POEMS 
 
 OF THE 
 
 Nineteenth Century 
 
 -BY- 
 
 DR. L W: FLETCHER 
 
Class 
 Book 
 
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 COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 
 
Dr. J. W. Fletcher 
 
Copyrighted 1909 by 
 
 Dr. J. W. Fletcher 
 
 Parsons, Kansas 
 
Mrs. J. W. Fletcher 
 
POEMS 
 
 OF THE 
 
 Nineteenth Century 
 
 — BY— 
 DR. J, \^. FLETCHER 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 In presenting this little volume to the public, 
 I have no apology 'to make. Trusting'it may go out 
 as an angel of light, and accomplish an everlasting 
 good in the way of teaching good morals, and fill 
 the mind of its many readers with good thoughts. 
 
 The deepest devotion in David's soul expressed 
 its self in measured strains poetical,! and ''The Psalms'^ 
 perpetuate his wisdom and devotion. 
 
 Dr, Watts still lives in the pathos of his songs 
 of love and grace. 
 
 Poetry opens a wide field for the '^expressions 
 of the soul, and he who has the gift of poesy need 
 not fear to enter. 
 
 These songs are flames of truth and love from 
 a soul filled with holy zeal. 
 
 May they kindle a s'acred flame in other hearts* 
 For truth is light 'a^d light is love. 
 Come down to earth from heaven above. 
 
 2S1054 
 
Nineteenth Century Poems. 
 
 A PRAYER 
 
 Thou art my Father and my God, 
 To thee I will bend my knee; 
 
 Forgive the past, Almighty God, 
 And draw me nigh to thee. 
 
 Hear my prayer, Almighty God, 
 And fill my heart with love; 
 
 Cleanse my heart of every sin, 
 To live in heaven above. 
 
 Thou art the true and living God, 
 Who holds the keys, of death ; 
 
 Give us a heart to pray to thee, 
 And pray with every breath. 
 
 0, Lord, when death shall come along. 
 
 To bring us to the grave, 
 Grant that our hearts be filled with-love. 
 
 In heaven our souls be saved. 
 
8 Nineteenth Century Poems. 
 
 A LOVER OF JESUS 
 
 I love my blessed Jesus 
 
 I love his golden rules^ 
 
 And always sing his praise^ 
 
 When in the sabbath school. 
 
 I love the little children 
 
 For Jesus first loved them, 
 
 I love to talk about Him 
 
 How His goodness will extend. 
 
 I love to talk of heaven 
 
 Of that happy home on high, 
 
 And how our blessed Jesus 
 
 Came down on earth to die. 
 
 I love to see the children 
 
 Come out to sabbath school, 
 
 Here sing and pray to Jesus 
 
 And obey his golden rule. 
 
Nineteenth Century Poems. 9 
 
 I love my blessed Jesus 
 
 His love to all extend, 
 
 All you who will obey Him 
 Will be happy in the end. 
 
 For Jesus often tells us 
 If we His laws obey, 
 
 Will forgive us of our sins 
 And wash them all away. 
 
 Tells us to love each other 
 
 At home or in the school, 
 
 And always love our parents 
 And obey the golden rule. 
 
 And when our life is ended 
 
 Free from earth for ever more, 
 
 I hope to meet you all in heaven 
 On that beautiful brio-ht shore. 
 
10 Nineteenth Century Poems. 
 
 A CHANGE OF MIND 
 
 This world of sin I'll lay aside 
 
 And take the Bible for my guide 
 
 My faith in Christ I hope is true 
 
 The Christian's path I'll now pursue. 
 
 Old Satin he will often come 
 
 And try to change my ^^outhful mind, 
 But if he comes he can't abode 
 
 I'll drive him off by serving God. 
 
 I know that sin will round me shine 
 
 And many times dwell upon my mind, 
 
 And often try to decoy me away 
 
 To forsake the path of duty stray. 
 
 But still I love and serve my God 
 And try to keep His holy word, 
 
 I hope poor sinners all will change 
 
 To love their Saviors blessed name. 
 
Nineteenth Century Poems. 11 
 
 M}^ faith I hope will never change 
 
 But try to love my Savior's name 
 
 And when this body comes to die, 
 My soul will go to God on high. 
 
 There unite with friends above * 
 
 And sing our Saviors dying love, 
 
 Then never more to suffer pain 
 
 With Jesus Christ forever reign. 
 
 Our faith in Christ will stronger grow 
 
 When released from trials here below, 
 
 From pain and death will then be free 
 
 Our friends and loved ones all will see. 
 
 They will meet us at the portal gates 
 Long many years they had to wait, 
 
 Jesus says there is room for all 
 
 For every one that obey his call. 
 
12 Nineteenth Century Poems. 
 
 ANGELS VISITS IN THE NIGHT 
 
 Arise up quickly and follow me, 
 
 Was the voice of an angel, to Peter did say, 
 For Peter was sleeping on the stone floor, 
 
 The Lord sent his angel to open the door. 
 
 It is said that the Soldiers both in deep sleep,, 
 
 And Peter between them with chains on his feet, 
 
 The Angel of the Lord to this dark prison came. 
 For there in the dungeon not long to remain. 
 
 A light flashed in the prison as bright as noonday, 
 And the voice of the Angel spoke out in this way, 
 
 Arise up Peter, there is no time for to stay, 
 
 The prison door is open, and you must go away. 
 
 When Peter arose the light dazzled his eyes. 
 
 Behold an Angel from heaven, which was a 
 surprise, 
 
 He thought this a dream, or a vision did see, 
 
 But the voice of the Angel says now follow me. 
 
 The Angel moved forward to the bolted, closed doors, 
 They swung open as natural as ever before 
 
 Then Peter kept watching this beautiful sight, 
 
 This was an Angel from Heaven with power 
 and light. 
 
Nineteenth Century Poems. 13 
 
 When Peter at last from the prison set free^ 
 
 An Angel came down this poor mortal to see, 
 
 Then went to the soldiers who was asleep on the floor, 
 Never waked or disturbed them, but opened 
 the door, 
 
 The Angel departed, or vanished away 
 
 For the scriptures teach us, that those who 
 do right. 
 For Angels will watch over them by day and by night, 
 
 As Peter was true to the master we see, 
 God sent his Angel ,from prison to set him free. 
 
 Now all who will trust him and believe just the same^ 
 Confess to the Savior and trust in his name, 
 
 When trials and affliction your suffering will end, 
 The Angel of mercy will prove a true friend. 
 
 When Peter was sleeping on that hard stone floor, 
 The Angel of mercy just opened the door, 
 
 Came just at the time when his life was near the end, 
 Proved a faithful coworker, which God only sends- 
 
14 Nineteenth Century Poems. 
 
 A WANDERER, IN THE SPIRIT LAND 
 
 He told while in the Spirit Land, 
 
 The many awful sights, 
 No glittering stars nor shining sun, 
 
 But dark and dismal night. 
 
 He spoke of spirits in that land, 
 
 In darkness all must roam. 
 All for a sinful life on earth, 
 
 For there they must atone. 
 
 He spoke of mountains towering high, 
 
 Dark chasms down below. 
 Sin and shame and evil crime, 
 
 Around such places go. 
 
 He spt)ke of cities had been built, 
 
 By sinners here on earth. 
 And every crime, and every sin, 
 
 Would follow them from birth. 
 
 He spoke of horrors in that place, 
 
 A frightful dismal gloom. 
 And every one who enters there. 
 
 For sin they must atone. 
 
 He spoke of spirits in that land, 
 
 So beautiful and fair, 
 And all on earth their sins forsake, 
 
 Will dwell some day up there. 
 
 He spoke of rivers, mountains streams, 
 
 With shining waters bright. 
 Darkness and gloom all fades away. 
 
 In one perpetual light. 
 
Nineteenth Century Poems. 15 
 
 He spoke of flowery gardens there. 
 
 And trees of living green, 
 The half has never yet been told. 
 
 Nor human eye has ever seen. 
 
 He spoke of towering mountains high, 
 
 Thick darkness down below, 
 And all who lives a sinful life. 
 
 This place must surely go. 
 
 He spoke of beauties over there, 
 
 No tongue can here express, 
 A place for every Christian soul, 
 
 A home for all the blest. 
 
 He spoke of fruits of various kinds. 
 
 And how they were displaj^ed. 
 Just for the spirits of that land. 
 
 Was not for human made. 
 
 He spoke of mansions over there. 
 
 Kings seated on the throne, 
 The walls all crumbling into dust. 
 
 While spirits around them roam. 
 
 He spoke of clouds assending high. 
 
 From fire and smoke below, 
 A horrid place he here describes. 
 
 Where wicked spirits go. 
 
 Gigantic walls surround that place. 
 
 Here: wicked spirits dwell. 
 This dismal place we here describe. 
 
 Must be an awful hell. 
 
16 Nineteenth Century Poems. 
 
 AFTER DEATH 
 
 .When the spirit leaves the bodj^ 
 Or this tenement of cla}^ 
 
 Will it hasten to another sphere 
 And that without delay. 
 
 When the spirit leaves the body 
 
 Oh, whither will it go 
 Into a world of happiness 
 
 Or into misery and woe. 
 
 When the spirit leaves the body 
 
 Can any human tell 
 The place of its destination 
 
 Or whither will it dwell. 
 
 When the spirit leaves the body 
 Will it return any more 
 
 To tell us of the future world 
 Where all are destined to go. 
 
 When the spirit leaves the body 
 
 It is believed that they will^come 
 
 To visit all their loved ones 
 
 But in silence thej^ will roam. 
 
Nineteenth Century Poems. 17 
 
 When the spirit leaves the body 
 
 They will return again 
 To tell us of their happy home 
 
 Where spirits all remain. 
 
 When the spirit leaves the body 
 The scriptures teach us plain 
 
 That Samuel after he wus dead 
 Came back upon earth's plain. 
 
 We find where Paul and Silas 
 
 Was chained down on the prison floor 
 That spirits came into the prison 
 
 And threw open wide the door. 
 
 We think it proof enough, 
 
 As any one can explain 
 That spirits when they are called away 
 
 Can come back to earth again. 
 
18 Nineteenth Century Poems. 
 
 AN ORPHAN CHILD'S FATE 
 
 He was six feet tall and muscular, 
 And broad across the chest, 
 
 And he had a heart of sympathy. 
 That beat within his breast. 
 
 His face and arms was brown, 
 For he daily drove a float, 
 And came out as a witness, 
 |;.j For this little girl in court. 
 
 And as he rose before the Judge, 
 The truth he did explain. 
 
 Told how this poor little orphan, 
 Had to stand out in the rain. 
 
 Told of how her step-mother. 
 
 Would drive her off from home, 
 To stay all day in the meadow. 
 With the cow, and all alone. 
 
 Oh! what a wretched mother. 
 
 With a heart so cruel and cold, 
 
 To punish this poor little orphan, 
 Who is scarcely eight years old. 
 
 So often she would beat her, 
 And drive her out of doors, 
 
 Compell this poor little orphan, 
 To suffer in the cold. 
 
