
 The dells and slopes are bathed in yellow mist ; 
 
 With vines and shrubs these rocks are girdled round : 
 The hoary bat darts through the dark'ning air, 
 
 And spicy winds grieve o'er the cool, damp ground. 
 Zoning the sky rich clouds spread overhead. 
 
 In which silver, and gold, and rubies blend ! 
 Oh ! here I could forever more abide, 
 
 Wishing my days might never, never end ! 
 Sweet are thy slopes gushing with blood-red wine, 
 And pleasant are thy waters, fabled Rhine ! 
 
THOUGHTFUL HOURS. 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 subject. page. 
 
 The Tomb in the Cliff, 47 
 
 The Castle by the Sea, 49 
 
 The Bride of ULLENDI^'E, 52 
 
 The Beautiful Watcher, 55 
 
 Dirge of Burns, 59 
 
 To My Loved and Lost CEenia, .... 60 
 My Lost Love, . . . . . . . .61 
 
 The Lay of Despair, 64 
 
 Life is not Like it Used to Be, 65 
 
 Arabella, (iQ 
 
 Rulene, 67 
 
 The Vision, 69 
 
 The Enchanted Forest 73 
 
 My Childhood Home, 75 
 
 Schonberg, . 77 
 
SECULAR AND SACRED. 
 
TENDER MELODIES. 
 
 THE 8ECULAE SONGS. 
 
 THE ISLE OF THE BEAUTIFUL STAR. 
 
 In the Avild sea of life there's an evergreen isle, 
 
 Where the sun and the moon are not wortliy to smile ; 
 
 And it never was day, and it never was night, 
 
 In that rapturous land of the spirit's delight! 
 
 But away in the depths of the heavens afar. 
 
 In joy ever smileth a beautiful star, 
 
 Through the faint, mellow twilight that covers that shore, 
 
 Where the frowns of a cold world oppress us no more. 
 
 Oh fly, maiden, fly 
 
 From this lone land, afar 
 To the jubilant isle of the beautiful star. 
 
 There storms never gather to darken the sky, 
 
 And the green never pales, and the dews never dry ; 
 
 Where the exquisite hymns of the breeze and the stream 
 
 In unison blend like sweet sounds in a dream : 
 
 Where the flowers like rainbows bend down in their bloom, 
 
 And the air waxes faint with its wealth of perfume. 
 
 There gay birds chant ever in wildwood, on lea, 
 
 And bright lialls are waiting for you and for me. 
 
 Oh fly with me, fly 
 
 From this bleak shore, afar 
 To the ever-green isle of the beautiful star. 
 
^4 TENDER MOLODIES. 
 
 Tlic'ix' the myrtle and mjrrli, and the cedar and pine, 
 Grow lovelj' and green on tlie mountains suldime; 
 And bright eaves and fountains all glit'ring with spar. 
 Gleam down through the faint, mellow light from afar 
 And castles of pearl, and bright temples of gold, 
 On every green slope stand out lovely and bold. 
 Oh, there's wliere with thee my young soul pines to be, 
 Then liie, maiden, hie to those borders with me. 
 
 Where Venus reclines 
 
 In her gold-girdled car. 
 To welcome us home 'neath the beautiful star. 
 
 Oh fair are the nymphs of that halcyon land, 
 As gaily they dance where the citron trees bend. 
 To the sound of the cornet, and dulcet, and sliell, 
 In l)ow'rs amaranthine where clear fountains swell. 
 There the sylphs and the graces rove all the year long. 
 And the wandering sera[)h is soft in her song ; 
 Oh, there, blooming maiden, lets hie in our youtli. 
 And reign in the realms of rapture and truth. 
 
 For Love is the name, 
 
 I have heard it from far, 
 Of the ever-o-reen. isle of the beautiful star. 
 
 LEIB A : OR THE TEMPLES OF LOVE. 
 
 The sun never smiles from his palace of gold, 
 
 And the stars never weep on the mountains of night, 
 
 Lut my mind sweeps a-back to a love-May of old, 
 Or rises aloft to the Kingdom of Light, 
 
TENDER MELODIES. 
 
 85 
 
 To tlie land of sweet rest, to the home of the soul, 
 To the valleys of peace, to the sjiirifs rich goal, 
 To tlie morniiio-lit plains where eternally roll 
 The waters of I.ife hy the teni|)les of Love I 
 
 My sio-ht cannot soar to that sweet, happy land. 
 
 Rut I've seen its gold horders in visions of bliss ; 
 And my soul by its balm-breathing gales has been fan'd. 
 
 When faint in the sere, parching desert of this : 
 And I long to be free from this life's burning woes. 
 And away in those far blessed mansions repose, 
 Or walk by my love where so tenderiy tlows 
 
 The river of Life by the temples of Love ! 
 
 \ 
 O Leiba 1 'tis there thou art roaming to-day, 
 
 In the myrtle-decked iields on the ever-green shore; 
 From the trials of Earth thou hast long passed away, 
 
 And the place that once knew thee doth know thee r 
 more ! 
 Here, Leiba, sweet Leiba, we wander'd of old ; 
 And love in our hearts did her treasures unfold, 
 But to-day thou look'st up to the mountains of gold 
 
 From the beautiful gates of the temples of Love ! 
 
 But I'm traveling to thee, love, mid changes and gloom. 
 
