pkj^&^^m^ iwmM^^. oxv, LIBRARY OF CONGRESS^ ®^. ®npriW |n- USarSD STATES OF AMERICA 1 ± l«ftower ; For earth's transient pleasures may fade at a breath, And sink down for aye in the dark stream of death : My wish is a sweet one, and simple and free. Its granting rests only, high heaven, with thee; — Some fair, peaceful Eden — a heaven of rest Where happiness lingers — with love for my guest. LIFE. # THINK not when gazing on faces that bright- est May smile 'mid the revels of beauty's fair throng, That theirs are the hearts beating happiest, hght- est! They, tears in mirth freeze, and their sighs breathe in song ! Who dreams of the spirit's despair, when in beam- The eye warms to splendor, the rounded cheek glows? Or who can trace shadows deep even in seeming On brows regal crown'd with the gem or the rose ? Life's joys may be sweet, yet they ever are fleet- ing, And hopes, bright in early bloom, fade and de- cay; The heart may seem light, tho' in sorrow 'tis beat- ing, And oft do we falter on life's thorny way. (17) IS oouLD ran. Bright Pleasure deck'd fair in her bridal arraying, With magic lute summons to palace and hall Her votaries many — the false and the straying — Who nourish enchantment on wormwood and gall* ContentiL.ent and virtue, unknown and unknowing, Like gems in the ocean's deep caverns impearled. In love pure and free as the mountain stream flowing, Dwell happy apart from the snares of the world ! GOULD YOUf ^ITTING a maid, O so joyously sing-ing, ^^ From her lap wild flowers carelessly fling- ing, A wreath of them fragrant tenderly clinging To her sunny brown hair. Over the bank, so verdantly mossy. Coming the sunshine, ever so saucy, Down o'er her ringlets so silken and glossy, As she's sitting just there. COULD YOU. 19 Sitting a maid while the night shades are com- ing, Quietly still in the deep, purple gloaming, Her thoughts going out to the loved one roam- ing Ever so far from her side: — Thinking how they had once wandered together Thro' wood to water and out on the heather, Happy and gay in the sweet summer weather Till June's reddest roses died. She knows not, sees not, the clouds dark with thunder, Coming to drift them forever asunder, She who is waiting — he who is yonder Out on the ocean so blue. Daily her eyes have grown brighter and brighter, Daily her footstep falls lighter and lighter. Then her cheek pales — grows whiter and whiter, I could not tell her — could you ? A DBF AM OF BOSES. m DREAMED a bright dream by the brook in T^ the wildwood, Where grow the wild roses so sweet in the dell, While down the green hills I had climb'd in my childhood, Came floating the chimes of the old village bell. I dreamed of the roses, the bright, blooming roses, The sweet-scented roses that bloom in the dell, While close on the bank a dear fairy reposes, My fair love, my sweet love, my own Lily Bell. spotless as snow is my heart's love, my treasure Who dwells so serenely content in the vale! Who gave me her trust and her love without measure, While gathering roses one day in the dale! (30) A DEEAM OF ROSES. 21 love is a pure gem, that glows like the morn- ing, In the spirit's deep recesses hidden away — And bright as the stars, the clear lieavens adorn- ing, Its sweetness outrivals the scents of the May. Love's sweet recollections entwined with the roses, Bring with thfm bright visions of dear Lily Bell— And visions of roses, the clustering roses, The lovely wild roses, that grow in the dell! come, love, my Lily Bell, gather the roses — I long once again their bright treasure to see! O gather the roses, the fragrant wild roses, While I tell again love's sweet story to thee! Tho' life's darkest sorrows and fears shall sur- round me, And fancy's illusions forever depart. The love of my spirit, unfading, hath crowned thee ! And ever, ever, shall bloom in my heart! 22 OClLiN AND SBOBPJ. bring back the dream that I dreamed of the roses ! O bring back the hours that I spent in the dell ! Where, close on the bank, as of old she reposes, My fair love, my sweet love, my own Lily Bell ! OCEAN- AND SHORE. #N the ocean billows sailing, Glides a ship far, far awa}^ Now its outlines dim, unveiling, Pictured in the dawn of day, Loom up faint and fair and sightly. While the dawn breaks clear and brightly O'er the Avater's rolling tide. Far, far inland, surging, breaking, Wild the billows foam and roar, — Wave on wave the tide overtaking As it washes wide the shore — Washes inward to the maiden. Whose blue eyes with tears are laden, While the ship sails on her way. REVERIE. Mown furling his banner of glory, ^T The sun-king sinks low in the west, The zephyrs their oft murmured story Repeat to the bird in his nest. The farmer deserting the meadow Turns homeward, his scythe in his hand, Dim twilight in purpling shadow Creeps stealthily over the land. The woodland trees lonely are sighing, The stream winds along by the mill, The sun rays reflected are dying In phantom shapes over the hill. The orchard boughs heavy are drooping, Unheeded the mellow fruit falls. Together the elm-trees are grouping. Shut in by the low garden walls. The spring bubbles clear in the hollow. The train rumbles by on the road. Far over the field skims the swallow. Light gleams from the farmer's abode. (23) 24 LINES TO A TOXIN Q GIRL. The evening star pierces the gloaming, And back of yon dense-wooded ridge The silver moon upward is coming To brighten the old rustic bridge. The village bells tuneful are ringing, Their sweet chimes the echoes repeat, The village maid blithesome is singing And waiting her lover to greet. LINES TO A YOUNG GIRL. 