 Her Father he was very stupid. 
 
 He surely had no heart, 
 To see his poor child suffer, 
 
 And neA'er take her part. 
 
Nineteenth Century Poems. 19 
 
 A SCOLDING WIFE 
 
 I HAD rather live a single life^ 
 
 Than to marry a scolding wife, 
 
 Whose face is always full of frowns 
 And always tries to cry me down. 
 
 There are good men in this world 
 
 Who often marry high tempered girls; 
 
 Their tempers they can sometimes cool, 
 Not one in ten is often fooled. 
 
 Sometimes the lady is to blame, 
 
 Shell call her husband various names. 
 
 And try to fret him every wa}^, 
 
 To keep him vexed throughout the day. 
 
 She often asks when he comes home, 
 The reason why he stayed so long; 
 
 And if he does not answer right, 
 
 She is ready then to have a fight. 
 
 The husband will often say, 
 
 My dearest wife keep calm today: 
 
 But this will only vex her so 
 
 She will often fret and scold the more. 
 
 Now young men of single life^ 
 
 Be cautious how you choose a wife; 
 
 And choose one with a temper smooth, 
 
 And you'll always live in peace and love. 
 
20 Nineteenth Century Poems. 
 
 A FISH FRY 
 
 IN eighteen hundred and seventy-six, 
 
 On the fourth of July, 
 The people met upon a lake 
 
 And had a nice fish fry. 
 
 They gathered in the morning soon, 
 The lake was long and wide; 
 
 The people soon were scattered out 
 Around on every side. 
 
 The hounds were running after deer, 
 And round the lake did go; 
 
 Sometimes we'd hear them hollow. 
 And then the horns would blow. 
 
 A fire was quickly kindled, 
 Close to the water's side 
 
 The boys and girls brought the fish 
 Soon had them nicely fried. 
 
 One o'clock all in the shade 
 
 A table was quickly spread; 
 
 Rich and poor, young and old, 
 Were all bountifully fed. 
 
 All were thankful for that day, 
 
 Long years have passed it by; 
 
 No more we'll meet upon the fourth, 
 To enjoy another fish fry. 
 
Nineteenth Century Poems. 21 
 
 BRIGHT SIDE OF LIFE 
 
 There is a bright side in life^ 
 This life we all should liA^e^ 
 
 Make' all around us happy, 
 
 When treated wrong forgive. 
 
 Be happy and contented, 
 
 And live a noble life, 
 Always give a helping hand, 
 
 In sickness, pain and strife, 
 
 Let us never fret or worry, 
 
 If things are moving wrong. 
 
 Just look upon the bright side. 
 And sing a cheerful Psalms. 
 
 Never look upon the dark side, 
 
 You will be sure to take the blues, 
 
 And your business all entangled. 
 Then in a mighty stew. 
 
 Look always on the bright side, 
 Now keep this rule in sight. 
 
 If Satan tries to dovv^n you, 
 
 Just pray with all your might. 
 
22 Nineteenth Century Poems. 
 
 Don't worry about the dark side, 
 That has ruined many minds, 
 
 But hold on to the bright side, 
 
 And treat your neighbors kind. 
 
 Always watch the bright side, 
 
 For troubles will come round, 
 
 Be ready with a smilling face. 
 To smooth all trouble down. 
 
 Look always on the bright side. 
 If things are running slow. 
 
 For time will change for better, 
 Just let the dark side go. 
 
 For we cannot retrace our steps. 
 When once we pass this way, 
 
 We are hastening to another world, 
 For here we cannot stay. 
 
Nineteenth Century Poems.. 23 
 
 BY REQUEST OF A LADY FOR HER 
 MOTHER 
 
 Mother when you go a lone^ 
 
 And bend your week and feble knees, 
 
 Think of her that is far away, 
 
 Who often holds a thought for the, 
 
 Sister when wandering up and down the beach, 
 
 Where often we have played. 
 Gathering sweet flowers and woodvines, 
 
 In days that have passed away. 
 
 I love thee still though friends may-' tell, 
 That we may no more each other see, 
 
 But still I think of things there's past, 
 
 That binds my wandering heart to thee. 
 
 The links of loA^e can not be broken, 
 In friendships golden links by me, 
 
 Although if we should meet no more, 
 My love will still be true to thee. 
 
 Oh; brother do you still remember. 
 While I am living far from thee. 
 
 And how we once did play together, 
 In child hood joys all full of glee. 
 
 Our child hood days too long haA-e faded, 
 
 Those happy hours we'll no more see, | 
 
 For in age we are growing older. 
 
 To soon must pass from time away. 
 
 Soon must leave this world of trouble. 
 
 And in another world renew, 
 But we hope the God of heaven, 
 
 Will safely guide us through. 
 
24 Nineteenth Century Poems. 
 
 BLIND JAMES 
 
 COME all good people in this land, 
 
 And buy this book of mine; 
 I composed it for the sake of one 
 
 For many j^ears been blind. 
 
 Remember he who. sells this book, 
 
 His sight is passed away; 
 The darkest night that ever came 
 
 Is just the same as daJ^ 
 
 Blind James can hear the sweet birds sing, 
 As they fly from tree to tree; 
 
 But if he looks it is all in vain. 
 Blind James he cannot see. 
 
 Ten years have past, forever gone, 
 
 Since poor blind James could see; 
 
 It was God who gave the sight to him. 
 But He has taken it awa3^ 
 
 This book is called the BHnd Man's Friend; 
 
 And you who will your money spend. 
 And for this book your money give. 
 
 Will help the blind on earth to live. 
 
Nineteenth Century Poems. 25 
 
 CHRIST ASLEEP ON THE SHIP 
 
 When Christ and his Disciples, 
 Were on the Ocean deep, 
 
 The Master being weary, 
 
 Lay down and fell asleep. 
 
 The angry waives came rolHng, 
 And in the ship did pour, 
 
 His Disciples kept on working, 
 
 But could not reach the shore. 
 
 At last they waked the Master, 
 Who still lay sound asleep. 
 
 He rebuked the angry waters, 
 
 And calmed them on the deep. 
 
 He spoke unto the raging waves. 
 And said peace be still, 
 
 For he possessed all power, 
 
 To do His Father's holv will. 
 
 The angry sea did quickl}^ calm, 
 And waves no longer roared, 
 
 Then Christ and his Disciples, 
 Soon gained the other shore. 
 
26 Nineteenth Century Poems. 
 
 This blessed Lord and master, 
 He has all power to save. 
 
 It was He who called poor Lazarus, 
 And raised him from the grave. 
 
 And still there is another, 
 
 A poor widows son it is said, 
 
 That Jesus restored to life, 
 
 For whom she moaned as dead. 
 
 And when you read the scriptures, 
 You there will plainly see, 
 
 Jesus walked upon the waters, 
 The sea of Galilee. 
 
 And every one who loves him. 
 And His blessed laws obey 
 
 He has promised in the scriptures. 
 To take all vour sins awav. 
 
Nineteenth Century Poems. 27 
 
 CHANGE OF HEART 
 
 Bright prospects before me far that I can see, 
 My work is completed, my mind is at ease, 
 
 Now ready to travel over far distant land, 
 
 To worship my Savior and keep his command. 
 
 Bright prospects are now ro-und me, my heart is filled 
 
 with love, 
 
 I'll visit far countries and distant lands roam, 
 
 I'll speak of my Savior and take up his cross 
 
 For he saved my poor soul when in sin it 
 
 was lost. 
 
 Bright prospects in heaven through faith I can see, 
 I love my dear Savior, my soul He set free, 
 
 My prayer went up to heaven, to God on his throne, 
 He sent down his blessing, all in my heart shone. 
 
 My father and mother I left them at home, 
 
 My sisters and brothers for me did mourn, 
 
 My eyes filled with tears and my heart filled with pain 
 I live here in hopes to meet them again. 
 
28 Nineteenth Century Poems. 
 
 CHANGE OF FASHION 
 
 Oh, what a change of fashion, 
 
 In late ^-^ears has come around; 
 
 You see the latest styles out, 
 Now worn in every town. 
 
 Some ladies often lace so tight, 
 
 They can scarce^ get a breath; 
 
 This drives the color from their cheeks, 
 And makes them pale as death. 
 
 They think if they don't lace 
 And try to look quite slim, 
 
 The boys will not fancy them^ 
 And will never take them in . 
 
 And often when in church 
 
 They scarcely sit with ease. 
 
 With faces burning up with paint 
 And their bodies in a squeeze. 
 
 Young ladies all this poem read, 
 I think you'll saj^ that's true; 
 
 If the latest fashions 3^0 u will wear, 
 Don't lace yourselves in two. 
 
Nineteenth Century Poems. 29 
 
 COMING TO TEXAS 
 
 Long years have passed^ forever flown, 
 Since first I left my native home 
 
 To view the lone Star Texas land, 
 
 And travel o^er its flower}^ plains. 
 
 My mind was like the ocean wide, 
 
 That rolls its waves on every side, 
 
 And no contentment could there be, 
 Till I the Lone Star State did see. 
 
 At home I left a mother dear. 
 
 Whose time-worn cheeks were bathed in tears^ 
 She pressed me to her aching heart, 
 
 The morning I from home did part. 
 
 My sisters wept, and father too. 
 
 But soon I bade them all adieu; 
 Then to the Texas land I came, 
 
 I in the Lone Star still remain. 
 
 I soon will leave the lone Star State, 
 1 And go back to my native home; 
 There ease the heart of mother dear, 
 
 Since eight long years for me has mourned. 
 
30 Nineteenth Century Poems. 
 
 DRIFTING 
 
 Far out on the ocean billows^ 
 
 We are drifting over the sea^ 
 
 Our mind wanders back to childhood, 
 Those davs will nei^er more be. 
 
 We feel old age fast approaching, 
 
 Our youthfull days have all fled, 
 
 For out on the ocean we are drifting, 
 By the spirit so kindly are led. 
 
 Far out on the ocean still drifting, 
 Angry billows around us did roar, 
 
 But safely hold on to the anchor, 
 Time lands us safely on shore. 
 
 Far away on the deep blue waters, 
 
 We are drifting over the sea, 
 The storm of affiction around us. 
 But a voice cries come unto me. 
 
Nineteenth Century Poems. 31 
 
 Yes, we are drifting, surely drifting, 
 
 Over pathless seas have trod, 
 When the storm of life is over. 
 We will anchor home to God. 
 
 When the darkness is all passed over. 
 And the light shines from above, 
 
 He will guide us safe to heaven, 
 To live with all the loved. 
 
 'fe; 
 
 There will be no more drifting. 
 
 On storm tossed billows at sea, 
 But will be safely anchored in heaven, 
 And united, we all shall be 
 
32 Nineteenth Century Poems. 
 
 DEATH OF A BAPTIST MINISTER. 
 
 Dear father thou has left us, 
 
 And gone to the world unknown, 
 
 To live with God and angels, 
 Around the Holy Throne. 
 