 Even up to the balm-breathing garden of G-od, 
 Where beauty and pleasure unceasingly bloom, 
 
 And the sunbeams of Glory are scattered abroad : 
 And I know that the space which our souls doth divide 
 Is but narrow to-day, and I soon by thy side 
 Shall wander in peace by the crystalline tide. 
 
 That so dreamily gleams by the temples of Love! 
 
'SH TENDER MELODIES. 
 
 Al^^l^m NELL. 
 
 Pour sorrowfully down tli}^ beams, 
 
 gentle Summer moon ; 
 And weep with me, ye holy stars. 
 
 Amid the solemn gloom ; 
 And softly murmur, little brook, 
 
 A-down a shady dell, 
 For there I met one balm}- eve 
 
 True-hearted Annie JSTell. 
 
 Ye waves that beat the long, grey shore. 
 
 With gentler motion roll, 
 Xear where ye writhe a cloud once dim'd 
 
 The sunshine of niy soul ! 
 'Twas on the dreary, salt-white sand, 
 
 iSTear where the broad waves swell, 
 I sadly bid good-bye to my 
 
 True-hearted Annie ]S"ell ! 
 
 A many a year ere I returned 
 
 They say my true love died ; 
 Yet from my eyes in ceaseless streams 
 
 Flows sorrow's holy tide ! 
 On yonder green where lilies droop, 
 
 Below the breezy hill. 
 They show tia me the grave of my 
 
 True-hearted A nnie Nell ! 
 
TENDER MELODIES. 
 
 BARBARA ELLEN. * 
 
 The flow'ry Spring had just retuni'd, 
 The green leaves were a-looming ; 
 
 The wild birds sang on every tree, 
 And every flow'r was blooming, 
 
 When Saden Green his servant sent 
 To Rhone, where she did dwell in, 
 
 To bring unto his dying bed, 
 His cruel Barbara Ellen. 
 
 The servant found the sweet fair maid. 
 And said, "Thou blest of Heaven, 
 
 Please with me to my master go, 
 If thou be Barbara Ellen. 
 
 He moaning lies upon his bed. 
 
 Perhaps will die ere even. 
 But begs, and wishes ere he dies. 
 
 To see fair Barbara Ellen." 
 
 Then slowly rose the proud fair maid, 
 
 As slowly followed after. 
 And slowly came at set of sun. 
 
 Before the servant's master. 
 
 * There is an ancient song of the same title from wliich the i)l;in of 
 this is derived. 
 
TENDER MELODIES. 
 
 And Saden Green said, "Barbara fair, 
 From the cold grave }'ou can save me. 
 
 If you'll forgive a broken heart, 
 
 And your love once more give me ! " 
 
 Said she, "Young man, time was when I 
 My first pure passion gave you, 
 
 But you have long unworthy proved. 
 And nr)w I scorn to save you ! 
 
 Do you not, sir, remember well, 
 In proud Earl Hamlin's dwelling. 
 
 You made the toasts go round and round. 
 But slighted Barbara Ellen ?" 
 
 He turned his pale face to the wall, 
 For death was with him dealing, 
 
 Saying, "Adieu, my dear friends all. 
 And adieu to Barbara Ellen !" 
 
 But when she heard tlie castle bell 
 
 For her true love a-knelling, 
 Each loud and doleful stroke it struck 
 
 Spoke woe to Barbara Ellen. 
 
 She bade her mother make lier bed, 
 That eve both soft and narrow, 
 
 And said, "He died for me to-day, 
 I'll die for him to-morrow !" 
 
TENDER MELODIES. 89 
 
 And side by side in one deep grave, 
 
 They laid them down at even, 
 With cross'd hands laid on other's hearts, 
 
 And their faces turn'd to Heaven ! 
 
 ROANOKE SIDE. 
 
 I love my blooming Jennie dear. 
 Young blue-eyed Willie cried, 
 
 One eve while gathering flowers sweet, 
 By bonny Roanoke side. 
 
 Behold I gather blooms to crown 
 My true and promised bride, 
 
 For she'll be mine, and I'll be hers. 
 By bonny Roanoke side ! 
 
 The birds sang sweet o'er all the green, 
 The waves in light did glide ; 
 
 But little did fond Willie dream 
 They flashed above his bride ! 
 
 To meet him at the set of sup 
 
 Her boat was on the tide ; 
 A gale passed o'er', she came no more 
 
 To bonny Roanoke side ! 
 
 The youth cast to the sod his flow'rs, 
 And turned away and cried, 
 12 
 
90 TENDER MELODIES. 
 
 When told she'd speak to him no more 
 By bonny Roanoke side ! 
 
 They brought her from the seething flood, 
 He looked on her and died ! 
 
 Thus passed away a loving pair 
 From bonny Roanoke side. 
 
 A SONG OF LONG AGO. 
 
 Come sit beside me, Mary dear, 
 
 And while the sun is low, 
 I'll shed a tear and sing to you, 
 
 A song of long ago. 
 
 I mind me when your hair was brown. 
 
 Like coils of tawny gold, 
 And backward from your dainty brow 
 
 In sunny ripples rolled. 
 
 And then your cheeks were like the rose, 
 Your brow was like the swan — 
 
 You were as fair a gentle girl 
 As e'er the sun shone on ! 
 
