lJ(^^JTn''^T^TlWnlt,^v<•KJllUl Jfti^m n ^ I -^la^JM^fcB LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. UNITED STATES OiNlMERICA. Youthful Days OTHER POEMS R. B. McEACHERN. MARSHALL, TEXAS: JRNNINGS BROS., PRINTERS, BLANK BOOK MAKERS AND STATIONERS. fc II:TX5E2r. Acrostic 79^' A Drt'ftm I7r! A Letter in Verse 139 Aiice 128 An Epistle to Parents 153 Angel Among the Flowers 78 An Inventory: or the Family with Whom I Boarded 96 Apostrophe to Music 44 A Ramble 169 A Serenade -151 A Sermon in Verse.- 180 As Fell the Tree 41 Association 116 A Tribute of Respect 125 A Veteran of tha Cross 164 Ballad of Love 40 Bid Me Good-Night 48 Blindness 33 Burial 123 Bush's Bear .......>... 89 By-Gone Hours 17.2 Called to Rest ' 99 Change 176 Charley and His Little Neighbors 68 City of the Great High Priest 31 Dedication 3 Despair 140 Drifting Away 156 Echoes from the Harp of Isaiah 54 Emma 94 Faith, Hope and Charity 65 Fallen Aslcpp 157 Farewell to Tyler 37 Fort Hudson 116 George Neely 69 He is Gone. . ; 188 INDEX. He will Never Come Home any More 35 Holy Rest 49 Hunters of Cherokee 70 Intemperance 158 In the Day-Spring of Life 43 I Thank You for that One Kind Word 93 Jeremiah Among the Ruins of Jerusalem 51 Joy in a Southern Home 100 Julia 191 Katie T 197 La Cisne 131 Leading the Blind 13G Lillie Gammage '37 Little Fannie 130 Little Katie Mullins 136 Lines on Visiting the Grave of a Friend 133 Lord, I Come 50 Love 104 Magnolia 113 Miller Ellis 73 Miss Bonnie McD 73 Morning Prayer , 61 Morris Reagan 160 My Black Cat, Satan 74 My Dark Eyed Georgia Friend 149 My Harp and Heart 40 My Mother 118 No Name 112 Octavia 101 Ode to My First Music Teacher 106 Our Delinquents 83 Our Pic-Nic 185 Paraphrase trom Galatians 62 Paraphrase of the First Psalm 58 Paraphrase of the XLIII Psalm , . 60 Quiet Meditation 119 Rats 71 Recollections of Palestine 145 Repentance 59 Sallie of Seguin 194 Serenade 187 Sitting in Darkness 189 Song from Home 193 Song of the Odd Fellows 161 Song of the Beautiful Dream 76 stall zns to 190 Stanzas to Miuo ]i)3 Take Back the Harp 114 The Hfll of Kuclid Lodge (No. 45) 127 The Bible ]()2 The Brothel 105 The Dying Prisoner 131 The Eye 103 The Girls of Rusk 142 The Last Words of Moses C4 The New Made Grave 124 The Old Year 80 The Plaeo oi Divine Worship 109 The Place Where Anna Used to Play I71 The Prophecy 5g The Rusk Young Men I35 The Soldier's Request 135 The .''wcet Musician is No More 168 The Two Friends 85 The Two Roses 15-) 'I'he Two Sisters 7g The Vacant Hour 174 The Voice of Wisdom 103 Thou Art Gone 115 To A n Old School-Mate 183 Tol^e '..'.'.'.'..[['.'..'.'.'.'.'.'.'..'.'.'.'..'.'. 6fi To Freddie 133 To Mamie 177 To ,\Iy Pupil 120 Union Hymn 52 Verses Composed at the Grave of a Little Child 88 Wailing I65 Watehii!g 97 We Know Thee 162 We Shall Jleet Again gg Written For a Lady's Album 196 Written ill New Orleans 196 Written to thj Rusk Union Sunday School 143 Youthful Days, Part 1 5 Youthful Days, Part 11 I4 Youthful Day8,;Part HI 22 Copyright 1878, by R. B McEACHl-JRN. DEDICATION. I have written this hook witli a view to impart Cousohitiou to those of a sorrowful mind ; To the broken in spirit, the troubled of heart, To the widow, the or]>han, the poor and the blind ; And if what is recorded should meet with success In accomplishing? half it purjjoses to do, Be the good of the author, for greater or less, In proportion to that which is faithful and true. There are many who read for the sake of the rhyme, Without ever reflecting on what they peruse ; For the poorest among us have valuable time. Which they wisely improve, or in idleness lose : But the sum of the matter is easily told. And the jiroof is sufficient in every respect : We are selling ourselves for the silver and gold Of this world, while our duty to God we neglect. And to what shall the profits of all we amass, Be directed when death has demanded its own ; For the glitter of wealth cannot purchase a pass. Through the portals of death, to a crown and a throne. We shall reap without fear — if we sow as we should, And have faith in the riches of grace to preserve All our labor ; for God is iiitinitelv good. And will judge us according to what we deserve. YoLitl^ful f^liy^. PART I. Is this the sacred spot, and this the tree [free, Beueath whose spreatlinjj: houghs while young and I have so oft in summer days reclined, To weigh the future, vague and undefined — With many playmates and companions dear, Who knew not danger, nor the dread of fear ? Yes, memory echos, that in former days. These woods resounded with our childish plays; But some are ahsent who deserve a sigh^ " Mcmenfo Mori ; " for we all must die. Dear Henry Brown, the widow's generous son. Whose sands of life seemed prematurely run ; And Wiley Jones, that honest hearted youth, Appreciated for his love of truth. Sweet Mollie Bonner, too, our pride and pet. Who passed from earth and left us to I'egret, That one so amiable sliouUl die so young ; But many a heart has been by anguish wrung. And many a motlier since that time has given Her precious darling to the care of Heaven. 6 YOUTHFUL DAYS AND OTHER POEMS, Oh, what is life — that we sliould wish to cling, Where death is ruling over everything ! Say, gentle memory, can'st thou here recall The little moniitl and pleasant waterfall. The shady grove, made sacred by our lays, The playmate "Wis," conijianion of my days, The voice of Julia, tenderly endeared. And warbling Nemo, none the less revered, The clustering vines that hung above the spring ; And then the tree, where Cattie used to swing. These arms have oft embraced yon mountain pine, Around whose trunk still clings the wedded vine — As if disdaining to be torn away — But evergreens must moulder and decay. The forest trees, that stood so proudly 'round The old log court house on the public ground. Have been removed ; and few are left to tell Where sunk the bucket of the townsman's well. The Leonard grove has also felt the stroke, And houses stand where General Houston si)oke. The tan yard si)ring, that sweet resort of old, Where multitudes assembled to behold Miss Lizzie Moore, who gave amid applause The ladies' banner to the Tenii)erance cause, Has been neglected ; and the rustic bench. That stood upon the lull above the trench. No longer forms a table for the mass ; But gray-haired citizens, who chance to pass Along that way, point out the little wood. And show the spot on which the speaker stood. The "Pine log wash hole," near the Wiggins held. Where Jackson's type box doated half conceahul. Is filled with sand ; and Lang has ceased to chide HY K. H. MtEACHERN. The miscliief-makern for their merry ride. No more beside the murmuring brook we roam, Romautie as tlie forest eliikl at liome, No longer on the grassy j^hit we stand Or roll each other in the heated sand ; For life, like morning, merges into noon, And time will bring tlu' evening on too soou. Those happy hours have long since passed away, ■Each little tlower has crumbled into clay, Yet 'round the spot as fades the brilliant bloom. Its little seed shall seek an early tomb. Anil lie protected by its mother Earth, 'Till waked by sunlieams to a second birth. Thus when I pause to contemplate the scene Where Marietta, Matt and Riuie Green With Ann and Cora played in days of your, I wish our childhood could return once more. Ye, who are standing on the very verge Of man's estate, be thoughtful ere you urge Your childish claims upon society ; For there is nothing that appeal's to be More out of place, than when a youth