 You often preached of Jesus, 
 
 Who died upon the cross. 
 That all of us poor sinners, 
 
 Souls should not be lost. 
 
 You did not dread the sting of death, 
 To heaven you longed to soar, 
 
 To live with God and angels. 
 And dwell for evermore. 
 
 Alas and God did call you, 
 
 To leave this world of sin. 
 And fly away to heaven. 
 
 To live in peace with Him. 
 
 Where sin can never enter, 
 
 In that happy home above. 
 Where saints are all united, 
 
 And serving God in love, 
 
 I hope we all will meet you, 
 
 When God shall call us home, 
 
 To live with Him and angels, 
 Around the holy throne. 
 
Nineteenth Century Poems. 33 
 
 DEATH OF PRESIDENT GARFIELD. 
 
 I hear the death bells tolling^ 
 How solumn^ yet how true. 
 
 Another soul has took its fight, 
 And bids this world adieu. 
 
 Gone to the heai^enly mansions, 
 To live with all that is blest, 
 
 Where the wicked cease from troubling, 
 And the weary are at rest. 
 
 Gone to live with angels, 
 
 In that happy home above. 
 
 Where the saints are all united. 
 And serving God in love. 
 
 The chieftain of our nation, 
 
 On earth we will see no more. 
 
 Yet we live in hope to meet him, 
 Beyond death's chilling shore. 
 
 God bless his wife and children. 
 
 His poor old mother dear, 
 Relieve poor hearts now broken. 
 
 And wipe away all tears. 
 
 Guiteau the poor assassin, 
 
 He who took the chieftain's life. 
 Has broken the hearts of children 
 
 A mother and a wife. 
 
34 Nineteenth Century Poems. 
 
 DYING CHILD. 
 
 My dying hours have come at last, 
 My breath will soon be gone, 
 
 I now must leave my mother dear, 
 In tears to weep and mourn. 
 
 I long to go to heaven above, 
 To join the angels' band, 
 
 I hate to leave you, mother dear 
 Here in this sinful land. 
 
 But still from you I'm bo.und to go, . 
 
 For God has called me home, 
 Oh come and kiss your dying child, 
 
 For I will soon be gone. 
 
 I soon will cross the stream of death, 
 
 » For that is plain to see, 
 But when I am gone, my mother dear, 
 Please do not grieve for me. 
 
 I see bright angels around the throne, 
 With hearts all filled with love. 
 
 They wait to waft my trembling soul. 
 To brighter realms above. 
 
 And mother, kiss my pallid cheeks, 
 From you I now must go, 
 
 I hope, when we meet again. 
 
 We will meet to part no more. 
 
Nineteenth Century Poems. 35 
 
 DEATH 
 
 DEATH is a solemn thing, I know, 
 But with it we will have to go, 
 
 For here on earth we cannot stay, 
 
 We'll have to pass from time away, 
 
 Death takes the breath we love to breathe, 
 And fits the body for the grave, 
 
 And when death comes we will have to go, 
 To leave this world for evermore. 
 
 Death kills the rich, it kills the poor, 
 It visits every house and door. 
 
 But when it comes we all must go, 
 
 And leave this world forever more. 
 
 Death is a thing we know must come, 
 To take us from our peaceful homes 
 
 And when it comes we all must go. 
 And bid farewell for ever more. 
 
 Death stops the breath when it comes on, 
 And sends the soul to worlds unknown; 
 
 We should prepare before it comes, 
 To go to a better world unknown. 
 
36 Nineteenth Century Poems. 
 
 DEATH OF LITTLE GEORGE. 
 
 Dear little George has left this earth, 
 And gone to the world on high; 
 
 He joined the wholly angel band, 
 To live in Paradise. 
 
 Dear little George has gone to God, 
 
 And left this world of sin; 
 His little spirit took its flight. 
 
 And joined the angel band. 
 
 Dear mother wept, and father, too, 
 
 But still he had to go; 
 He left this world of wickedness, 
 
 To come back never more. 
 
 His little form we'll see no more. 
 While here on earth we stay; 
 
 For God has called his spirit home, 
 It passed from time away. 
 
 His little brother, Robert Lee, 
 
 Will miss him every day; 
 For many pleasures they did see, 
 
 When they were out at play. 
 
Nineteenth Century Poems. 37 
 
 DEATH OF MY BROTHER. 
 
 Dear brother thou hast left iis^ 
 And gone to God on high; 
 
 No more to suffer pain or death, 
 No more on earth to die. 
 
 Dear brother I will meet with you^ 
 When God will call me home; 
 
 In heaven above where all is love, 
 Around the holy throne. 
 
 You suffered on for daj^s and nights, 
 
 Full fifty-three I know; 
 For God did call thy spirit home, 
 Your suffering was over. 
 
 You told us all to nei^er weep 
 Nor grieve for you no more; 
 
 But try to meet^you some day 
 On Canaan's happy shore. 
 
 You said your faith was strong in Christ, 
 With him you longed to go; 
 
 But yet did hate to leave us all 
 In this sinful world of woe. 
 
 » 
 
 But it is hard to give you up, 
 
 But yet 3^ou had to go; 
 For God did call your spirit home, 
 
 On earth it could stav no more. 
 
38 Nineteenth Century Poems, 
 
 FAITH IN CHRIST. 
 
 When I gave my heart to God, 
 I neverj shall forget that day, 
 
 He taught my soul to trust in Him 
 And from my duty never stray. 
 
 Down in the water I did go/ 
 Like Christ I was baptized, 
 
 Prepare my soul for heaven above 
 To live with Him in Paradise. 
 
 I rose up from that liquid grave. 
 My heart did beat anew, 
 
 I felt like I was on the road, 
 That Christians did pursue. 
 
 And now I love mv blessed Lord, 
 His name is sweet to tell, 
 
 And how He saved my trembling soul, 
 From sinking down to hell. 
 
Nineteenth Century Poems. 39 
 
 His name I now will preach abroad, 
 
 His wondrous powers to tell, 
 If sinners will accept His word, 
 
 In heaven their souls shall dwell. 
 
 When our work on earth is done, 
 
 And death shall set us free. 
 
 United in that heavenly home, ' 
 
 With Jesus we all shall be. 
 
 I 
 
 Never more on earth to die, 
 
 For death has made us free. 
 
 Will sing our risen Savior's love. 
 How happy all will be. 
 
 » 
 
 When our body's are cold in death. 
 Our soul? will all be free. 
 
 Will then go home to heaven above, 
 Our loved ones for to see. 
 
40 Nineteenth Century Poems 
 
 FAREWELL MISS ETTA 
 
 Farewell Miss Etta, I'll leave you, 
 For the Doctor's time has come; 
 
 I'll go away to Tennessee, 
 
 And stay on the cotton farm. 
 
 My health is bad, I cannot stay, 
 
 For that is plain to see; 
 I hate to leave such a pretty girl. 
 
 And go to Tennessee. 
 
 But I can't stay, farewell young girl, 
 My heart still beats for thee; 
 
 Never will I forget your love 
 If I should cross the sea. 
 
 If I should cross the dark blue sea 
 
 And live in foreiga lands. 
 No other lady could win my heart, 
 
 Or join in wedlock band. 
 
 When trouble comes upon my mind, 
 I think of your sweet name; 
 
 This drives the trouble from my heart. 
 And gives relief a^iain. 
 
Nineteenth Century Poems. 41 
 
 FAREWELL 
 
 0, yes, the sad sound comes close to m}^ ear, 
 
 The voice I know so well; 
 From you I must part with a heavy, poor heart, 
 
 My darling, my fairest, farev/ell. 
 
 0, y^es, I do hate to leave thee at home, 
 
 Your name that I cherish so well; 
 But still the sad sound comes close to my ear. 
 
 My dearest, my fairest, farewell. 
 
 0, yes, I do hate to leave thee at home. 
 Your troubles it is true I cannot tell; 
 
 But when I am absent for me do not weep, 
 My dearest, my fairest, farewell. 
 
 But still it is hard to leave thee at home. 
 Two hearts that are loving so well; 
 
 O, yes, I do hate to see the time come. 
 My dearest, my fairest, farewell. 
 
 0, yes, I am thinking of time that has past, 
 
 My secrets to you I did tell; 
 But now I must leave the one that I love. 
 
 My dearest, my fairest, farewell. 
 
 0, yes, when I leave thee my darling young girl, 
 I hope you will still wish me well; 
 
 But still I do hate to part from you, dear, 
 My dearest, my fairest, farewell. 
 
 But now I must leave thee my darling at home, 
 My heart is still loving thee well; 
 
 And when I return we both shall be one, 
 My dearest, my fairest, farewell. 
 
42 Nineteenth Century Poems. 
 
 FORSAKEN LOVE. 
 
 Forsaken love is all the go, 
 
 It seems with some on earth below; 
 I often think how much pain, 
 
 Forsaken love has brought on in vain. 
 
 Forsaken love is very bad, 
 
 How many minds has it made sad; 
 And brought them down to sin and shame, 
 
 When this cruel love v\^as all to blame. 
 
 Forsaken love preys on the mind, 
 When often no relief can find; 
 
 At home, abroad, they cannot reside, 
 They will resort to suicide. 
 
 Young men and ladies pra}^ take advice. 
 And try to keep it all through life; 
 
 Forsaken love please let it go, 
 
 And never practice it no more. 
 
 For many men and ladies gay. 
 
 Whose bodies sleep beneath the clay; 
 
 Forsaken love has brought them low, 
 To pass from life to death I know. 
 
 Forsaken love I will now close, 
 
 I hope young ladies all vvill know; 
 
 So now I will bid you all adieu, 
 Forsaken love I'll not pursue. 
 
Nineteenth Century Poems. 43 
 
 FLOWING STREAM. 
 
 Beautiful stream where are you flowing^ 
 
 Down the brook so wide; 
 The flowers look beautiful^ 
 
 Growing at your side. 
 
 Beautiful stream, where are you flowing, 
 Will you not stop awhile withfme; 
 
 0, no, I must be going, 
 To help to fill the sea. 
 
 Beautiful stream, where are you flowing, 
 
 Your v»'aters look so bright; 
 You keep moving all the day. 
 
 And never stop at night. 
 
 Beautiful stream, where are you flowing, 
 
 Down your way so fast; 
 Will you never stop to rest a moment, 
 
 And refresh the flowers and grass. 
 
 Beautiful stream, we all do love you, 
 
 For you keep all things alive; 
 If it were not for your waters. 
 
 All the flowers would not survive. 
 
 Beautiful stream, I love to wander, 
 
 Down upon your banks so green; 
 For I love to hear the sweet birds sing, 
 
 While you are gently gliding down the stream. 
 
44 Nineteenth Century Poems. 
 
 FRET NOT THYSELF 
 
 Fret not thyself because of evil doers^ 
 
 This the holy bible teach^ 
 Be kind to all around you^ 
 . And every one you meet. 
 
 Fret not yourself in sickness^ 
 
 At home or far abroad, 
 But search the sacred scriptures, ■ 
 
 And put your trust in God. 
 