'OlSTG may thy young life be ' Shielded from care, Days ever dawn for thee Cloudless and fair. Pure as the dews of morn Joys clustering glow: Sweet peace thy brows adorn Ever below. ' Hope, health and happiness Would each were thine ! No need of more to bless Thy life or mine. ONLY ASLEEP. 25 Wealth never joy compels, Graces are sweet — The graces of angels Are treasures meet. Faith, hope and charity Dower and crown, Gems of such rarity Heaven sends down , — These would I wish for thee All thy life through — High as its canopy, Pure as its blue. ONLY ASLEEP. *IS only a year, you tell me, But one little year ago, Since they laid in my arms the baby, And — well it was mine you know ! And the buttercups, and the daisies On the green grassy meadows grew; The flowerets waved wild on the hillsides. In lily white, purple, and blue. 26 ONLY ASLEEP. Pink blossoms trail'd deep in the wild wood, Where dim, solemn shadows slept; Around the pools in the rocky glen, The litchen and ivy crept. Dense was the green of the lofty trees. And the verdant moss in the dells Where fairies dance to songs of the breeze. Were bordered with pretty blue bells. I wedded my love in the morning, While the dew on the flowers shone. And we dwelt in a cottage, vine wreath 'd, With orchard and field — -our own. O, the world stretched beyond us smiling, In green, gold, and purple hues laid ; Our love seemed to touch with its glor}^. The verdure and sunshine and shade. But the charm was most rudely broken— For purpose of good it may be ; When they left me with only a grave — Only a grave and the baby. So the glory and brightness faded : I knew he would never wake; Yet I learned to live for the baby, — Yes, all for the baby's sake. r£js oil Ko. 2? feut my heart has been wholly broken, For purpose of good it may be, — they made, yes,- made another grave For my little one — my baby ! Are you gone from my love, loved ones, There in the cruel grave so deep. At the foot of the hillside lying? — O not dead, but only asleep! YES OR NO. #'ER the hill's the dawn is breaking, Pink and "gold enwrapping blue, Wide the sea-waves glint and sparkle— "Will you, love, be false or true?" Ah! those words, so lowly spoken One fair morning by the sea, And the vows so lightly broken, Linger, memory, yet with thee. We were pledged, but ah! we parted- Time and tide divide us yet; Do we love and broken hearted Seek life's sorrow to forget? 28 A SUMMER SCENE. Do we walk aside and lonely? — Is the hearth-side dark and chill ? Do we watch for one face only? — Do we love as truly still? Or, hath time the feeling blunted That our hearts knew years ago ; — Is the fair plant warped and stunted, Tell, I pray you, yes or no? A SUMMER SCENE. i^WIFTLY the placid stream gliding, gliding, (^ Curves on its way, Whilst stemmed leaves on its breast riding, riding^ Sink with the day; The shore with its green trees pictured quaintly In depths of blue. The west all aglow with pearl hues saintly — Idealic view. Brightly the sunshine streams golden, golden, Mellows and falls, With the ling'ring glory olden, olden, Which oft enthralls. A SUMMER SCENE. 20 Far o'er the verdant lands paling, paling In mystic haze, Ivied tower, sculptured arch veiling, veiling In heavenly blaze: The waters' fair bosom tinging, tinging — Ruby and rose, And by the low shore's fairy-like Iringing Softly it glows; In the far west fading, sinking, dying In slow decades, The oncoming twilight lying, lying — Violet shades. * Form, feature, beauty, shade, sweeping, sweeping Softly away. Grim night from her covert leaping, leaping. Quenches the day ! Yet forth from the darkness springing, springing Glory unfurled. The moon, gemming the stars, flinging, flinging Light on the world! FAIRY FROST FAIR. ^^HE dwells on the mountain and sports in ^Y the wildwood, And sings in the breezes 'that sweep wildly by ; The dews of the morn are the joys of her child- hood, When froze on the heart of the roses that die. She joys in the storms of the wild wintry weather, And plays with the snowflakes that eddy and whirl ; And she and the North Wind go riding together, Their banners of ice o'er the world to unfurl. She smiles to the stars when the moonlight is beaming, And radiant they glitter for Fairy Frost Fair ; She sets all the woodlands in ice laces gleam- ing, And pencils the earth with a beauty most rare. How gladly she chains the wild flow of the tor- rent, And ices the breast of the swift-gliding stream, (30) FAIRY FHOST FAIR. SI Enriching the shores as she floats down the cur- rent, With fair incrustations like diamonds that gleam ! She carves strange devices ere dawn of the morn- ing, In garden and bower, and over the pond. The windows of cottage and palace adorning With fretted work traced by the touch of her wand. Cold, cold is her reign, and her beauty long lingers, While Winter sojourns in the depths of the vale, But unseen the trace of her white, fairy fingers, When Spring, like a song bird, is heard in the dale. MIDNfGHT REVERIE. jftO the dead speak or are they, ever near? ^ Do their dim shades people the darkened hall? Do they leave their solemn secrets with us? Do they fathom ours and ever keep watch Untiring o'er us? Do they know our deeds, And seek us in the lonely hours of night And pass the very doorways of our hearts? From far beyond the stars, say, do tbey come? What mysteries encompass them about? What element doth veiF their unknown home? Where art thou, habitation of the dead? far celestial sphere intangible! From out the nciists that blind