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PLEASANT WATER. 
 
 A SONG OF THE SEA AND SHORE. 
 
 BY / 
 
 JAMES DAVIS. 
 
 Let not Ambition mock their useful toil, 
 Their homely joys, and destiny obscure ; 
 
 Nor Grandeur hear with a disdainful smile 
 The short and simple annals of the poor. 
 
 Gray. 
 
 752 
 
 CAMBRIDGE: 
 
 PRINTED AT THE RIVERSIDE PRESS. 
 
 1877. 
 

 Copyright, 1S77. 
 By JAMES DAVIS. 
 
PROLOGUE. 
 
 The Summer to the Autumn yields, 
 The later scythe has swept the fields, 
 The swain, returning from the strath, 
 Brings home the gathered aftermath. 
 Have the slant sun and latter rain 
 With sweetness filled the harvest-wain ? 
 I know the green growth, as it bent 
 Before the mower's scythe, did scent 
 Of odors which the season lent ; 
 And if the fragrance has been lost. 
 The fault is his who raked and tossed, 
 With unskilled hand, the rowen sweet. 
 I cannot think that they who bind 
 The richer sheaves of golden wheat 
 That dewy breaths of Castaly 
 Have nursed and ripened fair, will find 
 Much for their pleasure in this store : 
 My largest hope can only be 
 
PROLOGUE. 
 
 (And less were mine if I sought more), 
 
 That some sweet nutriment that crept 
 
 Through secret sluices to the air, 
 
 Is garnered here, and may be kept, 
 
 On which some humble swains may fare, 
 
 And be refreshed, and find sweet dreams 
 
 Of sunny vales fair hills between. 
 
 With verdant slopes, and meadows green. 
 
 And warbling birds, and running streams. 
 
 And where the human life foregleams 
 
 Of life that lies beyond the seen. 
 
 And well it will my toil repay 
 
 If some late farers of the way — 
 
 The dear companions of my youth — 
 
 Shall of this simple store be fed. 
 
 And by the old-time flavor led 
 
 The reaper's trembling hand to know ; 
 
 And glad that thus his task has sped 
 
 To spread the feast of love and truth, 
 
 May lay some green bays where the snow 
 
 Is gathering on his drooping head. 
 
PLEASANT WATER. 
 
 I. 
 
 A HEAVY northeast gale has blown 
 In Ipswich Bay since yestermorn ; 
 This morn the long, white beach is strown 
 
 With dark, gray lines of seaweed, torn 
 By the rough billows from its bed, 
 
 And cast high up the shore, where now. 
 Left by the tide, it lies outspread, 
 Like dark hair on a snowy brow. 
 
 And on the bar at Pleasant Water 
 
 The waves like angry demons foam. 
 Or savage warriors, seeking slaughter, 
 
 They heave, they roll, they leap, they comb, 
 And madly on the sand-bar break, 
 
 That stretches seaward from the beach, — 
 A fair, white arm from fairer neck 
 
 The bride doth to her bridegroom reach. 
 
5 PLEASANT WATER. 
 
 From Lookout Hill a watcher's eye 
 
 Sweeps wistful round the bending shore, 
 If chance a wreck it may descry, 
 
 Then turns the offing to explore; — 
 A watcher by his sailor-heart 
 
 Kept sleepless through the dreary night, 
 And fain to act sweet Mercy's part. 
 
 Now come abroad in the first light. 
 
 O watcher! was the burden vain 
 
 That thou didst through the darkness bear, 
 With thoughts far off upon the main. 
 
 And spirit lifted up in prayer? 
 Nay, for thy travail hath allied 
 
 Thee, in thy human sympathy, 
 With love of the dear Crucified 
 
 That wrestled in Gethsemane. 
 
 For every pain or sacrifice 
 
 By man for man freely endured, 
 Becomes a part of the great price 
 
 By which at last shall be procured 
 From want and pain a full release ; 
 
 No tear-drop from a mourner's eye 
 But helps the treasure to increase 
 
 That shall the world's redemption buy. 
 
PLEASANT WATER. 7 
 
 Nor doth it matter to inquire 
 
 How drops can swell a boundless sea, 
 If endless height can be made higher, 
 
 Or finite aid infinity ; 
 Some way we know not, He who bears 
 
 The full weight of his children's woes, 
 The burden with all true souls shares. 
 
 And counts as gain Love's feeblest throes. 
 
 But linger not, my song, among 
 
 These pleasing, hopeful mysteries, 
 While noble deeds demand a tongue 
 
 To speak their surer prophecies ; 
 And Memory's low, sweet voices call 
 
 Thy waiting numbers to rehearse 
 What never might be sung at all. 
 
 But in this unpretending verse. 
 
 This morn the watcher on the height 
 
 Sees on the storm-beat shore no wreck. 
 But seaward, in the growing light, 
 
 Above the rolling waves, a speck 
 Of white appears, a tattered sail, 
 
 Where Muloch at the helm doth stand. 
 To steer before the lessening gale, 
 
 To reach the well-known port at hand. 
 
PLEASANT WATER. 
 
 All night his leaky ship lay to, 
 
 Close reefed, and stemmed the stormy sea. 
 The while, for their dear lives, the crew 
 
 Toiled at the pumps to keep her free ; 
 Toiling and wishing for the day 
 
 To show some friendly harbor near. 
 As they who once off Melita 
 
 Waited the dawning to appear. 
 
 Now Morn her heavy eyelid lifts, 
 
 As Sorrow's eye awakes from tears, 
 And leeward, where their frail bark drifts. 
 
 The welcome beacon-tower appears, 
 Like faithful sentry at his post ; 
 
 How leap their faint hearts at the sight ! 
 As lifts the storm-cloud from the coast. 
 
 Whose thick folds hid the signal light. 
 
 Now must we pause to bless the power 
 
 That, with a wise, parental care, 
 Hath built and lights this well-placed tower, 
 
 To show the storm-tossed sailor where 
 The entrance lies to sheltered seas ; 
 
 While all along her wave-washed line. 
 Nightly, by her benign decrees, 
 
 Like stars the numerous watch-fires shine. 
 
PLEASANT WATER. 9 
 
 Far out to sea they shine to show 
 
 Where danger lurks and refuge lies, 
 That as the proud ships come and go 
 
 From port to port, bearing supplies, 
 Their well-steered keels may safely glide 
 
 Clear of the rocks, and reefs that sleep. 
 Like might}' giants, in the tide, 
 
 To wreck the travelers of the deep. 
 
 And here on Wigwam Point at night, 
 
 For forty years, has Peter Day 
 Kept his high tower-lamp trimmed and bright 
 
 To light the voyagers on their way ; 
 And many a home-bound fisher's bark, 
 
 Steered by his never-setting star. 
 Has kept her true course through the dark, 
 
 And found safe passage o'er the bar. 
 
 From Cashes' ledge or Jeffrey's shoal, 
 
 Deep laden with a finny store, 
 Returning late to reach their goal, 
 
 Embosomed in the circling shore, 
 How oft their crews, with joyous gaze, 
 
 While shadows deepened on the strand, 
 Have caught his early-kindled rays, 
 
 And blessed his ever faithful hand. 
 
lO PLEASANT WATER. 
 
 With timber for the fishing smacks, 
 
 Loaded at Wells or Kennebunk, 
 'Gainst adverse winds, with frequent tacks, 
 
 Slow beating when the day had sunk, 
 Full oft the heavy coaster, bound 
 
 For Squam or old Chebacco's stream, 
 Ere morn her destined port has found. 
 
 Guided by his unfailing beam. 
 
 Through all these years, as the winged fleet 
 
 Of schooners by his light have sailed 
 To or from port, with a free sheet. 
 
 Or sheet close hauled, but few have failed 
 Their every passage to make good, 
 
 When guided by a master's art 
 Who the true courses understood, 
 
 As shown by Blunt in book and chart. 
 
 Loving his office more the while, 
 
 And gladdened by his gladdening beams, 
 His aged face now wears a smile, 
 
 As if it caught the cheerful gleams : 
 And sure it is, his nightly toil 
 
 To aid the seamen in their needs. 
 His old heart cheereth, as the oil 
 
 His hand supplies the tower-lamp feeds. 
 
PLEASANT WATER. \\ 
 
 For every helpful ministry 
 
 That goeth forth at Love's behest, 
 Returns full laden, like the bee. 
 
 With gathered sweetness to the breast; 
 And wisely 't is the Heavenly will 
 
 That eyes serene should ever trace 
 Our inward state of good or ill 
 
 By lights and shadows on the face. 
 
 II. 
 
 Must now unwilling Fancy leave 
 
 Her pleasing pictures for the task, 
 The short, sad tale of woe to weave 
 
 For the impatient eyes that ask 
 What fate that bark may overtake? 
 
 Or on her light wings, spread for flight, 
 Her long delayed excursion make 
 
 To other scenes of dear delight.'' 
 
 Be rough wave smooth and tempest still, 
 Nor cloud obscure the Sun's bright sheen, 
 
 While from the top of Sunset Hill 
 We landward look upon the scene 
 
12 PLEASANT WATER. 
 
 That lies outspread in loveliness, 
 
 Where shore and sea, in sweet embrace, 
 
 Dual completeness well express, 
 In perfect charm of wedded grace. 
 
 As if some mighty hand outspread, 
 
 And laid upon this yielding shore, 
 Had formed the forked river-bed. 
 
 With wide distended fingers four, 
 Disparting here the waters flow 
 
 Divergent, filling four fair coves. 
 Till grassy nooks and runnels know 
 
 The soft caresses of their loves. 
 
 'T is now the spring-tide, when the Moon 
 
 And Sun their flying coursers join, 
 And riding high, an hour past noon, 
 
 Their strong attractive powers combine 
 To woo the waiting Earth, whose breast, 
 
 Responsive to her lovers twain, 
 Swells high, the witching power confessed, 
 
 And a full flood fills every vein. 
 
 Six hours the swift, incoming tide 
 
 Has through the narrow channels swept. 
 
PLEASANT WATER. 13 
 
 Spreading o'er flats and marshes wide, 
 And up the shelving shores has crept, 
 
 O'erflowing meadows 'mid the hills 
 Unwonted to its soft embrace, 
 
 Hasting to meet the laughing rills 
 At many a new-found trysting place : 
 
 Till reaching now its highest bound, 
 
 A broad, smooth, silvery sheet is seen. 
 Lapping the rocky islets round, 
 
 Kissing the sloping banks of green ; 
 While beach, and ledge, and lawn, and wood, 
 
 O'er which the fair-browed hills appear, 
 Edge round and bind the glassy flood. 
 
 Fit setting for its mirror clear. 
 
 Soft zephyrs that with light feet danced 
 
 At morn upon the rippling brine. 
 Retiring as the day advanced, 
 
 Now in the whispering groves recline : 
 The full flood lies at perfect rest 
 
 To wait its ebbing, and the air 
 Sleeps like a bride upon its breast. 
 
 Calm as the sleep of wedded pair. 
 
14 PLEASANT WATER. 
 
 So Still is all around and sweet, 
 
 'T is as if Nature, artist true. 
 Her peerless picture now complete, 
 
 Did pause to hold it to our view : 
 So might a famous master rest 
 
 When first displayed to public sight 
 Some work his masterpiece confessed, 
 
 And leave it to the world's delight. 
 
 Pleased amateurs, awhile we dwell 
 
 On the full, rounded, perfect whole, 
 Then of some finer features tell 
 
 That touch with nicer sense the soul ; 
 But doubting whether more to praises, 
 
 Where light and shade so perfect show. 
 What the original displays. 
 
 Or copy in the wave below. 
 
 See where that fishing smack so fine, 
 
 With slackened hawser, moveless lies. 
 Close joining at the water line 
 
 Her image in the mirrored skies 
 Inverted ; but withal so fair. 
 
 And like its prototj^pe above. 
 Almost we dream it made to bear 
 
 The sea-nymphs to their bowers of love. 
 
PLEASANT WATER. 1 5 
 
 Just to the left see where the mill 
 
 Upon the Norwood causeway stands, 
 The high tide reaching near the sill, 
 
 Where in the door the boatman lands ; 
 All mirrored in the crystal flood, 
 
 But with such softened light and grace, 
 We feel a half-formed wish we could 
 
 Be dwellers in the fairy place. 
 
 Along the western margin stand 
 
 The white sand-hillocks in a row ; 
 Appearing like a ghostly band 
 
 Uprisen from the depths below ; 
 And there the waiting "lemmedure"^ 
 
 Stands gazing towards the village shore. 
 Till the bright silver fee shall lure 
 
 Some youngster quick to ply the oar. 
 