 But now your hair is growing white. 
 Your cheeks are turning pale, 
 
 And the deep furrows on your brow 
 Of many a trial tell. 
 
TENDER MELODIES. 91 
 
 But do not think I love you less. 
 
 Now that you're growing old ; 
 The love which warmed my boyhood breast 
 
 Heav'n knows shall ne'er grow cold ! 
 
 Your're kind to me as e'er you were, 
 
 I bless you for it too ; 
 And all the beauty you have lost 
 
 God will some day renew. 
 
 Then hand in hand let's travel on, 
 
 As He directs to go, 
 Till in the skies our souls forget 
 
 To mourn the "Long Ago." 
 
 MY DARK EYED SHEPHERD. 
 
 A soft wind fans the clouds apart ; 
 
 The moon is floating low ; 
 On fifty hills her soft light lies, 
 
 And all of them I know ! 
 But there I rove no more with you, 
 My dark-eyed shepherd kind and true ! 
 
 iSoft sighs the zephyr in the grove, 
 There dewy woodbines bloom : 
 
 A thousand stars look down upon 
 Thy cold grave through the gloom, 
 
 While sad and lone I weep for you, 
 
 My dark-eyed shepherd kind and true ! 
 
92 TENDER MELODIES. 
 
 As wanes the pale moon in the west, 
 So wanes poor Annie's bloom, 
 
 Since her dear Colin silent sleeps 
 Within the dreary tomb : 
 
 Her heart lies in the ground with you, 
 
 My dark-eyed shepherd kind and true ! 
 
 On Moanon's lonely banks he takes 
 In death his long repose ; 
 
 Here holy dews weep all night long 
 Upon the drooping rose ; 
 
 And angels bright keep watch o'er you, 
 
 My dark-eyed shepherd kind and true ! 
 
 Alone I weep, alone I wail, 
 
 No other wish have I, 
 But meet my Colin in a land 
 
 That blooms beyond the sky. 
 Eternal bliss to share with you. 
 My dark-eyed shepherd kind and true ! 
 
 LUDA GLAINE. 
 
 Like morning in flower-crowned June, 
 So lovely was sweet Luda Glaine ; 
 Like a harp's mellow tone far out under the moon. 
 Her voice with strange music did teem. 
 
 In a wood-shaded cottage she dwelt. 
 
 On the banks of a wild mountain stream, 
 
TENDER MELODIES. » 
 
 That turns an old mill at the foot of a hill, 
 In a glen of old willows so green. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Sweet Luda ! dear Luda ! with thy love all untold, 
 Thou hast gone through the tomb to thy long, long home, 
 Where the angels have crowned thee with gold ! 
 
 Each morning she'd sing a sweet song, 
 In the grove by the side of the mead, 
 Where a pale marble cross overgrown with wild moss, 
 In'ow tells you our Luda is dead ! 
 She'd weave a sweet wreath of wild ilow'rs. 
 For her parent each eventime lone, 
 On the sill of the door she shall enter no more. 
 To brighten that old cottage home. 
 
 Luda ! look down from thy home, 
 On the mountain of rubies and gold. 
 
 And smile on me sweet as I wander to weep 
 For thee and the pleasures of old ! 
 
 1 cannot suppress the fond tear. 
 
 As I stray on this wild mountain path. 
 That leads to the cross overgrown with wild moss, 
 That crowns the lone temple of death ! 
 
 Good-bye, my sw^eet Luda Glaine, 
 We have parted forever below ; 
 I shall see thee no more till we meet on that shore. 
 As I hope, where Life's sweet blossoms blow. 
 Grood-bye : this life soon will be gone — 
 Come down to the sea me to meet, 
 When you learn I draw near to the shores of our home, 
 E'en the Heavenlv Eden so sweet ! 
 
94 TENDER MELODIES. 
 
 I HAVE DEEAMED YOU LOVE ME. 
 
 Mary, Mary, sweet and fair, 
 Blue of eye and blonde of hair, 
 I have dreamed you love me, O, 
 Tell me, tell me, is it so ? 
 
 From that low, sweet voice of thine, 
 Voice whose ring is so divine, 
 I have dreamed you love me, 0, 
 Tell me, tell me, is it so ? 
 
 From the soft and tender light 
 Of thine eyes so blue and bright, 
 I have dreamed you love me, 0, 
 Tell me, tell me, is it so ? 
 
 From thy sweet and winning smile. 
 That methinks could not beguile, 
 I have dreamed you love me, 0, 
 Tell me, tell me, is it so ? 
 
 From thy words and from thy ways. 
 Always brimming full of grace, 
 I have dreamed you love me, 0, 
 Tell me, tell me, is it so ? 
 
 CASSANDRA. 
 
 Ye phantoms that dance through the chamber of thought, 
 Come fortli on the wings of delight, 
 
TENDER MELODIES. 95 
 
 Adorn this mad lay that my soul shall pour forth, 
 Of a maiden most perfect and bright : 
 
 Oh ! the glory of Heaven, and the beauty of Earth, 
 
 Do meet and commune in her eyes ! 
 Her heart is made rich in the kindness of God, 
 
 And the sound of His harp in her voice ! 
 
 The bolt that runs red through the gloom of the storm 
 
 Is melted to love at her grace ; 
 And would turn from his path should he meet the fair 
 nymph. 
 
