I LIBRARY OF CONGRESS, I |,, •pTKnns '. — I tpH' f WisM I" I I — ^^ — l^^ I UNITED STATES OE AMKUiCA ? Ml ^Vf \ 'V^.^v.' Entered according to Act of Congress, .in the year 1875, by George T. Paine, In the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington. PRESS OF RHODE ISLAND PRINTING COMPANY, PROVIDENCE, R. I. hr WE, THEIR GHILDREM, Lovingly Dedicate TO OUR DEAR FATHER TKESH Poetical Memories OF OUR SAINTED MOTHER, ^ ilr ^^ L. E. A. Died February 21st, 1874. Her life-time grew in beauty, As rounded as the rose, More fragrant far, more pure, more rare; Than any flower that grov/s. Plant asphodels above her, For Oh ! she loved them so, And heliotrope and violets, And all things sweet that blow. And Gull for her all lilies, The blooms of poesy. Her face and words in lovely life Sang sweeter minstrelsy. cs-^ ■ s Twine harp with wreath of laurel, Encircling garnered grain. The songstress crowned is sleeping now. We cannot hear a strain Of sadly singing music. List for celestial lyre, The silver string that snapped on earth Will chord in heavenly choir. L. M. P. 5^ ■ ^ ^^ ^ CONTENTS. Nothing But Leaves, ..... % The Baby; ....... 4 Baby Gem, ...... § Willie, ... ... 6 To Charlie and Walter, ..... 7 Belle's Baby, ....... 9 Rain and Wind, . 10 Our Angels, ... ... 11 The Little Children, ... i§ The Beautiful Child Jesus, . . . 14 Summer Days, ...... 1§ "AT'eary Waiting, . . ■ . .16 Western Light at Sunset, . . 18 Reply to ''The Crickets," .19 To the Figure of Time, . ■ . . . . §1 The Soul's Image, . . §S Human Love. . . * . . . §4 Up the Hill, .......§§ The Painted Chamber, ..... §7 To O. W. H. . . . . §9 To J. J. M. . . §§ The Man in the Moon, . . il Issachar, . ...... §4 Charles Sumner, .... . §§ -V -V The Poor, • . §7 An Appeal, ■■•.... §8 Pleadings. . .19 Hymn, ... ■ . . 41 „;__- Woman Suiirags. . < 41 Good Night, . . . . 4§ Greeting to Caleb Metoaif, .... 47 Welcome to Rev. A. Woodbury, . .49 '- — The Loyal North, . . §1 The Barberry, . . . §§ The Two Pearls, . . . . §>% Idols, ..... . . §4 The River of Life, .....§§ The Unknown Shore, . §6 The Street called Straight, . . .58 Hereafter, . . . . . . . §9 Baby Sleeps, ...... 60 Agnes, . . . . . .61 Paul Akers, . . " . . 6§ Col. Robert G. Shaw, . . . . . 6§ In Memoriam W. W. P. .A. . 66 In Memoriam J. C. J. . 67 :.i Memoriam C. A. M. . . . 68 In Memoriam W. M". R. . . .69 In Memoriam M. J. D. . . . . . 70 In Memoriam J. M B. .71 Rome, ... . . n ilr ^ -V NOTHING BUT LEAVES. Mark XI: 13. Nothing but leaves ! the Spirit grieves Over a wasted life ; Sin committed while conscience slept, Promises made, but never kept. Hatred, battle and strife ; Nothing but leaves'. Nothing but leaves! no garnered sheaves Of life's fair, ripened grain; Words, idle words, for earnest deeds ; We sov/ our seeds— lo ! tares and weeds We reap with toil and pain Nothing but leaves. Nothing but leaves', memory weaves No veil to screen the past; As we retrace cur weary way. Counting each lost and misspent day, We find sadiy at last Nothing but leaves. And shall we meet the Master so, Bearing our v/ithered leaves? The Saviour looks for perfect fruit-- We stand before Him humble, mute, Waiting the words He breathes— ''Nothing but leaves?" ^ THE EABY. Another little v/ave Upon the sea of life; Another soul to save, Amid its toil and strife. Tv/o more little feet To walk the dusty road- To choose where two paths meet The narrow, or the broad. Two more little hands To work for good or ill ; Two more little eyes; Another little will. Another heart to love. Receiving love again, A_nd so the baby came A thing of joy and pain. ^ -V BABY GEM. Bessie's darling, Baby Gem ! Truly call her pearl ; Would Bessie give for Orient toy, The heart all in a whirl Of joy, and glee and ecstasy, Or thousand little wiles That play like rainbows o'er her face, Whenever baby smiles ? The diamond is a gorgeous gem. Its lustre never dies ; Would Bessie for the diamond's glare, Give baby's soul-lit eyes ? A thread of gold is rich and prized ; Its woof is wondrous fair; Not for spun gold v/ould Bessie give Her baby's sunny hair. No ! emerald and amethyst May spread their lures in vain ; For Bessie and her Baby Gem Are bound with love's strong chain: Stronger than life, stronger than death, The chain by angels wrought; And Bessie's love for Baby Gem With holy joy is fraught. £7 5 cs^ -s WILLIE. Aged Eight Months. Dear Willie came with angel eyeS; And holy look of ''pleased surprise/' As if direct from Paradise. Did Raphael have him in his mind ? No sweeter could he hope to find. When painting his cherubic kind. He fills the house with sunshine-rays^ And makes the days all pleasant days, So gracious are his winsome ways. Pet names are showered on his head, And blessings floated o'er his bed, Mingled with prayers for " daily bread." W^e call him .'