 Upon a rock's uplifted peak 
 
 Sits a kingfisher, peering wide 
 And keen his finny prey to seek 
 
 Near the smooth surface of the tide : 
 And on a ledge out towards the bay, 
 
 A fair mark for the sportsman's gun 
 From ambush aimed not far away, 
 
 A seal is basking in the sun. 
 
1 6 PLEASANT WATER. 
 
 Observe the pleasing contrast shown, 
 
 Where on our right those dark-green hills 
 Set off those others overblown 
 
 With white sand from the beach, that fills 
 The intervales, and overtops 
 
 The highest points, snow-white : 't is said 
 The hand of folly, that ne'er stops 
 
 To count the cost, this picture spread.*^ 
 
 Skirted around their sand-girt bases 
 
 With a thick growth of hardy pines, 
 Shielding them from the fierce embraces 
 
 Of the marauding northern winds, 
 These hills were once with verdure clad, 
 
 Where farmer Coffin's herds did graze. 
 While in the intervales he had 
 
 Broad, fruitful fields of golden maize. 
 
 Till moved by blinding thirst for gain, 
 
 That getteth more than it intends. 
 And finds its profits turn to pain, 
 
 He raised the axe against his friends, 
 And smote the guardians of his lands ; 
 
 Since which the barbarous, boreal blast, 
 Uplifting oft the dry beach-sands. 
 
 Has round these hills its burden cast : 
 
PLEASANT WATER. If 
 
 Weaving a winding-sheet o'er all 
 
 The buried life of future crops, 
 White-mantled, as with snowy pall 
 
 That on the wintry landscape drops ; 
 But not with the same promise fraught 
 
 Of fresher life from snow-clad fields, — 
 This shroud the drifting sands have wrought 
 
 No hope of resurrection yields. 
 
 Of this no more : the loss accrues 
 
 To farmer Coffin and his heirs; 
 The gain is to the eye that views 
 
 The fair drawn picture : so it fares 
 In this strange world, that beauty, power, 
 
 Perfection, and all growth that shoots 
 With promise of a ripening hour, 
 
 In loss, decay, and death have roots. 
 
 Now turning eastward we behold 
 
 Mount Adnah, dwelling of the dead, 
 And farther east. Mount Dawn, fair rolled, I 
 
 Above the pines uplifts its headj 
 Then, sloping gently southward, meets 
 
 High Lawn, green-spread, and then descends 
 Where Pleasant Point so sweetly greets 
 
 The tide that round its fair shore bends. 
 
PLEASANT WATER. 19 
 
 Could fairy lake or winding river, 
 
 Whose waters never felt the beat 
 Of Ocean's throbbing pulses, ever 
 
 Present the eye a scene more sweet 
 Than here enchains the captive sense ? 
 
 Or wildly dashing torrents show 
 Such varying charms to recompense 
 
 For this delightful ebb and flow? 
 
 If when the ebbing tide went out, 
 
 And marsh and flats lay wet and bare, 
 Our faltering faith ebbed to a doubt. 
 
 The high flood doth the loss repair 
 With a sweet sense of fullness, fraught 
 
 With hope whence highest pleasures rise, 
 So fully doth the inward thought 
 
 With outward nature sympathize. 
 
 What time the Sun with lifted veil 
 
 Looks from his mid-day height serene, 
 Sometimes, beyond fair Riverdale, 
 
 The reflex of his smile is seen, 
 Where, tossed beneath the southern sky, 
 
 The waters past the distant shore 
 All glowing in his bright beams lie, 
 
 And seem a sea of shining ore: 
 
20 PLEASANT WATER. 
 
 While o'er the fair wave at our feet, 
 
 Like a bright path across the tide, 
 A golden line goes forth to meet 
 
 The far-off radiance there descried; 
 Much seems it like the heavenly path 
 
 That mortal footsteps doth invite, 
 Which, ever brightening onward, hath 
 
 Its ending in the eternal light. 
 
 And the low vale that lies between 
 
 And interrupts these glowing tides, 
 Seems like to that which the terrene 
 
 From the celestial light divides : 
 But not the vale, nor the dark pall 
 
 Receives less radiance from the skies, 
 Only the lights that on them fall 
 
 Are not reflected to our eyes. 
 
 For so it wisely is designed 
 
 That this bright, beauteous realm we see 
 Should often image to the mind 
 
 The life that is and is to be: 
 And thus we reach the highest use 
 
 Of Nature to our spirits' needs. 
 When from the seen to the abstruse 
 
 By clear analogies she leads. 
 
PLEASANT WATER. 21 
 
 ni. 
 
 With warm words did Gelanus tell 
 
 The rapture of his tender thought, 
 When, forced for years abroad to dwell. 
 
 Again these pleasing haunts he sought \ 
 Gelanus, 'mid these fair scenes reared. 
 
 Whose forms of beauty, as he grew, 
 Grew in his soul till they appeared 
 
 Linked with each pleasure that he knew. 
 
 So that each tale he heard or read, 
 Each song that on his rapt ear stole, 
 
 Each vision that his fancy fed, 
 
 And all high thoughts that moved his soul 
 
 Somehow seemed 'mid these scenes to rest, 
 As imaged in his faithful mind, 
 
 Sure as a mother-bird- her nest, 
 
 » Returned from distant flight, will find. 
 
 Thus roaming far 'neath foreign skies. 
 In some true sense at home he dwelt ; 
 
 But when these dear forms met his eyes 
 Once more, the strange, sweet joys he felt 
 
 Melted his tender soul to tears, 
 And all the latent memories woke 
 
22 PLEASANT WATER. 
 
 Of youthful sports and ripening years, 
 Amid these hills, and thus he spoke : 
 
 " Ye high-crowned hills, and low green vales, 
 
 Ye towering rocks, and white shore-sands, 
 Bright waters bearing snowy sails, 
 
 Sweet brooks that flow through meadow lands, 
 Deep glens where grew the berries wild. 
 
 Dear walks my early footsteps knew ! 
 Have ye no welcome for the child 
 
 That with such love returns to you ? 
 
 " Ye have : sweet greetings come to me 
 
 From murmuring brook and whispering breeze. 
 From rippling wave and humming bee. 
 
 From warbling throats amid the trees, — 
 The minstrelsy that Nature brings 
 
 To every open heart and ear ; ♦ 
 I deem that here she sweetest sings. 
 
 Or else with finer sense I hear. 
 
 " And much it seems that while my feet 
 Travel anew these olden ways, 
 Each well-known object that I meet 
 With answering smiles my glance repays ; 
 
PLEASANT WATER. 23 
 
 And chiefly do the living things 
 
 Attend, as if right glad to see 
 One who the seal of Nature brings 
 
 The lord of her domain to be. 
 
 "The robins flit from knoll to knoll 
 
 Around, as if to court my eye, 
 The squirrel comes forth from his hole 
 
 In the old tree, no longer shy, 
 The gentle kine omit to graze. 
 
 And low a welcome to their friend. 
 The horse his salutation neighs. 
 
 And insect swarms my steps attend. 
 
 "For since I 've learned with humble mind 
 
 To lean on Nature's gentle breast, 
 I fellowship with all things find, 
 
 And enter as a welcome guest 
 To every feast her bounty gives ; 
 
 Discourse with things inanimate 
 Can hold, and with each thing that lives 
 
 The common joys participate. 
 
 " Nor should it be accounted strange 
 That Fancy, on such joyous wing, 
 
24 PLEASANT WATER. 
 
 Through these familiar fields should range, 
 And long neglected pictures bring 
 
 Her air}^ chambers to illume ; 
 
 Nor much the partial fondness blame ' 
 
 If for her old haunts she presume 
 An unsurpassed delight to claim. 
 
 " It is her birthright : fairer skies 
 
 That bend around Italian shores, 
 Bright scenes where Alpine mounts arise, 
 
 The mighty flood Niagara pours, 
 Thy wondrous cliffs, Yosemite, 
 
 And all that traveled poets sing, 
 If it might be her joy to see, 
 
 Not long could stay her homeward wing. 
 
 " Ah me ! scarce dearer she whose breast 
 
 Pillowed and nourished me at birth 
 Than this loved spot where first I pressed, 
 
 With naked feet, the warm, new earth, 
 When the bright sky around me bent, 
 
 And this fair world sprang to my view, 
 As fresh as the pure nutriment 
 
 Which from my mother's breast I drew. 
 
PLEASANT WATER. 2$ 
 
 "And if at last it might be given, 
 
 When close my eyes on scenes so fair, 
 To find their counterpart in heaven, 
 
 With all the bloom and freshness there, 
 And all decay and death left out, 
 
 I would not ask a better shore 
 On which, above all pain and doubt, 
 
 To live and love for evermore. 
 
 " But this perhaps may be denied. 
 
 And rather may we hope to find 
 The realms where perfect souls abide 
 
 As perfect as the perfect mind ; 
 But never shall my heart forget, 
 
 Whate'er bright mansions are my own. 
 The dear delights before me set 
 
 Where God's sweet day first on me shone." 
 
 So spake Gelanus : but he knew 
 
 His words, though warm, but half expressed 
 The sense of keen delight that grew 
 
 From the deep root within his breast : 
 And e'en to him the quaint old name 
 
 Of the dear place a pleasure brought, 
 Wherever heard ; and whence it came, 
 
 And what its meaning, much he sought i 
 
26 PLEASANT WATER. 
 
 And found at last; or so he claimed; 
 
 For he in Indian lore was read, 
 And knew how well their haunts they named : 
 
 "When first the Algonquin came," he said, 
 "From Mushaiiwomuck, or Agawam, 
 
 Or Naumkeag, chance, to this fair quarter. 
 Well pleased, he named Wonne Squam, 
 
 Which in his tongue means Pleasant Water."* 
 
 And pleasant must have been this tide 
 
 To them whose language gave the name. 
 Who in their birch canoes did glide 
 
 Upon it, ere the white man came. 
 With squaw and wee papoose at play. 
 
 Or hunting seal in cove or creek. 
 Or making it a smooth highway 
 
 From Agawam to Wingaersheek. 
 
 And since full many a voyager, 
 
 Returned from cruising on the main, 
 The sweetest joy of mariner 
 
 Has felt this dear home-port to gain : 
 And bashful youth with maiden coy. 
 
 By moonlight on this wave afloat. 
 Has found a tongue to dare the joy 
 
 Of whispering love's first trembling note. 
 
PLEASANT WATER. 2/ 
 
 For Love the old, sweet tale can tell, 
 
 Smooth sailing on a moonlit sea, 
 As well as in a sunny dell. 
 
 Reclining 'neath his favorite tree : 
 And happier they who find their own 
 
 While life is fresh, and warm hearts move, 
 Than they who wait till older grown, 
 
 To find more pelf, but less of love. 
 
 'T was thus that fifty years ago 
 
 Here Vidas found his loving mate. 
 And all their friends and neighbors know 
 
 How sweetly linked has been their fate : 
 You see their cottage by the brook, 
 
 Beside the gnarled old apple-tree. 
 Whose strongly wedded branches look 
 
 An emblem of their constancy. 
 
 Like two contiguous vines upsprung 
 
 From earth together, and entwined. 
 Their hearts have to each other clung, 
 
 And mind has intergrown with mind. 
 Still clasping closer year by year, 
 
 Twining aloft in shade and sun. 
 Till like one growth they now appear. 
 
 In leaf, and flower, and fruitage one. 
 
28 PLEASANT WATER. 
 
 Last night their golden wedding was, 
 
 And generous friends the house did throng, 
 And when the feast and mirth found pause. 
 
 He sang his happy bride this song ; 
 While old INIark, who with violin, 
 
 The while the mazy dance went round. 
 With merry notes made light feet spin, 
 
 Attuned his string to softer sound : 
 
 WEDDED. 
 
 " Full fifty years, my dearest Jean, 
 
 Our hearts have beat as one. 
 Full fifty years our blended lives 
 
 As one smooth stream have run: 
 Thy own, soft, folded wing, these years. 
 
 Has nestled close to mine. 
 And thou shalt say if mine has sought 
 
 To soar away from thine. 
 
 " In life's young spring, in this calm vale,. 
 
 We made our snug, warm nest, 
 And we have always thought and felt 
 
 It was the sweetest, best; 
 And had we roamed on restless wings 
 
 A lovelier place to find, 
 
PLEASANT WATER. 29 
 
 We had not found a spot on earth 
 More suited to our mind. 
 