 Fret not thyself while driving, 
 
 A poor old balk}^ horse, 
 But treat him very kindh^, 
 
 And show him you are boss. 
 
 Bont kick and lacerate him, 
 
 Like many people do, • 
 Be kind and gentle to him. 
 
 As you would have him do to you. 
 
 You soon will win him over. 
 
 If you will keep this rule in view. 
 
 Do unto all creation, 
 
 As you would have them do to you. 
 
 Fret not thyself if evil. 
 
 Should some day pass you by. 
 
 But stand up like a soldier 
 And fight it until you die. 
 
Nineteenth Century Poems. 45 
 
 FAIR BUT FALSE 
 
 Today I will compose a song. 
 
 About a girl I have known so long; 
 She caused my heart to ache with pain 
 
 By falling out with me in vain. 
 
 You say you are no more my friend, 
 Your mind for me long has changed; 
 
 The reason wh}^ I plainly see^ 
 
 That you and I will not agree. 
 
 I will leave 3^0 u on the third of June, 
 And never more to you return; 
 
 You have caused my heart to ache with pain^ 
 Your friendship now I do disdain. 
 
 Your smiling face did ease my heart, 
 
 But lying tongues caused us to part; 
 
 I will now from your presence go, 
 
 And never stay with you no more. 
 
46 Nineteenth Century Poems. 
 
 Doctor Fletcher is my name, 
 
 A stranger to this land I came; 
 
 The lies on me some people tell 
 
 Will sink their souls in a burning hell. 
 
 In Texas land I'll no more roam^ 
 
 I will go back to my native home; 
 
 That pretty girl I long to see, 
 
 Who has waited now two years for me. 
 
 Her eyes are of the deepest blue, 
 
 Her hair is black and curly too; 
 
 Her cheeks are red as they can be, 
 O, that's the girl, the girl for me. 
 
 All you who sing this poet's song. 
 
 Please think of him when he is gone; 
 
 And think of her who has lost a friend 
 That never will return again. 
 
Nineteenth Century Poems. 47 
 
 FOUND DEAD. 
 
 The night was calm and very clear^ 
 The stars were shining bright, 
 When death released my little child, 
 Its spirit took its flight. 
 
 On angePs wings its soured away 
 To a better world on high, 
 
 To fly around the throne of God, 
 No more on earth to die. 
 
 Softly did we sleep that night. 
 So quietly upon our beds; 
 
 But, oh! my heart, how it did ache. 
 When I found my child was dead. 
 
 How sad to look upon this child. 
 Its face so pale in death; 
 
 But God has called its spirit home, 
 On earth we all are left. 
 
 Parents you should never grieve. 
 When God will call you home; 
 
 To meet your child in heaven above 
 Around the shining throne. 
 
48 Nineteenth Century Poems. 
 
 FROM KENTUCKY TO TEXAS. 
 
 August the sixth I left my home, 
 
 It was a cloudy dai^; 
 Relations I did bid adieu, 
 
 And went to Texas for to stay. 
 
 At Paduach I got on the boat, 
 And parted with all the boj^s; 
 
 Swiftty I glided down the stream 
 'Till I came to Illinois. 
 
 The cars came in at one o'clock — 
 
 You see that I was luck}^; 
 I got aboard and bid adieu 
 
 To m}^ home in old Kentucky. 
 
 All d&j and night I traveled, 
 
 And many sights I seen; 
 At last she brought me safely 
 
 To the town of Palestine. 
 
 Sabbath morn when I got off 
 The sun was shining clear; 
 
 The littlebirds were singing. 
 Made music to my ear. 
 
 Now I'll finish up my lines, 
 
 And will not write no more; 
 
 I soon will travel back again 
 To m}^ old Kentucky shore. 
 
Nineteenth Century Poems. 49 
 
 GONE TO REST 
 
 Weep not^ dear friends, for she is gone, 
 We, too, must soon follow on; 
 
 And breath our last and latest breath. 
 
 Then close our eyes sink down in death. 
 
 We should not weep for those that's gone, 
 But be prepared to follow on; 
 
 But still it's hard to see them go, 
 
 And leave us weeping here below. 
 
 Weep not, dear children, for mother -dear, 
 But be prepared to follow her; 
 
 For God will call you all away, 
 
 On earth you cannot always stay. 
 
 Weep not, dear husband, for your wife, 
 She w^as the comfort all through life; 
 
 In pleasure or in sickness, too. 
 
 She always was the same to you. 
 
 Weep not, for she is gone to rest, 
 
 Her spirit is forever blest; 
 Her body now sleeps in a tomb, 
 
 Her spirit rests in heaven, home. 
 
50 Nineteenth Century Poems. 
 
 GATHERING FLOWERS. 
 
 As I walked out this morn 
 To view the woods so gay; 
 
 I gathered up a nice bunch of flowers, 
 And formed a nice boquet. 
 
 Some were red and some were white, 
 And some were very blue; 
 
 Oh, how I love to gather flowers, 
 When I've nothing else to do. 
 
 Mollie is my given name, 
 
 And pretty flowers I love; 
 
 The reason I prize them so^ 
 
 They were made by God above. 
 
 The birds are among the flowers, 
 
 A singing in full glee; 
 Oh, how I love to hear them sing, 
 
 As they fly from tree to tree. 
 
 I love to gather roses gay. 
 
 When they are in full bloom; 
 
 I love to tie them up so neat. 
 And smell their sweet perfume. 
 
Nineteenth Century Poems. 51 
 
 HEAVEN 
 
 How sweet to live and breathe fresh air^ 
 That God to us has given, 
 
 But sweeter is that place above, 
 Prepared for us in heaven. 
 
 We often meet with troubles here, 
 On earth they all are given; 
 
 There is a place no troubles come, 
 And that is found in heaven. 
 
 We toil on earth and work through life, 
 But still our hearts are given; 
 
 To love the sin that's found on earth, 
 And cuts us out of heaven. 
 
 We should not grieve if death is near, 
 If our sins are all forgiven; 
 
 We'll go to God in mansions high, 
 And live with Him in Heaven. 
 
52 Nineteenth Century Poems. 
 
 I often think of sinners, here^ 
 
 Whose hearts are still yeat hardened; 
 If they will turn and serve their God, 
 
 He will their sins all pardon. 
 
 Poor sinners will you pray to God, 
 
 And ask to be forgiven; 
 That you may go to that bright home, 
 
 Prepared above in heaven. 
 
 And never wait until too late, 
 
 Your hearts in sin will harden; 
 
 For Jesus says confess me now, 
 Your sins I will all pardon. 
 
 Sinner now prepare thyself. 
 
 In sin you are growing old; 
 Confess your guilt and sinfulness. 
 
 And purify your ever dying soul. 
 
Nineteenth Century Poems. 53 
 
 HAPPY SPRING TIME 
 
 Happy spring has just set in, 
 
 And little birds are on the wing; 
 
 Sweet little birds are in the trees, 
 All singing in their happy glee. 
 
 Happy little birds and bees, 
 
 All flying around the leafy trees; 
 
 Cold winter days are past and gone, 
 
 Bright summer days are coming on. 
 
 Happy flowers look bright and gay, 
 
 Since winter long since has passed away; 
 
 All vegetation will soon be seen, 
 
 Througb out the woods and fields are green. 
 
 Happy little children ever}^ day 
 
 All in the grove of w^oods can plaj^; 
 
 And culling little flowers sweet, 
 
 This shows the works of nature great. 
 
64 Nineteenth Century Poems. 
 
 Happy waters now flowing by, 
 
 Refreshing showers come from on high; 
 To make the vegetation groAv, 
 
 This shows the works of God below. 
 
 Happy spring has come to stay, 
 Winter days hai^e passed away; 
 
 The sleet and snow no longer stay, 
 Until another winter day. 
 
 Happy sun now shining bright. 
 
 The sparkling stars come out at night; 
 And all the little birds will sing, 
 
 In the coming days of cheerful spring. 
 
 Happy spring we love to see, 
 
 To bring the leaves back on the trees; 
 And all the children now can sing, 
 
 The happy days of coming spring. 
 
Nineteenth Century Poems. 55 
 
 HUSBAND, MOTHER AND CHILD. 
 
 My father and mother dear, 
 Has left this world of sin; 
 
 My brother soon followed on, 
 And gone to live with them. 
 
 My father he was first to go, 
 To try the world unknown; 
 
 And next was my dear brother, 
 Who soon did follow on. 
 
 I hope they have gone to heaven, 
 And waiting there for me; 
 
 I hope when God shall call me. 
 Their faces I shall see. 
 
 The last time I saw^ my brother, 
 We were standing in a road; 
 
 But when I heard from him again. 
 He had gone away to God. 
 
 His spirit had took its flight, 
 
 And winged its way to God, 
 
 He has gone to father and mother, 
 
 Who have crossed the Jordan flood. 
 
 I hope when God shall call me, 
 To leave this world of sin; 
 
 That I may go to heaven, 
 
 And live in peace with them. 
 
•66 Nineteenth Century Poems. 
 
 HOPE 
 
 'Tis hope that brightens up our path, 
 And drives all gloom away; 
 
 But if we loose this blessed hope, 
 We will from our dut}^ stray. 
 
 'Tis hope that helps the farmer, 
 
 To labor in his field; 
 For God has ^promised those who sow, 
 
 Will never fail to reap. 
 
 'Tis hope that helps the preacher on, 
 
 The gospel to proclaim; 
 And preach salvation to the world, 
 
 Poor sinners^ hearts to gain. 
 
 'Tis hope that helps the doctor on. 
 
 The sick one for to cure; 
 But if they die he'll still have hope, 
 
 And try to cure the more. 
 
 Tis hope that helps the Christain on. 
 And all through life is sweet; 
 
 Then when he comes to leave this world, 
 His God he hopes to meet. 
 
Nineteenth Century Poems. 57 
 
 HOW TO SELECT A HUSBAND 
 
 I had rather live single and all alone, 
 
 Than to marry a man who won't stay at home; 
 Or when he comes hell fret and say, 
 You have done thus and so today. 
 
 Poor wife, her life has no ease, 
 
 For her husband he is hard to please; 
 
 For if there be a thing that^s lost, 
 He's ready then to drive her off. 
 
 Hell often leave his wife at home, 
 
 And promise to return so soon; 
 And stay away a night and day. 
 
 While she in tears will watch and pray. 
 
 Her tender mind it has no ease. 
 
 Her husband he is hard to please; 
 
 And when the poor wife is sad. 
 The husband gets raging mad. 
 
 His temper he cannot control. 
 
 And at his wife he often scolds; 
 Hell say that she does nothing right, 
 
 While he's the one that loves to fight. 
 
 Now all young girls who read these lines, 
 Be cautious how you choose a man; 
 
 And choose one with a temper right. 
 
 And youll never knoAv how to quarrel and fight. 
 