 And passing smile kind in her face ! 
 
 The image of God is more perfect in her, 
 
 Than in any form else on the Earth ; 
 And the stars sang together like sisters in joy. 
 
 When they heard the glad news of her birth ! 
 
 Oh, the fierce flames of love how they burn in my soul ! 
 
 How they torture and writhe in their might ! 
 Cassandra ! Cassandra ! I'm mad of thy charms ! 
 
 And sick of the sweets of delio;ht ! 
 
 SWEET-EYED MARY. 
 
 Sweet-eyed Mary, gay and fair, 
 Lovely as the angels are ! 
 Better loved you could not be. 
 Will you not come back to me 
 
96 TENDER MOLODIES. 
 
 Do you mind that liappj day. 
 In the blooming time of May, 
 When you gave your heart to me, 
 Sitting by the purple sea ? 
 
 Oh, the flashing, opal sea, 
 How its light comes back to me. 
 As my thoughts the days pursue, 
 * When I dream'd that you were true. 
 
 True — and so I knew you were, 
 
 Pure and true as angels are ! 
 
 It was slander's artful tongue, 
 
 Smote our peace and wrought the wrong. 
 
 And we both have sufFer'd pain — 
 Give me your pure heart again ! 
 Better loved you could not be. 
 Will you not come back to me ? 
 
 DAISIE MAY 
 
 When first the little god of love 
 
 Taught me his pow'r to know, 
 I sought a corresponding breast 
 
 To give obedience due. 
 I crossed no vapor-braided hills, 
 
 Nor billows cold and grey, 
 For I had known from infancy 
 
 Fair blue-eyed Daisie May. 
 
TENDER MELODIES, 97 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 My blue-eyed Daisie May, 
 My blue-ej^ed Daisie May, 
 I never, never shall forget 
 My blue-eyed Daisie May ! 
 
 To her I told my honest mind, 
 
 With boyhood's bashful tongue, 
 Incompetent to fill the task. 
 
 Had we not known so long. 
 T mark'd her down-east maiden brow, 
 
 The crimson in her cheek ; 
 Her heart was full — -I read her mind — 
 
 Her lips they could not speak ! 
 
 Through all the pleasant Summer time 
 
 Rejoiced I in her love. 
 Till yellow Autumn came and took 
 
 Away my pretty dove ! 
 And many a bitter tear was shed 
 
 That sere and mournful day, 
 When in the ground they hid from me 
 
 My blue-eyed Daisie May! 
 
 The world was beautiful and l)right 
 
 When she in life was gay. 
 But now 'tis gloomy, lone, and sad, 
 
 Since died my Daisie May. 
 Tlie grass has flourished green and fair 
 
 Long o'er her silent clay, 
 But in my heart shall ever live 
 
 Sweet blue-eyed Daisie May ! 
 
TET 
 
 98 TENDER MELODIES. 
 
 WEDDING DAY ODE. 
 
 What asks the bridegroom of his God 
 
 This happy, festive day ? 
 The smiles of Heaven to glad his years, 
 
 And keep all gloom away ; 
 The gift of fertile wine and grain, 
 And riches for his bosom queen. 
 
 What asks the fair bride of her God 
 
 This sweet initial day ? 
 The constancy of him she loves — 
 
 Truth born not to decay ! 
 A life of sunshine — not of tears, 
 For his dear sake whose name she bears. 
 
 What ask they jointly of their God 
 
 This yet unclouded day ? 
 Long life, prosperity, and peace, 
 
 And grace God to obey : 
 The faith to suffer and be strong, 
 And to the grave go down in song. 
 
 What asks true friendship of its God 
 
 This glad, propitious day ? 
 God's blessing on this happy pair, 
 
 To make theirlives like May — 
 To fill their hearts with hope and joy, 
 And happiness without alloy l 
 
TENDER MELODIES. 99 
 
 HOME. 
 
 Far, far from my kindrad an exile I roam, 
 
 "Where the fields of the strang-er spread out in their bloom, 
 
 And my spirit laments for the land of my birth, 
 
 For there's no place like homo to be found on the Earth 1 
 
 Home, home, sweet, sweet home ! 
 A charm from tlie Skies seems to beautify home! 
 
 Though we possess all that this world can aftbrd, 
 And flatterers daily encircle oiir board. 
 The heart will look back with repining and gloom, 
 And heavily sigh for our far-away home! 
 
 I look to the West, and I know it must be 
 That my parent to-night is a-thinking on me ; 
 I know that yon evening star and yon moon. 
 Look down in their beauty on mother at home ! 
 
 I know tliat the breeze by that old cottage door, 
 Is breathing through vines that shall shade me no more; 
 I know that wild flowers are spreading their bloom, 
 Bespangled with dewdrops around my sweet home ! 
 
 But never again shall I wander and sing. 
 
 In those green-spreading fields with the song birds of spring ! 
 
 Or climb the brown hillside in Autumn time lone, 
 
 And gather wild grapes for my mother at home ! 
 
 Return, my fond heart, from that green, shady glen. 
 Return from that vale which I sigh for in vain ! 
 
100 TENDER MELODIES. 
 
 A dark, stormy ocean is writhing in foam, 
 Between a lone cliild, and her mother and home! 
 