 "When birdlings dear came to our nest 
 
 They added tie to tie ; 
 And heart clung closer still to heart 
 
 When some did fledge and fly ; 
 For those that flew and these that stay 
 
 Seem in themselves to bear 
 Our very hearts, full linked in one, 
 
 Forever, here and there. 
 
 " For the dear younglings to provide 
 
 Has been a hard, sweet care. 
 But hard or sweet, it sweeter was 
 
 That each the task did share ; 
 And by our mutual cares and toils 
 
 To bless and keep our own, 
 Our lives, in all their hopes and aims, 
 
 More truly one have grown. 
 
 " The fresh, warm gush of tenderness 
 When first our young hearts met, 
 And each the other knew its mate, 
 We well remember yet ; 
 
30 PLEASANT WATER. 
 
 But dearer is the ripened love 
 
 Sweetened and sanctified 
 By years of helpfulness, and hope, 
 
 And suffering side by side. 
 
 " Ere long our season here will end, 
 
 And we on new-fledged wings 
 Will soar away to that bright clime 
 
 Where endless Summer springs ; 
 And there beneath a fairer sky 
 
 We '11 find a dearer nest, 
 Where all our darling birdlings shall 
 
 At last come home to rest." 
 
 IV. 
 
 Lapped in a soothing summer dream, 
 
 A bard with pipe of silvery sound, 
 One day adrift upon this stream, 
 
 A soft breath for his sweet reed found : 
 Had he these dear haunts better known, 
 
 Like him who seeks their praise to sing, 
 And sung of them in his sweet tone, 
 
 This Muse might choose to fold her wing. 
 
PLEASANT WATER. 31 
 
 'T is vainly said : there is no choice 
 
 To him whose waking fancies move 
 To music, but to give them voice, 
 
 Though oft the faltering numbers prove 
 Faint echoes of the strain within. 
 
 The soul-song, never quite expressed 
 To outward sense, when Art to win 
 
 Its language has essayed her best. 
 
 And she who sits the regnant queen 
 
 Of hill, and dale, and field, and flood, 
 Will deign to let her charms be seen 
 
 By him who long her grace has wooed; 
 And oft the humblest worshiper 
 
 Of all who at her altar bend 
 May choose for an interpreter. 
 
 When some new message she would send. 
 
 And happy he who thus elect 
 
 Some long-locked sweetness to disclose, 
 Shall know all false forms to reject, 
 
 And in fair, fitting phrase dispose 
 The sense she whispers to his heart ; 
 
 Instructed by the patient Muse 
 To embellish nature with true art, 
 
 Nor much the first, fresh flavor lose. 
 
32 PLEASANT WATER. 
 
 V. 
 
 'T is to the fishers a delight 
 
 When in this stream their gallant ships 
 Lie moored, with flags and streamers dight, 
 
 All fitted for their fishing trips, 
 On the midsummer holiday, 
 
 Waiting the Earth to make her round, 
 To spread their sails and steer away 
 
 To seas where finny stores abound. 
 
 Well trimmed and furnished fore and aft, 
 
 With hold well stowed, and lockers stored, 
 How proudly rides that noble craft. 
 
 Till her brave crew shall come on board ; 
 Who near the shore, with oars apoise. 
 
 Are waiting in the Moses-boat, 
 Attracted by the stir and noise 
 
 Of putting a new smack afloat. 
 
 The builder of a hundred ships, — 
 
 Not large, but graceful, fleet, and stanch, — 
 
 The brave and faithful Captain Epps 
 The hundredth one to-day doth launch. 
 
 And well the master pride may feel ' 
 So soon his finished work to greet, — 
 
PLEASANT WATER. 33 
 
 Four weeks ago he laid her keel, 
 
 Now on the stocks she stands complete. 
 
 With oak frames from the Merrimack, 
 
 Oak planks from the Piscataqua, 
 Knees of the hardy hackmatack, 
 
 Brought from far-off Acadia, 
 And planks of white-pine for the deck. 
 
 From logs that in Ogunquit grew. 
 Or chance beside the Kennebeck, 
 
 All moulded by the master true, 
 
 While axe, and adze, and hammer swung 
 
 From rise of sun till daylight's close. 
 With bends in line of beauty hung. 
 
 The fair proportioned hull arose ; 
 And finished now in every part, 
 
 From stem to stern, from keel to rail, 
 And beautified by painter's art. 
 
 Impatient seems for mast and sail. 
 
 And well they haste ; the season hastes, 
 When all these northern shores along, 
 
 Swarming from the far ocean wastes. 
 Gathered in shoals innumerous, throng 
 
34 PLEASANT WATER. 
 
 The fairest tenants of the deep 
 
 That in New England's seas appear; 
 
 And they who would the harvest reap 
 Must ready be with boat and gear. 
 
 And now 't is Freedom's hallowed day, 
 
 And busy hands since early light 
 Have worked the launching ways to lay, 
 
 Before the tide should reach its height, 
 Because the master had declared 
 
 Her name should *' Independence " be, 
 If by good fortune it so fared 
 
 That she this day should reach the sea. 
 
 Their work complete, on either side. 
 
 Slopes down a narrow, slippery plane. 
 And down these tallowy paths to slide, 
 
 While they the heavy hull sustain. 
 The bilge-ways lie in place, with rows 
 
 Of wedges waiting to be driven 
 By ready hands, with rapid blows 
 
 Of topmauls, when the word is given. 
 
 The villagers, from far and near, 
 Gather around the launch to view, 
 
PLEASANT WATER. 35 
 
 High raised o'er bows and stern appear 
 The streaming Stripes and starry Blue, 
 
 While on her bows stands Captain Jack 
 (This time the master hides his blame), 
 
 Swinging a bottle of Cognac, 
 At the right time to give her name. 
 
 And now we see the master stand 
 
 Watching the tide-wave upward creep; 
 Anon he turns and waves his hand, 
 
 When suddenly the hammers leap 
 Like living things beneath her floors, 
 
 And loud, resounding blows are heard, 
 Driving the wedges, till the shores 
 
 And blocks are loosened, when the word 
 
 Is given to hold, and quickly blocks, 
 
 And spurs, and shores are cleared away : 
 Then, at a word, a deft blow knocks 
 
 From either side the holding stay. 
 She's free ! Stand clear ! She starts, she creeps, 
 
 She moves, she speeds, adown she glides, 
 And from the wharf-side grandly leaps, 
 
 And proudly on the bright wave rides ! 
 
36 PLEASANT WATER. 
 
 But as she from the capson shps 
 
 Seems poised a moment on the brink, 
 Then, plunging heavily, she dips 
 
 Her stern deep in the wave, till pink 
 And hawse-piece meet the parting tide, 
 
 And on her deck the water flows : 
 And as her forefoot clears the slide. 
 
 And sweeping down her bowsprit goes. 
 
 Firm at his post stands Captain Jack 
 
 And thrice in air the bottle swings 
 Above his head, then, with a thwack, 
 
 Adown the bottle deftly flings. 
 Dashing the knight-heads, and shouts he, 
 
 " The Independence is her name ! " — 
 " The Independence it shall be," 
 
 With one voice all the men proclaim. 
 
 And as out in the stream she veers, 
 
 And, rounding to, her fair side shows, 
 The gathered throng hail her with cheers, 
 
 A brisker breeze the west wind blows, 
 The starry banners proudly wave ; 
 
 And they who on her light deck ride 
 Her sides in the bright waters lave, 
 
 By rushing all from side to side. 
 
 1 
 
PLEASANT WATER. 37 
 
 Thus well they keep the hallowed time ; 
 
 Thus freemen, by the names they give, 
 Compel the nation's hour of prime 
 
 In fadeless memory to live ; 
 The stern resolve, the tireless thought, 
 
 The years of strife, the deeds of fame, 
 The blood by which her life was bought, 
 
 Made present in a sacred name. 
 
 Nor need the nation fear to fail 
 
 While her brave sons ever delight, 
 On land or sea, to toil, or sail. 
 
 Or battle with her flag in sight ; 
 Joying their works, their scenes of sport, 
 
 Their fetes of triumph and renown, — 
 The ship that leaves or finds her port 
 
 With the bright, starry flag to crown. 
 
 And in this symbol may she be 
 
 A mighty presence everywiiere, 
 In every land, on every sea. 
 
 Holding her children in her care ; 
 That henceforth every power malign 
 
 That would her virtuous sons oppress, 
 Reading a warning in this sign. 
 
 Her sovereign segis may confess^ 
 
38 PLEASANT WATER. 
 
 Bright banner ! when we read aright 
 
 What means thy glowing trinity 
 Of starry blue, and red, and white, 
 
 Linked with the thought of unity, 
 There seems expressed a higher sense 
 
 Of Grace, and Truth, and Loyalty ; 
 Nor will they deem this a pretense 
 
 Who read thy mystic signs with me. 
 
 Thy Red bespeaks the blood that burned, 
 
 A loyal flame in freemen's veins, 
 And leaped through dauntless hearts that 
 spurned. 
 
 In fame's high hour, a tyrant's chains ; 
 That reddened many a glorious field 
 
 Where Freedom's hosts her triumphs won ; 
 And waiteth still to be revealed 
 
 Whene'er her service may be done. 
 
 Thy White doth symbolize the truth 
 
 For whose defense the fathers bled ; 
 The living spring from which in youth 
 
 The nation's growing life was fed ; 
 The great Evangel heard afar, 
 
 By Heaven inspired seers proclaimed, 
 That men by nature equal are, 
 
 And states must on this law be framed. 
 
 I 
 
PLEASANT WATER. 39 
 
 Thy starry Blue doth represent 
 
 The ever gracious Providence — 
 The heaven of love around us bent, 
 
 Which was the fathers' sure defense, 
 And still the nation's shield shall be. 
 
 If she the works of righteousness 
 Perform in love and verity. 
 
 And all her ancient faith confess. 
 
 Float on ! Float on ! O symbol fair 
 
 Of Union, Grace, Truth, Loyalty ! 
 And on thy bright escutcheon bear 
 
 The nation's seal of royalty : 
 Float on undimmed o'er land and main, 
 
 A prophecy of that glad time 
 When Truth advancing shall unchain 
 
 The men of every race and clime. 
 
 VI. 
 
 No smarter skipper trims his sails 
 
 Than Captain Griffin ; heart and hand 
 
 A fisher bred, he seldom fails 
 To bring a finny freight to land. 
 
 Whether of cod from the Shoal Ground, 
 The distant banks, or Labrador, 
 
40 PLEASANT WATER. 
 
 Or mackerel, in their season found 
 
 From Cape May to the Canadian shore. 
 
 Little he cares for holidays, 
 
 Or mingles in the merry sport ; 
 And ill he brooks any delays 
 
 That keep his ready craft in port : 
 'Twas he that in the Moses-boat, 
 
 In stern-sheets seated, with his men, 
 Waited to see the smack afloat 
 
 Ere getting under way again. 
 
 For though no words could make him stay, 
 
 As all the other fishers do. 
 To keep the nation's holiday. 
 
 And see the merry-making through, 
 So much a smack is his delight, 
 
 He willingly the minutes gave 
 To see the launch, and get a sight 
 
 Of this new craft upon the wave. 
 
 That done, he bids his men make speed 
 To where the schooner Leader rides 
 
 At anchor, like a restless steed 
 That ill the bit and rein abides. 
 
PLEASANT WATER. 41 
 
 The gallant smack that we saw lying, 
 
 With hold well stowed, and lockers stored, 
 
 The Stars and Stripes above her flying, 
 Waiting her crew to come on board. 
 
 Now all aboard, they quickly man 
 
 The windlass, and the anchor heave, — 
 Heave with good will, as sailors can. 
 
 Though loath the dear home-port to leave ; 
 And as they quick the handspikes ply, 
 
 The manly voice of Jack Tarr rings ; 
 They keep time with his measured cry. 
 
 And this is the brave song he sings : 
 
 HEAVE O. 
 
 " Heave O ! Heave O ! 
 Heave up the anchor, set the sail ! 
 The west wind blows a fair, fresh gale \ 
 While skies are bright and breezes blow, 
 Out on the billowy deep we go. 
 
 Heave O ! Heave O ! 
 All hands ! all hands ! No shirks below ! 
 Faint hearts, my lads, will never do, 
 We '11 sail away a merry crew : 
 Heave O ! Heave O ! 
 