us if did we Stretch forth our hands to greet them and to know. Would we but find a void and nothingness? From whence did every atom fall that lies Heaping the world whereon all beauties grow? And doth the light of moon and starbeams fall On other worlds and scenes as fair as ours? (32) MIDNIGHT RE VERIE, 33 And whither blow the night winds? Are they free? Do they breathe the- sacred balms of heaven? Say, do they feel the furies of the storm? Do they fear the wild, dead waste of deserts? do they breathe the sorrows of the pines, And know the mysteries of the ocean caves ? What are ye, and from whence and wherefore, Life And Death, ye things immutable and strange? The hidden fount that flows, doth bear thee. Life Within its course :— Thou art the principle Whereby all Nature can her gifts bestow. Thoa art the thing, Death ! whereby we know That life is endless and eternal, for In life we die ; in death alone we live FOAM OF THE SILVER SEA. STARRY night and the moon's soft light, &^ these have a charm for me, But I call thee blest, and I love thee best, foam of the silver sea! Thy writhing pure, doth my soul allure And I long in thy floods to be On the shore thy kiss, and it meaneth bliss, O foam of the silver sea! Thy murmuring voice makes my soul rejoice, Yet alone it can sigh to thee For thy sweet echo's tone in my heart is known, O foam of the silver sea ! Did my spirit roam, O thou whitest foam Couldst thou bring it back to me? In the deep thy tear, on the shore thy bier, foam of the silver sea! could ever mine be as dear as thine. Could my love be as dear as thee? In the silver swell let thy sad voice tell, O foam of the silver sea ! (34) IN TEE SUMMER, 35 Have I woe like thine ? Hast thou woe like mine? For thy tone seemeth sympathy That thrilleth my soul, at thy inward roll foam of the silver sea! The monotone of thy sighing lone, Say, is't of my soul the key? In the silver swell, sweep in and tell O foam of the silver sea! IN THE SUMMER. RIGHT the bloom of leaf and flower In the summer's glow, Scenting sweet the woodland bower Where the zephyrs blow. Lilies pale and fragrant roses Bloom and fade and fall. Wealth of bloom the vine discloses On the garden wall. 36 ly TEE SUMMER. On the rocks the ferns are growing In the woodland shade; Rapid streamlets clear are flowing Down the verdant glade. Golden o'er the hill and meadow Falls the sunlight down; Mile on mile of light and shadow- Clover, pink and brown. Buttercups and starry daisies Sprinkled down like rain, Hawthorn sweet and cobweb laces In the grassy lane. Glory all the wide earth over! On the summer sea Balmy breezes for the ,rover — Happiness for me. Music of the brook and river — Music of the birds — Reeds and grasses wave and quiver- Have they need of words? THE LONG AGO. i| TRACE them, I trace them T^ In the fire-light's rud(iy,glow — Pictures, O so tair and radiant — Pictures of the long ago. There are scenes so well remembered, ^ hen youth's pleasures all were mine ; When the flowers of spring were growing, In the days of " Auld Lang Syne." Fancy paints dear faces dimly, When the embers, glowing red. Cast their flickering beams about me, Bringing memories of the dead. Memories sweet! O these are broken Links in love's magnetic chain. That to life and hope hath bound me, Tho' I mourn the dead in vain! In the fading light up- springing, Love, a mystic vision glows ; But a shadow swift up-slanting, The rare picture overthrows, (37) 38 SOM£: i)AY. Backward, backward, o'er me thronging, Memory's pictures fade and glow ; Hopes, and joys, and faces, sinking In the mists of long ago ! S03£E DAY. *^|rIKE the petals of the roses ^T Wafted by the winds of fall. Life's fair garlands fade and scatter O'er the paths of one and all. Life's a fitful, fevered journey, In the sunshine — in the shade, But its landscape glows before us, All in softest beauty laid. Yet the picture oft deceiving, Far too fair and bright doth gleam. And the even shades veil over Beauties vanished like a dream. Winter snows drift down about us, Flowers dead lie buried low, — But in spring new blossoms fragrant Bright shall bud and blooming grow. SOME i) AT, And deep hidden 'mid the greenlands In the heart and memory shrined, There are blossoms rare and fragrant Born of thought and feeling kind. Lives are threads, inwoven, tangled, Why not weave more brightness in ? We have need of something sunny As we trudge and toil and spin. Let us join the song and laughter, And be merry while we may, AW the world is passing with us — It will all be done — some day! THE STAR OF HOPE, RIGHT star of heavenly hope, star of the morning, Shedding thy beams over mountain and hill, Guiding my soul and my pathway adorning, When the night falls, sweet star, shine on me still. Though thy clear light ever joyously hailing. Sorrow may come to me clouding thy ray. Yet will I watch for thee, faithful, unfailing. Until thy light again gladdens my way. Precious star radiant, faltering never, Star of unfading hope, priceless and dear; Would I were nearer thee ! bathing forever In thy pure, precious light, how could I fear? Clear gem of happiness, radiantly gleaming, Mellowed so tenderly, sweet star, divine. Whilst thy light over me undimmed is beaming. Light on my spirit shines like unto thine. (40) A TRIBUTE TO NATURE. 