 But why in my heart should this sorrow al)Ound ;' 
 The Christian has surely sweet prospects beyond : 
 Though lone wand'ring now yet I hope in my gloom. 
 To meet with all dear ones in Jesus' sweet home ! 
 
 Home, home, sweet, sweet home ! 
 '^llie joy of the Christian is Jesus' sweet home ! 
 
 IT IS SWEET TO BE REMEMBERED. 
 
 It is sweet to be remembered, 
 
 When the bloom of life has fled ; 
 When each day that dawns upon us, 
 
 May us number with the dead : 
 When our youth lies half forgotten, 
 
 In the dreamy far-oiF past ; 
 And our yearning spirits ponder 
 
 On the raptures of the Blest ! 
 
 It is sweet to be remembered, 
 
 By the hearts we loved of yore. 
 When our souls were filled with music, 
 
 As we trod life's dewy shore ; 
 W^lien our voices rose in rapture. 
 
 As we watched the bright rainbow. 
 Weaving chaf)let8 of wild flowers. 
 
 In the Mays of long ago ! 
 
TENDER MELODIES. 101 
 
 Oh, 'tis sweet to be remembered, 
 
 By the souls who shared our toil, 
 Wlien we crossed o'er life's meridian. 
 
 With our feet on burning soil. 
 It is sweet to be remembered. 
 
 With a thought of tender love, 
 With a faithful smile to cheer us, 
 
 Till our souls arrive above. 
 
 It is sweet to be remembered. 
 
 As the flow'rs remember Spring, 
 C'lieering up the earth so lonely, 
 
 Wooing fortli the birds to sing ! 
 It is sweet to be remembered. 
 
 In the holiness of truth, 
 With the rapture of devotion. 
 
 And the purity of youth ! 
 
 Sweeter still, yea, fonder, sweeter, 
 
 Is the thought that bids us feel, 
 That when all our toil is over, 
 
 When lone graves our forms conceal, 
 We shall long, long be remembered, 
 
 For the good works we have done : 
 And we bless our Great, High Master 
 
 For the glory and the crown ! 
 
 TO MOTHER IN HEAVEN. 
 
 O mother, sweet mother, give ear to me now. 
 Dear mother so tender and true ! 
 
102 TENDER MELODIES. 
 
 Behold the heart-sorrow that darkens my brow — 
 These tears ! — -I am weeping for jou ! 
 
 parent, you're dearer I feel to me now 
 Than you were in the sweet years of yore, 
 
 Ere you'd crossed the dark waves of the river of Death. 
 Or walked on Life's beautiful shore ! 
 
 For time only strengthens tlie sinews of love, 
 
 And grief only softens the heart ; 
 And to-day I am longing and sighing to be 
 
 Where the loving have need not to part ! 
 
 Like glad fertile isles in a lonely, grey sea. 
 Seem the years by your tenderness blest ; 
 
 And a shadow has ever hung dark o'er my life, 
 Since they laid you, dear mother, to rest ! 
 
 But I feel that the day is not far away now. 
 
 When I too shall be laid in the clay. 
 And my spirit arise to the door of the skies, 
 
 To dwell with you, mother, for aye ! 
 
 THE CROSS AMONG THE HEATHER. 
 
 Below the flower-dappled hill, 
 Among the green wild heather. 
 
 There stands a low cross I will love 
 Forever and forever ! 
 
TENDER MELODIES. 103 
 
 Some hearts may love the gleam of gold. 
 
 And others fame and glory, 
 But I love that cross pale and cold, 
 
 So sacred for its story. 
 
 Tlie aged may forget their youtli, 
 
 And dream of joys more tender, 
 But I shall ne'er forget in truth 
 
 My Mary to remember! 
 
 Ilei's was the purest, kindest heart 
 
 That ever learned to love me ; 
 Her fondness made my life so much 
 
 Like Paradise above me ! 
 
 And with the vines my heart is wrapp'd 
 
 Around that cross forever, 
 Below the flower-dappled hill. 
 
 Among the waving heather I 
 
 THE AMERICAN CENTEJ^NIAL HERALD SONG. 
 
 Hoist ye the banner np higher in heav'n, 
 Where by the lightning the storm-cloud is riv'n ; 
 There let its folds like a meteor flash, 
 Long as the waves of the ocean shall dash : 
 Bid the red lungs of the cannon declare. 
 How to our bosoms sweet freedom is dear ! 
 Strike the harsh cj^mbal, and roll the loud drum ; 
 Blow ye the trumpet, the jubilee's come! 
 
104 TENDER MELODIES. 
 
 Bl<yit:i ye the trumpet ! blo7V ye the trumpet ! 
 
 Beat the loud rfrnm ! 
 
 Dance in the valleys, and shout on the hills! 
 
 Blow ye the trumpet, the jubilee's eome ! 
 
 Give the o'lad news to the tar-flying sun, 
 Let him proclaim it to every land known ; 
 Spread the white sail, and away to the sea, 
 Bid our marines turn their helms a-lea ; 
 Tell them their hrothers are calling for them. 
 Pouring the red wine on hill-top, in glen, 
 Lea])ing and shouting! Oil, hid them come home! 
 Blow ye the trumpet, the jubilee's come! 
 
 Come with us now, O ye sweet smiling maids, 
 
 Come, we'll join hands where our fathers joined bladei 
 
 Wake ye the viol, and dulcet, and harp ; 
 
 Let every care from the bosom depart: 
 
 Wave ye the banner, and lead the proud dance. 
 