58 Nineteenth Century Poems. 
 
 HIGH TEMPERED GIRL 
 
 I love you, yes, with all my heart, 
 
 And none but death can make us part; 
 
 And if you think we can agree, 
 I will consent to marry thee. 
 
 And if your temper you can control, 
 
 And promise to never scold; 
 You then can be my little wife. 
 
 And I will love you all my life. 
 
 For bread and meat we will have to eat, 
 
 And other things in plenty; 
 But if our money runs out short, 
 
 Our food will be quite scanty. 
 
 But if we work just like a Turk, 
 
 In sunshine, hot or fair, 
 You will find that we will have meat enough, 
 
 And sometimes bread to spare. 
 
Nineteenth Century Poems. 59 
 
 INDIAN'S LAMENTATION. 
 
 An Indian maiden though dark, yet beautiful 
 and fair, stood on the grassy mound under a 
 spreading oak by the river side, and watched the 
 sun as it was sinking beneath the western horizon, 
 she was thinking of her fallen race, and she sang in 
 beautiful tones: 
 
 And she sang so soft and sweetly, 
 
 That the music floated on the air; 
 This dark eyed Indian maiden, 
 
 With long black streaming hair. 
 
 She sang of her fallen countrymen. 
 
 And of their noble fame; 
 And how this country was their own, 
 
 Before the pale face came. 
 
 She sang in sympathetic tones 
 
 Of mountains, hills and plains; 
 
 And how her race was banished, 
 Since first the pale ones came. 
 
 She sang of their lost birch canoe, 
 
 Will float on lakes no more; 
 When dark eyed maidens sweetty sang, 
 
 Their welcome from the shore. 
 
 She sang then of her fallen race. 
 
 In battles so brave and bold; 
 And how the pale face drove them out, 
 
 Their hunting lands controlled. 
 
60 Nineteenth Century Poems. 
 
 She sang then of her loneliness, 
 
 Of just a solitary one; 
 Whose life is waning into death, 
 
 Like yonders sitting sun. 
 
 She sang of broken Indian camps, 
 And how her race has lied; 
 
 But few are left to mourn with her, 
 While many thousands dead. 
 
 She then sang of the forest lakes, 
 Their beautiful green shore; 
 
 Along where Indian maidens sang. 
 Their voice is heard no more. 
 
 She sang the song her chieftain sang, 
 The story of their fame; ^ 
 
 The glory of our spotless race, 
 Before the pale ones came. 
 
 She sang of the warriors brave, 
 Whose victories in battles won; 
 
 Their bodies sleep low in the earth, 
 Beneath the setting sun. 
 
 And as she sang the moon rose up. 
 
 Its beauties to behold; 
 The star of sunset smile again. 
 
 Like diamonds set in gold. 
 
Nineteenth Century Poems. 61 
 
 As she sang her sweetest notes^ 
 Made music in the air; 
 The beauties of her fallen race, 
 Will neA^er ore be there. 
 
 She sang of beauties that await her, 
 
 Of loved ones lingering in the west; 
 
 And of the happy hunting ground^ 
 Where our race will all be blest. 
 
 And as she sang her farewell song, 
 
 Her heart in weakness grew; 
 The beauties of their hunting ground, 
 
 Had faded from her view. 
 
 And as she sang her farewell note. 
 
 She heard a voice say come; 
 In whispers from the spirit land, 
 
 Beyond the setting sun. 
 
62 Nineteenth Century Poems. 
 
 I AM WAITING FOR YOU 
 
 I am waiting for you darling, 
 
 And the time will swiftly come; 
 
 When we shall be united, 
 
 Two happy hearts in one. 
 
 You know I always loved you, 
 And always told you so; 
 
 Can't be content without you, 
 No matter where I go. 
 
 Your cheeks are like the roses, 
 
 Your teeth are white as pearl; 
 
 You know I always called you, 
 My darling sweet 37-oung girl. 
 
 And when we do get married, 
 I will stay with you at home, 
 
 And never will I leave you. 
 
 In far distant lands to roam. 
 
Nineteenth Century Poems. 63 
 
 When our courting days are over, 
 And we both settle down in Hfe; 
 
 We both will be contented, 
 A happy man and wife. 
 
 We then will make our living, 
 And work from day to day; 
 
 With sunshine all around us, 
 And sunshine on the way. 
 
 We can talk about our youthful days. 
 That has so quickly fled; 
 
 And of the happy days long past, 
 Since you and I were wed. 
 
 When old age comes on us, 
 
 While passing through this life; 
 
 I hope both will be happy. 
 
 Yes, a happy man and wife. 
 
 I hope there will be no grumbling, 
 Like many other couples do; 
 
 But always love each other, 
 
 Just by keeping this in view. 
 
64 Nineteenth Century Poems. 
 
 IN THE MEMORY OF MOTHER. 
 
 Death with its terrors came to our home, 
 And carried our dear mother away; 
 
 Her spirit now rests in heaven above, 
 Her body now sleeps in the clay. 
 
 Wild flowers now blooming over her grave, 
 And soft winds gently murmur around; 
 
 While her spirit rests with the angels above, 
 Her body is sleeping under the mound. 
 
 Mother we miss thee since thou art gone. 
 In heaven we hope you are saved; 
 
 We hear gentle winds moaning around. 
 As it blows softly over your grave. 
 
 But still we know thou art resting in peace, 
 Thy spirit has gone to mansions on high; 
 
 Where sickness and sorrow will never be more, 
 And all tears will be wiped from the eyes. 
 
Nineteenth Century Poems. 65 
 
 Dear mother we know God has called you away,. 
 
 While on earth we shall see you no more; 
 But we hope to meet you in heaven above. 
 
 Where parting will be never more. 
 
 We are so lonely since God called you home, 
 
 To the land of bright angels where sin never comes; 
 
 We miss thy gentle voice and kind sweet face, 
 
 So often when with you our arms would embrace. 
 
 We hope for to meet you on that beautiful shore, 
 Where sickness and sorrow and parting is no 
 more; 
 
 To the land of the blest where angels all dwell, 
 
 We are coming, yes coming dear mother, farewell. 
 
 Now you have left us in this wild world alone, 
 
 Like pilgrims and strangers an exile from home; 
 
 We long to be with you and loved ones to dwell. 
 Will come when God calls us, dear mother farewell. 
 
66 Nineteenth Century Poems. 
 
 IN MEMORY OF ALFRED FLETCHER. 
 
 Thou art gone from this world of sorrow and pain, 
 And death will disturb thee no more; 
 
 Bright angels have borne thy spirit away, 
 To the realms of a beautiful shore. 
 
 Thou hast left far behind kind children to weep, 
 
 A wife who will briny tears shed; 
 As she looks on the grave where flowers bloom, 
 
 And silently weeps over the dead. 
 
 The heart once so cheerful, now sadened in grief^ 
 The cheeks like the roses once bloomed; 
 
 Like the husband who crossed over Jordan cold death, 
 Must finally sleep in the tomb. 
 
 Oh father of heaven relieve broken hearts, 
 Of those who mourn over the dead; 
 
 Then may they go through this vile world of sin. 
 And by thy kind spirit be led. 
 
 Farewell to all loved ones I bid you adieu. 
 Trust in the Savior his path still pursue; 
 
 For He will be ^^^ith you when life shall end. 
 
 Be a father to the orphan to the widow a friend. 
 
Nineteenth Century Poems. 67 
 
 IN TORMENT. 
 
 Oh! wretched sinner, behold your fate, 
 Your time in pleasure spent; 
 
 You turned God's holy word off, 
 And down to ruin went. 
 
 You loved the pleasures of this world, 
 And mocked God's holy name, 
 
 Your soul is lost, forever lost, 
 And doomed to fiery flame. 
 
 Too late! too late! you can't come back, 
 No earthly power can save; 
 
 Repentance never can be sought. 
 Beyond the dark cold grave. 
 
 In health you glided on in sin. 
 Your pleasures to pursue; 
 Too late you find the holy word. 
 Of Scripture to be true. 
 
 You worshiped gold and silver here, 
 
 ^And all your earthly store; 
 And now you're lost, forever lost. 
 To be redeemed no more. 
 
68 Nineteenth Century Poems. 
 
 IN REMEMBRANCE. 
 
 Written on the death of the wife of Dr. -D/;^C. 
 Hopkins which occurred only five days after marriage. 
 
 Death overshadowed mj^ pathway, 
 
 And took the bright jewel I loved; 
 
 Borne away on the pinions of angels, 
 To a beautiful mansion above. 
 
 Where sickness and death cannot enter, 
 There parting will be never more; 
 
 She has gone to the bright realms of glory, 
 To live on Canaan's bright shore. 
 
 How short was her life after marriage. 
 
 For God soon called her away; 
 Like a flower, she bloomed for a season. 
 
 On earth not permitted to stay. 
 
 Thy husband who is now broken hearted. 
 
 To live in this sad world alone; 
 His companion, the joy of his bosom, 
 
 So quickly was taken from his home. 
 
 Weep not for the wife that has left you, 
 
 Her trials and sufferings are o'er; 
 Prepare to meet her in heaven., 
 
 Where parting will be nevermore. 
 
 May God and his angels be with you. 
 
 In all your trials through life; 
 'After death may angels then bear you, 
 To heaven to join with your wife. 
 
 Her spirit is resting in heaven, 
 
 While her body is turning to dust; 
 ' She sings the sweet anthems in glory, 
 With angels and all that is just. 
 
Nineteenth Centuky Poems. 69 
 
 JACOB'S VISION. 
 
 It was down in the valley, 
 
 Where Jaco? made his bed; 
 
 A rock was for a pillow, 
 To rest his v/eary head. 
 
 It was there he saw a vision, 
 To show that God is love; 
 
 A host of heavenly angels, 
 Descended from above. 
 
 He saw a mighty ladder, 
 Reaching to the skies; 
 
 And angels descending. 
 
 And ascending all the night. 
 
 When he beheld the vision, 
 
 In the darkness of the night; 
 
 The angels were all around him. 
 And filled him with delight. 
 
70 Nineteenth Century Poems. 
 
 God sends his holy angels, 
 In visions and in dreams; 
 
 And if we only trust him, 
 
 Our souls he will redeem. 
 
 When Jacob beheld that vision, 
 And angels moving all around; 
 
 He felt like he was standing, 
 No doubt, on hold ground. 
 
 There among the hills and jagged rocKs, 
 AVhere wild beasts often roam; 
 
 Jacob made a coA^enant with his soul. 
 And rearer' an altar made of stone. 
 
 It was there he saw the pathwa}^ plain, 
 
 Led up from earth to heaven so bright; 
 
 Angelic messengers come and go, 
 
 With garments all so pure and white. 
 
Nineteenth Century Poems. 71 
 
 LITTLE ROSA LEE 
 
 Dear little Rosalie is gone, 
 
 To live with God in heaven; 
 
 She joined the holy angel* band, 
 Before she was quite seven. 
 
 Her cheeks were red just like a rose, 
 
 But soon did pass away; 
 For God did call her spirit home, 
 
 Her body to the clay. 
 