'HE apples are ripe in the orchard, Tom, And the grass by the brook grows green ; And the tall wheat gleams in the rolling field, And the hill is a very queen: With her green banks dress'd in the summer's best Of blossoms, grown fair and bright; And her high-top round, hj the sunset crown'd In a royal blaze of light. We're in debt to old Nature, of rev'rence, Tom ;- (How wondrous the change of the seasons round !) I vow she's a genius ! — The goddess fruition ! What does not up-spring from the dull old ground ? The river lights glow in the twilight, Tom, And the hillside is growing gray; And the stretch of wood by the village road, Lies so dark and still ! and the day (41) 42 TO A FRIEKD. Rides far in the west, like a saint at rest On pillows of rose and gold; Now she sinks afar, and the evening, star Glides in on the night's dark fold. So we go on to eternity, Tom, And what shall be ours in the unseen land? Ah ! Nature's a loving mother, and wise, If only her children could understand! TO A FRIEND. 'HE soul hath fitful dreams — Full many — thus it seems: Who knows the inmost craving of the soul? flowers, most rare and sweet, O beauty incomplete, Fate ever slips beyond one's own control. We dream of that to be, — Perchance I dream of thee; We gaze down life's long vista in alarm. Of all that's fair and good, OVBR THE SEA. 43 There's little understood, But in. the living presence lies the charm. Ask not, soul, but give ! So may we learn to live, And twine the long, hard lines of life with flowers. When soul to soul may speak, What higher would we seek? thus in heaven are spent the golden hours. OVER TBE SEA. Ij" WATCH from my casement window, ™^ A barque on the billows ride, For it bears away, for many a day, My sailor from my side. I watch from my casement window. The foam on the waters blue, And each rising crest, from the gorgeous west, Glows bright with the rainbow's hue. I watch from my casement window, In the twilight's purple glow — 44 OVJSB THE SEA. Watch the evening star, but the barque's afar With my sailor love, you know. I watch from my casement window, While the moonlight's on the sea. For I'm waiting there, in the beauty lair, For him to come back, you see. I watch from my window ever, At eve and at early morn, But mjf^eyes are dim, for I think of him. And I'm sorry and forlorn. I sigh while I watch at even, The lights on the distant lea, I weep bitter tears o'er the weary years Ere he will return to me. ****** I watch from my casement window. And my hopes are pure and sweet. For the barque's in sight, in the morning light, Where the sky and the waters meet. I watch from my casement window, A barque on the billows ride With my eailor true, I am glad, are you? For I am to be his bride. THE EMERALD ISLE. iHILE o'er our land the stars and stripes Float freely, far and wide, Oppression holds an iron sway Upon the other side. While triumph here can proudly face The coming of the foe, The Emerald Isle sinks 'neath disgrace, And eats the dust of woe. Why boast of rugged heights or fells, Of beauteous lakes and streams? Poor Erin's breast no longer swells To music — but in dreams. Then up, dear Freedom— Liberty— And haste to Erin's side. Her cup of agony remove, And save a nation's pride. Let Justice crush beneath her heel Bold Tyranny and pain ; The way of happiness reveal; Let toil no more be vain. (45) 46 ONLY. Hail! Freedom, list to sorrow's call! And grant her plea — release — Till proud shall wave from hut and hall The olive branch of Peace. ONLY. #NLY a cottage nestled Under the hill, The roses climbing over The window sill. Only a baby's cradle In on the floor; Only a mother watching Out by the door. Only a sweet face nestled Daintily there; Cradled only a baby With golden hair. Now a child in the doorway. Watching the sun. Or in the pretty garden, Learning to run. ONLY. 47 Then a boy on the hillside, Happy at play, Sports while the golden sunrise Wanders away. Then a pupil in school-room, Knowledge to gain, Girding life's armor nobly — Will it be vain? Then a youth on life's highway. Earning his bread ; Then a man in life's battle Bowing his head. Onward to life's last sunset — Onward he goes, In the low-lying valley Finding repose. Was it for truth, or glory? Was it to shame? Who can tell us the story? What was his name? THE TREASURES OF LIFE. SPHERE are pearls of Truth and Wisdom, >r There are palms of peace and joy ; There are flowers of sweetest beauty Which time cannot destroy. But where are these treasures hidden? where is the garnered store? Will they fall to each unbidden? When ours, will we yearn for more ? There are founts of wondrous knowledge, There are waters deep and clear, There are gems and sprays of lilies — Bright things that the soul holds dear: Sweet anthems of truth and glory. And mines of the purest gold. And joys of the heart the sweetest That on earth have e'er been told. But where do they lie unheeded — Joys,^ beauties, that oft we miss? (0 spurn not a homely treasure For want of a higher bliss!) (48) TBE TREASURES OF LIFE. 49 And how shall we come upon them ? Through a dim and trackless wood, — Where the trees in the high winds murmur,— Low breathing of endless good?— Or far on the towering mountain? Or in other lands apart? Or out on the rolling prairie? Or just here? Or in the heart? In the paths of truth and honor, There are angels pure and high, Who circle the brow of manhood With garlands that never die! There are hills and by-ways stretching Far, far on life's clouded way, But the rock-hewn steeps are gilded With the sunset's brilliant ray. Then let us on! If we falter, Hope, fair as a star above, Shall shine over Death's cold altar— A token that God > Love! BABY ED'S PRAYER. Y the window Lame Hal often Sat the whole day long. He was — so pale and weary !