declares His self-importance to maturer years. A tree transplanted from its native soil, Will not always repay us for our toil. Improve your minds, let I>etter judgment rule. Economize — and send yourselves to school. Oh, there are jewels which we treasure up Within our memories, like the silver cup That Joseph to his younger l)rother gave. But far more precious : for beyond the grave, We have a glorious heritage with God, And while our forms repose beneath the sod Our disembodied spirits shall ascend YOUTHFUL, DAYS AND OTHER POEMS, To Him, who gave them ; O ! our Heavenly Friend Be merciful — there we sliall meet again And sing our childhood iu a loftier strain. Yes, William Givens, let us try to be Prepared to meet them in eternity ; For youthful days, however dear they seem, Are but the shailows of a Hitting dream. Adieu my cousins John B., Joe and Belle — Long may your hearts with joyous mem'ries swell ; Long may the flowers of youth with dewy lips Kiss off old age, and laughingly eclipse Whatever change the future maj' disclose, And 1)3' each thorn of sorrow plant a X'ose. I love the jnemory of those pleasant hours. When 8allie Woolfolk used to bring jne flowers, And place them in my hands so tenderly. And tell of how she sympathized with me. Because I could not look upon them there. Or see their colors, varied, rich and rare. That i)atient one has felt the cold embrace Of silent death ; and tho' her youthful face i-^hall vxnne no more to smile on those she knew, This tribute to her faithfulness is due. The little school house, nortli of east from town, Has been renioved, the oaks are all cut down, And there is not a vestige left to show Where Ouinn presided many years ago. His pupils have been scattered far ane a child once more, And recognize amid the happy throng Of singing girls, my little sister's song ; And hear the good advice my father trieil To give to all his children, ere he died. He called the family at the hour of one. And said : " My race on earth is nearly run." And then lie gave to each his parting hand, And angels I tore him to the spirit land. Our sad, surviving mother bowed her head, And wept in silence o'er our precious dead. Till God in mercy, wiped away her tears ; And now I pray that her declining years May be sustained ; and when the time is rife To pass tlirough death into eternal life. BY R. B. MCEACHERN. 27 Oh ! niuy she have the faith to stem the tide And meet her loved ones on the other side, As Miriam wlien she saw her nation cross Tlie rajj:ing sea witliout a single loss. Surge on, poor heart, and send the hlood along Through every vein, and make her body strong ; For one ai\d sixty years have passed and gone, And thou hast faithful been, but oh, surge ou A little longer, till I take my breath, And fortify my soul to bear this death. I know that it must soon, or later, be. And then, Oh, mother who will care for me? What eys shall brighten for thy sightless one, Or who will love iiim when thy race is run? There is a providence that will protect. But often in our folly we reflect Upon the wisdom of Almighty God ; And when He makes us feel His chastening rod We murmur at the mercy He extends. And shape His kindness to our selfish ends. Oh ! when the secrets of our thoughts shall lay Before us on that Judgment Day, What poor excuse shall then be given in For this enormity of willful sin ? A potter has the power to form the clay, And shape his vessel as his fancy may Incline him in his daily task to do — And so the Lord created me and you, And if He gives to me a double share Of light, and leaves ihe other in despair— The world is but a footstool to His Tiirone, And has He not the right to rule His own? 28 YOUTHFUL, DAYS AND DTHER POEMS, Oh, yes, and tuniely I submit, because He governs all things by His righteous laws. In youthful days liow many have been cast X'pon the world, to float without a mast ; How many, poor, neglected and despised Have been bereft, and started unadvised. Without a helm, without a single sail. Without a penny or a jjrosperous gale ; And yet, the self-made man who weathers through The howling storm, and sees the azure blue Beyond the clouds, will live to find a land, Where riches shall reward tlie toiling liand. And thus it is witli those who persevere In doing well, and when tlieir works appear Before the great, inspecting Architect Who built the universe. He'll not neglect To render equal justice, and accord To each a blessing, and a bright reward. Then let us all so live, that when we come To die and leave this transitory iiome. Our aching heads uj)on the Savior's breast, Shall feel tlie comfort of eternal rest. There is a solace in the secret i)rayer, That saves the broken-hearted from despair; And when we see our dearest idols cast Like autumn leaves l)efore the driving blast. Although it costs us many a bitter pain. Perhaps 'tis done to bring us back again ; And cause our pure affections to embrace The long extended but neglected Grace, That God, in mercy, gives to those who prove More worthv of His never dving love. BY R. B. MCEACHERN. 29 As helpless bahes, we enter into life, And ere we learn to struggle witli tiie strife That sin has brought upon this world of ours, Our strength is gone ; and like the many flowers That hloom in l)eauty, on our pathway here, — We sinlv into the grave and disappear ; But youthful days, by age and deatii subdued, Shall have their joys in lieaven all renewed, And every loved one, who has gone before ■ Will meet us on that bright, ininiortal shore. ) My little barcjue, tliougii frail, upon life's sea Has struggled fiercely for its liberty ; And when the world is worn by time and tide, And generations living, shall have died, — I trust, Dear Comrades, that we all shall be With holy angels in eternity. Farewell ! It makes me sad to write the word. But while on earth my humble prayers are heard, I'll bless my friends and not forget to praise The God and Guardian of my youthful days. And must I leave this happy, happy state Of youthful joy, to share the common fate Of millions, Avho are buffetting tlie waves. That roll between their cradles and their graves? Must I exchange this freedom I enjoy. And be no more regarded as a boy ? Oh, fearful thought ! Upon the very brink Of early manhood, yet I dare not shrink, For time propels the flight of coming years. And life is mine, with all its liopes and fears. Not mine to keep, but only to improve. And whether ruled l)y hatred or by love, 30 YOUTHFUL DAYS AND OTHER POEMS, The great respousibility must rest "With me alone ; for God has not expressed His willingness to render any aid, To those who fold their hands and feel afraid. So I am not to hold myself exempt. No, T would rather die in the attempt. And have my name enrolled among the dead, Thau not to serve my God and earn my bread. The first, I own, has been neglefted most, But should he come and find me at my post, The sentinel will never be discharged. Without his sphere of happiness enlarged. Once more, farewell ! It sadly grieves my heart To write these closing lines, but we must part. My youthful day is fading in the west. My soul is weary, and I sigh for rest. The song hath ceased, and twilight hovers o'er The harp, whose silence I shall wake no more. BY R. B. MCEACHERN. 31 City of tlie G[reiil fligli 9i4e^t. A MASONIC POEM DEDICATED TO C. A. MILLER, RUSK, TEXAS. "And he ctirried me away in the spirit to a great and high moun- tain, and shewed me tliat great city the Holy Jerusalem, des- cending out of Heaven from God."