•'lambkin," "precious bird," And "treasure-trove," most loving word, And all fond names that e'er v/ere heard. We dare not worship, but bow down With loyal love before his throne, Love that v/ill live when time has flown. A peerless prince ! No crowned king Can more obedient subjects bring. Than they who "viva la" Willie sing ^ TO CHARLIE AND WALTER. One day the tiny baby came ; Already he is known to fame,--- Sv/eet Herbert Irving is his name. His eyes are blue as summer skies ; His cheeks are pink as blossom dyes, And, O, he looks so very wise. And smiles come rippling o'er his face, And dimples to the smiles give place, Enchanting all with infant grace. I do believe his heart has grov/n As large as m.other's, and is sown With love-flowers, which are quickly thrown To every one as he comes near, Starry and golden they appear, And each one calls him ''little dear." I think sometimes he'll play v/ith me. And climb the famous walnut tree; Chase butterflies and humble-bee. -v Exploring go to sylvan wood, To watch the squirrels hide their food, And see the birdies nurse their brood. I'll show him where the violets grow, Green moss, and daisies white as snow. And where the tinkling brooklets flow. To baby-brother I'll be kind. And if he frets me, never mind; By loving him, his love I'll find. ^ -V BELLE'S BABY. Baby Beautiful came to Belle Evermore in her heart to dwell, With love no mortal tongue can tell. Baby Beautiful spreads her v/ings; Angelic now she seems, and flings A halo o'er all earthly things. Baby Beautiful wears a smile ; A cherub sits by Belle the while, Innocence free from every guile. Benisons on the darling child! Pansies. violets, roses wild Budded and bloomed when baby smiled. Baby Beautiful ! may no tears Dim her eyes, nor wearying fears Cast their shadows in coming years. ■^ RAIN AND WIND. Foi^ GHAfiLiE, (By I^equest.) The Rain-king slowly sailing by, Saw a fairy-flower Faint, drooping in the noontide heat, Thirsting for a shower. "Aha!" said he, '^here's work for me." And softly sprLakled dew O'er leaf and bud and grassy earth, While round the birdies flew. "I'll call my brother. Wind," said Rain, "To fan the fairy-flower. He's just behind the garden gate, Sleeping in the bower." -: Then Wind came out with zephyr's grace. And kissed the winsome thing. When lo ! appeared a golden cup, A flow'ret of the Spring. Thus Wind and Rain together worked To make the King-cup grow, Then W^ind flew off to raise a kite. And Rain to make a bow. ^ OUR ANGELS. Two angels always walk with us, E'en nov/ they're by our side. One on the right^ one on the left With noiseless step they glide One has radiant starry wings. And countenance of light Wherein are mirrored all pure thoughts. All holy things and bright. Submission, patience, holy love, Devotion, charity That suffereth long, is from above. The greatest of the three. The other---see his wings, earth-stained. Are trailing in the dust. While on his brow, deep marked, you read Of envy, pride and lust, And greed of gold and orphans' wrongs. Of avarice and hate ; While every passion, every sin To do his bidding wait. -^ ^ -s He, too, v/ith music stirs the air^ A dirge-chant greets our ear,— Of virtue lost, of hope betrayed,— We shudder while v/e hear. Tv/o angels alv/ays walk with us. E'en now they're by our side; And we may choose v/hich e'er we will, Through life to be our guide. -v THE LITTLE CHILDREN. Dearly I love the children^ The little v/insome things; White-robed are they, for innocence O'er them its halo flings. I know this world is purer For children being here; They walk by faith, the children, And never feel a fear. '^'What leaves are to the forest/' Aye, daisies to the fields. And stars to heaven, are children; To us from crime a shield. Are not they of the kingdom? Burdened with sense of sin The earth-stained turn from heaven's gate,- The children enter in. -^ 'THE BEAUTIFUL CHILD JESUS. The beautiful child Jesus ! Come^ children^ come and see The wondrous beauty of his face, Its dove-like purity. 'Tis not an earthly beauty. As mortals love to trace; But holiness and gentleness Give it refulgent grace. And ever circling round his head, There is a radiant light; So, children, do his precious words Shine out through darkest night. The beautiful child Jesus! Come, children, learn to pray, Of him who taught us how to ask, Our bread from day to day. The beautiful child Jesus ! Come, children, learn to live; Like him v/ho taught us foes to bless. To pity and forgive. The beautiful child Jesus! Oh! may we live and die. Bearing his cross upon the earth. Wearing a crown on high. ♦ 14 ^ -s SUMMER DAYS. The Summer days have come again, The days for which I pined; I hear the whispering of the grass, The sighing of the wind. I feel new life v/ithin me glov/, Of holier, heavenlier birth, As I watch the flowers springing. Fresh from the mother earth. Voices I hear in rustling leaves, Voices from spirit-land; And music of the lily bells Tells of an angel band. We read.