42 PLEASANT WATER. 
 
 Out on the billowy deep we go. 
 Heave O, ye O, Ho ! 
 
 " Heave O ! Heave O ! 
 Heave up the anchor, — lively, men ! 
 We '11 try our luck at sea again ; 
 What fortune waits we may not know, 
 But hopeful on the deep we go. 
 
 Heave O ! Heave O ! 
 One thought on those we leave bestow ; 
 But be our farewells quickly said, 
 While to the breeze our sails we spread. 
 
 Heave O ! Heave O ! 
 Out on the billowy deep we go. 
 
 Heave O , ye O, Ho ! 
 
 " Heave O ! Heave O ! 
 Now swiftly flies the windlass round, 
 Clap, clap, clap, clap, clap, clap ! the sound 
 Of dancing pawl bestirs us so. 
 When ready on the deep to go ! 
 
 Heave O ! Heave O ! 
 What if the eye a tear may show ? 
 A sailor's heart may tender be, 
 And love will sail upon the sea. 
 
 Heave O ! Heave O ! 
 
PLEASANT WATER. 43 
 
 Out on the billowy deep we go. 
 Heave O, j^e O, Ho ! 
 
 '' Heave O ! Heave O ! 
 There's not afloat a fleeter smack; 
 She '11 clear the point without a tack, 
 And pass the dull craft sailing slow, 
 While bounding o'er the waves we go. 
 
 Heave O ! Heave O ! 
 With swelling sails and sheets aflow, 
 We '11 speed away, and never stop 
 Till on the banks our flukes we drop. 
 
 Heave O ! Heave O ! 
 Out on the billowy deep we go. 
 
 Heave O, ye O, Ho! 
 
 " Heave O ! Heave O ! 
 Heave up the anchor, set the sail ! 
 We know the Power that rules the gale 
 When skies are dark and tempests blow. 
 And fearless on the deep we go. 
 
 Heave O ! Heave O ! 
 If sinks our bark the waves below, 
 We still will trust, as brave hearts do, 
 That unseen hands will save the crew. 
 
 Heave O ! Heave O ! 
 
44 PLEASANT WATER. 
 
 Out on the billowy deep we go. 
 Heave O, ye O, Ho ! " 
 
 With one strong heave the flukes break ground, 
 
 Her sails fill with the freshening breeze ; 
 Away she bounds like hunter's hound, 
 
 When he afar the quarry sees ; 
 Careening to the blast she goes, 
 
 Each side the parting waters break, 
 A white comb at her bows she shows, 
 
 Swift whirl the eddies in her wake. 
 
 How like a thing of life she seems ! 
 
 How proudly bears, as if she knew 
 What flag so brightly o'er her streams, 
 
 What noble men compose her crew : 
 She seems to pledge herself to keep 
 
 Those who upon her strength rely, 
 Through all the perils of the deep. 
 
 While they their hooks and lines shall ply. 
 
 Sail forth, O fair ship, fleet and strong ! 
 
 Sail bravely forth, ye gallant men ! 
 Heaven grant that with full freight, ere long, 
 
 Ye may return to port again: 
 
PLEASANT WATER. 45 
 
 And they who dwell upon the shore 
 Shall own your ways of toil are good, 
 
 While thus ye reap a grateful store 
 From Ocean's fields of healthful food. 
 
 Nor void of pleasure is your task, 
 
 As keen as any know afloat, 
 Nor livelier sport could landsmen "ask, 
 
 As when mayhap off Isle Au Haute, 
 Mount Desert Isle, or Grand Menan, 
 
 All hands at call of watch awake. 
 And quick the weather-gunnel man, 
 
 The early morning spurt to take. 
 
 Ah, there is sport in earnest when, 
 
 Arranged along a smack's low side, 
 A row of nimble fishermen 
 
 Whip the bright mackerel from the tide ; 
 While every hand the lines engage. 
 
 And never for a bite they wait. 
 But the mad fishes, in their race. 
 
 Oft seize the hook wdthout a bait. 
 
 And some e'en from the water leap 
 To seize the tempting lure : meanwhile 
 
46 PLEASANT WATER. 
 
 The gathering stores the casks o'erheap, 
 And leeward on the deck they pile : 
 'Tis life, 'tis motion all, intense, 
 Incessant, with continuous sound 
 
 Like rain-fall when a full cloud vents. 
 And pours its treasures on the ground. 
 
 'Twas thus on a bright autumn day, 
 
 As I recall, that off this shore, 
 From dawn till dusk of evening lay 
 
 The fleet, a hundred sail or more^ 
 While on their decks, with hook and line. 
 
 Done with a pull and jerk so quick, 
 A thousand men drew from the brine 
 
 The mottled shiners, fat and sleek. 
 
 VII. 
 Where through the shallow waters gleam 
 
 The white sands of the beach that makes 
 The farther margin of the stream. 
 
 What dark, slow moving body takes 
 A seaward course, and seems to show 
 
 As when, mid heaven, a stately cloud. 
 Through the clear ether sailing slow. 
 
 Casts on the wave a passing shroud ? 
 
PLEASANT WATER. 47 
 
 Now this a lucky chance shall prove, 
 
 And fill the fishers' hearts with glee ; 
 There shoaling o'er the bright sands move 
 
 The scaly tenants of the sea, 
 Darkening the wave in circuit wide, 
 
 By an unerring instinct led. 
 With the first ebbing of the tide, 
 
 To leave the narrow river-bed. 
 
 'Gainst Nature guarded, but not Art, 
 
 By their quick sense of danger shown, 
 Ere they can from the stream depart, 
 
 The fishermen a snare have thrown 
 Across their pathway to the main ; 
 
 They meet the barrier interposed, 
 And backward rush, — but flee in vain ; — 
 
 The seine has the whole shoal inclosed. 
 
 Now by a lively fear impelled, 
 
 They rage around the floating fence, 
 But find themselves on all sides held 
 
 Secure : meanwhile the men commence 
 Dragging their captives to the shore. 
 
 Narrowing their prison by degrees, 
 'Till room to float they find no more. 
 
 Then what a sight the fisher sees ! 
 
48 PLEASANT WATER. 
 
 Like a fierce, seething caldron, all 
 
 The living mass convulsed is seen ; 
 They writhe, they quiver, leap and fall. 
 
 Their bright scales glittering in the sheen 
 Like silvery rays from ice-pearls flashed. 
 
 When Winter shakes his locks of frost ; 
 And the scant brine, in fury lashed. 
 
 Above them in bright spray is tossed. 
 
 'Tis the old fray of life with death. 
 
 In which the seeming loser wins ; 
 For with the lapse of mortal breath 
 
 Life in some higher form begins, 
 And so, at last, shall rule the worlds ; 
 
 Soon spent their rage, they slacken, die, 
 And like a heap of shining pearls. 
 
 Glistening upon the wet sands lie. 
 
 Not long they lie : before night-fall, 
 
 Transported to the other shore. 
 By hands expert the heavy haul 
 
 Is dressed, and salted down in store. 
 For use, ycleped menhaden bait. 
 
 Such on her voyage the Leader took, 
 To lure the shy fish to their fate 
 
 Of death upon the barbed hook. 
 
PLEASANT WATER. 49 
 
 VIII. 
 
 But now a gentler, sweeter phase 
 
 Of village life we turn to view : 
 When come the warm, bright August days 
 
 Upon this tide a happy crew 
 Of lads and maidens oft will float, 
 
 Borne up the river to the Poles, 
 Or Millet's Island in their boat. 
 
 Or, landing by the white sand-knolls, 
 
 To Coffin's farm will take their way, 
 
 And in the vales, or on the hills. 
 In gathering berries spend the day. 
 
 Sometimes a generous laddie fills 
 A lassie's basket ere his own, 
 
 Whence in her heart a sweet surmise, 
 As to what means the kindness shown, 
 
 She feels, and hides with downcast eyes. 
 
 Ofttimes a simple act like this. 
 By maiden instinct understood. 
 
 Will lead the way to wedded bliss ; 
 So Paul the fair Paulina wooed : 
 4 
 
50 PLEASANT WATER. 
 
 'T was years ago, — we saw them stand 
 Beside a bush, — no word was spoken j 
 
 He took the basket from her hand 
 To fill — this was the only token : 
 
 But when, at fall of eve returning. 
 
 Together all we crossed the stream, 
 We knew a tender flame was burning 
 
 In two young hearts ; we saw it gleam 
 From eyes that could not hide its light, 
 
 And glow upon a fair, young cheek ; 
 * Nor did we question much the right 
 
 Of Love so soon his own to seek. 
 
 And everybody said 'twas well. 
 
 And turned but as they thought it would ; 
 And busy tongues were fain to tell 
 
 How brave he was, and she how good \ 
 And five years later, when beside 
 
 The old church altar, Paul, man-grown. 
 Stood up and owned her for his bride, 
 
 All hearts confessed she was his own. 
 
 Thenceforward, as the glad years rolled, 
 Their wedded life grew strong and sweet ; 
 
PLEASANT WATER. 51 
 
 Each life the other did enfold, 
 And each the other made complete : 
 
 Now to the full estate of man 
 Attained, the happiness they know 
 
 Is formed on Nature's perfect plan 
 To crown God's noblest work below. 
 
 But I bethink me 't was a tale 
 
 Of other sort I meant to tell. 
 When Love the wish did countervail, 
 
 And to his use the verse compel ; 
 For he the fair occasion seized 
 
 His ready story to intrude, 
 And led the loose song as he pleased 
 
 Through this soft, wandering interlude. 
 
 But to resume : When the rich juices 
 
 In Nature's laboratories stilled. 
 Poured through innumerable sluices, 
 
 The myriad little sacks have filled 
 That rest on bush and vine distent, 
 
 Empurpling the rough hill-sides round 
 With food pure as the manna sent 
 
 To Israel on the desert ground; 
 
52 PLEASANT WATER. 
 
 If not miraculously given, 
 
 As was that heaven-descended bread, 
 Not less the gracious gift of Heaven, 
 
 And scarcely less by us unread 
 The mystery of its wondrous birth ; 
 
 Then o'er this tide, by sail and oar 
 Impelled, the villagers go forth. 
 
 Right glad to reap the proffered store. 
 
 From press of care and business free, 
 
 A goodly company they go, 
 On a bright day betimes, and we, 
 
 The spring of their delights to know, 
 Will watch them as they seek the fields, 
 
 Where Earth, from her full, generous breast. 
 To every sense enjoyment yields. 
 
 And eye, and ear, and heart, are blest. 
 
 They taste the rich, delicious fare. 
 
 While gathering for the homespread board, 
 And drink the cooling waters where 
 
 The stream from vine-clad fount is poured ; 
 Well pleased they take the gracious dower 
 
 Kind Nature to the quick sense brings, 
 The mingled breaths of herb and flower, 
 
 Borne on the gentle zephyr's wings. 
 
PLEASANT WATER. 53 
 
 At noon beneath a fragrant pine, 
 
 Whose fallen foliage, outspread, 
 A carpet clean extends, they dine 
 
 Like them whom he of Mamre fed: 
 Above a bird pours forth a song 
 
 Sweeter than ever cheered the feast 
 Of monarch ; gladly they prolong 
 
 Their nooning till the song has ceased. 
 
 Meanwhile, inspired by the lay, 
 
 Old Jacob (still his heart is young) 
 Their gentle promptings will obey, 
 
 To give his tuneful thoughts a tongue ; 
 While sigh the soft winds through the trees, 
 
 The brook lends its sweet murmurings, 
 And every sound conspires to please, 
 
 This simple rural song he sings : 
 
 BERRYING. 
 
 " The summer skies are bright to-day ; 
 Come with me to the fields away, 
 Where Nature, if she find you true, 
 To her high feast will welcome you. 
 
54 PLEASANT WATER. 
 
 "Across the smooth, bright stream we pass, 
 And by the lane o'ergrown with grass, 
 Reach the deep glen and pasture wild, 
 By ruthless plowshare undefiled. 
 
 " With lightsome hearts here old and young 
 Ramble the tangled brakes among, 
 Where a late fallen summer shower 
 Has lent its breath to fern and flower. 
 
 "We'll ramble on the hill-sides free 
 Where the health breathing bayberry, 
 At every gentle touch, consents 
 Its fragrant offerings to dispense. 
 
 " If the sweet-brier with its thorn. 
 Should treat our humble suit with scorn, 
 With scissors or with knife in hand, 
 'T will yield its sweets to our demand. 
 