— Never had been strong. How he longed to join the mirthful, Happy boys outside! — Longed to tread the fields and meadows, Sunny, green and w^ide. But he longed in vain : these pleasures Were to Hal denied: (We who have good health should ever By its laws abide.) Baby Ed was fat and dimpled, — Rosy, full of fun; Bright and fair; — a mischief-making Winsome little one. To Hal's side Ed oft would patter, Lean against his knee, Prattle, coax awhile, or question, "Won't you pay wis me?" (50) ^A^r ED^S PRAtEU, dX Hal one day made feeble answer, Said "1 cannot play: Now be quiet: — I'll play with you On some other day." Baby Ed in sudden sorrow Hung his curly head, Patted Hal with chubby fingers While he, lisping, said : "I's so sorry — tan't be noisy, Don't know what to do. What's ee matter wis you bruzzer — Is you sorry, too?" "Yes!" said Hal, "I'm tired andsorry — Hal is sick you know; And I wish that I was better So that I could go Out through all the summer weather In the fresh, pure air. I wish 'twas always summer, Always bright and fair!" Up-spoke Ed with quick decision, "Tell you what I do; Ma says Dod will answer payers, I will pay for you." 52 BABT. In a trice the child was kneeling, Bowed his baby head, Then his sweet voice broke the silence, These the words he said: " Pease Dod, dive Hal all him wishes, — O how glad he'll be ! Ed don't want Hal to be sorry. Make him well like me." Happy Hal ! that prayer was answered. At the dawn of day, To the realms of fadeless summer, Passed his "soul awav ! BABY. ABY 'neath the sod lies sleeping, Green the grass about her tomb. Sweetly and for aye lies sleeping, She is far beyond death's gloom. She has passed the shadowed portal. Entered in the realms of Day, And her blooming soul immortal Dwells in lands of joy away. ASP IB Al ION, 40NTENTMENT may dwell in a valley, Aspiration tents on the hill; But if we would sit on the mountain, We must climb and climb with a will. Some high purpose ever before us— Life's work ever willing to do— We cannot afford to be cowards, We aim to be steadfast and true! To be ever kind and forgiving, And upright, and noble and strong ; Brave hearted and earnest, and tender, And faithful; and guiltless of wrong. The banner of freedom floats o'er us — That boon which so dearly we prize- Then let the free spirits' endeavor Be pure as the blue of the skies! 0, cherish as precious and golden All emblems of virtue and truth; For these are as gifts from the angels To rouse the ambitions of youth! (53) 54 OUR DARLING. O, cherish as precious and golden All beauties through life that you find; For practice makes perfect, and every Resolve adds new grace to the mind ! OUR DARLING. ^felSS the pale lips of our darling, ^Y' Clothe her form in spotless white, Clasp her dainty hands together, For she lieth dead to-night. Brush the tangled, silken ringlets From her beauteous, waxen brow. Touch her cold hands lightly — lightly, Darling is an angel now. Gently — gently lay our darling In her narrow coffin bed, Gently — ^gently twine the rosebuds In a pure wreath round her head. Lay a wreath of blossoms fragrant At her tiny, shrouded feet, Where their odor faint may mingle With the rosebud's incense sweet, OUR DARLING. 55 Farewell bid the loved forever Stand around her bier and weep, Kiss the pale lips softly— softly, For our little one's asleep : Kiss the eyelids closed forever, Kiss the dimpled cheeks so white, Ere they shut the sweet face ever From our longing, yearning sight Slowly bear our loved forever From our lonely home away. She will wake on earth, never, She hath found a brighter day ! In a lowly grave she lieth Cold beneath the grassy sod, But her spirit fair, immortal Dwells in realms of bliss with God. A DAY IN THE WOODLANDS. HAT a delight, when the sun shines bright, And summer is kissing spring, To gather flowers in the woodland bow'rs Where blithely the wild birds sing. The brooklet flows where the wild flow'r grows, And bright and clear is the stream; The young fern nod o'er the mossy sod Whilst they of the fairies dream. The scene is fair, and the balmy air Is laden with fragrance sweet; The waving trees, and the honey bees The sun with low murmurs greet. Far in the sky, see the clouds float by Like islands of gold-capped snow ; Down o'er the grass see the shadows pass As out from their haunts they go. Then haste away on this perfect day — Rejoice in summer weather ! For blessings given are gifts from heaven For each and all together. (56) LINES ON AN ENOEA VING OF LITTLE BED RIDING HOOD, CHARM lies even in thy name, Dear little maid ! To thee the children of fame Have homage paid. The sweet grace of thy tender years Makes potent the spell Hallowing thee, for guilty fears Far from thy breast dwell. Innocence writ on thy brow — Its clustering hair. Waving o'er it as now, Makes thee— how fair! The soft glance of thy lifted eye — What thought made it so ? Type of the morn— the summer sky, Child, thou'rt blest, I know, (57) THE TEMPLE OF THE HEART. OTIVES good or bad that move us, Hopes with wliich we would not part, Each are burn, and all are cradled In the temple of the heart: — In the temple,— sacred temple — Where the gem of love lies shrined, Where the germ of wisdom slumbers, — Attributes to heaven that bind. View the scenes of bounteous Nature, All are beauteous, chaste and fair; And her temples — perfect temples — All a touch of glory wear. But are we who feel the grandeur, Perfect thus in every part? Is there no unbeauteous prospect In the temple of the heart? Are its walls with bright thoughts gilded, And with fairest pictures hung? Are its aisles full heaped with treasures That we search at will among? (58) THE TEMPLE OF THE HEART. 