---" Our life is but a span/'' Yet, in one Summer day, I seem to live v/hole weeks and months. Beneath its gentle sway. The Summer days have come again. The days for which I pined, hear the whispering of the grass. The sighing of the wind. -^ WEARY WAITING. I^EPLY TO "SUMMEII LoNGINGS. Ah! my heart is weary v/aiting- Waiting for the May." I am weary, weary v/aiting. Waiting for the May; I would see the fresh grass springing I v/ould hear the children singing, Singing at their play. I am weary waiting, weary For the Summer day, For the many-tinted flowers. For the leafy, greenwood bowers, •Bowers bright and gay. I am waiting, waiting weary, V/eary for the May; Oh, to see the water spraying ! See the sparkling fountains playing. Playing all the day. Iff -V I am weary^ waiting, sighing, Sighing for the May; I would see the red clouds flushing, Hear the whirr of bird wings rushing, Rushing on their way. I am tired of storm, and wind- cloud, Darkness, gloom alway; Tall trees leafless, snow-clad, dreary. Bird songs hushed; Oh! I am weary. Weary for the May. C5^ THE WESTERN LIGHT AT SUNSET. The brilliant Western light ! Whence the spell It weaves around my heart ? Who can tell ? The lovely Western light ! Holy light ! Calm its glow, ere it sinks Into night. Holy light ! As I gaze, I commune With angels, and m.y heart Is in tune. Far beyond I would soar, For I know Music there is floating, Soft and low. 'Tis a glimpse of Heaven ! Oh ! may I Find as bright a Heaven, When I die. -^ A^ -^ REPLY 'The Crickets are Chirping the Summer A'vay. The crickets have chirped the Summer away, The harvest has been and gone--- The gleaners walk with mournful talk, (Bearing their sheaves of corn). Of the Winter coming in sad array. Now the crickets have chirped the Summer away. The crickets have chirped the Summer away. And a thousand hearts are crushed: Fair, bright young life ended in strife ; A thousand voices are hushed j No longer is heard the haunting lay Of the crickets chirping the Summer av/ay. The crickets have chirped the Summer away, The Summer with lilac bloom. And blossoms red have paled and fled; • The lily has found its tomb ; Ah ! grasses grew brown and mosses turned gray. As crickets were chirping the Summer away. -^ The harebell has tolled its requiem-chant . For the brave who sank to rest Where the cannon's roar boomed out from the shore, Or beneath the sea-wave's crest ; As the sun went down on that August day, We knew that the Summer was chirped away. But a light is gleaming through poplar tops. Its rays a beacon for all ; O rainbow hue, golden and blue, A guide lest mortals should fall , 'Tis a promise we know of a Summer day That is coming, and ne er can be chirped away. -^ TO THE FiaURE OF TIME, In the Pi^ocEssioN of Antiques and Hoi^i^ibles. Whither art marching. Father Time ? Where the tv/o worlds meet ? We, gazers on, are marching too, With rapid, hurrying feet. Seldom we see thy ancient form; We know thou'rt passing by With scythe and glass : at thy approach Quickly our moments fly. Men talk against thee, call thee old, And d^U, and cold of heart; Say thou destroyest monum^ents And other works of art. Some even talk of killing thee! But v/ith majestic stride, Thou marchest on, defying those Who their full time must bide. 21 -^ But others are thy firmest friends. And love the sunny hours Thou scatterest round, oh, many-hued As Summer's glorious flov/ers. Deal gently v/ith us, Father Time ! Turn not thy glass too soon; Oh ! ■ cut not off the golden thread Of life, ere yet 'tis noon. -^ ^ THE SOUL'S IMAGE. V/hat iii\age and superscription, does our soul wear — the earthly or the heaverily ? " — Lothi^op's Sermon. What superscription, O my soul ! What image dost thou bear? Do earth-stains mar its loveliness ? Is guilt reflected there ? What image dost thou wear, my soul. Inwrought v/ith life-long toil ? The heavenly^ bringing precious hope, Free from life's dust and soil 1 Does holy love the impress leave ? Is charity within ? Is the soul's image bright and pure, Or is it dimmed by sin ? Oh, I would bear thy image, Christ! Engraved upon my soul; With thee in pastures green v/ouid walk, Until I reach the goal. 23 ^ ^ ^4: ^V^ HUMAN LOVE. O Human LovG; O Human Love, What shall thy mission be ? To walk abroad o'er all the earth. Binding all hearts to thee. None are so rich they need thee not; The poor v/ill bid thee stay ; The wretched will be happier For thy illumined ray. Press closer to thy breast the babe Left motherless and lone : Walk by the side of youth; and sing Sweet songs of joyous tone. "Watch by the- aged, weave thy spell So they forget their tears ; Tend them with patient graciousness, And soothe away their fears. Then spread thy wings, enfold each poor Grief- stricken child of earth : Whisper of Heaven, and lead the way Until the second birth. ?^ ■V UP THE HILL. Up the hill ! But yesternight We gained the highest peak; Our feet are weary with the march. Our spirits faint and weak. Up at last ! What have v/e gained ? On either side the hill, The flow'rets grew with fragrance strange- For us to choose at will. But we— we chose the flaunting weeds. And would not step aside For blossoms of Humility, But grasped the thorns of Pride. We looked not for the deathless flov/ers Of the fair Patience-tree, But culled the flaming Anger-buds--- Their poison would not see. We gathered sprays of paly blooms And bound them in our hair ; Ah m.e ! 