 " With its fresh shoots, and trailing vine, 
 Arid buds, and blooms a wreath we '11 twine, 
 Some fair, bright, sunny head to crown, 
 With leaves and tresses twining down. 
 
PLEASANT WATER. 55 
 
 " We '11 pluck the blueberries growing high, 
 Or nestling to earth's bosom nigh^ 
 And huckleberries from the hill 
 Shall help our basket stores to fill. 
 
 " We '11 sit at noontide in the shade 
 By some dark pine-tree for us made, 
 And while our hoarded lunch we take, 
 Soft warbling throats shall music make. 
 
 "A maid shall run to fill our cup 
 Where the clear water oozes up 
 From gravelly bed, and smile to view 
 In it her image smiling too. 
 
 " We '11 spend an hour in converse sweet. 
 Perchance a tale of love repeat, 
 Then pause to feel the calm profound 
 Of Nature's spirit brooding round. 
 
 " Where all sweet influences incline 
 True natures to the bond divine, 
 What wonder if ere we depart 
 Some kindred souls link heart to heart. 
 
56 PLEASANT WATER. 
 
 " The gentle birds amid the groves 
 Seek out their mates and sing their loves, 
 And here, mayhap, if fate is kind, 
 Some heart its own true love may find." 
 
 Then they resume their pleasing quest, 
 
 And if one chance to light where grow 
 The thickest clusters, to the rest 
 
 The tempting store he hastes to show, 
 And with them shares his better luck ; 
 
 And finds himself a larger dole, 
 With generous mind a part to pluck. 
 
 Than with low greed to take the whole. 
 
 Over the rocky steeps they climb. 
 
 And through the tangled copses stray, 
 Scarce heeding the still lapse of time, 
 
 While slow declines the summer day. 
 Until the lengthening shadows warn 
 
 Them of the advancing steps of night, — 
 But point to where shall rise the morn, 
 
 As shadows ever point to light. 
 
 Then with their fruit they homeward turn 
 Their steps, and joining company, 
 
 %. 
 
PLEASANT WATER. 5/ 
 
 They of each other's fortunes learn, 
 While strayed apart; nor grudgingly 
 
 Will any view another's store, 
 
 Grieved by a friend's larger success. 
 
 Nor for that some have gathered more. 
 Will count his gathered sweets the less. 
 
 As home they walk a slight mishap 
 
 A gentle maiden doth befall, 
 Who tripping lightly o'er a gap 
 
 In the old, frost-heaved pasture wall, 
 Too careless of her foothold slips. 
 
 And in the dust her berries spills, 
 When tearful eyes and quivering lips 
 
 Tell what a grief her young heart fills. 
 
 'T is but a trifling thing to tell, 
 
 But gives occasion fair to show 
 How Love a sorrow may dispel ; 
 
 Quickly they of their stores bestow, 
 Each one a portion, small to give. 
 
 But such a gift as fills her heart 
 With a sweet sense, which long shall live. 
 
 And soften many another srnart. 
 
58 PLEASANT WATER. 
 
 As brightest glows the kindhng earth, J 
 
 When after storms clear skies appear, ' 
 
 Divinest joys in grief have birth, t 
 
 The sweetest smile shines through a tear : "j 
 
 So beams the happy maiden's face, ■ ? 
 
 Where tears bedew the lines of bliss ; 
 So grief to gladness shall give place, 
 
 When Heaven the weeping world shall kiss. 
 
 Could they who sit at sumptuous boards, i 
 
 And daintily the viands sip, 
 Where wealth the choicest fare affords, 
 
 But find them pall upon the lip, i' 
 
 Come to the simple evening meal \ 
 
 Of these when to their homes returned, •■: 
 
 And share the appetite they feel, 
 
 They'd know how sweet is food that 's earned. 
 
 Or at the morrow's dinner hour 
 
 Could join the hale and hungry toiler, 
 And share his good wife's paste of flour, 
 
 With berries stuffed, hot from the boiler ; 
 Or of her berry pies partake, 
 
 With crust embrowned with nicest care. 
 Or taste her quivering berry cake, ' 
 
 They 'd know how well the poor may fare. 
 
PLEASANT WATER. 59 
 
 And ye who sink in beds of down, 
 
 After days spent in time's undoing, 
 To see the god of slumber frown. 
 
 And spurn with scorn your warmest wooing ; 
 Or who, at the high dawning hour, 
 
 Leave pleasures gained at too much cost, 
 To seek the god's composing power, 
 
 But find yourselves by tempests tossed ; 
 
 Could ye forsake your couches dreary 
 
 To share the cottager's hard bed, 
 From a day's rambling thus aweary^ 
 
 Ye'd know how easy rests the head 
 When Nature the tired senses steeps 
 
 In a sure letheon from her breast; 
 Not sounder a fed infant sleeps 
 
 On a soft bosom soothed to rest. 
 
 Soft chariots which the gods provide 
 
 At eve for weary workers wait, 
 In which the drowsy senses glide, 
 
 On noiseless axles, through the gate 
 That leads to Sleep's oblivious realm, 
 
 Where Somnus soothing draughts supplies. 
 Which sense, and thought, and feeling whelm 
 
 In slumbers deep till morn arise. 
 
60 PLEASANT WATER. 
 
 But often Fancy on the way 
 
 Will linger for a little space, 
 The various doings of the day 
 
 In fairy visions to retrace ; 
 When forms of beauty and delight, 
 
 That in all common things inhere. 
 Unfolded to the inward sight, 
 
 In strange but beauteous guise appear. 
 
 So these, perchance, before they sleep, 
 
 See fairer views of hill and dale, 
 Sweet brooks through greener meadows creep, 
 
 Light boats on brighter waters sail, 
 Ripe fruit in thicker clusters grow, 
 
 Harvests wave richer in the fields, 
 Or Ocean grander in its flow 
 
 Than e'er the light of day reveals. 
 
 The roughest works the hands have hewed. 
 
 By day, with patient toil and care. 
 Oft in this softening light reviewed. 
 
 The lineaments of beauty wear. 
 And cares to light-winged angels turn : 
 
 So may we hope, life's labors past. 
 In better light, their features stern 
 
 May be to forms divine recast. 
 
PLEASANT WATER. 6 1 
 
 IX. 
 
 Now must the lingering verse fulfill 
 
 The long neglected promise given 
 To paint the old church on the hill, 
 
 Where humble souls communed with Heaven ; 
 Turn back Time's page ten years or more, 
 
 Unveil some forms by death concealed, 
 The higher springs of life explore, 
 
 And show how love the truth revealed. 
 
 'T is Sabbath morn : above Mount Dawn 
 
 Appears the herald twilight ray, 
 Whereat Night's curtain is withdrawn, 
 
 Before the advancing King of Day ; 
 Who mounts the golden steps apace, 
 
 And soon, full robed, ascends his throne. 
 When bright beneath his beaming face 
 
 A new-created realm is shown : 
 
 Or seems to show ; for earth, new born. 
 Each morning, to our waking eyes, 
 
 Looks fresh as when, at the first morn, 
 The Almighty word leaped through the skies, 
 
62 PLEASANT WATER. 
 
 Like lightning on ethereal wires, 
 
 Touched the vast orbs involved in night, 
 
 Kindled their forms to glowing fires, 
 And flooded this new world with light. 
 
 O blessed Light! that erst did fill 
 
 With thy bright beams the Universe, 
 Obedient to the gracious will 
 
 By whose command thou dost disperse, 
 Each morn, the darkness for our sake, 
 
 When thy glad messenger, the sun, 
 Calls all the sleeping tribes to wake 
 
 Their various rounds of life to run ; 
 
 Efflux of Love ! sweet smile of God ! 
 
 Thou fair expression of his mind ; 
 Bright angel-form, that silver-shod 
 
 Walkest the world, and dost unwind 
 Thy golden wreath in which are bound. 
 
 In one bright twine, all beauteous hues. 
 And all thy radiant path around, 
 
 With flowers of beauty strew profuse ! 
 
 Whether seen in the noon's full blaze, 
 The evening twilight's fading beam, 
 
PLEASANT WATER. ^^ 
 
 The sad-faced Moon's soft silvery rays, 
 The smiling dawn's first cheering gleam, 
 
 The cold, bright flashings o'er the pole, 
 When Borealis shoots his spires, 
 
 Or in the glowing floods that roll 
 Where Summer burns her torrid fires ; 
 
 Whether to lonely captive's cell, 
 
 Through prison bars, thy scant rays steal, 
 In leafy bower, where lovers tell 
 
 The tender tale, the blush reveal. 
 Through latticed screens the sick man's cheek 
 
 Visit, and kindle to a smile. 
 Or Poverty's low dwelling seek. 
 
 And hearts of half their pains beguile; 
 
 When with thy party-colored bow 
 
 Thou archest the retreating storm, — 
 The gracious sign by which we know 
 
 That Heaven its promise will perform; — 
 A fair, bright vision sweetly bent 
 
 Across the tempest's frowning rear, 
 As after Grief's full flood is spent, 
 
 Will Hope's glad angel oft appear; 
 
64 PLEASANT WATER. 
 
 Or when the Sun with level glance 
 
 Edges the low-hung cloud with gold; 
 Or spreading wide o'er Heaven's expanse, 
 
 Thy ever changing hues unfold 
 In the soft drapery of the skies, — 
 
 The court of Nature curtaining 
 With hangings of imperial dyes, 
 
 Around the throne of Earth's proud king; 
 
 Or from a star, in age long past. 
 
 Shot through immeasurable space, 
 Reaching thy destined goal at last. 
 
 To twinkle in a human face ; — 
 A swift-winged spirit from above, 
 
 Commissioned ere our life began. 
 On a glad errand from the Love 
 
 That links all worlds and times with man: 
 
 Divinest of all energies 
 
 In Nature's kingdom, sovereign Light ! 
 In these and countless ministries 
 
 Her wealth unfolding to our sight ; 
 A welcome visitor thou art ; 
 
 And wheresoe'er thy glad rays shine 
 To sense and soul thou dost impart 
 
 Some affluence of the Soul Divine. 
 
PLEASANT WATER. 65 
 
 Has heaven graciously drawn nigh, 
 
 And bathed the earth in its fair sheen, 
 That such a soft, sweet light doth lie. 
 
 This Sabbath morn, on all terrene ? 
 And is this still and balmy air 
 
 Breathed on the world from realms above 
 To hallow the sweet hour of prayer 
 
 With heaven's own atmosphere of love ? 
 
 Such incense breathings from the ground, 
 
 Such benedictions in the sky, 
 So worshipful the hills around, 
 
 So reverent the waters lie, 
 So sweet a psalm in every tone ! 
 
 Nature with voice and look invites 
 The humble near the Father's throne, 
 
 To mingle in religion's rites. 
 
 For not the heavenly voice within 
 
 Alone the wayward heart can move 
 To leave the low delights of sin 
 
 For sacred joys ; things outward prove 
 True helpers in religion's ways. 
 
 And tlirough the sense, with power divine, 
 Impress the humble mind, and raise 
 
 High thoughts that chasten and refine. 
 5 
 
()6 PLEASANT WATER, 
 
 The natural and spiritual 
 
 Alike subserve our highest need, 
 And every wandering prodigal 
 
 By gracious influence homeward lead : 
 Love has all forces for his own, 
 
 In heaven and earth, and will at last 
 Erect his everlasting throne 
 
 Above the ruins of the past. 
 
 To-day, by spirit prompting led, 
 
 The Sabbath's solemn sweetness wooed, 
 Or if by lower impulse sped, 
 
 With hearts uplifted to a mood 
 Above the tone of other days, 
 
 The humble villagers attend 
 The place where grateful prayer and praise 
 
 To Heaven's gracious ear ascend. 
 
 They greet each other at the door, 
 
 Before the hour of service due, 
 Perchance the week's events talk o'er, 
 
 Or pleasant memories renew 
 Of by-gone days ; and who will say 
 
 Such converse should be under ban, 
 As fitting not the place or day, 
 
 Since place and day were made for man? 
 
PLEASANT WATER. 6/ 
 
 Upon a gently rising ground, 
 
 By grass-grown, winding road-ways reached, 
 That lead from quiet hamlets round, 
 
 Stands the old fane where Bradstreet preached 
 The sacred word, and Leonard now. 
 
 Weekly, with heavenly manna feeds 
 The souls that at its altar bow. 
 
 Till hearts grow strong for noble deeds. 
 