 Quicken your steps as the bold notes advance — 
 
 Freedom forever^ and union, and HOME! 
 
 Blow ye the trumpet, the jubilee 's come ! 
 
TENDER MELODIES. 
 
 THE SxiCEED SONGS. 
 
 THE LAMB m THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 I'd wander'd away from my Good Shepherd's fold, 
 Far off from the beautiful gates of clear gold ; 
 And out on a rocky steep, barren and high, 
 I'd pillow my head in the desert to die ! 
 
 'Twas night, and the darkest that ever I knew ; 
 A storm on the mountains, and mighty winds blew ; 
 And on every rude blast from Destruction's dark gulf 
 Came up the long howd of the blood-thirsty wolf 1 
 
 I long'd to be back with the "ninety and nine," 
 Asleep on the pallet which once had been mine ; 
 For hope had gone out, and despair had come in, 
 And I feared a dread death w^as the fruit of my siii. 
 
 But as I in terror for death waiting lay, 
 
 I heard a loud call 'mid the hills far away ; 
 
 'Twas the voice of my Shepherd, I knew the sweet tone. 
 
 And that He was searching for me the lost one. 
 
 I answered His call from tlie storm-beaten hill, 
 And soon He bent o'er me with kind, loving smile ; 
 14 105 
 
106 TENDER MELODIES. 
 
 But His garments were rent, and His tender hand? torn. 
 And blessed feet pierced with a many a thorn ! 
 
 But never complaing nor wiping the blood, 
 
 He bore a-back o'er a flood-beaten road ; 
 
 And He called all the while to the gates of pure gold, 
 
 "Rejoice, I have found the lost lamb of my fold !" 
 
 And the angels re-echoed around the white throne, 
 "Rejoice, for good Jesus bears homeward His own !" 
 But they knew not the thorns, nor the waters uncalm, 
 That the Shepherd passed through to reclaim His lost 
 lamb ! 
 
 OUR EVEmN"G HYMN. 
 
 Now sable night hath brought again. 
 
 The hour of man's retire ; 
 And in the far-otf heavens reign. 
 
 Ten thousand worlds of fire. 
 
 great and wondrous Monarch, Thou 
 AVhose name amazement is ! 
 
 Who framed the shining worlds below, 
 And Heaven's realms of bliss. 
 
 To Thee we humbly lift the tongue, 
 In heart-felt prayer and praise. 
 
 Still thankful for the mercy shown. 
 Which lengthens out our days. 
 
TENDER MELODIES. 107 
 
 l!^ow we retire, and should our eyes 
 
 Not hail the earthly dawn, 
 Far, far beyond may we arise, 
 
 In our eternal home ! 
 
 THE CHRISTlAi^ SAILOR\S JOY. 
 
 My ship is on the ocean, 
 
 The gale is fair and free, 
 I'm sailing, Port of Griory, 
 
 I'm sailing home to thee. 
 I know King Jesus longeth 
 
 To welcome me ashore, 
 And show me my possessions 
 
 In the sweet Forevermore. 
 
 Oh, blessed is King J esus ! 
 
 And blessed is His Word, 
 That promiseth the faithful 
 
 A dwelling with their Lord ! 
 Yea, blessed be King Jesus, 
 
 Whom angels bright adore, 
 Who giveth me possessions 
 
 In the sweet Forevermore ! 
 
 Oh ! happy is the sailor 
 Who sails in Jesus' name ; 
 
 Whose ship is on the ocean, 
 The Better Land to gain ! 
 
108 TENDER MELODIES. 
 
 Then bound, my vessel, onward 
 Toward the pearl-white shore, 
 
 For I have rich possessions 
 In the sweet Forevermore. 
 
 THE PENITENT'S PRAYER. 
 
 Lord, let Thy pard'ning grace this day 
 
 Gush like a river free ; 
 And wash the stains of sin away, 
 
 Till clean and pure I be. 
 
 Turn not away, nor close Thine ear 
 
 While I repentant cry ; 
 Show pity, my Saviour dear, 
 
 Or I forever die ! 
 
 Abandon'd at Thy feet, fond Lord, 
 
 I cast myself and weep, 
 My soul vStill clinging to Thy "Word, 
 
 With liope serene and sweet. 
 
 I know Thy blood to set me free 
 
 Once dyed Golgotha's sod. 
 That Thou wast crucified for me. 
 
 Thou blessed Lamb of Gt3d ! 
 
 Then take my lieart, I give it Thee, 
 
 Its native peace restore ; 
 Lord, though the gift should greater be, 
 
 I cannot give Thee more ! 
 
TENDER MELODIES. 109 
 
 THE GATES OF ZION. 
 
 The gates of Zion stand ajar, 
 
 Ob, praise ye the Lord in His glory ! 
 
 Go spread the joyful news afar, 
 
 Oh, praise ye the Lord in His glory ! 
 
 There is now shown to the Great Throne, 
 
 A beauteous path for ev'ry one, 
 
 Ob, praise ye the Lord in His glory ! 
 
 The gates of Zion stand ajar. 
 
 Oh, praise ye the Lord in His glory 1 
 
 Jesus has cleft the golden bar. 
 