'twas Envy's deadly vine, That we had thought so fair. -^ And now v/e're up, with both hands full Of weedS; sere, withered, dead--- The beauty that allured us gone, And all their perfume fled. Come, throw away the worthless things ] We must descend the hill ; I see the fair Eternal flov/ers G-rowing in beauty still. Then haste to gather w^hile v/e may, Ere at its foot v/e lie ] Weave coronals of Grace and Truth, To wear beyond the sky. ^ -^ THE PAINTED CHAMBER. All have a painted chamber, A chamber in the brain, Wherein they hang up pictures, As seasons wax and wane. And every day they vary, These pictures quaint and rare One never wearies gazing, They are so wondrous fair. Oh, beautiful the faces That hang upon the wall ! Hangs, shaded by a curtain. The face best loved of all. Lovely and meek and holy, The look from out their eyes, Some mortals are, some angels Beyond the veiled skies. There is, far in the distance, A fair and stately tree ; Its branches shade the door-stone, Where children used to be. -^ ^ -s Adown the walk^ the sunbeam Gleams with a golden light; The butter -cup and clover Bloom ever fair and bright Green moss, like richest velvet. Is growing by the well ; The sparkling v/ater laveth Each tiny nook and cell. *i* ^ ^ ^ •!* Said I that no one wearied ? Ah me ! ah me ! I ween^ The pictures may be shrouded ; Clouds float o'er every scene. All have a painted chamber, A chamber in the brain, Wherein they hang up pictures, As seasons wax and wane. -^ -^ TO O. W. H. Hanging in Mem'ry's lofty hall Are pictures that you paint: They come re-tinted with new grace^ And frames all carved and quaint. Oh! well I knov/ the "river Charles/' In childhood's sunny day, * I stood upon the olden bridge And saw the blue waves play. The "ancient church" "'with lowly tower/' Far back in morning land, They dressed the church v/ith evergreen. And took me by the hand, And led me in to see the v/reaths, And hear the organ's tone : Methinks I hear the music now When musing and alone. The "sister church" with " glitt'ring vane. 'Twas there sweet counsel fell On listening ears, from lips revered.--- I love that church full v/ell. ^ -^ •'Pride pillared stone/' the -'Vassal tcmb.'= The '-Goblet and the Sun;" Oft by its side mid weeds and grass^ . My childish feet have run. I know the tree where Katy-did Hid when she sung her song, O happy tree, to have the tale. Which Kate had kept so long. It is an "Elm;" its graceful boughs Hang arching o'er the street; Its "girdle" measures eight good yards. Its height is eighty feet. The ancient maiden sisters three ;-- I knov/ the painting true. The tiny picture-books they sold I loved as well as you. They used to cut their skeins of silk And hang them o'er a line. And for a penny you could buy A needlefull of fine, Or coarse, pink, blue or red, To work a sampler gay. Perhaps you know they had such things In that old-fashioned day. u#S5 G^ -S Dear souls, I never dreamed them poor, They always dressed so gay ; ''The Ladies Howe "---I used to hear The common people say. Hanging in Memory's lofty hall Are pictures that you paint : They come re-tinted with new grace And frames all carved and quaint. -^ c^ TO J. J. M On Receiving this Autograph of J. G. Whittiei?. "Do thine own work ; it shall succeed In thine, or in another's day ; And if denied the victor's meed Thou shalt not lack the toiler's pay." Thanks for thy graceful gift; to me it tells Of all sv/eet sounds, and as the music swells, Through all I hear the the peal of Freedom's bells. Thanks for the poet's song; henceforth to me For all Life's work a motto it shall be, Although the victor's meed I may not see. Thanks for the poet's name , serene the light That glints across the page, a halo bright Like star that gleams from Heaven, a guide by night. ^ ^ -13 THE MAN IN THE MOON. They say he lives up in a tree ; Pray, are his trees like ours ? And do the branches twine around, Forming green shady bowers ? Or are they dry and shriveled things, All leafless, scathed and bare ? Nov/ tell us, Ancient Luna Man, What dost thou do up the Man in the Moon ! Man in the Moon ! Of some use you must be ; Perhaps you saw your branches off, And give in charity, To those v/ho have no wood or branch. Or tree-top of their own; That must be it ! and that is why, Thy name has always shone. 33 c^ -^ ISSACHAR. Genesis : XLIX. 14, 15, Rise to thy feet, O Issachar! Stand firm; thy burden bear; For thou art strong. From off thy limbs The chains of bondage tear. Bear up thy burden, Issachar ! No longer crouch a slave. Oh ! seek not for inglorious peace, And find inglorious grave. The foe's upon thee, Issachar ! His banner on thy walls, And floating v/ith its serpent guise In thy ancestral halls. Stay not to see the ''pleasant land," Say not of rest, ''.'tis good;" The foe's upon thee, Issachar, O'erwhelming as a flood. Rise to thy feet, O Issachar ! Stand firm; thy burden bear, For thou art strong. From off thy limbs The chains of bondage tear. -^ -V CHARLES SUMNER. OF BOSTON, "Three hundred and thirty-three members ansv/ered to their names, with the v/ords, "CHARLES SUMNER, of Boston;" and as the Clerk responded with the same words to each vote, they rang upon the ears of the large assembly, more than six hundred times during the hour occupied with calling the roll." "It is said no sound is ever lost; that every word uttered upon earth, is echoed and re-echoed through space, for ever." Old Massachusetts ! nobly thou This day thy work hast done. Proudly thou speakest for the right; And for thy honored son. Three hundred voices on the aii-. Ringing the loved name forth: Three