— Kev. xxi. 10. I was standing alone on the beautiful side [pride Of a mountain whose summit was crowned with the Of an architect-king, and I looked and behold, Every gate was a pearl upon hinges of gohl ; And they opened to some, wliile on others they shut. And tlie former had joy and the hitter regret. Then I asked of the keeper wlio stood by my side, Wliy it was tliat so many were entrance denied ? And he said in a voice which my fancy api^roved, That the "Land marks of P\ithers are never removed." " As tliat arch," lie continued, "receives its support F'rom those columns tliat stand in tlie fivjiit of tlie So the heart that is willing, by helping to bear [court; The misfortunes of others, may lighten their care; But the mind of a man, as the surface of stone. Must be polished l)efore it is properly shown. By the aid of your language your thoughts you convey, But as language is change, and as nations decay. We have symbols and signs, which are true to their As the spirit to God, or the body to dust. [trust. 32 YOUTHFUL DAYS AND OTHER POEMS, " lu yoii valley below there are many who wait For the sign of admission to enter this gate; But the test is a hard one, and men are dismayed When they know that their merits liave first to be weighed. Though tlie eye of tlie morning is brightest in June, And the stars are eclipsed by its radiant noon, Tliere are shadows that follow the evening's decline. And the i)ass word is holy, t() portals divine! If you're i)ieased witli the vision, and would be a guest At the feast of the Master, ' look well to the West.' " "I am pleased with the vision, but tell me, I pray, What is taugiit i)y tlie morning and evening of day ? For the former revisits the earth with its light. And tlie latter is lost in the gloom of the night." " O, you cannot," he said, " with your vision ol)scure. Understand what is taught, but your life mi\y be pure. And the precepts of those, who before you have gone. As the beautiful flowers from the turf of tlie lawn, May be land marks to guide you wherever you roam, Till vou meet with the Craft in their Heavenly Home." BY B. B. MCEACHERN. 33 Slir\di]e^^. Affectionately dedicated to Miss Laura Trimble, of Rusk, Texas. This poem was suegested by hearing her describe the beauties of nature, in a conversation upon the subject of Astronomy. It is not for the flowers, uor the rippling of rills With their sj^arkling of water so bright, Nor the picturesque scenes of the beautiful hills, That I weep for the loss of my sight ; For the foliage falls from the boughs of the trees, And the flowers in their tenderness die. And their fragrance is lost on the echoing breeze. As the language of love— in a sigh. It is not for the smiles of the festival halls, Where the songs of the mirthful resound ; Nor the ivy that clings to those desolate walls. Where traditions and fables abound ; For the festival halls shall be dim with dismay. And the songs of the mirthful — be lower ; And the ivy shall wither and perish away, And its place be remembered no more. But you talk of the stars and the heavens above, And the beauties of nature and light; And you speak of sweet faces all radiant with love, And I sigh from the loss of my sight ; For the eye is the soul, and the soul is the eye, With expression too deep to compare ; And, O God, when the end of existence is nigh. Let thy comforting presence be there. 5 34 YOUTHFUL DAYS AND OTHER POEMS, Let Tliy will upon earth, as in Heaveu, be doue, Though Tliy ways I may uot comprehend, There are many that gaze on the beautiful sun, Who have never been blessed with a friend. If I pass through the world without looking on those, Who have led me along its dark sod, Let me rise out of death, as from gentle repose, To behold them as angels of God. I am nursing a grief that is hard to ecmtrol, A misfortune that is heavy to bear, An affliction that lies like a weight on my soul. But I cannot — T Avill not despair; For there's something within me, that tells me I must Be contented with whit I receive, And I know the awai«l of a glorious trust, Shall be given to thosj who believe. I am blind, l)Ut my blindness a blessing may prove; I am sad, but my sorrow shall cease In the presence of God, by the power of His love, And my journey be ended in peace. As Bartemius of old, I am trying to grope Through the crowd that is passing me by, To the Offsprhig of David, the Star of my hope. And the light of my soul and my eye. If I meet with a few in my pilgrimage here. Who are naturally cold and unkind, I shall pity the hand that can boast of a tear. It has wrung from the eyes of the blind. While the rain and the dew are permitted to fall. And the rays of the sun to descend. May the mercy of God be sufficient, for all Who gratefully call Him their friend. BY R. B. MCEACHERN. 35 Be Will Kevei' CoTr^e fioir|e This poerr. was fvcoasioned by the death of our dear brother, who was accidentally shot iu the city of Jctl'ersoii. Texas, on the 'Jlst of May, 1874. My younger brother and 1 on'.y arrived in time to at- tend the funeral, and when we retu-ned to Rusk, his mother in speaking of him said : " He will never come home any more," He will uever come home to our hearth any more, But we know that he stands on the opposite shore, In the light of the love that the gospel has shed O'er the sanctified grave of our beautiful dead ; And we feel in our hearts, as they only can do, Who have .suflfered the lo.ss of the noble and true ; But we trust that when time .shall have lightened our That the future will bring us a brighter relief, [grief We are trying to hope, while the hearse and the pall Are waiting alike for the great and the small; For the parting of friends and the breaking of ties. And the folding of hands and the closing of eyes, Are the scenes that inheritance claims as its due ; And we know that the death of our l)rother is true. May the sorrow that darkens his happiless home, Be exchanged for a crown in the life that's to come. We are trying to pray, at the foot of the Cross, For the blessing of comfort in all of our loss, And the One who is hearing our penitent prayer. Will remember His children wherever thev are; 36 YOUTHFUIi DAYS AND OTHER POEMS, In the morning of life they shall lean on Hiy arm, In the noon of the day He sliall keep them from harm. And when evening appears with itssliroud of the sod, They shall pass, hy the Avay of Mount Calv'ry, to God. We have given up all but the image of him, Who was called, by liis mother, " My dear little Jim." Out of nine of the links, only four now remain, But in Heaven we'll see them united again ; For tlie chain is not broken, so recently cleft, And tlie angels will gather the fragments that's left. And the shards which are scattered all shining shall To unite with our bliss in that glorious home, [come. We are trying to bear it, but God only knows How the current of life is so frequently froze. For the ice of the grave on our hearts has been laid. And we shrink from the sound of the shovel and spade. As a t)ird that is wounded on seeing the rude And unpitying fowler who scatters her brood ; But we know that in Heanen's eternal domain. All the weary shall rest from their labor and jiain. BY R. B. MCEACHERN. 