 'Tis a rude structure, gray with time. 
 
 Nor hath it show of art in aught 
 Save that which makes all art sublime, 
 
 When outward forms express the thought 
 To highest sense of duty leal ; 
 
 Built of the fathers' scanty store, 
 It shows that Heaven-commended zeal 
 
 Which makes the less appear the more. 
 
 Above it stands nor spire, nor tower. 
 
 Nor belfry with its brazen tongue. 
 To tell the villagers the hour 
 
 When prayer is made and praises sung ; 
 No soft upholstery within 
 
 Invites the drowsy head to sleep 
 When plain but solemn words would win 
 
 Their feet the heavenly way to keep. 
 
68 PLEASANT WATER. 
 
 Yet not without a pleasing grace 
 
 And fitness reverent minds would use, 
 Is the arrangement of the place ; 
 
 The neatly paneled, square-built pews, 
 The galleries stretching three sides round, 
 
 The deacons' seats, the pulpit high, 
 With the quaint sounding-board high crowned, 
 
 Might not offend a cultured eye. 
 
 And all the house a solemn air 
 
 Pervades, as if the spoken word 
 Had left its holy impress there, 
 
 And a low voice of prayer were heard : 
 And well-worn stoop, and olden seat 
 
 Awaken sad, sweet memories 
 Of them who there once loved to meet, 
 
 But now are with their Lord in bliss. 
 
 There may be who account as vain 
 
 The feeling tender souls approve, 
 That would the ancient things retain, 
 
 And mourns when cherished forms remove ; 
 That loves some rock, or tree, or brook, 
 
 Some path our frequent steps have worn, 
 A rustic seat, or sheltered nook, 
 
 Some tide that oft our boat has borne, 
 
PLEASANT WATER. 69 
 
 Or more some ancient house of prayer, 
 
 Scarce less than a familiar friend, 
 Whose loss no new forms can repair : 
 
 Such love the elder ones who bend 
 In worship at this sacred shrine, 
 
 Have for this place ; and shall we say. 
 Who build the new are more divine 
 
 Than who the olden would delay ? 
 
 But now the service hour at hand. 
 
 The pastor leaves his neighboring manse. 
 Before his gathered flock to stand ; 
 
 And while his reverent steps advance, 
 Each loiterer seeks the accustomed seat; 
 
 And when his lofty place he takes. 
 The assembly, with composure meet, 
 
 Waits till the opening anthem breaks. 
 
 A central figure in the scene. 
 
 Uprises now the village Squire, 
 Of stately form, and noble mien, 
 
 And zealous mind to lead the choir; 
 With ear attuned all chords to know. 
 
 But voice so hard he seldom sings ; 
 His right hand holds his rosined bow, 
 
 His left is at the viol strings. 
 
70 PLEASANT WATER. 
 
 He sweeps the bow the chords along, 
 
 The ready singers sound the key, 
 Then rising swell the lofty song 
 
 That ends the Hebrew Psalmody ; 
 Well guided by their leader's hand, 
 
 And kindling with his rising fire, 
 In chorus full the numerous band 
 
 Bear up this strain from David's lyre : 
 
 PSALM CL. 
 
 " O praise God in his holy place : 
 
 Praise ye Him in the firmament 
 Of His high power. Praise, laud, and bless 
 
 Him for His greatness excellent. 
 Him for his mighty acts O praise : 
 
 Bid trumpet, harp, and psaltery. 
 Timbrels and sounding cymbals raise. 
 
 With pipes and stringed minstrelsy, 
 And what the full choir uttereth, 
 
 His lofty praise with one accord. 
 Let every creature that hath breath 
 
 Now praise the Lord. Praise ye the Lord. 
 
 The anthem ended, and composed 
 To silence all, the minister 
 
PLEASANT WATER. /I 
 
 Reads in the holy book disclosed 
 God's gracious purpose to confer 
 
 On sinful men the wondrous gift 
 Of life eternal through his Son ; 
 
 Whose power from sin and death shall lift 
 Our race, and gather all in one. 
 
 The prophecy sublime of Good 
 
 Triumphant, Evil overthrown, 
 In words longtime misunderstood, 
 
 And only in their fullness known 
 To hearts enlarged by love, and filled 
 
 With the divine good-will to all, 
 He reads, and like the dew distilled 
 
 On Hermon's brow, the sweet strains fall. 
 
 Then by the glowing promise warmed, 
 
 With hands upon the book he prays ; 
 His deep-lined face, with zeal informed, 
 
 The fervor of his soul displays ; 
 His thin locks gathered in a tie, 
 
 Above his head by age made bare, 
 Uplifted, as to heaven nigh. 
 
 He pleads in deep impassioned prayer. 
 
72 PLEASANT WATER. 
 
 For the dear people of his charge 
 
 He prays that their glad faith may prove 
 In them its power to enlarge 
 
 The kindly sympathies, and move 
 The hands to deeds of charity, 
 
 That, serving others, they may grow 
 In fellowship continually 
 
 With the great brotherhood below. 
 
 That God would his good Spirit send 
 
 With unction in their hearts to dwell. 
 Their inward tempers to amend, 
 
 And sin's seductions to repel, 
 That so in holiness of mind 
 
 Advancing till made ripe in love, 
 A blessed fellowship may bind 
 
 Them to the brotherhood above. 
 
 Nor will his careful thought forget 
 
 The claim of their material needs, 
 The still renewed, though oft paid debt, 
 
 That Nature's voice so urgent pleads; 
 He prays that the All-bounteous hand 
 
 Would give their labors large success, 
 Both on the sea and on the land, 
 
 Their basket and their store to bless. 
 
PLEASANT WATER. 73 
 
 But most he prays the gracious Lord 
 
 For them who sail the uncertain sea, 
 That He his succor would afford 
 
 In time of hard extremity, 
 When o'er the heaving waters sweeps 
 
 The hurricane on furious wing, 
 To lift them o'er the yawning deeps, 
 
 And to their port in safety bring. 
 
 Then widening out his generous thought. 
 
 He prays for all the human race. 
 That the great truth by Jesus taught 
 
 Of God's illimitable grace ; 
 The truth by bloody cross unsealed, — 
 
 The pledge and power of full salvation. 
 Might in its fullness be revealed 
 
 To every kindred, tribe, and nation. 
 
 The gift of good, and shield from ill, 
 
 In much the verse may not repeat, 
 Besought, submissive to God's will, 
 
 These fitting words his prayer complete : 
 " Now to the King eternal, the 
 
 Immortal and invisible. 
 The only wise God, honor be. 
 
 And glory, evermore. Amen."* 
 
74 PLEASANT WATER. 
 
 Then minister and people sit 
 
 Meet space in silent worship ; then 
 A dear old hymn, by Newton writ, 
 
 He reads, and rising all again. 
 In notes of Mason's pleasing score. 
 
 The choir the diapason swell ; 
 As up the rising scale they soar, 
 
 And down the smooth steps glide, they tell. 
 
 That safely through another week 
 
 The Lord has brought them on their way, 
 How gladly they his blessing seek 
 
 While waiting in his courts to-day : 
 Sweet day, of all the week the best, 
 
 For holy joys and worship made; 
 True emblem of that day of rest 
 
 Whose blessed light shall never fade. 
 
 And on the flowing measures sped, 
 
 In joyful strains they praise the Power 
 That through the week such gladness shed, 
 
 And mercies multiplied each hour ; 
 And ask that, from earth's cares set free. 
 
 This day a sweet delight may prove ; 
 And thus may all their Sabbaths be 
 
 Till they shall join the church above. 
 
PLEASANT WATER. 75 
 
 Then doth the minister discourse 
 
 Of hope and duty, from a text 
 Of Scripture, ever pregnant source 
 
 Of truth, and shows how souls perplexed 
 With doubts of human destiny, 
 
 By loving well and living pure, 
 May grow divine till they can see 
 
 That God has made his ends secure : 
 
 And find within themselves a law 
 
 Whose sweet, constraining influence, 
 Drawing their souls, they know can draw 
 
 All souls to glad obedience ; 
 Whence from itself the heart foredates 
 
 For all God's children of the earth 
 The time that in his purpose waits 
 
 To crown them with a heavenly birth. 
 
 He shows that peace may not be found 
 
 When it is sought for self alone ; 
 That all God's children are so bound 
 
 In one, and so linked to his throne. 
 That utter loss of any soul 
 
 Would work a loss to us and Him, 
 To mar the universal whole, 
 
 And make the light of heaven grow dim. 
 
^6 PLEASANT WATER. 
 
 As will decay a household flame, 
 
 When one who made the band complete 
 Meets a stern death of sin and shame, 
 
 And naught can make that bitter sweet. 
 Till Mercy shall wash out the stain, 
 
 And peace and purity restore, — 
 So Love must all his own regain 
 
 Or grieve his loss for evermore. 
 
 He shows that minds most like the Lord's 
 
 Best understand his written w^ord, 
 And see how threatened wrath accords 
 
 With what is promised, what inferred 
 Of universal grace therein j 
 
 That wrath and grace seek the same end, 
 Man's final triumph over sin ; 
 
 And Justice is the sinner's friend. 
 
 That sin will the fair record blur. 
 
 And pride the heavenly message spurn ; 
 Love is the true interpreter 
 
 That makes the page with glory burn : 
 And humble, pure, and contrite heart 
 
 Opens and clears the mental sight, 
 And finds its way where cold, proud Art 
 
 Errs in the blaze of its own light. 
 
PLEASANT WATER. JJ 
 
 That faith cannot extend its scope 
 
 Beyond its warrant to believe 
 In future good, nor mortals hope 
 
 For better than they shall receive ; 
 For God will give, if not in kind, 
 
 In measure far beyond our thought ; 
 And every soul at last shall find 
 
 A richer portion than it sought. 
 
 And what the Sacred Word foretells 
 
 Nature's fair symbols intimate. 
 And this great soul of Manhood swells 
 
 With promise of the same high fate : 
 The flowering, ripening seasons past, 
 
 The harvest, on God's threshing-floor 
 Beat out and winnowed, shall at last 
 
 Be garnered in the heavenly store. 
 
 As plants and trees, that through the night 
 
 Sleep and digest the day's full feast, 
 Bend forward for the morning light, 
 
 Till they grow leaning to the east, 
 The growing, longing heart of man 
 
 Is reaching forth for the divine ; 
 And more and more, since time began, 
 
 Men towards the heavenly dawn incline. 
 
78 PLEASANT WATER. 
 
 As grasses o'er the untilled fields 
 
 Spread and supplant the useless weeds, 
 So vice to growing virtue yields, 
 
 The better to the ill succeeds : 
 Eternal goodness, rooted deep 
 
 In Him who all true life supplies, 
 Shall its immortal vigor keep, 
 
 While evil languishes and dies. 
 
 But best the promise they may find 
 
 In the great life of Him who bled 
 A sacrifice for all his kind ; 
 
 In whom the human nature, fed 
 From the divine in full supply, 
 
 Grew into perfect harmony 
 With the all-holy life on high, — 
 
 A type of what our race shall be. 
 
 For so it was the Father's plan. 
 
 For his great love of men, to make 
 On earth, in time, a perfect man, 
 
 Who should, for his dear brethren's sake, 
 A pattern of true manhood show ; 
 
 And by his words and works make plain 
 The path that sinful men must go 
 
 The immortal crown of life to gain. 
 
PLEASANT WATER. J^ 
 
 But he instructs them that such hope 
 
 Only the loyal heart can cheer; 
 That they who rest in sin must grope 
 
 In darkness and be slaves to fear : 
 That hate and lust a thick shroud weave, 
 
 That shuts Love's sweet suggestions out, 
 Till men no good of men believe. 
 
 And the Eternal Goodness doubt. 
 
 Who loveth all hath hope for all, 
 
 For Love no final evil dreads ; 
 Who hates, his hatred, like a pall. 
 
 Over the brightest prospect spreads : 
 The present and the future take 
 
 Their coloring from our inward state, 
 And heaven or hell we find or make, 
 
 According as we love or hate. 
 
 With fitting counsels for the good, 
 
 And words of warning for the ill, 
 His meet persuasions now conclude : 
 
 Some hearts with firmer purpose fill 
 To love and serve their gracious Lord ; 
 
 Others, to good resolves perhaps 
 Moved by the soul-constraining word. 
 
 Soon to their earthly moods relapse. 
 