 Don't weep, dear father, for your child, 
 She has left you far behind; 
 
 She has paid the debt you will have to pay, 
 Now or some other time. 
 
 *Tis true it is hard to give her up, 
 The one you dearly love; 
 But God was pleased to call her home, 
 To dwell with him above. 
 
 Father now prepare yourself. 
 
 While here on earth you roam; 
 
 And fit your soul to meet your child, 
 AVhen God shall call it home. 
 
72 
 
 Nineteenth Century Poems. 
 
 LOVE 
 
 Love is a passion strong, 
 
 And oft times effects the brain; 
 Brings on burdens to the mind, 
 
 And fills the heart with pain. 
 
 Love will rage in every heart, 
 The young and all the old; 
 
 Oft times the passion is too strong, 
 And cannot be controlled. 
 
 Love is like the Avind that blows, 
 
 Sometimes ^twill quickly change; 
 
 And drive a dagger through the heart. 
 And destrov the victim's brain. 
 
Nineteenth Century Poems. 73 
 
 Moses before Pharaoh, preparing to lead 
 
 the Children of Israel out of Egyptian Bondage. — 
 
 It is night in the capital of Pharaoh, 
 This mighty monarch there of old; 
 
 Has vowed by all the powers on earth, 
 
 That Moses shall see his face no more. 
 
 He has sworn by the life of Pharaoh, 
 This Hebrew Moses whom he hates; 
 
 Shall nevermore enter his mansion, 
 
 But shall die within the palace gates. 
 
 When the sun rose up in the eastern horizon, 
 The children of Israel went marching on; 
 
 Then Moses the Hebrew commander. 
 
 Led them six hundred thousand strong. 
 
 He led them on through the desert, 
 A path where they never had trod; 
 
 When a light appeared in the distance, 
 This light Y/as the pilloY^ of .God. 
 
 This was a guide for the journey, 
 
 This light hung far overhead; 
 When Moses the servant of Israel, 
 
 By the spirit of Jehovah was led. 
 
74 Nineteenth Century Poems. 
 
 The light moved on in the distance, 
 Until it hung just over the sea; 
 
 The children of Israel all murmured, 
 To cross over this never can be. 
 
 Then Moses the Lord's great captain, 
 Stood by with a rod in his hand; 
 
 When he commanded, the waters divided, 
 All crossed safely oA^er dry land. 
 
 Moses and all of the children. 
 
 Then crossed safely over the sea; 
 
 And all sing the song of triumph. 
 To the God who set them free. 
 
 Then Pharaoh came on with his army, 
 
 To cross over the sea they were bound; 
 
 But the Lord turned loose the great waters 
 
 And Pharaoh with his host was all drowned. 
 
Nineteenth Century Poems. 75 
 
 MY FATHER. 
 
 Dear father, your steps have grown weary, 
 Through many years of labor and pain; 
 
 But I know you remember with pleasure, 
 The words of the Lamb that was slain. 
 
 Be faithful, be prayerful, don't falter, 
 For God to his promise is true; 
 When death comes to Adsit you father, 
 Bright angels will carry you through. 
 
 For the Savior does say in His teachings, 
 T To~those who believe in His word; 
 That He will not leave or forsake them, 
 But to them be a father and God. 
 
 Many years have you toiled and traveled, 
 :^.^ . And the^ gospel you have preached abroad; 
 You have warned poor sinners so often, 
 To flee to the mercies of God. 
 
76 Nineteenth Century Poems. 
 
 Death o'ershadows your pathway, 
 
 In flesh you have suffered much pain; 
 
 But at last you have crossed over Jordan, 
 And rest with the Lamb that was slain. 
 
 The dark grave imprisons the body, 
 That is now turning back to dust; 
 
 And the spirit is resting in heaven, 
 With angels and all that is just. 
 
 Father, I will follow your footsteps, 
 
 The cross of my Savior I will bear; 
 
 And 111 try to meet you in heaven. 
 
 Then 111 rest with the angels up there. 
 
 Then we'll sing God's praises together. 
 In our Father's mansion above. 
 
 And we shall never, no, never be severed, 
 
 In that bright and blessed home of love. 
 
Nineteenth Century Poems. 77 
 
 MISS MATTIE C 
 
 My single days will soon be past, 
 And married then I will be; 
 
 Farewell to my old sweet heart, 
 Farewell my Mattie C. 
 
 Long many days we courted. 
 
 Our hearts were in full glee. 
 Bnt now I'm going to marry, 
 Farewell, Miss Mattie C. 
 
 Oh yes, I still remember, 
 
 The letter you sent to me; 
 
 And how you filled it up with love, 
 Composed by Mattie C. 
 
 And when I read vour letter, 
 Mp heart was full of glee; 
 
 To hear you talk so sweetly, 
 My dearest Mattie C. 
 
 But at last your mind did change, 
 And I am glad, you see; 
 
 For I will marry a pretty girl. 
 And not Miss Mattie C. 
 
78 Nineteenth Century Poems. 
 
 MY MOTHER. 
 
 I cannot forget you, mother, 
 
 While we are far apart; 
 I know when I was a child, 
 
 You pressed me to j^our heart. 
 
 I know when it was midnight, 
 
 And all was sound asleep; 
 In sickness you watched oA^er me, 
 
 And sometimes had to weep. 
 
 And often, when a child, 
 
 You held me to your breast; 
 
 With folded arms around your neck, 
 In sleep I soon did rest. 
 
 And now you have grown to ripe old age. 
 
 And troubles you will see; 
 Since I've left my native state. 
 
 And wandered far from thee. 
 
 But many years have passed away, 
 Since I was but a child; 
 
 When I look upon your face. 
 
 And watch your pleasant smiles. 
 
Nineteenth Century Poems. 79 
 
 NATURE'S GOD. 
 
 Spring has gone and summer is here, 
 
 The sun shines bright, the sky is clear; 
 
 Grass and flowers spring from the sod, 
 
 This proves the works of Nature's God. 
 
 The fields today are clothed in green, 
 
 And fruits of various kinds are seen; 
 
 And all the flowers comes from the sod, 
 This proves the work of Nature's god. 
 
 Look at the mountain towering high, 
 
 Beneath the sun and bright blue sky; 
 
 Wild flowers spring up from the sod. 
 
 And bows their heads to Nature's God. 
 
 Look at the trees on forest stands, 
 
 That covers over this beautiful land; 
 
 And every bough and leaf will nod. 
 In reverence to our Nature's god. 
 
 Look at the springs from mountains flow. 
 The crystal waters onward go; 
 
 Refresh the grass, flowers and sod. 
 All working by the hand of God. 
 
 Look at that man with powerful brain, 
 Who strives for fortune and for fame; 
 
 Must leave it all here on the sod. 
 
 And take his flight to Nature's God. 
 
80 Ninp:teenth Century Poems. 
 
 NOT TOO LATE. 
 
 Sinner, will you stop and think, 
 About your wretched fate? 
 
 A-nd if you wait till after death, 
 You'll be too late! too late! 
 
 For Jesus Christ has died for all, 
 His suffering was great; 
 
 If you through life reject his call, 
 Youll be too late! too late! 
 
 Repent, believe His Holy Word, 
 And trust him for his sake; 
 
 Then when you die. He'll never cry, 
 Too late! too late! too late. 
 
 For angels will rejoice above, 
 Throw open wide the gate; 
 
 And bear the glorious message home, 
 Thank God, its not too late! 
 
Nineteenth Century Poems. 81 
 
 MISS MARGIE 
 
 Farewell, Miss Marcie, farewell to thee, 
 I now must leave and go away; 
 
 Por Palestine I soon must see, 
 
 That pretty town that's far from me. 
 
 But I hate to leave you here, 
 
 Your friendship that I prize so dear, 
 But still the best of friends must part. 
 Although its painful to my heart. 
 
 For many pleasures we did see. 
 
 When I was staying here with thee; 
 
 But the time has come today, 
 
 When I from you must go away. 
 
 But yet it's hard to part from thee, 
 
 M}^ friendship it still clings to thee; 
 
 And still I hope that your's the same. 
 
 And will never forget this poet's name. 
 
 These pretty lines I write for you. 
 
 Will prove my friendship pure and true; 
 
 And if on earth we meet no more, 
 
 I hope we'll meet on heaven's shore. 
 
82 Nineteenth Century Poems. 
 
 OLD YEAR PASSING. 
 
 How fast the time is passing off, 
 This year will soon be gone; 
 
 The summer is now near nigh spent, 
 And autumn days are coming on. 
 
 Then the leaves begin to fall, 
 On earth will soon decay; 
 
 And the fruits will all be ripe. 
 Bright autumns golden days. 
 
 Then after fall the winter comes, 
 Cold chilly winds will blow; 
 
 And often peirce our tender frames. 
 With cold rain, sleet and snow. 
 
 Then winter will soon pass away, 
 
 When spring-time is drawing near; 
 
 The birds will sing their sweetest note. 
 And make music to our ear. 
 
Nineteenth Century Poems. 83 
 
 The trees again put on their leaves, 
 Just wonderful to behold; 
 
 The roses all will come again, 
 Their beauties to unfold. 
 
 The birds will fly from tree to tree, 
 Their sweetest notes will sing; 
 
 And every heart will beat for joy, 
 In the coming days of spring. 
 
 Then the earth will reproduce, 
 
 A carpet soft and green; 
 Will come forth since the winter days, 
 
 To welcome the coming spring.. 
 
 Dark winter clouds have passed away, 
 The sun warms up the earth; 
 
 And all the flowers are in full bloom^ 
 For Nature gives them birth. 
 
S4 Nineteenth Century Poems. 
 
 ON TROUBLES. 
 
 When troubles come upon my mind, 
 
 My heart beats so slow; 
 But when I think of friends so kind, 
 
 My troubles from me go. 
 
 It is trouble breaks the husband's heart, 
 And caused him to weep and mourn; 
 
 To leave his wife and children dear. 
 And wander far from home. 
 
 •Tis troubles breaks the young man's heart. 
 
 And brings him down to shame; 
 To drinking whiskey and playing cards. 
 
 They scandalize his name. 
 
 'Tis trouble breaks the father's heart. 
 When his children from him go; 
 
 To wander in far distant lands, 
 And stay with him no more. 
 
 'Tis trouble that breaks the poor mother's heart,. 
 
 And causes her to weep and mourn; 
 When she takes her children's parting hand, 
 
 As they wander far from home. 
 
 'Tis trouble breaks poor sister's heart, 
 
 When brothers from her go; 
 To wander in far distant lands. 
 
 And never come back more. 
 
Nineteenth Century Poems. 86 
 
 ON EDUCATION. 
 
 Young students will you listen, 
 To this speech of mine; 
 Made upon education, 
 So beautiful it rhymes. 
 
 I want an education, 
 
 This shall be my plan; 
 
 To study hard in school, 
 
 And make a useful man. 
 
 I would like to be a preacher, 
 To get up on a stand; 
 
 Talk of the heavenly mansions, 
 And all of God's commands. 
 