hundred voices echoing back, " Charles Sumner/' of the North ! Throughout the land, beyond the sea. The voices will be heard ; His name shall stand for Liberty, The freeman's rallying word. . £^ -v Throughout the land, beyond the sea, Above in arches high, Voices are ever echoing A name that ne'er v^ill die. Unfurl the banners ! even now The stars more brightly shine , Is one more glorious than the rest'^ Old Bay State, it is thine. Gather fresh laurels, Ivniie tv/o v/reaths. Wreaths for a victory won, Loved Massachusetts, one for thee. One for thy chosen son. -^ THE POOR. Written for a Charity Fair. The poor! they daily walk with ns, The dusty path of life; And v/eary, weary is the part They take in human strife. The poor ! they always are with us , We cannot feel or know, The bitter of their bitterness, Their misery or woe. The poor! they soon shall rest v^^lth us. Together v/e shall lie; Ah, what is then the lurid glare Of gold, to them who die? The poor! they soon shall rise with us. There is a better land ; And there, before the Father's throne, Together we shall stand. Aid for the poor! give aid! give bread! And with the bread, give life ! For v/eary, weary is the part. They take in human strife. 37 -^ AN APPEAL. Written for a Charity Fair. See ye the poor that wait, At the fair city's gate, Hungry for bread? Hear ye the waiiing cry From those who starve and die When hope has fled? Know ye the thousand hearts That break, when life departs Freighted with grief, Temptation, doubts and fears,. And human anguish-tears. With no relief? The children! who can tell Where little children dwell Who have no home ? Who teaches them to pray At eve and dawn of day, Beneath the dome? This be our work to do, As life we journey through, All bruised reeds To bind; all hearts to cheer; Be to the mourner near; Plant flowers for weeds. 38 -^ PLEADINGS. Wl^ITTEN FOR A ChARITY FaIR The winter, chill and dreary, Is sitting by the door; The poor a- cold and weary, No carpet on the floor, No bread within the cupboard. Within the grate no fire; Watch lest he gain an entrance To them misfortune dire. t Wan sickness comes appalling , Within the home no light; Death ! They alone must meet it _With darkness and the night Bethink you, it is fearful To feel that death is near,--- None to give the v/ater-cup No word to bless or cheer. Who can be good v/ith hunger Grim, gnawing at the heart? Say to temptation glittering "Begone! From me depart." Who can be pure and holy In that dread bitter horn- When povert/ enfolds them With more than iron power "^ 39 ^ -13 Come then, dear Mercy's sisterS; With healing on your wings. Sweet Charity precedeth • And always sunshine brings. V.isit the lowly dwelling, Keep winter from the door , And o'er the broken-hearted The oil of gladness pour. ^ -« HYMN. Wl^ITTEN FOI^ THE BoSTON UnITAI^IAN FESTIVAL, 1863. Swing censers in the air, Filled v/ith sv/eet incense, prayer Our psans raise To God the Holy One, Through Jesus Christ, His Son. Who hath the victory won. Glory and praise. God bless our native land; And bless the noble band Who have gone forth In Freedom's cause to fight The battle for the right, In darkness to shed light- From East, West, North. We bring our hearts to thee, Bare them that thou may'st sc Judge us in love. Forgive each idle thought. Pleasure that sin hath bought. All that with grace is fraught; Receive above. ^ ^ In this calm hour draw near^ Incline Thine ear to hear ^ Keep us this night. Lead us forever more ,By the bright heavenward shore Till life for us be o'er;--- Then comes the light -^ ^ -s LINES 'WOMAN SUFFRAGE DEDICATION SUPPER. Build high the temple, let it stand. With battlement and tower. A monument in our fair land Of woman's queenly pov/er. And from its minarets and dome, Let flag and pennon wave, With this inscription, "Woman, oome, Thy sister v/oman save." Save from the downward path of sharne Save from the drunkard's grasp : Let not our daughters bear his name : 'Tis death such hand to clasp. Too long has woman bent to earth Beneath the iron rule That branded her from very birth As "idiot" or "fool." -€5 -^ See to it; sisters, that your lav/s Are all for woman's weal ■ That each one is, without a clause. Holy, and v/ith God's seal. Build the fair temple; let it stand, With battlement and tower, A miracle in our dear land Of v/oman's queenly pov/er. ^ -^ GOOD NIOHT. Written for the Mechanics" Association Festival. Good night ! the fairy- winged Hours Have flitted swiftly by; This what they whispered ere they passed Into Eternity. "O we v/ould have forevermore, This place a hallowed shrine, For noble thoughts in coming years, And memories of lang syne. ■ Be first in every worthy cause ; Be first to think, to plan, To act, whene'er 'twill elevate And bless thy fellov/ man. '' O we would have forevermore, &c. Thy fathers left a goodly name Engraved upon the roll, See to it that no mar or blot, E'er comes to stain the scroll. '■^ O we would have forevermore, &c." 45 -^ This what they whispered; the last Hour Passed quickly out of sight ; And listening still, I caught the words, ■'Good night, good night, good night! O we would have forevermore, &c.'' But go we East, or go we West, We'll keep the