37 3^Vewell to ¥ylei\ Farewell, farewell, ye Tyler girls. Farewell, ye pure and preeioiis pearls ; Farewell, and when the evening throws A twilight shadow on the rose. That, blushing, laves itself in dew Beneath the stars, I'll think of you. The Providence that guides nie on, Will be to you when I am gone, A faithful and protecting friend ; And when my fervent in-ayers ascend, For Blessings o)i my Choir and Baud, I'll tliink of you and J. T. Hand. Some advocates become our foes ; But there is not a leaf that grows Upon a tree, that will comi)are With one precisely like it there. Thus, while in common men agree. They differ in their constancy. On Sabbath morning, when you meet To mingle all your voices sweet. Though strangers fill the vacancy. That once was occupied by me. They cannot prove themselves more true Than I shall ever l)e to von. 38 YOUTHFUL DAYS AND OTHER POEMS, And when the opening hymn is sung, And music with its silver tongue. Has softened every loving heart, O, breathe a silent prayer apart For one whose voice, in former days. With yovu's was heard in songs of praise. At midnight, when the bands parade. And all go forth to serenade. Remember that the stars above. Are shining down on those you love, And with a heart-warm sympathy That knows no change, oh think of me! How long shall this protracted pain, Of parting with my friends, remain. Perhaps I sigh for some who feel But little interest in my weal ; For prejudice will pick its flaws, And persecution owns no laws. On Sabbath evenings, when they ring The Baptist bell, for those who sing, To come and take their places there, And Laura fills the organ chair, Oh, think of him whose heart is sore. Because he meets with tiiem no more. "When Ijucy died, we mourned her loss ; But she is gone to bear the Cross Before us to that sunny shore, "Where thousands dwell, and thousands more, Are marching on with hymn and palm. To sing with Moses and the Lamb. BY R, B. MCEACHERN. 39 And will we ever hear that song, Or shall we mingle with that throng, Who through their tribulation came,' And entered Heaven in Jesus' name? Ah ! yes, till death life's banner furls. There's room ; God bless the Tyler girls. The morning hour of life is l)right, But evening merges into night ; And as we view the setting sun. That emblem of the race we run. Who knows but what a sorrow past May brighten— "seen through tears at last. " Ye, who have stood, with streaming eyes And listened to the piteous cries Of loving hearts by anguish torn, And bleeding, know what 'tis to mourn. The grave may boast of temporal gloom. But living sorrow— has no tomb. It goes with us where ere we go, And follows like a fearless foe In hot pursuit, with deadly blight, And never leaves us, day or night. Oh, what reward shall they receive, Who cause the innocent to grieve. Farewell, ye Tyler girls, farewell ; And when in after years ye tell Of Charniwood, and tlie friends ye knew To be so faithful and so true, These lines may tenderly recall Some memory that is dear to all. 40 YOUTHFUL DAYS AND OTHER POEMS, Belli kd of L(Ove. 'Tis a cloudless uight, And the stars are bright, Fixed in their orbs above ; And my soul is sad, Yet the thought is glad That turns to thee, my love. In the fragrant breeze From among the trees, I hear thy gentle tone ; And my soul is sad. Yet the thought is glad That turns to thee alone. When the future seems As the course of streams That wind through sylvan dales Oh, believe the power Of this holy hour. For true love never fails ! Speak a gentle word To the passing bird. Whose song must soon depart ; For its wings of gold May in future fold More tamely round thy heart. BY It. B. MCEACHEBN. 4l S^ S'ell tlie Wee. As fell the tree— so fell the fair ; And each had life in every veiu ; One groaned, and died without a prayer, The other— hoped to live again. The body of the tree decayed Upon the spot on which it fell ; The body of my friend was laid Beneath the lillies of the dell. 'Tis sad to leave the warm embrace Of sunny life for sombre gloom ; And sad to see thy resting place, Dear, youthful tenant of the tomb. But 'round the sweet, surviving past. Some links of mem'ry shall remain Till we, on earth, have breathed our last. And love is lost in death's domain. We know that tliou hast left the scenes Of sickness and mortality. But saving grace may be the means Of bringing many friends to thee. Alas ! 'tis useless to conceal The anguish of our mortal strife; For death is wedtled to the weal Of all who breathe the breath of life ! 5 42 YOUTHFUL DAYS AND OTHER POEMS, The rich, the poor, the proud, the great, And all who live beneath the sky. Must share alike the comniou fate. And when they least expect it — die. But there is still a blessing left To comfort those who mourn their loss ; And when our hearts have been bereft, It brings us nearer to the Cross. Oh, what a glorious gift is grace ! Oh, what a treasure from above; It leaves its brightness on the face. And fills the soul with heav'nly love. 'Tis as tlie clouds that went before The Pilgrims in the Wilderness ; 'Twill lead us on from shore to shore, And bring us all to perfect bliss. Then let us patiently resign Our transient hopes when death appears ; And on the Savior's breast recline. Till God has wiped away our tears. BY R. B. MCEACHERN. 43 I^ the IDky-^piHr^^ of T^ife. In the day-spring of life, when our spirits are glad, And the myrtle and vine are with foliage clad ; When tlie juvenile age of the summer is true, And the wings of the morning are dripping with dew, Then the face of all nature looks lovely and mild. As a star to the eye, or a worhl undeflled. By the rivers, the lillies and violets grow. And the fight of the sun is resplendently seen On the tops of the mountains -all covered with snow. While the foot hills are crowned with a beautiful green. In the day-spring of life, when the l)reezes are filled With the fragrance of flowers, and the butterflies build In the jessamine blossoms that open in May, And the delicate humming bird twitters its lay. Then the friendship we cherish is free'st from guile ; And the words which we speak are repaid with a smile. Look at nature by night, when the moonbeams descend And the brilliant phenomenon brightens the sky ; And the river and ocean in harmony blend. And you feel that the music of Heaven is nigh. In the summer of life, when the days of the year Are replete with old age, and the autumn is near. When the leaves of the forest are browned with decay, And the faces, familiar, are passing away ; Then the sickle of death, in the harvest must mow. And the fast lading embers of life cease to glow. In tlie valley of death, where the shadowy wave. 44 YOUTHFUL DAYS AND OTHEH POEMS, And the gloomy pavilions of darkness are spread, Many hands we have pressed, are consigned to the grave ; [dead. And we know in our hearts, that the loved ones are In the sunset of life, when the soul is reprieved, With its talents improved, and its vict'ries achieved ; When the Great God of nature looks down from above. And the angels in Heaven are singing of love; [ed. Then, the spirits redeemed, shall with glory be crown- Where the deep hallelujahs of nations resound. Oh ! ye dark, boundless seas, that encircle the throne. And ye deep and vast preludes of nature sublime ; When the last feeble impulse of life shall have flown. May our spirits inherit that immortal clime. S^o^ti'of l^e to ^u0id. O ! music, swett, harmonious sound, Offspring of purest love divine. Thy cadence makes the heart reboUnd, And causes banished hope to shine. Thy tone is sacred to the ear. And pleasant on the moonlit wave ; We greet thy cadence with a tear. When slowly marching to the grave. Harmonious sound, seraphic tone. Endow me with celestial powers ; BY B. B. MCEACHEBN. 