 I want to be like Washington, 
 A great and noble man; 
 
 Whose name is written in history, 
 And for centuries it will stand. 
 
 Young students are you willing, 
 To try this useful plan; 
 
 Climb the hill of knowledge, 
 And make a useful man. 
 
86 Nineteenth Century Poems. 
 
 PLEADING FOR JESUS. 
 
 I rejoice in our Savior, 
 
 Our hearts He filled with love; 
 He has prepared a home for us, 
 
 High up in heaven above. 
 
 I hope to meet my father, 
 
 And my little children three; 
 
 My brothers and my sisters, 
 Are waiting there for me. 
 
 Come brother now and join us. 
 Turn from the road of sin; 
 
 Believe and trust in Jesus, 
 
 His blood will make you clean. 
 
 Dear mother must we leave you. 
 In this sinful world of woe; 
 
 Confess your blessed Savior, 
 
 And to heaven a^ou can go. 
 
Nineteenth Century Poems. 87 
 
 Come join in with your children, 
 There is room for many more; 
 
 We must strive the master tells us, 
 If we ever enter heaven's door. 
 
 We have trials and temptations. 
 
 And many sorrows here below; 
 
 All who will confess the Lord, 
 To heaven they can go. 
 
 For we should be united. 
 
 If divided some would fall; 
 
 There is mansions up in heaven. 
 There is room enough for all. 
 
 And when our life is ended. 
 
 Here in this sinful world below; 
 
 Then all shall be united, 
 
 In that happy home to go. 
 
88 Nineteenth Century Poems. 
 
 PAST LIFE. 
 
 I love to think of the day that's past; 
 
 The time forever gone; 
 But sweet still when I think, 
 
 Of future days to come. 
 
 When I was scarcely sixteen years old, 
 My heart di-d beat with joy; 
 
 To see how happj^ I was then, 
 When nothing but a boy. 
 
 But now 111 soon be twenty-six, 
 
 Still single yet in life; 
 It is time that I was out 
 
 A hunting me a wife. 
 
 There is a lady in this land, 
 
 If I should be so lucky; 
 111 marry her and settle down 
 
 So far from old Kentucky. 
 
 My pen is bad, I cannot write. 
 
 My ink is quite blue; 
 If you who will these verses read. 
 
 You will find them all quite true. 
 
 Although I will soon be twenty-six, 
 My heart stillbeats with joy; 
 
 To look back on days that passed, 
 When I was but a boy. 
 
Nineteenth Century Poems 89 
 
 PASSING AWAY 
 
 Sabbath^ bright morning^ is passing away, 
 Earth's vegetation will soon decay; 
 
 Death's terrors will soon lay us low, 
 
 Our spirits soon to another v/orld go. 
 
 The old and young are fast passing away, 
 
 Bloom on the cheek in death will decay; 
 
 Prepare, thyself, sinner, while j^et there is time, 
 Soon God wdllcall thee to heaven's bright clime. 
 
 For death is now traveling our country around, 
 The rich and the poor are often cut down; 
 
 Our spirits must shortly all pass away, 
 
 While our bodies must moulder low down in the 
 clav. 
 
90 Nineteenth Century Poems. 
 
 REMEMBRANCE. 
 
 Remember me my youthful friend, 
 
 When over this little missive you bend; 
 
 It is sign of love to thee, 
 
 Then in return remember me. 
 
 Remember days we spent in school, 
 
 And how we obeyed the teachers rule; 
 
 And how he did let us boys play, 
 
 And jump the rope three times a day. 
 
 Remember how we did play base. 
 
 And around the woods each other chase; 
 
 Then finish up on the grapevine swing, 
 Before the teacher called us in. 
 
 Remember how we all did spell. 
 
 And strive to get our lessons well, 
 
 And all us boys sat on one seat, 
 
 With not a shoe upon our feet. 
 
Nineteenth Century Poems. 91 
 
 Remember now those days gone by, 
 
 I sometimes laugh and sometimes sigh; 
 
 To think how happy we were then, 
 
 Remember how^ we are nearing the end. 
 
 Remember those who have passed away, 
 
 Around the old school house did play; . 
 
 When you and I just in our teens, 
 
 With the boys and girls on the village green. 
 
 Our school-mates some have passed away, 
 Now sleeping in the cold, cold clay; 
 
 Remember too when we were boys. 
 Those happy days we did enjoy. 
 
 Remember now we are far apart. 
 
 In life we may never each other see; 
 
 But all I ask of you dear friend. 
 
 Just often read and think of me. 
 
92 Nineteenth Century Poems. 
 
 RETURN MY RING. 
 
 Kind sir, since I have moved away, 
 
 Your heart with me no longer stay; 
 
 You will just please my picture send, 
 And I will claim vou as a friend. 
 
 My love to you it once was true, 
 
 But it has changed since I left you; 
 
 I'll ask you here about one thing, 
 
 Please send me back my golden ring. 
 
 There are other girls in your state, 
 
 Will marry you just soon or late; 
 
 But give me up and do not weep. 
 
 My heart for you will never beat. 
 
 Please think of me just as a friend. 
 My love to you is at an end; 
 
 My heart you can never gain. 
 
 For you I will not change my name. 
 
Nineteenth Century Poems. 93 
 
 SECRET PRAYER. 
 
 I never can forget the day, 
 
 When I was all alone; 
 My mind was then reflecting back, 
 
 On friends I left at home. 
 
 I then resorted to the grove, 
 
 Knelt down in secret prayer; 
 
 *Tis true that I was all alone, 
 But Jesus met me there. 
 
 My sins had crowded o'er my heart, 
 The tears were in my eyes; 
 
 I knew that all my friends had fled, 
 But Jesus was near by. 
 
 With tearful eyes I then did pray, 
 And Jesus took my part; 
 
 He sent his loving kindness down. 
 To purify my heart. 
 
 Old Satan met me in the grove. 
 To lead me then astray; 
 
 But Jesus was standing by, 
 And drove him far away. 
 
94 Nineteenth Century Poems. 
 
 SACRED MOUNTAIN. 
 
 On yonders sacred mountain, 
 
 I never can forget; 
 Jesus taught his diciples, 
 
 To follow in his steps. 
 
 Taught them to love each other, 
 
 And their burdens would be light; 
 
 To preach the glorious gospel, 
 Keep Satan out of sight. 
 
 Taught them to love the humble, 
 And always treat them kind; 
 
 And heal afflicted people, 
 
 Restore the lame and blind. 
 
 Taught them to love their neighbor. 
 His blessed words are true; 
 
 To do unto all the people, 
 
 As you would have them do to you. 
 
Nineteenth Century Poems. 95 
 
 He taught the broken hearted, 
 
 Deliverance will come; 
 He will impart a blessing, 
 
 And give to every one. 
 
 On that sacred mountain, 
 
 The holy bible teach; 
 And unto his diciples. 
 
 The glorious gospel preach. 
 
 He taught his diciples how to live. 
 
 But never how to die; 
 And told them of the many mansions, 
 
 Prepared for them on high. 
 
 He taught them how each should live. 
 While here on earth they remain; 
 
 He told them when he left them. 
 That he would return again. 
 
 He told them of the many mansions, 
 Prepared for them on high. 
 
 How he left His Father's Kingdom, 
 Coijie down on earth to die. 
 
96 Nineteenth Century Poems. 
 
 SHIP IN MID-OCEAN, 
 
 It was midnight on the waters 
 And many miles from shore, 
 
 Thick darkness all around us 
 
 While the thunder loudly roared. 
 
 The storm kept up its raging 
 
 While the lightning played its part, 
 Brave sailors stood on duty 
 
 With a heavy restless heart. 
 
 The mighty waves came rushing 
 
 And would burst upon her sides, 
 
 The sailors Avorked like heroes 
 
 And watched her stem the tide. 
 
 The storm kept up its raging, 
 The tempest loudh^ roared, 
 
 And the mighty ship was driven 
 So manv leagues from shore 
 
Nineteenth-Century Poems. 97 
 
 When the great A^essel is in danger 
 And the waves run high on sea, 
 
 Jesus calms the boisterous waves 
 As on the vSea of Galilee. 
 
 When the storm of life is over 
 And the surges cease to roll, 
 
 The christian is anchored safely 
 
 Then will enter the heavenly fold. 
 
 But at last the darkness vanished 
 And the tempest ceased to roar, 
 
 The old ship stemed the current 
 
 And anchored safely to the shore. 
 
 Then all on board was happy 
 
 As they walked upon the sand, 
 
 For God was on the ocean 
 
 Just the same as on the land. 
 
98 Nineteenth Century Poems. 
 
 SUICIDE OF A YOUNG LADY. 
 
 All young people in this state^ 
 
 Come listen while I here relate, 
 
 And tell you of a lady fair, 
 
 Who brought on death in deep despair. 
 
 Her troubled mind did have no ease, 
 Nothing but death could give relief, 
 
 Her rosy cheeks that bloomed so gay, 
 Alas in death did fade away. 
 
 A doctor shop was in the town, 
 
 This lovely girl did there go in. 
 
 And strychnine she did chance to take. 
 Too soon did cause her heart to ache. 
 
 The reason why this lady gay. 
 
 Brought on her death in such a way. 
 
 Her sweet-heart who lived on this land. 
 Had promised her his heart and hand, 
 
 His promise then he soon did break, 
 
 Which caused her loving heart to ache, 
 
 And strychnine down her throat did go, 
 
 Which stopped her breath for ever-more. 
 
 Her many friends did weep around. 
 
 To view the corpse laid in the ground, 
 
 Her spirit then to God did go, 
 To live in peace for e^^^er-more. 
 
Nineteenth Century Poems. 99 
 
 SCENES ON THE MOUNTAINS. 
 
 Mount Ararat is a sacre placed as the scriptures do 
 record, 
 
 It was there that Noah's Ark did rest after that aw- 
 ful flood. 
 
 For , mountains they are sacred, Jesus often resorted 
 there. 
 
 To be all alone in solitude and spend the night in 
 prayer. 
 
 I think I hear his sacred voice while being there alone, 
 1 he gentle windKS will fan his brow upon that 
 
 mountain home, 
 And angels v, ill from glory come, all bdautiful and fair 
 While Jesus kneels on the mountain top, lifts up 
 
 his ^ oice in prayer. 
 
 It was on a mountain where Moses wrote the ten 
 
 Co mmandment h, 
 And talked with God our father as man should talk 
 
 to man. 
 While Moses stood and did converse with God on 
 
 holy ground. 
 The light of God the father in glory shone all around. 
 
 When Moses left the sacred spot, no longer to remain 
 
 Had wrote the ten commandments, as the scrip- 
 tures teach the same, 
 
 We see those towering mountains, they hold a sacred 
 name, 
 
 For it was from a mountain plain, the Prophet 
 Elijah came. 
 
 r, o 
 « * * 
 
100 Nineteenth Centupy Poems. 
 
 We hold these mountains sacred^that tower up so high 
 They prove the mighty works of God. beneath 
 
 the bright blue sky, 
 When Christ was transfigarated before Peter, James 
 
 and John, 
 And on the scenes there did appear two witnesss 
 
 of God. 
 