69 Or are we too weak to gather Of life's gems a plenteous part ? Ah! beware what stores you garner In the temple of the heart. Do we wreathe love's (lowers immortal — Twine them 'round the shrine of good? Do we prize the gifts of heaven Quite as dearly as we should? Are we upward ever striving — Striving for the better part? Are our spirits strong within us? Search the temple of the heart ! OLD AND NEW. DOLEFUL sound, the chime of midnight bells, Sadly echoing linger their farewells, While on his wintry couch the Old Year lies And 'midst the mournful music droops and dies. The golden morn no more shall hail his rise, Nor seasons spring for him in fairest guise ; Th' unblotted page by Time to Future lent. He ne'er again shall scan with figure bent; Nor record trace of each fast fleeting day — The record of his advent and decay :— Nor tears regretful spill in more regretful thought. To view the ruin in his childhood wrought, Whose brightest hours in careless freedom~passed, Proved waste and forfeit of his hopes at last. O blotted record ! most bitter tear ! Commemorizing many a wasted year — Ye things of sorrow, haunt not now.the .true, Be blasted, old year, in a brighter new ! (60) A BIT OF LOBE. |||F man ty Wisdom would attention give, f ^ He soon might find the truest way to live; Strong in his z^^al, with virtue for his friend, He could not fail her laws to comprehend: Peace at his couch, an angel comforter, Vouchsafing all that he could ask of her ; The field and bough each each yielding to his board, That bounteous fare by toil and prudence stored^ For deems he sweet that labor yet his due, Which, shared with love, brings angel bright- ness, too ; Content with that he hath, yet pities woe, And finds a part on others to bestow, Benevolence doth crown him, and his eyes Discern afar the peaks of Paradise. Aye! power may boast, and lordly men may rule. Each crowning wealth his king — himself the fool- But angels pass these monarchs and their thrones, To gather up the dust of virtue's bones. (61) A FRAGMENT. MN what fair sphere, remote, first glowed that f^ gem Immortal— priceless— wliich the soul holds dear ; The pure and radiant gem of love — God's gift, By which all things are purified and blept ? Sweet Love ! Thou angel guardian of the soul ! We may not lift the veil of mystery That shrouds the fair, far island of thy birth, From whence came with thee white-wing'd purity, And bright-eyed joy, and blisses infinite. And seraph symphonies, and holy dreams, With rapture such as shines in angel eyes. earth-bound soul. Love spans the arch to heaven ! And if thou wouldst her treasures make thine own, Go to the rose, her fragrance sweet inhale. The light, the balms, the dews ambrosial spilt From heavens high blue, she hath imbibed ; she lives Fed at fair Nature's fount. Go to the rose, — Go, and Love's perfect rest there shalt thou find. (63) IN THE LONG AFTER YEARS. #DEAR be the thought that fond memory carries Beyond each to-morrow — its pains and its fear?, There's balm in remembrance, a sweetness that tarries, O who would forget in the long after years! O sweet be the song that perchance shall remind us Of bright days and pleasure, of sad days and tears ; pure be the hope that shall fade not behind us, But bloom brightly on in the long after years. O prized be the flower that e'er shall betoken The bloom and the wither of life's fairest day; O prized be his heart whose love vows are un- broken In the long after years that follow life's May. (63) 64 THE SCOITISH LOVER'S LAMENT. Will not all these lead to the faith we regret not, Which stillefh the tempests within us that roll, Giveth joy unto him who hath learned to for- get not. And bringeth him on to the bourne of the soul? TBE SCOTTISH LOVERS LAMENT. ^y*HE lowlands were thick wi' the bloomin' ^ heather. The sun kissed the rose — 'twas in summer weather When Gracie and I roamed alang together — My ain love was Gracie Laguire ! Ah ! that was full mony a lang year ago, Ye canna guess how lang it seems, that I trow; But the grave-stone white i' the kirk yard will show The sweet name O' Gracie Laguire. THE SCOTTISH LOVERS LAMENT. 65 Sic a woesome sight for a lover to see, An' aft i' the dark did I wish for to dee, When shipped on the ocean afar frae the lea — Afar frae sweet Gracie Laguire. Ah ! nane ither maid was sae bonnie or ffiir, The sky's blue and gold matched her eyes and her hair, An' wi' her^ sweet ^love I could na wish me mair, Sae faithfu' was Gracie I.aguire : Sae winsome an' true; yet in silence she lies Aneath the cauld clay wi' her face to the skies ; I canna forget her blue love-lighted eyes — Come back to me Gracie Laguire I I brave fearfu' storms on the wide rolling sea. But lightsome seem all its dark perils to me, An' aft I lang sadly to lie doon and dee, An' rest wi' sweet Gracie Lasfuire. (6G) LIFE'S FADIKG HOURS, 'HE sweet bells of memory, \^'ith a musical rhyme, Like the perfume of flow'rs Down the fair slopes of time. Steal soft to our senses While Hope's happy bow'rs Glow with blossoms of promise In life's fading hours; But the shadows are falling — Hope's promises too — Like the fair flowers that scattered When winter winds blew, Like the rainbow that arched 'Mid the swift summer showers. Are sinking and dying With life's fading hours. The clear bells of memory With a sorrowful chime. Echo down the steep hills That we wearily climb; In the wild intonation, The long buried years Seem