45 For oft I seek thee, when alone, To charm my solitary hours. Thy sweet existence is so brief, That I can scarcely recognize The melody that soothes my grief, Before its plaintive echo dies. Thus life, like music, is a breath ; For when its sad, sad song is sung. The last dear words are lost in death. And every chord is left unstrung. But who, oh ! who would be deprived Of music for a single hour ; We know the gift has been derived From Heaven, and we own its power. I often think, when I am sad. That I would like to sing away My earthly sorrow — and be glad. And cheerf'ly mingle with the gay. But when I listen to the train Of idle words I sometimes hear, I call my sadness back again And feel contented with my sphere. 46 YOUTHFUL DAYS AND OTHER POEMS, }JLy SiiiSp ^^d Seki't. When this poor harp and heart of mine Have yielded up their trust, And friends assemble to consign My body to the dust. If there is any thing I crave. Beyond my present plight. It is to fill an honest grave. And keep my record bright. Why should T fret my life away O'er what I can't prevent. Since all sufficient to the day My sorrow may be sent ? He who controls the birds that move Above me in their flight. Has promised, if I faithful prove, To keep my record bright. And though I wear upon my face The marks of recent tears, The frost of death shall leave no trace On what my soul reveres. Then let me labor to actjuire A knowledge of the right; And cultivate a pure desire To keep my record bright. BY R. B. MCEACHERN. 47 If I have wronged luy fellow -man, I know his injured cause Shall have a hearing, when my plan Of life is full of flaws. The ruined ean't support the wrecked, No more than day and night Can their vicissitudes neglect : Lord, keep my record bright. What are the motives which impel The atheist to shun The cemetery in the dell — Before his day is done? The world's philosophy can shed No light upon the tomb. And when the infidel is dead. His life is lost in gloom. How difierently the christian dies — Too confident to weep. With Heaven in his radiant eyes, . He gently falls asleep. In faith, upon the Havior's breast He lays his weary head. And, like a jjilgrim, takes his rest, And then we call him dead. But when these tenements of ours Have crumbled into clay. Our spirits, like perennial flowers. Shall bloom in endless day. Oh ! let us strive to emulate Each good example given. And meet around the Golden Gate Of Paradise, in Heaven. 48 YOUTHFUIi DAYS AND OTHER POEMS. Sid ]V[e G[ood->figl\t. Beautiful dark eyed girl of Marshall, Singiug so sweetly all the day, Can it be true, that you are partial, Partial to one that's far away ? Listen to me, my dark eyed treasure. Singing beneath thy cottage eave, Tell me the song affords thee pleasure. Bid nie good-night before I leave. Can it be true, that you remember Parting with one so long ago. Beautiful rose bud of December, Blowing above the drifting snow ? Listen, for when the song is ended, Silence will reign beneath thy eave ; Think of the heart thou hast befriended. Bid me good-night before I leave. Beautiful girl, the stars are gleaming Brightly above the world below ; Dream of the absent, in thy dreaming. Bid me good-night before I go. Bid me good-night, for I am only Waiting to take the coming train , Bid me good-night, but dont be lonely Darling, for I'll come back again. BY R. B. MCEACHERN. 49 gkdi'ed foQn]^. HOLY REST. Oh ! I have sighed to gatlier me Unto the azure dome Of yon 8tar-clad immensity, Where sorrows never come. The burthen of this lieavy grief Seems hard for me to bear, But I shall tiiid a sweet relief From all my anguish — there. What is the world to those who lay Their treasures up above ; The heart will never pine away That looks to (lod for love. Lift uj) your hearts, ye desolate, His grace to comjjrehend ; The world miiy never call you great But He will be your friend. 50 YOUTHFUL DAYS AND OTHER POEMS, LORD, I COME. A HYMN DKDK'ATED TO REV. N. A. DAVIS. Lord, with all my heart I eomc — Weary, helijles:^ ami opprest. Lonely, an! without a home, Sighing for eternal rest. See tlie tears upon my face. And rt'member all my strife: Shall I die without Thy grace? Die, so near the stream of life? I am — as a withered flower — On a dreary, dewless plain ; But I know Thou hast the power To revive my soul again. Oh ! remember how Thy son Suffered on the Roman tree. And in mercy help each one Who is looking. Lord, to Thee. God has heard thy fervent jirayer. Seen the tears upon thy face, And will free thee from the snare That has kept thee from His grace. "I will take thee as thou art. And for Jesus' sake forgive ; I will touch thy hardened heart. With my love, and thou shalt live." BY R. B. MCEACHERN. 51 JEREMIAH AMONG THE RUINS OF JERU- SALEM. Taken from the lirst chapter of the Book of Lamentations. How is the city uow so desolate, [Iviiown ? Whose streets were thronged with people widely How is she fallen from her high estate, And tributary to a foreign throne? She weepetli sorely through the silent night, And all her tears upon her cheeks remain ; Her lovers and her friends have took to tiight. And hope for comfort seems to be in vain. Judah is gone before the captor's sword In sad affliction, as it hath been willed, To be in servitude till every word Against her evil shall have been fulfilled. The ways of Zion mourn. Her solemn feasts Are unattended ; and each empty gate Swings idly open, and her sighing Priests And helpless virgins share a bitter fate. Her adversaries have become lier chief Tormentors ; and they prosper every day : The Lord hath visited lier sins with grief. And sent her erring children till away. The beauty of her daughter— is no more Than what is seen in every withered flower : , Her princes — are as harts that go before The fierce pursuer, and they have no power. 52 YOUTHFUL DAYS AND OTHER POEMS, Jerusalem remembered iu the days Of her afliietiou, all that she possessed Before the adversaries' mocking gaze Was riveted upon her envied rest. Jerusalem has sadly turned aside; And for her grave offenses been removed ; And there is nothing honorable descried In her denuded state to be approved. Her sin is plainly manifest to all, Ami there is no remembrance of her trust: O, Lord, behold how great has been her fall, And look at Zion — mould'ring in the dust. The enemy hath lifted up his hand. The heathen in her sanctuary tread ; There's desolation in the Holy Land, And clouds of wrath upon her altars spread. The starving people beg at every door ; And they have given all that they possessed To buy a little bread. I^ord ! help the poor. And in Thy mercy comfort the distressed. UNION HYMN. Hear the voice of angels pleading, Mortal jnan repent and live ; While your wounded heart is bleeding, God is able to forgive. BY R. B. MCEACHERN. 53 While the vital lanii) is Ijiiriiing' Call upon his name aloft — Still repenting', still returning, Prayers are never said too oft. Milder breezes ever blowing In a world beyond the sun. Say that streams of life are flowing, And their waters may be won. Oh ! how long procrastinating Shall we dwell in idle strife? Crowns of glory are awaiting Those who seek eternal life. Many friends liave left us weeping 'Round the solitary tomb; Other flowers in death are sleeping. Others soon shall cease to bloom. See the paths of nature guiding Rapid waters toward the main, And tlie sword of Death dividing All that we, as mortals, gain. Yet, O yet, from grief refraining. Turn and view our home above ; For the soul is weak sustaining Life without immortal love. Smoothly o'er the turbid waters Of temptation, with Thy rod. Guide Thy erring sons and daughters, And in deatli save all, O, God ! 