msm'ry bright. Of these fair Hours, and this gay scene. Good night, good night, good night I O we would walk forevermore. As in the blessed light ; We pledge the fairy-v/inged Hours ! Good night, good night, good night C5- -19 A aUEETING CALEB METCALF, ON HIS 90th BIRTHDAY. Tune—" Auld Lang Syne." From distant homes we come to-day Thy presence; friend; to greet; Of love and reverence weave a wreath. And cast it at thy feet. We bid thee welcome; here beneath The "Elm" tree's pleasant shade. Where infancy's glad dreams were dreamed; And boyhood's plans were made; Where manhood's visions dawned, how fair' Rose-tinted every cloud: And '-'ships at sea" gleamed out full sail. Each one with gilded shroud. We bid thee welcome now as then, Green is the old "Elm" tree, And with the music of its leaves Makes ceaseless melody. ^ Father and Mother, both are here; Brothers and Sisters all ; Some from the spirit- land afar. Give answer to the call. And while beneath the old '^Elm" tree. We meet the living throng, We'll not forget the loving friends. Who join with us in song. O, length of days has been thy boon ■ Life counted out by years; May all thy present be serene : Thy future v/ithout fears. And when sweet thoughts of other days On sparkling wings flit by. May this fair scene beneath the '' Elm/' Live in thy memory. ruLY 22d, 1867. A WELCOME Rev. Augustus Woodbury, on his Return from Europe. The time for singing birds has come,"-' The flowers are in the land. Our pastor keeps his faith v/ith us. And v/ith his little band Is safely moored in peaceful bay. The perils of the sea^ The drear night-watch, the stormy clouds And dangers on the lea Have passed away. We all unite To give him welcome home. To pray v/ith us, commune v/ith us, As, standing 'neath the dome, He points the way to God and truth , The way to live on earth. That dying v/e may find that death To us is only birth. * Mr. Woodbury, in his last discourse before his departure, said, 5n the time of the singing of birds is come, I will be with you again." ^ -s O'er land of beauty, land of song, He wandered far and wide, But to his fair, free land he -turned His face at even-tide. Oui-. pastor keeps his faith v/ith us, And in this glad Spring-time We bid him welcome home again From distant foreign clime. Give God the praise ! Who stayed the stcrmj Who rules on sea and land, Who sets his angel-watch and holds The waters in his hand. Give God the praise forever more ! High let the choral rise, Higher I Till all of space is filled Beneath the azure skies. -^ THE LOYAL NORTH. Ring oiit, ring out with clarion shout; Thy loyal voice, O North! From off thy hillS; beside thy riiis. Bid thy brave sons come forth. Gome forth, come forth, O loyal North. And meet the rebel band. Unfurl the flag and never lag, Till o'er our entire land It floats and waves, o'er homes and graves, Aye o'er our country free. Ring out, ring out with clarion shout. The call of Liberty. No traitor hearts, no dastard arts, But loyal every breast. Till each brave son himself hath v/on The eagle for his crest. Come ibrth, come forth, O loyal North ' And write on Hist'ry's page Bright deeds of fame ; come trace thy name For all the coming age. 51 -^ THE BARBERRY Beautiful bush, beautiful bush With leaves of softest green, Pointed and fringed and edged v/ith pink. Loveliest ever seen. Its flov/ers of light are primrose-hued; Rose-shaped; with perfume filled. Scenting the air with fragrance rare, Aroma sv/eet distilled. Watch for the fruit, how wonderful I Gleaming v/here sunlight leads. Flushing and blushing red each day, And shaped like Eastern beads. I see the beads brimming with wine, Welcome to fevered lips, And hear the murmured blessing given By every one who sips. Each has a favorite flower. Or shrub, or vine, or tree, In characters of gold inscribe The name of Barberry. 52 -V THE TWO PEARLS. Each several gate was of one pearl."— Rev. The gats of pearl before our eyes. The gate of purity; Shining as a beacon light Guide to futurity ! The wondrous gate- --ah ! we behold ! But v/ho shall enter in? All those who love the Lord: whose hearts Are purified from sin' The pearl of price within our hearts, And we may enter in; Lord, teach us so to live our lives, That v/e the prize may win. The pearl of price within our hearts. So v/e may trusting wait. Dear Christ, thine own appointed time To enter in the gate. 53 ^ IDOLS. I made an idol fair, Set it on high, With pearls adorned its hair ; Then the bright sky Shimmered its gold and blue On arms, facO; neck ; Of dust with earthy hue There was no fleck. Of truth I wove a chain Studded v/ith stars, Arrayed my god : in vain I looked for scars. A lovely, perfect thing Whispered my pride. What could a shadov/ fling Close to my side ? The sun came slowly up Bringing the day. Oh! disappointment's cup. My idol— clay ! 