living again o'er their Joys and their fears. LINES TO A LADY, 67 Life's sun is declining— They echo no more, Earth's glories have faded — The journey is o'er ! sad to the heart Is the death of the flow'rs, And hopeless is trust In life's fast fading hours. s^--. LINES TO A LADY, |1 ATH nature strung within thy breast, 13 A chord that wakes to thrill With voiceless music and unrest, Thy being's depths so still? And canst thou hear in music's tone A voice that bids thee flee, And in the night's deep shades alone Seek unseen things— be free? Or, doth within thy soul a fire Volcanic burn and glow, Thy mind deep urging to aspire To that thou mayst not know? 68 SONG. What mortal eye can pierce the skies, Or search the seas that roll? Who here can know the mysteries — The magnitude of soul? Unclouded be thy spirit's day, Each kindly grace "be thine, With hope and joy about thy way. Like blossoms sweet to twine! A kindly fate impel thee on, And light thy soul be given, With wisdom's sweet fruition, — won When thou shalt rest in heaven! SONG. 'ONG years have passed since first we met '' Beneath the linden tree, But while I live I'll not forget The words he said to me: *'0, by my faith, sweet maid," he said, "And by thine eyes of blue, I pledge my heart's deep love," he said, "To thee, so kind and true." SONG. Close by the singing brook it stood— The dear old linden tree; There while the sun set by the wood, He pledged his love to me. And oft where sweet the wild-flowers grew, We watched the clouds afar, And saw the heavens' glorious blue Pierced by the evening star. Too swiftly fled those happy hours— I oft recall the scene— The dim wildwood, the summer flowers, The brook and meadows green. We wandered to that fertile spot Full oft and many a day, 'Twas there he said "Forget me not When I am far away." Now far away my lover lies Beyond the deep, blue sea. And all in vain my spirit cries Come back, come back to me ! But hope serene paints promise bright In sunset clouds afar— We yet shall meet in realms of light Beyond the evening star. MY ANGEL. 2| N pain or strife, close by my side, T^ A glorious angel stays, The current of my life to guide, With hope to crown my days. Oft from the drear and clouded night. With dreamlike fancies born, Upon my vision warm and bright Gleams forth a radiant morn : — W^ith dream-like fancies, faint and fair, Like rose-hues blent with snow, — Etherial beauty traced in air, Before me passing slow. Life's varied scenes before me pass By fanc}^ wrought so fair, They seem reflections veiled in glass. They fade — they are not there. But lo ! the heights of Paradise M}'' angel paints above, I follow him with wistful eyes. His name — his name is Love. (70) LOVE'S MESSENGER. 'LEAR streamlet babbling thro' the wood, I'd hush thy music if I could, For fear yon bird in tree-top tall, Will answer nothing to my call. O song bird, stay thy flight, I pray ! My love is waiting far away ; Sweet song-bird, be my messenger, And bear love's fervent wish to her. say i long her face to see, And ask her if she thinks of me When by the light of evening's star, She traces fairer worlds afar, Where cometh not the burdened day, Where hope's fair blossoms ne'er decay ; Where Love 'mid vernal fragrance sweet. Serenely dwells in bliss complete. bright bird, be my messenger — My heart's love bear afar to her, And tell her that the violets blue. By which she pledged her love so true, Are grown in clusters thick and sweet Along the hollows at my feet; (71) 72 LOVms MESSENGER. And take this bunch — 'twas plucked for her- And whispering low, sweet messenger, Say that her name I oft do bless; Say, that with kiss of love I press These violets that to thee I give. And that I pray we each maj^ live To greet as when we parted — true — By token of the violets blue. And if perchance she h,eeds thee not. Thou mayst believe I am forgot — But nay ! I trust my love, bright bird. Go give my message, word for word. And mark the love-light in her eye, And heed if she but once may sigh ; Then backward wing thy flight to me, For I shall wait, bright bird, for thee ! INVOCATION TO NATURE. ^ING to me, sing to me, green, swaying trees, ^ What are ye whispering low in the breeze? Sing of the glories of summer's bright reign, Promise to bring me her pleasures again. Over the hills where the grasses grow green, Fragrant are blooming wild roses unseen; Blow forth your perfumes, flowers most rare, Scent with wild sweetness the life-giving air ; Bring to me, bring to me, purest delight. Teach me to learn from thy beauties aright. voices of Nature, wilds of my birth. Renew me thy pleasures unbroken on earth ! Arched skies of heaven, winds, and trees ! What treasures could ever be like unto these? Nature, inspire me with impulse divine. Teach me to love thee, and be ever thine! Within me waken love's highest and best,— Sweet as the blossom by night winds caressed ; Grace of the pure to my spirit impart. That from thy bosom I ne'er may depart, Till o'er my pathway Death's waters shall roll- Wash me afar to the home of the soul. (T6) THERE\S A GRAVE IN THE VALLEY. HERE'S a grave in the valley, lying far 'Yond the mountain pale with its crest of gold; And o'er it glimmers the evening star, When the clouds in the west grow gray and cold. There he lies in a slumber dreamless — deep — And the ages on, and the world may roll ; And o'er him phantoms lone vigils keep, But he waketh not, for he hath no soul! O his was a brief but happy day, For the light of love on his pathway shone; But the gnomes of Fate stole the light