54 YOUTHFUL DAYS AND OTHER POEMS, ECHOES FROM THE HARP OF ISAIAH. A PARAPHRASE FROM THE XXXVTH CHAPTER. I. The wilderness in solitude Sliall liave a gladsome voice ; And where the parching sands intrude, The rose vine shall rejoice. II. Yes, it shall bloom abundantly With Sharon's roses crowned ; As Carmel in her majesty, Or Lebanon profound. III. The glory of the Lord is grand Beyond what fancy paints ; But strengthen ye the weakened hand. Confirm the feeble saints. IV. O, speak to those who harbor fear, And tell them to be brave ; Behold, the recompense is here, Ahd God is free to save. The blind shall have their sight restored. And see the liunian face; The deaf shall hear the gracious word Of (irod's eternal grace. BY R. B. MCEACHERN. 55 VI. The lame shall leap upou the s«)ut Jerusalem, to Him came out," And were baptized in Jordon's tide — Save those Avho scorned the way with pride. The l)itter cup of death was sjjilt. The nnghty temi)le was rebuilt, And while the halleluiahs rung The Baptist and his brethren snug- Great God, it is to Thee we owe The tribute of all praise, S 58 YOUTHFUL DAYS AND OTHER POEMS, For '^i'hou hast blessed us here below, Aud gave us length of days. Thy saving power, to all, how sweet, Where truth and love abound ; Thy righteous judgment how discreet. Thy wisdom — how profound. Such is Thy love, all ruling Power, And mercy t'ward mankind, Tliat he, though at the eleventh hour, Who asks for grace, shall find It makes us glad to know that Thou Art with us day 'n' day ; O, help us Lord to keep our vow, And hear us when we pray. PARAPHRASE OF THE FIRST PSALM. Rewarded is the man whose heart Is free from counsels evil born. Who with the wicked takes no part. Nor sits upon tiie seat of scorn: But whose delight is in the Lord, Premeditating how to pray, Who, trusting in His Holy Word, Doth worship God fronr day to day. He shall be like a fruitful tree Beside the living streams that flow; BY R. B. MCEACHERN. 59 And blest with all prosperity, Nor lose his leaves— nor cease to grow. Uugodly men will have no name In Heaven's holy place of rest ; For they, as chaff" within a flame, Sluill l)urn, and never more be blessed. The Lord, the Holy One of all, His sacred seed on earth hath sown ; And every fruitless tree shall fall And perish from around His Throne. REPENTANCE. This poem wms suggested after liearinga sermon delivered in the Methodist chnrch at lUisk bv the Rev. J K. Street, who fonnded his di-cl" ilay, to rejKJse, So man g leth down to oblivion's urn, Forgotten by all — but his foes. Then come to my soul in a beautiful dream, On the musical wings of the night; Yes, come as a star with a radiant gleam, From the fount of eternity's light ; And if in this cold world you claim as your own One object that merit endears ; Oh ! think of the cedar tliat sluided the stone Where in childhood we mingled our tears. ACROSTIC. Following on, we're following on. Loving and longing for those who are gone, Owning with sorrow that life is a breath, Restless, and few of us reaily for deatli ; Edging the valley of shadow and gloom, Neariug the portal that leads to the tomb. Coming — yes coming, by night and by day : Everything mortal must perish away. Twilight has spriidvled the gold of the west— Under the willows to brighten thy rest; Calndy the night in its l)eauty has come. Kindly the angels have welcomed thee home Ever to dwell in their hai)i)y abode. Reigning in glory and worshipping (lod. 78 YOUTHFUL DAYS AND OTHER POEMS, ANGEL AMONG THE FLOWERS. O, henutiful spirit, among tiie tlowors, Sporting thy life away,' Live not for the love of thy njsy bowers, Which bloom but to decay. But live for a world of holier light, Shining beyond the tonil). There the glory of God obscures the night, Tlicri- plant thy fadeless l)lo(jni. O, beautiful spirit, the vine clad streams. Fragrant and fairly shown. Are passing, like thee, to a land that seems As boundless and unknown. Live for the hope of a heavenly bliss, Spirit of light and air. Nor for the love of a world like this. Thy home of weary care. THE TWO SISTERS. I know two sisters who are fair And gentle and demure ; And in their loving eyes they wear A lustre that is pure ; Pure as the light of silver showers Among the golden isles Of hai)py childhood ; and the llowers Are brightened bv their smiles. BY R. B. MCEACHERN. Their voices are iu uuisou, Their aspirations high ; And when tlieir mission here is done, They'll sing beyond the sky. The songs of angels are sublime, And as they softly come To us across the sea of time, They bring us nearer home. 'Tis sweet to contemplate the past With all its pleasant train Of tender memories, for they last VViiile life and love remain ; And when the hopes that we've pursued Are given to decay, The night of death shall be subdued, And lost in endless day. As morning rises o'er the gloom Of earth (in dewy tears) ; As vegetation casts its bloom Before the fruit appears ; So, "in like manner we must fall," In order to obtain The blessing that awaits us all. Where saints and angels reign. The transient beauty of the face Our fajicy may control, But give to me that native grace Whose merit wins the soul. Be mindful where you place your trust. There's many a storm to brave ; The idols of this world are dust, And perish in the grave. 80 YOUTHFUL BAYS AND OTHER POEMS, Sweet sisters, may your pathway be With lillies overgrow u, As eiiibleius of your purity — So iuuoceutly sliowu : And when your day of life departs, His promises to prove. May God reward your faithful hearts With everlastins; love. THE OLD YEAR. RESPF.CTFUI.I.Y DEDICATED TO 5IESSRS. EWING A HUNTER, EDITORS OF THE "PALESTINE ADVOCATE." Old year, the hour is nigh at hand : The shadows of the night have spread Thy funeral pall o'er sea and land. And time will soon ])ronounee thee dead. Yes, thou shalt die, and take thy place xVmong those crowded sepulchers, Whose adamantine walls encase The relics of six thousand years. O, what a grave of human woe ; And what a record shall there be Against us in this world below, When we are in eternity! BY B. B. MCEACHERN. SI The first was beautiful and bright : The morning stars did sweetly sing, The angels shouted with delight, To see a world from nothing spring. The second saw a lovely paii- In perfect innocence appear ; The third beheld them in despair, And marked the falling of a tear. The fourth a sadder scene relates, For jealousy, by sin's device, Unlocked the happy garden's gates. And death api>eared in Paradise. The fifth contained a promise dear, And Mercy tnade a heavenly shrine. And Etioch left this mortal sphere To walk with God in realms divine. But when the peo])le turned aside, And ceased to keep their sacred vows. The ocean poured its angry tide Around the loftiest moinitains' lirows. And then it ro.se, by tempest toss'd Above the trees, till wave met wave. And all who lived, but eight, were lost Witliin i)ne common watery grave. The years passed on, and prophets came To elevate the human race — The people laughed their (need to shame. And stoned them in the market-place. 