80 PLEASANT WATER. 
 
 Brief is the service that remains ; 
 
 Another sacred song they sing; 
 Old Hundred's grand, majestic strains 
 
 To heaven their solemn praises wing : 
 He breathes a short, concluding prayer, 
 
 His waiting flock once more commends 
 To God's paternal love and care. 
 
 And with the benediction ends. 
 
 Not always thus so full and broad 
 
 Has he the Gospel grace proclaimed, 
 Though to be faithful to his God 
 
 And conscience he has ever aimed ; 
 In his high calling brave and true 
 
 He has not sought his light to hide, 
 Though not too swift to teach the new, 
 
 Till by unerring standards tried. 
 
 Indoctrinated in the creeds 
 
 That limit God's eternal plan, 
 When called to serve this people's needs, 
 
 His message in the old ways ran : 
 But with a generous work to do. 
 
 And by kind deeds growing more kind, 
 His loving nature soon outgrew 
 
 The cold, hard logic of his mind. 
 
PLEASANT WATER. 8 1 
 
 Then what a mighty conflict raged 
 
 Within his breast ! How bleeding love 
 Could never get its grief assuaged 
 
 While text and comment seemed to prove 
 That wrath divine would ever burn 
 
 'Gainst kindred, neighbor, lover, friend ! 
 How, while his head the doctrine stern 
 
 Received, his heart would still contend. 
 
 Through sleepless nights and toilsome days, 
 
 (Let not the vain the task deride,) 
 In reason's light, through learning's maze, 
 
 To solve the unsolvable he tried ; — 
 The problem dark to understand, 
 
 How Evil evermore must dwell 
 With Good co-equal, and command 
 
 The half of heaven to make its hell. 
 
 Still holding fast the Sacred Word, 
 
 His heart still clinging to its own. 
 No voice of friendly counsel heard. 
 
 But wrestling with his doubts alone. 
 With duty's daily calls to meet, 
 
 He toiled, and moiled, and sweat, and groaned, 
 Till reason, in its kingly seat. 
 
 Trembled, and well-nigh was dethroned. 
 6 
 
S2 PLEASANT WATER. 
 
 Such wreck has often thus been wrought, 
 
 And such perhaps had been his Cfise, 
 Had not a timely helper brought 
 
 To him a larger hope of grace, 
 And Love revealed the hidden sense 
 
 Of holy writ, to show how past 
 All sin and wrath, his recompense 
 
 Of perfect joy shall come at last. 
 
 Oh, then what peace, what joy he found ! 
 
 How, as he read the sacred page. 
 Still more and more he saw abound 
 
 The words prophetic that presage 
 The age beyond the age of strife, 
 
 The issue of this long distress, 
 When death shall end in endless life. 
 
 And sin in perfect holiness. 
 
 It was enough : this hope possessed 
 
 Met the deep longings of his mind. 
 And faith could trust for all the rest : 
 
 Such questions as remained behind, 
 As to why sin and pain should fill 
 
 Our earth-life with such heavy woes. 
 Remitted to the Heavenly will, 
 
 Could not disturb his heart's repose. 
 
PLEASANT WATER. 83 
 
 How fared it with tlie little flock 
 
 When he made known his altered views ? 
 Did the strange revelation shock 
 
 Their simple trust, and they refuse 
 To follow where the shepherd led ? 
 
 Some did ; the most, relying on 
 The heart that so their hearts had fed, 
 
 Soon to his better faith were won. 
 
 So still he preached, and still they heard; 
 
 But 't was with a diviner food 
 To hungry souls he ministered; 
 
 And in serener, sweeter mood 
 His people in his rounds he met, 
 
 To help them life's hard cares above ; 
 And larger grew in all the debt 
 
 Of mutual sympathy and love. 
 
 They called him changeling : so he was, 
 
 If that, forsooth, a changeling be 
 "Which grows and forms from inward cause 
 
 To ripeness, size, and symmetry. 
 Changeling ! a stripling changes so. 
 
 Who, with his fast advancing years, 
 His youthful garments doth outgrow, 
 
 And in the manly garb appears. 
 
84 PLEASANT WATER. 
 
 X. 
 
 Can change invade a scene so fair ? 
 
 Must hearts so closely bound be parted? 
 Will never Death's swift arrows spare 
 
 The kindest, noblest, truest hearted? 
 Ah me ! why should the dearest things, 
 
 The sweetest, loveliest forms we cherish 
 Break from our grasp, and take them wings, 
 
 And leave our earthly hopes to perish? 
 
 No answer serves us if not this, 
 
 That those we here so dearly prize 
 Are wanted in the home of bliss, 
 
 And fitted soonest for the skies : 
 I hold it proof of human worth. 
 
 That to us such true sense is given, 
 That what we last would keep on earth 
 
 The angels will have first in heaven. 
 
 Turn forward now the page again ; 
 
 Let Time's revolving circles run 
 Ten rounds of change to times and men, — 
 
 Ten years that past seem scarcely one ; 
 The dear old fane has disappeared. 
 
 Despite what age could say or do, 
 
PLEASANT WATER. 85 
 
 And in its place young zeal has reared 
 A modern temple fair to view. 
 
 To-day a solemn stillness broods 
 
 O'er all the place ; toil's tumults cease, 
 Nor traffic its rude strife intrudes; 
 
 Death has its way of bringing peace : 
 The common brotherhood is felt 
 
 In presence of a common grief; 
 And sternest hearts in pity melt, 
 
 When dies the man who stood the chief. 
 
 Now gathered in the house of prayer, 
 
 Silent and sad, the people wait 
 The solemn service : lying there 
 
 Before the altar, he who late. 
 For a brief season, from his place 
 
 In the new temple, to them spake 
 Of duty, and of boundless grace. 
 
 Sleeps, never more on earth to wake. 
 
 Ah ! how inopportune appear 
 Death's comings often to bear hence 
 
 The helpers of our life-work here ; . 
 Nor rank, nor worth is a defense 
 
86 PLEASANT WATER. 
 
 Against his summons when he calls ; 
 
 He takes the watchman at his post : 
 This sentinel upon their walls 
 
 Falls when his watch seems needed most. 
 
 With dirge, and prayer, and thoughtful speech 
 
 The funeral service now proceeds ; 
 And one whose memories farthest reach 
 
 Tells of the faith, the generous deeds, 
 The struggles hard, the purpose high 
 
 Of that true life so much their own : 
 Hearts swell, and tears fill every eye. 
 
 While thus his gracious ways are shown. 
 
 Then on sweet " Melton's " flowing notes 
 
 The choir in tender tones breathe forth 
 The simple hymn the verse here quotes ; 
 
 An humble tribute to his worth 
 Whose loss with grief fills every mind ; 
 
 Writ for the occasion, only meant, 
 Just for the time, some words to find 
 
 To give the o'erfilled heart a vent. 
 
PLEASANT WATER. 8/ 
 
 HYMN. 
 " Sleep, gentle shepherd, on thy hallowed bier 
 Death for thy head a quiet pillow makes ; 
 In peace thy earthly form shall slumber here, 
 While thy true self to better life awakes. 
 
 " No more thy faithful hand shall pen the fold ; 
 
 The younglings now shall miss thy tender 
 
 care ; 
 
 Thy sheep may wander on the mountains cold, 
 
 And seek in vain thy guiding presence there. 
 
 "To what fair heights of pasture, by thee led, 
 
 We climbed o'er rugged steeps, through 
 
 passes wild ; 
 
 And while along the toilsome paths we sped, 
 
 How thy sweet voice the weary way beguiled. 
 
 " With thee no more the sunny slopes we keep ; 
 With thee no more pursue the darksome way \ 
 With thee no more ascend the heavenly steep 
 That leadeth upward to celestial day. 
 
 " Thou restest now : thy rod and staff we miss, 
 And we a stranger's voice must learn to 
 know ; 
 
88 PLEASANT WATER. 
 
 But Still we faint not while assured of this, 
 That where thou dvvellest we at last shall go." 
 
 The solemn service closed, they bear 
 
 His body to its resting-place 
 In the old cemetery, where 
 
 The fathers sleep in earth's embrace, 
 Followed by a long funeral train, 
 
 Composed of all the dwellers round. 
 The elders and the children, fain 
 
 To show their love and grief profound. 
 
 To mark the general grief to-day, 
 
 The sailors — 't is their custom meet — 
 Half-mast the nation's flag display 
 
 From every topmast of their fleet ; 
 And on the flag-staff at Young's rock 
 
 The mourning signal drooping floats, 
 Whence to the busy fancy flock 
 
 Suggestions which the Muse here notes : 
 
 HALF-MAST. 
 
 Half-mast the mournful signals float ! 
 The drooping symbols show 
 
PLEASANT WATER. 89 
 
 Some grief upon the common heart ; 
 
 Some honored head lies low ; 
 A noble heart, loyal and brave, 
 
 And filled with all good-will, 
 
 In death now lieth still ; 
 For this half-mast the signals wave. 
 
 Half-mast the mournful signals float ! 
 
 With reverent steps and slow, 
 In long procession through the streets, 
 
 The silent mourners go : 
 They follow to an honored grave 
 
 One who with zeal and grace 
 
 Filled his appointed place, 
 For whom half-mast the signals wave. 
 
 Half-mast the mournful signals float ! 
 
 Only a few we know, 
 When called to fill a place above, 
 
 Leave such large space below; 
 What he received he freely gave, 
 
 And well his duty did ; 
 
 And love and duty bid 
 For him half-mast the signals wave. 
 
go PLEASANT WATER. 
 
 Half-mast the mournful signals float ! 
 
 And when the dust they throw 
 Above his sacred form, this thought 
 
 Shall mitigate our woe, 
 That He who died the world to save 
 
 Hath said, " Servant, well done, 
 
 Thou hast the victory won," 
 To him for whom these signals wave. 
 
 Half-mast the mournful signals float ! 
 
 And ever be it so. 
 When they who nobly live depart, 
 
 A meet respect to show : 
 When die the generous, wise, and brave. 
 
 Who fill their stations well, 
 
 The public loss to tell, 
 Thus let the mournful signals wave. 
 
 XL 
 Are there no heroes in the walks 
 
 Of humble life ? Are brave men found 
 Only amid war's battle shocks ? 
 
 Have all earth's real kings been crowned? 
 Come, see how common men may rise. 
 
 With an occasion, to the height 
 
PLEASANT WATER. 9 1 
 
 Of noble, Christlike sacrifice, 
 
 And pity nerve weak hands with might. 
 
 For Fancy now, on weary wing, 
 
 From her discursive flight returns. 
 Leaving unsung much she might sing 
 
 In which a sweetness she discerns. 
 This morn brave Muloch, as was said, 
 
 Due south for Wigwam light-house steers, 
 But well he knows the cause for dread 
 
 As he the dangerous passage nears. 
 
 For now the tide is out ; alas. 
 
 That fate their only hope should mar ! 
 On speeds the bark, but can she pass 
 
 The shallow waters on the bar ? 
 Will not some timely tidal-wave 
 
 Her keel above the sands upbear. 
 And lift her o'er the threatening grave ? 
 
 Has Heaven for those brave men no care } 
 
 Yes, Heaven cares for whom it takes 
 And whom it leaves. By what we call 
 
 Calamities it often makes 
 
 The final stroke as lightly fall 
 
92 PLEASANT WATER. 
 
 As when the life is wasted slow : 
 And so appoints that men may find 
 
 High opportunities to show 
 The grandeur of the heroic mind. 
 
 On speeds the bark ! The watcher's soul 
 
 Is in his eyes on Lookout Hill, 
 To see her reach the dangerous shoal ! 
 
 She strikes ! she reels ! the waters fill 
 Her hold ; the waves that seemed to sleep, 
 
 Erewhile, now like fierce giants wake, 
 And o'er her deck in fury sweep, 
 
 And rage and triumph o'er their wreck. 
 
 And now the watcher makes all speed 
 
 To rouse the gallant men on shore ; 
 And quickly they the summons heed; 
 
 For ne'er did suffering men implore 
 In vain of such a helping hand : 
 
 Like her who dared the mighty wave 
 That thundered off Northumberland, 
 
 That morn, the perishing to save, 
 
 Those brave men to the shore now haste, 
 With willing hands and hearts to dare 
 
PLEASANT WATER. 93 
 
 The dangers of the ocean-waste, 
 To save the imperiled sailors, there 
 
 Ready to perish where they hang. 
 Fast clinging to the rigging high, 
 
 To which at first for life they sprang, 
 And shoreward turn the imploring eye. 
 