54 -^ -^ THE RIVER OF LIFE. '■ Those who have fallen worn out by their march through the Desert have dreamed at least of a River of Life, and thought they heard its murmurs as they lay dying. "—Th3 Professor at the Breakfast Table. Worn with the Desert march, Earth's pilgrim rests- --to die, Comes sleep and brings a blessed dream, A lulling soand like silv'ry stream Of water flowing by. The murmur of thy v/aves, River of Life, he hears, Rippling over the golden sand That forms the shore of Eden land : No longer now he fears River of Death, thy tide, Whose sad moans never cease , Dying he hears the joyous sound. Of living water sought and found, And with him all is peace. -^ THE UNKNOWN SHORE. The unknown shore, the unknov/n shore, -- I see it in my dreams ; And in my blissful v/aking hours So beautiful it seems ! I fain would launch my earthly bark Upon the open sea. To reach the distant unknown shore, So radiant to me. Oh flower bedecked! O dev/ begemmed ! The v/ondrous unknown shore ! And they v/ho stand upon its banks, Nor weep nor sorrow more. Green pastures lie the entii-e v/ay ; The water by it flows , The Saviour's flowers, lilies, grov/ Beside the Sharon rose. The yellow flood comes shimmering dov/n. Palm trees are bathed in light _; Out from among the branches, flit Strange birds with plumage bright. Silver and white and gold. Bird-notes are heard 'mid rustling leaves Harp-tones are floating o'er ; Seraphic songs by seraphs sung, Echo on that fair shore. 5Q -v I see no spectre on the shore . The living Christ is there ! He beckons me with open hands, He listens to ray prayer. O soul, go forth without a fear. To find the unknown shore. And all thy dread and all thy doubts. Thy darknesS; all are o'er. ^ ^■'THE STREET GALLED STRAIGHT. Acts IX : 11. Gan you see the beautiful street. The v/onderful street called Straight? At the end is the jasper gate; The path is marked by the feet Of the saints and martyrs v/ho marched On to the city of G-od; O'er briers and thistles they trod, Through deserts sandy and parched, Till they found the beautiful street, With trees of cedar and palm, And their tremulous hearts grew calm. When they sav/ the vision sv/eet. Pray that we, too, may find the street; Oh ! pray w^e may walk therein. With spirits unclouded by sin. May we kneel and the Master greet. -V -^ HEREAFTER. Hereafter is close at haftd." — E. B. Hall, D. D. Hereafter ! it has seemed afar, The strange, mysterious land: We see its golden turrets gleam. And find it close at hand. Close at hand---we may not v/ait Long, weary, anxious years. Daily we near the lofty gate, Through trials, grief and tears. Daily v/e near the lofty gate ; Beyond— ah ! who can tell What glories wait for those of earth Whose work is finished well ? Daily we near the lofty 'gate--- The portal of that land Wherein dwell friends long entered in. A loved and loving band. Hereafter! it is close at hand; Trim we our lamps, and wait, And pray, and watch ; at dawn, at eve, Be constant at ^the gate ! a^ -V BABY SLEEPS. A sigh upon the air, As baby's lamp grew dim ; Damp on the golden hair, And baby went to Him Who bade the children come--- Who said, "Forbid them not He took the baby home--- O ! blessed, happy lot ! White flowers wreathed around The one fair central flovvrer^ Strew leaves, make soft the ground- 'Tis baby's resting-hour. Another little mound. More flowers wet with tears ; The baby's' sleep is sound--- No dreams, no griefs, no fears ! -^ til -^ AGNES. There was a rushing in the air ! Were angels passing by? Strange music ! do the angels sing When the pure-hearted die ? A little child of lovely form. Was fading fast away ; Watch, father ! for she may not see Morn of another day. Hush ! for the dying child doth speak, With accents low and clear ,--- ' Do not be angry, if I die, Not angry,- father, dear." • Oh ! gladly would I stay with thee. But, father, they are nigh,--- The angels with their shining wings , Speak! shall I stay— or die?" -19 Sadly he decked her for the grave. His beauteous child and good; He brought her birthday dress of v/hite. And little golden hood. Thou v/ast an angel on the earth. Bright^ beautii'ul and mild , An angel now in heaven thou art. Sweet Agnes- --Diirer's child. c^- -s PAUL AKERS. ' ' His very name is a tribute to his religious sensibilities ; it was bestowed on him in sport, besause of his grave rebuke of the profanity of his young companions, and his serious views of life. Christened Benjamin, he was nicknamed '-St. Paul," and by the latter name he became endeared to his friends and known to fame." — Tugkhrman's American Artist Life. Early he won a sainted name. More lustrous than the after fame Which from his distant Roma came. O, record written for all time ; O; record heard through every clime And through eternity sublime ! 'Tis meet that violets should grow Above his grave, and soft v/inds blov/ The cherry-bloomS; in rifts^ like snow. The maple-trees in tassels red Should wave in beauty o'er his head. And loving branches o'er him spread. The bees will hum and birds will sin^ And river Saco gently ring Her liquid notes, like living thing. -«5 ^ To all such beauty he was wed ; Friends will stand, v/ith reverent tread, Beside his purple-flowered bed. The pine tree sighs with perfumed breath, Whispers of life— no word of death; 'Enter ye in/' the Master saith. ^ -fS GOL. ROBERT G. SHAW. 'The Rebels buried him under twenty-five of his colored soldi Egyptian marble! Thus they raised His monumental pile. 