11 82 YOUTHFUL. DAYS AND OTHER POEMS, At length a brighter star arose To comfort Judah in liis loss ; He met His fate in calm repose, And died upon a Roman cross. The blood tliat trickled from tliat tree And fell npon the rocks Itelow, Was shed alike for you and me, And only God such love can show. Behold the strength of empires jiroud And see the nations of tlie earth — Tlu'V \ anisli as a passing cloud, And die while others have their birtli. Thus, while this globe its course lias run And Aph and Perihelion made In many a circuit 'round the sun, Have men and monuments decayed. Ikit that atoning lilood sliall live Wliile generations rise and fall, For God is willing to Ibrgive, And Christ has died to save us all. Silence! the hand is pointing near — The time is almost up. Look ! look ! Oh, save us through the dying year ! 'Tis dead, and Dod has sealed tlic book. There's many a hand we've warmly prest, And many a heart that shared oiu- trust. And many a brilliant eye at rest Within "the cold and silent dust. BY R. B. McKACIll•;H^. 83 It nuikt's lue sad to c'onti'iui)late The changes which are yet to eoiiie ; But if you go before lue, wail — I'll try to meet yovi nil at home. We know not what a year may do For those we love so tenderly , lint if our aims in life are true, We shall not want for eonstaney. And wlien the last long call is nuide, That to us each shall here be given ; Oh! meet the summons undismayed. And pass through death to life in Heaven. OUll DELINQUENTS. Speak of them pleasantly, mention the same Kindly to those M'ho have eherisheil their fame Never let anger your duty pr(>vent. Many are wayward — l>ut some will re}ienl. Sin is a hollow-eyed hound of desi)air, Howling and harking at all that is fair ; Pntwling around about every one's yard. Seeking for those who are off of their giuii'd. Hiding his weapons in liottlen and kegs. Clothing the widows and orphans in ragn; Calling, in language alluring, to men, Dj"ag;fjng them down to ;) horrible hteiied and turned into s()u<.v. We were friends in tlie evening tliat l)rougiit a res})iter To the sick and the suffering and i)oor ; And you told nie of worlds, in tiie sky of the niglit, As we sat on the step at the iloor. We'll l>e friends till the friendsliip of eartli lias grown And our forms have l)een laid iu the dust ; [cold, For a heart that is faitliful is better than gold, And I know you are true to your trust. We'll be friends in that l»eautiful iiavi-n of rest, Where these tears sliall l)e wiped from our eyes ; And we'll sing with tlie angels and dwell with the Where the love of the soul never dies. [blest, WE SHALL MEpyr AGAIN. Farewell, dear friend, farewell ; It hlls my heart with pain To hear thy solemn funeral knell. But we shall meet again. Yes, we shall meet and sing A song of glad suri)rise, Where life is an eternal thing, And friendship never dies. BY R. B, MCEACHEKN. Ah, little did I think, When last we parted here, That thou wert standing' on the l>riiik or life, witli death so near. Thy fate reealleth one "Whose precious life and pure, By eruel hands at Jetterson, Was taken premature. Our loss — his o-ain may he — But in our iguoranee, 'Tis hard foi- mortal eyes to see The ways of Providence. The fountains of my grief Are full and running o'er : Thy bright career, alas, how brief! Dear friend, thou art no more. The merit of thy worth Thy loved ones shall retahi ; And when they leave this lonesome earth, Unite with thee again. 'Tis sad to hid adieu To scenes that cannot last. But after death we shall renew The friendship of the past. Ves, we slial! all rejoice, Through ages yet to come. And hear the Savior's loving voice Say : welcome, welcome home. YOUTHFUL DAYS AND OTHER POEMS, Oh, mortals, men of clay, On what do you rely? Remember that there is a day In which we all must die. Tlie hour nuiy be at hand. For ileath awaits us all ; And who among us liere shall stand Prejiared to meet the call? 80 syjnpathize with those Who need thee in their grief. That when tliy life is at its close. Thy soul mav find relief. VER8ES COMPOSED AT THE GRAVE OF A LITTLE CHILD. Let not the brazen sound of bells be heard When I am sleeping in the lonesome grave. For memory, far more sacred than the word, Can twine a chaplet for the dying brave. The air nuide solemn by the sounding bell. Brings forth a deluge of unnumbered tears ; Which like the fioods of tribulation swell, Presenting death with all its gloomy fears. Our fettered souls can rty more swift than sound, When free'd from this corporeal mass of clay. BY B. B. MCEACHEBN. 89 And through the azure vaulted skies resound The glorious promise of au endless day. Then let eaeli soul prei)are to pay the debt, Whose penalty we all must undergo; B'or every star, however bright, must set. And life itself must ebb, tlieu calmly How. The little form nuiy slowly mould away, But that immortal spark of sinless youtii Shall light the sunbeams of an eiuUess day, And add a new reality to truth. In humble verse I sing thee to repose, And breathe my eadenee o'er thy narrow bed The lily pale is struggling with the rose, And infant l)eauty sleeps among the deinl. (Jast deep your anchor on the sea of life. And soon your honest calling will appear ; For heaven is exempt from mortal strife, And Goil's eternal blessings linger near. BUSH'S BEAU. I insert Uiis poom morely ns an cxfimple of my ciirliost nttemptsnt versilifatinn. One evening on the i)ublic sciuare, When Rusk was in its i)rinie. The boys desired tiuU Bush's bear Should have a lively tinie. 112 90 YOUTHFUL DAYS AND OTHER POEMS, So all the dogs for leagueis around Were gatliered to the fray, But hruiii sat upon the grouiul And thought tliey came to play. A shaggy, yellow cur was first And foremost to assail. The hear received him hrotherl}', Because he had no tail. The second was a dog of sense, And easy to control. He fougiil tlie foe in self defense. And lost his under jole. The third was hraver than the first Or second in the strife. He fought for fame, and fared the worst Because he lost his life. At this the people gave a shout, And hissed from where they stood — The canine forces faced ahout, And made a raid for blood. It was a simultaneous charge, And as they came to blows. The chain gave way and let at large The bear among his foes. He tilled the air witli tiying tails And feet and broken ears, And ]jut to silence all the wails Of those outlandish curs. BY B. B. MCEACHERN. 91 This story (eachos us to own The value of a hear, In every towu wliere pups are grown And tists are never rare. Keineniher tliat tlie patli of life Ts filled with many houish than of i)ri(le ; With a feelinfi: sadder, deeper Thau I ever knew hefore, For a pale and voieeless sleeper Lost amid thy reckless roar. !>2 YOUTHFUIi DAYS AND OTHER POKMS, Whisper to tlio water lily — Tell tlie Avild flowers of the wood How she struggled with tlie chilly Rush of the surroundiug Hood ; For she loved tliose leaves of gladness As the solace of her gloom, And as emblems of our sadness, Let us lay them on her tomli. Never till a seed is planted Tan its real wortli be known ; Never till the heart has granted It, can sympathy be sliown. There is tenderness of feeling In whatever brings relief. And a comfort in revealing Tiie siucei'ity of grief. 1 have seen tliree sisters carried From tlie tliresliold to tlie hearse, And have tliought as each was buried That no sorrow could be worse; But the grief of tluit snrvivor Is superior to mine ; God, in mercy, O, revive her Soul, that it nuiy not repine. Be her comforter in sorrow — Be her life in every pluise ; Be tiu' snnsliine of to-morrow To tlie coining of her days ; For the glorious fruition Of a (rod-Jike sympatliy Is the meekness and contrition Of a heart that turns to Tliee. BY R. B. MCEAOITERN. 