 Oh, praise ye the Lord in His glory ! 
 
 And angels call from tow'r and wall, 
 
 "Return ye ransomed sinners all," 
 Oh, praise ye the Lord in His glory ! 
 
 The gates of Zion stand ajar. 
 
 Oh, praise ye the Lord in His glory ! 
 
 The Gospel is our guiding star, 
 
 Oh, praise ye the Lord in His glory ! 
 
 We'll fix our sight on its sweet light. 
 
 And travel to the Kingdom bright, 
 Ob, praise ye the Lord in His glory ! 
 
 The gates of Zion stand ajar, 
 
 Oh, praise ye the Lord in His glory ! 
 
 We're welcome where the Blest Ones are, 
 Oh, praise ye the Lord in His glory ! 
 
110 TENDER MELODIES. 
 
 Well may we sing, most joyf 'ly sing, 
 The mercy of our Great High King, 
 Oh, praise ye the Lord in His glory ! 
 
 THE SPIRIT'S CALL. 
 
 Come to the love-sweet Land of peace ; 
 Come where the sounds of wailing cease ; 
 Come where no dark clouds gloom the day : 
 Oh, come from the drear Earth away ! 
 
 Yea, come to thy immortal Home : 
 "Why in the desert longer roam ? 
 Come where Life's golden river flows, 
 And rapture mingles with repose ! 
 
 Come to the kingdom of the Blest ; 
 Come take in Ileav'n thy promised rest. 
 And wear the rare and radiant crown. 
 That in life's conflict thou hast won. 
 
 Thy aching heart long, long has bled ; 
 Thy burning tears have all been shed ! 
 Come meet in joy the loved of yore. 
 And walk in light forevermore ! 
 
 Come from the drear recluse of night 
 Into the full and perfect light : 
 Come to ihy sweet, divine abode : 
 Come, yearning spirit, to thy Cod ! 
 
TENDER MELODIES. 
 
 SABBATH REST. 
 
 Far clown tbe rosy halls of morn, 
 Fair Day shakes out her sunny hair : 
 
 A thousand flaming gems adorn 
 The landscape sweet and fair. 
 
 A holy quiet soothes the mind, 
 No sounds invade the listless ear, 
 
 Except the brook and early wind, 
 And wild bird singing clear. 
 
 This is the blessed Sabbath day 
 
 With all its peace and sweet repose, 
 
 In which the soul seems borne away 
 Where bliss enchanting flows ! 
 
 There's something in the soothing scene, 
 That fills and thrills the weary breast ; 
 
 A feeling that in thanks and love 
 May only be expressed ! 
 
 So let my grateful voice arise 
 
 In heart-felt anthems long and loud, 
 
 To Him who reigns beyond the skies. 
 And morning's gold-girt cloud. 
 
 Thanks unto Thee, my gracious Lord, 
 For this sweet time of love and rest, 
 
112 TENDER MELODIES. 
 
 Recorded in Thy Holy Word 
 A day that Thou hast l)lest. 
 
 And when this toilsome life is done. 
 And all its tumults lulled to peace. 
 
 Oh, may my days beyond the sun 
 Be all as sweet as this I 
 
 HALLELUIAH. 
 
 Jesus intercedes for men, 
 
 Halleluiah, Halleluiah ! 
 Jesus Who for us was slain, 
 
 Halleluiah, Halleluiah! 
 Let the song from pole to pole, 
 Loud as mighty thunders roll, 
 
 Glory, Grlory, Halleluiah ! 
 
 Halleluiah to the Lord ! 
 
 Jesus intercedes for men. 
 
 Halleluiah, Halleluiah ! 
 Yea, the blessed, holy Lamb, 
 
 Halleluiah, Halleluiah ! 
 Pleads for us both day and night, 
 While the love-tears blind His sight. 
 
 Glory, glory, Halleluiah, 
 
 Halleluiah to the Lord ! 
 
 Jesus intercedes for men, 
 Halleluiah, Halleluiah ! 
 
TENDER MELODIHS. 113 
 
 And the lost are found again, 
 
 Halleluiala, Halleluiah 1 
 Through Him we shall happy he, 
 Happy all eternity ! 
 
 Glory, Glory, Halleluiah, 
 
 Halleluiah to the_^Lord I 
 Let the song from pole to pole, 
 Loud as mighty thunders roll, 
 
 Glory, Glory, Halleluiah, 
 
 Halleluiah to the Lord ! 
 
 A HYMN OF GRATITUDE. 
 
 Oh, kind is the care 
 
 That the Lord doth hestow, 
 On His children who dwell 
 
 In this desert helow. 
 Like sheep that are fed 
 
 By a good shepherd's hand, 
 Our wants are supplied 
 
 In this drear, harren land. 
 
 And we thank Thee, Lord, 
 
 For Thy kindness this day. 
 And Thy goodness will praise 
 
 In a sweet song for aye ! 
 Though often we err, 
 
 Thou art quick to forgive ; 
 And died on the cross 
 
 That vile sinners might live ! 
 
 15 
 
114 TENDER MELODIES. 
 
 Oh, praised be the Lord, 
 
 On His throne in the sky, 
 Who a home hath prepared 
 
 For His children on high. 
 Yea, we thank Thee, Lord, 
 
 For Thy mercy this day, 
 And praise Thee we will 
 
 In a sweet song for aye I 
 
 THE RANSOMED SPIRIT'S ADIEU. 
 