away, And left him in darkness, drear and lone. He died — but he died as the summer rose ; As a light that fades on a distant shore. And the wild sea ebbs, and the wild sea flows. But he will awaken, nevermore ! Let him sleep in the valley, lying far 'Yond the mountain pale with its crest of gold; And his love will come when the evening star In the distant west, glimmers fair and cold. (74) TO A LADY MUSICIAN. thee and verse at once my soul in- clin'd, I stray into the garden of the mind, Where thoughts like roses, clust'ring, half un- curl'd, Await their season in the outer world. pure as gem from cavern of the sea, Shall bloom the thoughts I dedicate to thee! No fateful secret do I here impart, But seek to reach— not win— thy gentle heart. Fain would I call upon thee, tender muse, To with poetic fire my soul infuse, That I might bear afar a tender word. As on the wing of some sweet singing bird. Whose airy pinions from an eastern shore, The maiden's message to a loved one bore. Ah ! memory comes as on the bird's soft wing, The past of melody sweet strains may bring ; And oft sweet music floating to mine ear, Recalls the strains I nevermore may hear. O rare and sweet that music all thine own. That once of love breathed to my heart alone. (75) 76 TO A LADY MUSICIAN. And surely thine to e'er those strains recall, If it remembers aught, remembers all That may have been to woo such music there — Thy heart's sweet song unburdened by a care. Yet ah ! what meshes silent fate can weave — The lip may smile, and yet the lieart may grieve. Fair flowers grace the treasures of the mind — Fadeless — with memory's evergreens entwined; The desert flower finds of its kindred few, — Who deeply love are kindred souls and true ; And midst the many if we lonely stray, Yet eyes familiar sometimes glance our way, And thus we find, — not ore to merely lend Friendship for a day— truly find a triend ! THERE IS JOY FOR THEE. INHERE is joy for thee in the singing breeze That bringeth the flowers' perfume, That maketh green all the woodland trees, And dispelleth the winter's gloom. When the heavens glow in the gilded morn All glad with birds' minstrelsy, then thy hopes with the hours are born— O then there is joy for thee ! But I dream of an endless day Most fair with eternal light, And my soul would soar to that realm away, Where ne'er cometh clouds or blight:— The land of summer, where all is well,— Where breezes immortal blow. Where in love supernal the blest ones dwell— O my spirit yearns to go! 78 THERE IS JOY FOB THEE, There is joy 7or thee in the ocean's roar, In river and brooklet's flow; There are charms "that lure on the earthly- shore, By its ties thou'rt bound below. Dark seemeth the way to the gates of death, Unknown are the lands afar; Thou dwellest content with thy mortal breath, Gazing up to moon and star. But each breath and tone hath deepen power That biddeth] my soul mount high, And Nature telleth in leaf and flower. That only the dust can die. when have perished the roses of youth, And life is on the decline, The soul awaketh to higher truth, Love, and harmony divine! IDIS. 'SB IKE a blue sea — tideless — the high -^ heavens Wrought by the master liand in bright frescoes — Rose, crimson and amber outlined in gold— A domed expaijse of splendor in- finite Illumining the beauties of a world. From beyond a dark mountain crest the sun Furling his slant rays like a banner down, Sinks low, veiled in the purple of his robe. While deep vales glimmer, fading on the sight. In a sheltered dell where the palms waving, Sing to a limpid stream of the far sea, — Where the wood-bird with a good-night carol, 80 IDIS. On tired wing flits slow to his hidden perch, There, wooed by orient breezes laden sweet, Idis, on a huge stone mossed and ivied, sits alone. By Nature tbroned, by Nature dowered with gift of beauty rare and sweet; Nor lacking soul nor sense — most won- drous fair! Gown of snowy white — semblance of the pure — The sweet grace of her spirit in her eyes, Her half-curl'd tres«^es gleaming in the light ;— These, and the soft hues of un- bounded youth, Leave but a faint-limned picture of Idis. Mortal is Idis by the fair, clasped hands, By the rare, sweet smile on the fairer face, But from the lustrous eyes the bound soul speaks !— - IDIS. 81 from those spirit wells the light beams forth In language mute but eloquent, and tells Of rarer grace yet hidden deep with- in! And in the spirit that hath felt its bond, In power relentless as the ocean wave The tide of love hath^ 'risen to be free! Ah! who would dare that heav'n-bom flame defile, Or urge that tempest but to heights sublime ! — How dark the brow that bears the brand of ill, While Love but emanates the glow of Heaven! ETERNITY, ^^URN on, thou mighty globe of God's ^Y creation — In thy matchless beauty, turn! Who knows the mystery of thy formation — Who thy length of years can learn? Shine on, thou light of ages — golden day — king, Furled in clouds and glories, shine! What army drawn could conquer thee at day-spring, Or quench one lambent beam of thine ? Uprise, ye crags and peaks of mountains hoary, Robed in solemn grandeur, rise! What hand can lift the mount, or dim the glory Of its crest along the skies? (82) ETERNITY. 83 Surge 00^ thou mighty billow of the ocean — In thy seething wildness, surge ! What hand can drag thee down, or stay thy motion — Who shall sing thy funeral dirge? Flow on, resistless current of life's river — On to death's 'cold haven, flow! What tho' in the darkness we cry and shiver — Joys eternal we shall know !