08 1 THANK vol FOR THAT ONE KIND WORD. I thank you tor that oiu' kiiul word — It is the first that I liavi' lieard .SiiR'o frieiKls hecaine so tVw : It teat'ht'S me M'heii I i*etieet Upon their coldness and neglect, That you are not untrue. ()ur noiji-hi>ors are not always known By what they say, Itut we should own And sympathize with those Who try to do the best they can, For patience iu au honest man Will overcome his foes. The sun goes down upon tlie wrath Of such as never weed tlieir path, Nor free their feet from strife ; But you possess the blessing — health. And have within your breast the wealth Of everlasting life. We know tiiat wiiat wc l)uild t(j-day, To-niorrow may l)e torn away, But all our thoughts are free. And whether written or concealed, They will return and be revealed Iu God's eternity, I saw a little floweret fade, And yet I did not feel dismayed, But knew tliat it was l)lessed ; 94 YOUTHFUL, DAYS AND OTHER POEMS, For my oxiu'rieiieo — tlioiiifh young- Has found a thought that, with tin; tongut-, Can iioViT he expressed. luconiprehensihle thou art O, mystery of the hunuiu lieurt. As darkness to tlie eye : Pavilions are thy tapestry ; And gloomy oceans form the spray That clouds thy moral sky. I've seen the hrilliant sun go down, And leave its melancholy frown Upon the cheek of night : Thus friends — Alas ! like days — dei)art, Whom I liave loved with all my heart — Great Spirit, he their light : And I will waiuler on, alone — Couteuted with the kintluess shown By others — while I live. Those who are "faithful to the end" Shall tiud an everlasting Friend, With mercv to forgive. EMMA. Emma, keep your youthful heart Free from Cupid's i)iercingdnrt. For he oft at random hurls, Wounding half the pretty girls BY R. B. MCEACHERN. 95 lu the neio-liborhood arouiui ; And 'tis, better to be drownecl — Like a kitten iu a creek — Than to be in love a week Witli a man who never tliinks Ifann will (-((nieof wliat lie drinks, I have often heard it f^aid : " It were l)etter to be dead, Than unfortunately wed, And eoini)elled to live in dread." Ennna, this may all be true, But I humbly trust that you May be fortunate enough To be guided 'round the rough Places in this world of ours, By a pathway strewn with flowers. Think, oh ! think, how much depend? On the faithfulness of friends ; And in telling what you've heard, Try to use the very word That your author first employed. Or the sense may be destroyed. And the meaiung understood Differently from what it should ; Thus, to make the matter sure, Always keep your conscience pure. Yes, rememl)er in ycnir youth How to love and value truth. So that your declining days May l)e hallowed by the i)raise And approving smiles of those Who will watch you to the close 90 YOUTHFUL DAYS AND OTHER POEMS, Of your briglit existence here, And within another sphere Bid you, as a wortliy guest. Welcome to eternal rest. There all tears shall cease to floM- ; And your loving heart will know Something of the joy they feel, Who in happy union kneel 'Round the throne in circles bright, Never more to disunite, Nor to hear the last good-bye Of a friend that's called to die ; And your soul's fruition be Life and immortalitv. AN INVENTORY: OR THE FAMILY WITH WHOM I ROARDED. There's Florence, and Alice, and Katy Rosene, And Ellie — a lively young lad of sixteen — And Bettie, and Laura, and Sallie, the gay. And Julia, and Pauline, and sweet little May ; The father and mother the circle complete ; And govern their family witli wisdom discreet. How pleasant it is, at the close of the day, To hear their sweet voices in song or at play. .Some swing on a rope they have fastened to trees. While Mamie plays " mumble the peg " — down on her And others are busy around the hot stove, [knees— ]*re])aring for those whom they tenderly love. BY B. B. MCEACHEBN. 97 No chair i^s made vacant; no shadow has come To (hirkcn the sky of their heautiful lionie. They meet witli eacli otlier around the same lx>ard And go on the 8al)hatli to hear the same Mord ; And often, assemhied together at even, They siug of tlie .Savior, and talk about lieaveu. Oil ! God, there is room ; there are mansions prepared, And many, through Jesus, Thy blessings have sliared ; • And many have prayed, and l)een answered in prayer ; Grant Thou that tliis family united may share, Encircled and saved in the arms of Thy love, The joy that is waiting the faithful above. Residence of C. A. Sterne, Palestine, June 25, 1875. WATCHING. " Watchman, tell us of the night." The hour is twelve, and we are near Assembled 'round this litter here In token of our love for one Who leaves a daughter and a son. With many frieiuls and relatives, To mourn that she no longer li\'^s. The hour is one, and now a breath Is floating through tliis room of death, And gently toying with the pall That hides her features from us all — As some good angel, kindl.y sent. To guard the pure and innocent. 13 98 YOUTHFUI. DAYS AND OTHER POEMS. The hour is two: the flouds eclipse Tlie stars, and deatli lias sealed her lips. Oh, (H)uld her ehildreu hut have iieard Tl>e aecent of one i)arting word, Before her spirit " took its flight," Thev would not feel so sad to-night. The hour is three, and all is still ; But soon, U])on yon neigliltoring hill, Tiie sounding shovel and the spade A narrow dwelling will have made; And we must watch until they lay This lifeless form Ixneath the elay. The hour is four, and still she sleeps, Wliile every ^ye its vig;l keeps; l»ut (Jod has hid us not to fear, And wiped away the last sad tear That ever shall hedew her face, And called her home to his embrace. The liour is five: the shadows break. And purple morning comes to wake The cheerful minstrels of the grove ; But silent is the voice we love. And silently we take our leave, (iod bless the liearts that sadly grieve. Ye who beside the grave have stood And seen the useful and the good Let down beneath the common sod. Oh ! lift your souls in prayer to (lod. And ask for blessings to be shed O'er those who mourn their precious dead BY K. B. MCEACKKKN. 9U CAl.I.KI) TO REST. Two littlf liaiids are tbided up, As lillirs oil tlu' l>reast of Mpriiitr ; Two littU' lips liavf drained the cup Of l)itteruess, witliout its stiiii:. Two little eyes that niiji^iit iiave heeii The lifiht ol" some devoted heart, Are taken from this world of sin, To heain in hrighter oiic-s, apart. Two little feet that never trod Upon the earth, as ours liave ""^ fl"^ future may disclose Tlie wi.sdoni and sui)reinaey Of God, in calling to repose Thy lf)ved one in its iiifaiiey. O, ye w ho lahor to perform The duties of a christian here, He faithful, struggle with the storm. And smile away the starting tear. .Suti'lay. Dor. l.'i, 18(;7. 100 YOUTHFUL DAYS AND OTHER POEMS, JOY IN A SOUTHERN HOME. There is joy in a Southern home to-night, And tlie stars are looking down With their lambent eyes, from tlie arching skies. On tlie (juiet of tlie town. There are happy liearts in that family group ; And I join tlieir glad refrain, With an earnest zeal for the brightest weal Of tlie friend that is home again. You are welcome back to the hills and vales Over which you used to stray ; And I joy to learn of your safe return, For you've .been so long away. Did you meet with friends on your Northern tour Like tlie ones you left behind ? Do they feel as near as your loved ones here. And remember you as kind? When the twilight hung o'er the crystal lakes, And you wandered forth atilusk, Did you ever sigh for the days gone by, And the dear old town of Rusk? As you glide