 What, Oh ! what is this ? 
 Is it agony or bliss ? 
 Is it life, or is it death ? 
 How it cramps my feeble breath ! 
 Grently, ye angel hands, 
 Loosen nature's tender bands ! 
 See ! the lingering vital spark 
 How it trembles in the dark ! 
 Upward — -ah ! I see it flying — 
 Oh ! the joy ! the pangs of dying ! 
 
 This, oh, this is death 
 Slowly quafts my parting breath ! 
 Hark ! I hear my Saviour call, 
 Standing on the Jasper wall, 
 "(yome, parting spirit, come 
 To thy bright immortal home !" 
 Ah ! my soul is upward flying ! — 
 Sinking! — oh ! this ling'ring dying! 
 
TENDER MELODIES. 115 
 
 Now the work is done ! 
 Now the doors of Heaven are thrown 
 Open as I upward rise 
 Through the soft, delightful skies ! 
 A^ile and envious world adieu ! 
 Canst thou with thy pain pursue '{ 
 Ha ! thy dire torment is o'er : 
 Death and Hell are in the yore ! 
 Upward to the Blest Ones flying 
 I am ransomed now through dyino-! 
 
 THE AMERICAN CENTENNIAL HYMN. 
 
 Grod of our fathers, unto Thee 
 
 Tune we our grateful tongues in praise ; 
 Oh, hear the glad sons of the free, 
 
 kShout Glory to Thy sovereign grace: 
 In Love and Freedom we rejoice, 
 And raise to Thee a thankful voice. 
 
 In Thy great Name our fathers drew 
 
 The sacred sword of Liberty ; 
 And from Thy Heavens of starry blue 
 
 Fashioned the ensign of the free : 
 Now where it waves in native peace, 
 lieign Union, Love, and Happiness ! 
 
 Those fathers' graves are green to-day ; 
 Their noble s})irits, J^ord, with Thee 
 
11(3 TENDER MELODIES. 
 
 Are resting in their white array, 
 
 From toil to set their children tree, 
 For whom they drained their deepest vain, 
 And purchased Freedom with hlood-stains. 
 
 And while to Thee, dear God, we sing. 
 One blessing at Thy hand we crave ; 
 
 Be Thou for aye our only King, 
 
 And rule this fair land of the brave : 
 
 And in Thy awful pow'r would we 
 
 Ask Thee to set tlie whole world free, 
 
 That when another hundred years 
 Have mingled with eternity, 
 
 Each bondman may have dried his teai-s. 
 And caught the anthems of the free : 
 
 And as each sweet year rolls along. 
 
 Awake to Thee a nohler song ! 
 
 Be Thou our country's shield and stay. 
 Great God of love, forevermore ; 
 
 And ne'er in anger turn away 
 
 From this our lovely "sunset shore/' 
 
 Columbia, own thy Heavenly King, 
 
 And, Freedom, to His honor sing ! 
 
TKlNDER MELODIES. 
 
 THE SEC ULA R SONGS. 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 SUBJKCT. I'AOK. 
 
 The Isle of the Beautiful Star, ... 83 
 
 Lbiba : OR the Temples of Love, .... 84 
 
 Annie Nell, 86 
 
 Barbara Ellen, 87 
 
 Roanoke Side, 89 
 
 A SoN(i OF Long Ago, 90 
 
 My Dark-Eyed Shepherd, 91 
 
 LUDA (tLAINE, 92 
 
 I HAVE Dreamed You Love Me, . . . .94 
 
 Cassandra, 94 
 
 Sweet-Eyed Mary, 95 
 
 DaisteMay, .' . . . . . . • !^'> 
 
 Weddin(J-Dav Odm, '■'■'^ 
 
 Home : . . . ^>i> 
 
118 tender melodies contents, 
 
 subject. page. 
 
 It is Sweet to be Remembered, .... 100 
 
 To Mother in Heaven, lOi 
 
 The Cross among the Heather, .... 102 
 
 The American Centennial Herald Song, . . .103 
 
 tup: sacred songs. 
 
 The Lamb in the Wilderness, 105 
 
 Our Evening Hymn, 106 
 
 The Christian Sailor's Joy, 107 
 
 The Penitent's I'rayer, . . . ~ . . . 10!S 
 
 The Gates of Zion, 109 
 
 The Spirit's Call, 110 
 
 Sabbath Rest, Ill 
 
 Halleluiah, 112 
 
 A Hymn of Gratitude, . . . . . • 113 
 
 The Ransomed Spirit's Adieu, 114 
 
 The American Centennial Hymn, .... 115 
 
THE BOOK 
 
 PLEASANT LEGENDS, 
 
 THOUaHTFUL HOURS, 
 
 AND 
 
 tp:nder melodies, 
 
 SECUT.AR AND SACRED . 
 
 BEING 
 
 A COLLECTION OF CHOICE SELECTIONS 
 
 FROM THE WRITINGS OF 
 GEORGE WASHINGTON KETTOMAN. 
 
 ANNO DOMINI 1875. 
 
 (iKT'i'YSBURG : 
 
 I. K. WlBI.Fl I'RINTKR, CORNKR OK WASHINGI'ON AND NOHTH STRKKTS 
 
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