'Twas m_eant in scorn; they did not see The glory-rays meanwhile. They could not see---their eyes were closed. Nor hear— their ears v/ere sealed--- The song of triumph that v/ent up From that dread battle-field. High, high it rose to Heaven's courts, Telling of duty done ; Self-sacrifice for conscience sake--- A martyr's crown thus won. More costly tomb he could not have-- Builded with human hearts ! Resplendent light will linger there Till Time itself departs. O, erring* men ! and did ye think That ye could war with God? The hero-martyr passed to heaven; Ye v/ait beneath the rod. -^ -^ IN MEMORIAM W. W. P. A. 'There is no death. He is not dead ! he has exchanged The dust- soiled robes of life For vestures of immortal light, With heavenly beauty rife. He is not dead! a slumber deep Enfolds him in its rest : No pain nor grief nor haunting dream. Can mar repose so blest. He is not dead, but gone before, ^'Into the silent- land;" There parted friends v/ill welcome him, A holy angel band. He is not dead ! friends, sorrow not. Nor weep as without hope; Those eyes, now veiled to earthly scenes. On glories bright will ope. »- -v IN MEMORIAM J. C. J. Ripe for the harvest ! gathered nov/ Into the Saviour's fold; Sheltered from Summer's scorching heat. And Winter's blasting cold. Meekly he followed in the path^ By the Redeemer trod; Safe is the path, O earthly friends ' It leadeth up to God. With outspread wings his spirit stood, Waiting"^ take its flight, 'Upward and onv/ard" through life's mists. Where beams celestial light. Mourn not, O friends ! O Christian friends Mourn not his upv/ard flight, Tis well with him--bright, endless day, And there is no more night. JL^ -^ cs- -V IN MEMORIAM C. A. M. ' Death found strange beauty on that cherub brow, And dash'd it out." Strange beauty on thy brow, sv/eet babe, Strange light within thy eye ; How could we dream that one so fair. So idolized, should die '. We could not see the angel throng Gathered around thy bed, We could not hear the song they sung, Or mark the path they led. Death came and sealed thy sunny eyes: We knew it was God's v/ill; And bowed our heads, and taught our hearts To whisper, -'Peace, be still." Thou'rt sleeping in thy lowly bed. Beneath the spreading tree, Rest, baby, rest— a little time, And we will come to thee. ^ 68 -^ IN MEMORIAM W. M. R. Tenderly, lovingly lay him to rest Where the sunbeams gleam from the rose-hued West Plant the soft moss flov/ers over his breast. Idly his harp on the willow is hung, Ah ! never again shall the chords be strung, Or its musical notes o'er the world be flung. Lay him to rest where the forest trees moan; Lovingly, softly his spirit has flown On v/ings white v/ith light, to the Holy Throne. Lay him to rest where the chime from the bells Will float, as its cadence rises and swells From aves and psalms, through the wooded dells. Leave him in peace v/ith his Father, God ! He knows the way that His earth-child has trod. Plant the soft moss flowers over the sod. ^ ^ IN MEMORIAM M. J. D. ■Dust unto dust ! and so we gave Her body to the earth ; Life unto life ! death's surging wave Gave her immortal birth; Opened for her the pearly gate To mansions of the blest ; For they v/ho on the Master wait; Shall find the promised rest We see the gleaming bridge of light O'er which our loved ones cross _; Away, away beyond our sight- -- Their gain, but ours the loss. The bridge of light---it heavenward tends Standing on either side_, The angels waiting, greet our friends, And bear them o'er the tide. And this the chant, as each nev/ guest Is guided safely o'er--- Rest for the v/eary-hearted, rest, Pain, death, shall be no more." The asphodels bloom pure and v/hite Along the heavenly road; Our loved ones v/ith a halo bright. Journey to meet our God. ^ IN MEMORIAM J. M. B. Gone to the spirit-land, Whence earthly shadows flee : His saintly eyes are open now To immortality. Freighted with faith and hope He walked the aisles of earth , With patience and submission stood Awaiting second birth. The bow of promise arched In glory o'er his head ; Light shimmered, as from angels' v/ings Folded around his bed. To m.inister to him God sent His spirits tv/ain : Peace, like a benediction came, And Love, to free from pain. Dear mother," weep no more_. Thy son has perfect rest , Rest from the toil and cares of earth . He fought the fight; he reached the Heaven ■•' Dear mother," it is best. -^ »-- v ROME. Written before Italy's independence was acknowledged by Austria. ''Land of my longing!" 'tis not Rome, With marble hails and gilded dome. And alcoves filled with many a tome Of quaint and ancient lore , With pictures born of artist thought. And statues inspiration wrought ; A holy shrine by pilgrims sought From near and far off shore. For there the eagle soars in vain, Fettered to ' earth v/ith iron chain, And silently he broods in pain Dreaming of life and light. Dream on ! perchance the day shall be When the blue skies of Italy Shall spread their arch o'er nation iree. From dawn of morn till night. 72 -^ Land of my longing !" from afar The lambent glory of a star Points out the v/ay : no cloud to mar The vision of repose. For weary hands, the earth-work done, For tired feet, the earth-race run, Beyond, beyond the setting sun, Land where the spirit grov/s. "I