 What men can do these men will do : 
 
 No life-boat yet is on the strand j 
 But Sergeant Kilburn at Bay View, 
 
 Ready at once with oars in hand, 
 With gallant Sergeant Aronel, 
 
 Brave Captains Doolan, Henrilan, 
 And Tuckerman, resolved as well, 
 
 Quickly their Salisbury dories man. 
 
 And out upon the rough tide row. 
 
 And for the fainting sailors steer ; 
 Right through the breakers now they go. 
 
 Still on, nor seem to feel a fear : 
 O heavens ! see how the mad waves foam ! 
 
 Now in the deeps they disappear. 
 Now as they mount a wave's sharp comb 
 
 Their boats like balking steeds uprear. 
 
94 PLEASANT WATER. 
 
 But Steady hands are at the oars, 
 
 Head on the wrathful waves they breast, 
 And as each breaker foams and roars 
 
 Their boats ride safe on every crest j 
 And now they reach a smoother sea, 
 
 Where the mad deep its rage abates, 
 Under the sunken vessel's lee. 
 
 And hope the faint heart animates. 
 
 But ah ! upon the windward side 
 
 Hang the poor sailors, and the wreck 
 Is swept by the fierce, boiling tide. 
 
 No boat can cross the vessel's deck 
 To reach them ; what shall now be done ? 
 
 Must such brave efforts fruitless prove ? 
 Is there no hope of rescue? None, 
 
 Unless the men themselves can move, 
 
 *' Climb to the mast-head on the shroud, 
 
 And on the leeward side descend," 
 Now Sergeant Kilburn calls aloud : 
 
 Their lives upon the act depend. 
 But only one has power to obey ; 
 
 And Muloch thus the boat doth reach. 
 And Kilburn for the shore gives way. 
 
 And lands him safe on Lighthouse beach. 
 
PLEASANT WATER. 95 
 
 Muloch is saved ; the others, spent 
 
 With last night's toil, benumbed and cold, 
 Seem to their fearful fortune bent, 
 
 And clasp the shrouds with desperate hold ; 
 Nor loose their grasp till hope has died. 
 
 And strength is gone, when, one by one. 
 They drop into the raging tide, 
 
 And Death his short, sad work has done. 
 
 But not before those oarsmen brave 
 
 Again the angry waves have dared, 
 With new appliances to save 
 
 The sailors, and well-nigh have shared 
 Their fate ; but all without avail : 
 
 Nor had availed aught but the will 
 That calmed the Galilean gale. 
 
 To bid the boisterous waves be still. 
 
 Muloch is rescued — so we speak ; 
 
 The others perished — so we say : 
 They know no more who only seek 
 
 To learn what the dull senses may: 
 We saw the hands that rescued him. 
 
 But not the hands that saved the crew, 
 Because our mortal eyes are dim. 
 
 And see not what the angels do. 
 
96 PLEASANT WATER. 
 
 Nor can we say which better fared, — 
 
 He who upon the hither side 
 For further toil and strife was spared, 
 
 Or they who from the whelming tide 
 Were landed on the eternal shore ; 
 
 Whether they live or here or there, 
 They have, and never can need more, 
 
 The everlasting love and care. 
 
 I 
 
NOTES. 
 
NOTES. 
 
 Note i, p. 15. 
 
 And there the waiting " lentfitedtire" 
 Stands gazing towards the village shore. 
 
 I have been unable to trace the origin of this curious 
 word " lemmedure," which was commonly applied by the 
 villagers to a person standing on the beach opposite the vil- 
 lage, waiting to be ferried over. Possibly it is a foreign 
 word brought home by some seafaring man of the place, and 
 perhaps in this case properly used. I think, however, that 
 it is more likely of local origin, and that some circumstance 
 long since forgotten gave rise to its use. The elderly 
 people of the place will remember how frequently the ex- 
 clamation would be heard, " There 's a lemmedure on the 
 beach," and what lively dory races often took place be- 
 tween the boys in their eagerness to get " the bright silver 
 fee," — the fourpence ha' penny piece, which was the regular 
 price for ferrying a passenger across the harbor. I have 
 spelled the name as it was always pronounced. 
 
 The visitor to the place will look in vain for the long row 
 of "sand hillocks," or sand knolls, as they were commonly 
 called, mentioned in this verse, which were a marked and 
 interesting feature of the place, extending from the " Bar- 
 rocks " nearly to the point of the beach opposite Wheeler's, 
 
100 NOTES. 
 
 formerly Gee's, Point. They have nearly all been washed 
 down by the action of the sea, and at high water their place 
 is covered by the tide, giving a wider expanse of water, but 
 marring, as I conceive, the beauty of the scene. 
 
 Note 2, p. 16. 
 
 The hand of folly ^ that ne'er stops 
 To coiait the cost, this picture spread. 
 
 The time of this poem being laid about forty years ago, 
 considerable change has taken place in the appearance of 
 these hills since then. They are now much overgrown with 
 beach-grass, and do not present so marked a contrast with 
 the surrounding hills as is indicated in this verse. 
 
 The story of farmer Cofiin's having injured his farm by 
 cutting off the grove of pitch pine trees that bordered it on 
 the side towards the sea, has always been current among 
 the inhabitants of the place, and is doubtless true. An evi- 
 dence of the e-xistence of the trees used to be seen, a few 
 years ago, in the numerous pine stumps that appeared above 
 the sand at the southern end of Long-beach. Perhaps some 
 of them still remain. 
 
 I have taken considerable license in treating this circum- 
 stance, as I have with times, names, and circumstances in 
 other parts of the poem, for which I beg the indulgence of 
 the elderly people, and ask them to remember that I have 
 not here undertaken to write history. 
 
 Note 3, p. 26. 
 
 Well pleased, he 7ianied it Wo7ine Squam, 
 Which in his tongue means Pleasant Water. 
 
 The current tradition among the people of Annisquam 
 (formerly written Annis Squam) that the name of the place 
 
NOTES. lOl 
 
 is derived from the Indian word squam, signifying water, and 
 Ann, the name of the Cape, I regard as without foundation. 
 That an Indian word and an English name would be so 
 joined is highly improbable, and it is doubtful if such an 
 instance can be found. The name is doubtless wholly 
 of Indian origin, and was originally written Wonasquam. 
 The earliest mention of the name is in William Wood's 
 Map, in Wood's " New England Prospect," entitled " The 
 South part of New England as it is Planted this yeare 
 1634," where it is printed Wonasquam, and is located on 
 the north side of "Cap. Ann." 
 
 In "An Account of Two Voyages to New England, made 
 during the years 1638 and 1663, by John Joselyn," I find the 
 following : " To the Northward of Cape Ann is Wona- 
 squam, a dangerous place to sail by in stormie weather, by 
 reason of the many Rocks and foaming breakers." Mr. 
 Babson in his " History of Gloucester," p. 2, refers to these 
 authorities, and also says that " the name is mentioned in 
 Winthrop's Journal under the year 1635." The name was 
 undoubtedly so written down by the first English visitors, 
 as heard from the lips of the Indians. 
 
 As to the meaning of this name authorities differ, as they 
 do in regard to the signification of other Indian names. 
 That it may well be translated Pleasant Water would 
 appear from the following: In Cotton's "Indian Vocabu- 
 lary " many of the names begin with such prefixes as 
 " Winne," " Wonne," and " Wunno," and all words so be- 
 ginning have an agreeable, pleasant signification. Thus, on 
 page 163, the name " Winne tahansha " is said to mean 
 a pleasant laughter, zx^d. on page 173, " Wunnohquot" is said 
 to mean pleasant weather. Judge Potter in his " History of 
 Manchester," N. H., gives a similar meaning to the prefix 
 " Winne." On page 27 of his History he has the'following : 
 
102 NOTES. 
 
 " Winnepesauke is derived from Winne (beautiful), nipe 
 (water), kees (high), and auke (a place), meaning literally, 
 ' the beautiful water of the high place.' " In the " Histori- 
 cal Magazine " for August, 1857, vol. i. p. 246, are articles 
 from two different writers, defending Judge Potter's transla- 
 tion of the name Winnepesauke, which it seems had been 
 called in question by some one who asserted that the mean- 
 ing of the name was " The beautiful smile of God," and one 
 of them, fortunately for my purpose, has the following : 
 '• Among the New England Indians, and the Algonquins 
 generally, my impression is that Winne and Wonne invari- 
 ably mean beautiful, pleasant, or adjectives of quality nearly 
 akin to those. Thus Wonne Squam was apphed to that 
 beautiful basin of water at Cape Ann, now known as 
 Squam." 
 
 It is difficult to find authority for translating the Indian 
 word Squam by the word water. I believe the word does not 
 occur in Cotton's " Indian Vocabulary," before referred to. 
 The fact that it was so frequently applied to bodies of water 
 and lands bordering on the water, as in New Jersey and 
 New Hampshire, would seem to show pretty conclusively 
 that such must have been its meaning. It will be seen by 
 the quotation from Judge Potter's History that he translates 
 the word water from a different Indian word, " nipe." Per- 
 haps both these words mean water in different forms. A 
 gentleman, said to be good authority in such matters, says 
 that Squam means broken water ; so Wonne Squam would 
 mean "beautiful broken water," referring perhaps to the 
 breakers on the bar ; and Squam Peach, in New Jersey 
 means " broken or breaking water beach." 
 
 Though the earliest spelling of the name of which we have 
 any knowledge is Wonasquam, I have adopted that of 
 Wonne Squam as having about the same sound, and being 
 
NOTES. 103 
 
 more comformable to the best authorities, as it is certainly 
 more poetical and pleasing. 
 
 In regard to the name " Mushauwomuk " in this verse, 
 the Ancient Indian name for Boston, I am permitted to pub- 
 lish the following extract from a letter from Hon. J. Ham- 
 mond Trumbull, of Hartford, Conn., said to be the very high- 
 est authority in regard to Indian words, and the only person 
 in the world who can read Eliot's Bible : — 
 
 " The contraction of ' Mushauwomuk ' to ' Shawmut ' indi- 
 cates, I think, an original accent on the antepenult, though 
 both penult and antepenult must have been distinctly pro- 
 nounced. The Indian name was something like M'shaw'- 
 (5bm-uk, the vowel of the penult having the sound of 00 short 
 as in wool. The name denotes a place at which boats land, 
 — usually, the end of a ferry or crossing place, — and spe- 
 cially, the indentation of the shore at one side of a penin- 
 sula or point of land, where it leaves the main line of the 
 coast. This would be the farthest point to which ' there is 
 going by boat,' which is literally the meaning of ' m'shauw- 
 omuk.' There is no foundation whatever for the transla- 
 tion 'great spring,' or the like." 
 
 Note 4, p. 73. 
 
 Now to the King eternal^ the 
 Immortal and invisible, 
 The only wise God, honor be, 
 A7id glory, evermore. Amen. 
 
 The good minister seems to have borrowed his doxology 
 from Paul (i Tim. i. 17), but had amplified the text consid- 
 erably. The exact words in which he almost invariably 
 closed his prayer, as I remember them, were as follows : — 
 
I04 A'OTES. 
 
 " Now unto the King eternal, the immortal and invisible, 
 the only wise God, our Saviour, be honor, and praise, and 
 glory, now, henceforth and forever. Amen." 
 
 This minister (Rev. Ezra Leonard) seems to have acquired 
 and retained a stronger hold upon the affections of his peo- 
 ple than most of those exercising the pastoral office. This 
 he did, not so much by the eloquence of his preaching, as by 
 the goodness of his heart, leading him to a tender sympathy 
 with them in all their trials, labors, joys, and sorrows. His 
 pulpit services, in point of ability, were probably not above 
 the average, yet it is believed that no whisper of a desire for 
 a change of minister was ever heard among his parishioners, 
 during his long pastorate of more than twenty-seven years. 
 For a short account of him and his ministry I would refer 
 the reader to Mr. Babson's "■ History of Gloucester," pp. 488, 
 489, 490. Were materials at hand it would give me pleas- 
 ure to append a more extended biography of him to this 
 poem, in which he appears so prominent. His people 
 erected a monument to his memory, not long after his 
 death, 
 
 " In the old cemetery, where 
 
 The fathers sleep in earth's embrace." 
 
 His memory is still affectionately cherished by the older in- 
 habitants of the place. 
 
 Note. The illustrations in this volume are from Harper' s Ma gazitie, 
 September number, 1875, and are more than usually faithful pictures of 
 the places indicated by the lines printed beneath them, and for which 
 they were originally designed.