 Moses and Elias stood on that sacred mountain peak 
 And being overshadowed with a cloud, God was heard 
 
 to speak, 
 This is my beloved son, hear him the voice did say, 
 Then Moses and Elias from the mountain passed 
 
 away. 
 
 Then Abraham the patriarch the faithful one of old, 
 God called him in the night, and a solemn message 
 
 told, 
 Go take thy son Isaac and upon the mountain plain^ 
 There slay him for an offering, this filled his heart 
 
 with pain. 
 
 But Abraham was faithful and God he did obey, 
 He took his son his only son and slowly marched 
 
 away, 
 Three days they had to travel, till at last they came 
 
 in sight. 
 Of the mountain where God told him to make 
 
 the sacrifice. 
 
Nineteenth Century Poems. 101 
 
 Abraham and Isaac went upon that mountain high, 
 And there he built an altar, for Isaac here must die, 
 He knew the solemn message, but all must be fulfilled. 
 For Abraham the faithful obeyed his fathers will. 
 
 When everything was ready, the knife was raised 
 
 in hand, 
 
 To fulfill this awful mission, obey God's great 
 
 command, 
 A voice came from heaven, it was an angel spoke, 
 He called aloud to Abraham, make not that fatal 
 
 stroke. 
 
 God had prepared a sacrifice, a ram stood all alone. 
 And Abraham this ram he slew and offered him 
 
 thereon. 
 In reading of the scriptures, the truth to all is plain, 
 This old patriarch was willing for Isaac to be slain. 
 
102 Nineteenth Century Poems. 
 
 SABBATH SCHOOL CHILDREN, 
 
 Come all ye little children, 
 
 And go to sabbath school, 
 Came read and talk of Jesus, 
 
 And learn his golden rule. 
 
 Come and read of Jesus, 
 
 Who died upon the cross. 
 That all of us poor sinners, 
 
 Souls should not be lost. 
 
 Come and read the bible, 
 
 And pray to God above. 
 He will all your sins forgive. 
 
 And fill your hearts with loA^e. 
 
 Come on ye little children, 
 
 And read the book of god. 
 
 Come drive old Satan from your path, 
 And love and serve your God. 
 
 Come all ye little children. 
 
 And sing the songs of love. 
 Come offer up your prayers. 
 
 To God who lives above. 
 
 Come along dear parents. 
 
 With your children go to school, 
 And talk to them of Jesus, 
 
 And teach his 2;olden rule. 
 
NlNETEilNTH CENTURY POEMS 103 
 
 SHE LOVED ANOTHER. 
 
 Why should you break this heart of mine 
 And cast me from your side, 
 
 Then fall in love with some other man 
 At last to become his bride? 
 
 Must my affections now be cast 
 
 Far, far away from you? 
 Please answer in your next address, 
 
 And tell me what to do. 
 
 If I should wander far away, 
 
 No one will take my part; 
 But drive a dagger through m}^ breast 
 
 And pierce a faithful heart. 
 
 But still and I must part from you, 
 The girl T once did love so true; 
 
 And all our days on earth be past. 
 
 Let sorrows break my heart at last. 
 
 Where I must shed the briny tears, 
 All for the one I loved so dear; 
 
 I have no friend to take my part, 
 Nor comfort for a broken heart. 
 
104 Nineteenth Century Poems. 
 
 SICKNESS AND DEATH. 
 
 I have often stood by the bedside 
 
 And watched the last breath start, 
 
 I have often seen the dear friends weep, 
 With a heavy aching heart. 
 
 I have often visited the sick , 
 
 While they were racked with pain, 
 
 I have heard their dying groans 
 To seek relief in vain. 
 
 I have often seen them very sick. 
 
 Sometimes for months and years, 
 
 I have often seen their dear friends weep, 
 And bathe their eyes in tears. 
 
 I have often seen the little, babe 
 Taken from its mother's breast; 
 
 I know that God will call it home, 
 In heaven it will be blest. 
 
 I have often followed to the grave 
 And took the last, long vsight, 
 
 And seen them covered with the sod, 
 Shut out from days so bright. 
 
Nineteenth Century Poems. 105 
 
 SABBATH SCHOOL. 
 
 Come along dear parents, 
 
 Come out on Sabbath day; 
 
 Come meet us in the Sabbath School, 
 And help to sing and pray. 
 
 This school is for your children, 
 As you all can plainly see, 
 
 To teach of our blessed Jesus, 
 Who died upon the tree. 
 
 Come along, dear parents, 
 
 And read God^s holy word; 
 
 Come and teach your children 
 To love and serve the Lord. 
 
 Bring them up in Sabbath School, 
 That is the wa}^ I know; 
 
 When they get old to Sabbath School, 
 They will always love to go. 
 
 Come along, dear parents, 
 No time should we delay, 
 
 Come meet us in the Sabbath School, 
 And help to sing and pray. 
 
 Come read of blessed Jesus, 
 
 Who died that we might live. 
 
 If we will only serve him, 
 Our sins he will forgive. 
 
106 Nineteenth Centu-RY Poems. 
 
 THE BASHFUL YOUNG MAN. 
 
 T knew a man some years ago, 
 
 On courting he was very slow, 
 
 But still he loved a girl I knew, 
 
 Who lived in the town of Tajdor. 
 
 This bashful man lived not in town, 
 
 But just two miles he can be found. 
 His neighbors know for miles around, 
 • That he loves a girl in Taylor. 
 
 This bashful man is single 3^et, 
 
 Although this girl he could not get, 
 
 In all love scrapes he gets up-set, 
 
 He still loves the girl in Taylor. 
 
 This bashful man I will give no name, 
 And then on me can be no blame, 
 
 For fun I will call him Jimmy C, 
 
 And you can guess the rest for me. 
 
 I hope some day he'll find his mate. 
 And settle doY\^n in Texas state, 
 
 Then be a man both wise and great, 
 \nd give up the girl in Taylor. 
 
 This bashful man I will bid adieu, 
 
 I trust his courtships will prove true, 
 
 And some dear girl ^vill give her hand. 
 To join with him in wedlock band. 
 
Nineteenth Century Poems. 107 
 
 THOUGHTS WHILE ALONE, 
 
 Toda}^ as I am all alone, 
 
 And far from my dear native home, 
 I often think of friends I love, 
 
 Who have gone to God in heaven above. 
 
 'Tis true on earth they could not stay, 
 For God did call their souls away, 
 
 They left this world of sin and gloom, 
 And gone to live in heaven's home. 
 
 'Tis true I'll never meet them more, 
 This side of Canaan's happ}^ shore, 
 
 But if my prayer to God ascends, 
 
 In heaven I hope to meet my friends. 
 
 ''Tib true they passed this vale of tears, 
 
 They lived on earth for many years, 
 
 But alas their time did come. 
 
 To trv another world unknown. 
 
 'Tis true friends Vve far, far behind, 
 They often dwell upon my mind. 
 
 And often it grieves my heart, 
 Because we are so far apart. 
 
 'Tis true we'll meet some da}^ above, 
 And then unite with God in love. 
 
 Nor never more will we part. 
 
 Nor feel the pains of a broken heart. 
 
108 Nineteenth Century Poems. 
 
 TIME AND ITS FLIGHT. 
 
 Stop one moment /'Oh time in your flight 
 Tell me has thou not found some spot, 
 
 In all thy round of this wide world 
 
 Where miserable man may find a happier lot." 
 
 The sun with its shining rays passed on 
 
 Behind a cloud the moon withdrew in woe, 
 
 And the stars came forth with silver}^ light 
 
 Then a voice, calm but sweetly, responded no." 
 
 Tell me ''oh thou secret soul, I trust 
 
 Is there no place on earth to be found. 
 
 Where grief may find a balm and weariness a rest 
 A place for every soul and home for all the blest." 
 
 Tell me is there no happy spot on earth 
 
 For dying mortals here below. 
 All is sickness pain and death 
 
 For all man-kind while here we know. 
 
 There is no resting place here on earth 
 
 Trials, suffering, sorrow, pain and woe, 
 
 But far beyond this veil of tears 
 
 Lies the land of rest for ever more. 
 
 There is a happy spot where mortals may have rest 
 God has prepared a place for all the blest. 
 
 Faith, hope and love, to all mankind is given 
 And angels whisper, ''Yes in heaven." 
 
Nineteenth Century Poems. 109 
 
 THE CREATION OF THE WORLD. 
 
 When God first created 
 
 The beast and all the land, 
 He saw that all was very ,o;ood 
 
 He then created man. 
 
 He said at first it was not good 
 
 For man to live alone, 
 Let us make man a help meet, 
 
 To live with man at home. 
 
 So then he put the man -to sleep, 
 
 A rib took from his side, 
 A woman then he made complete, 
 
 And she became his bride. 
 
 He placed them both in Eden soil, 
 
 A garden in full bloom. 
 He showed them all the fruits to eat, 
 
 And fruits to let alone. 
 
 The fruit of knowledge thou must not eat. 
 
 For thou shall surety die, 
 Although the fruit looked very great 
 
 And pleasing to the eye. 
 
 The serpent in the garden came, 
 
 And to mother Eve did lie, 
 He told her to eat of this fruit. 
 
 And she would never die. 
 
 But when she did eat of the fruit, 
 
 And gave to her good man. 
 Right there sin came into the world, 
 
 And broke the Lord's command. 
 
110 Nineteenth Century Poems. 
 
 THE OLD FAMILIAR BRIDGE. 
 
 I stood on the bridge at twilight, 
 And watched the stream below, 
 
 And counted the people by hundreds, 
 As I saw them come and go. 
 
 As I looked far up the river, 
 
 And viewed the mountains high. 
 
 All covered over with flowers. 
 
 Beneath the bright blue sky. 
 
 As I saw her bright reflection. 
 
 In the waters flowing under me. 
 
 Just like a golden goblet falling. 
 
 And running to the deep blue sea. 
 
 How often; Oh, how often. 
 
 In those happy days gone by, 
 
 I have stood on the bridge at twilight. 
 And gazed on the deep blue sky. 
 
NiNETEEVTH CeNTURY PoEMS. Ill 
 
 Far away in the hazy distance, 
 Of that lovely night in May, 
 
 The moon came up in her splendor, 
 And scattered the darkness away. 
 
 And I think how many hundred, 
 
 Have crossed the bridge since then, 
 
 Each bearing his burden of sorrow, 
 Will never cross it again. 
 
 I see the long procession, 
 
 Still passing to and fro, 
 The young hearts quick and restless, 
 
 The old ones some what slow. 
 
 If again I cross that grand old bridge 
 
 Built on those solid piers, 
 Will call to mind the friends I knew, 
 
 Who have crossed it many years. 
 
1 12 Nineteenth Century Poems. 
 
 THE OLD DESERTED HOME. 
 
 The old house by the road side, 
 Looks lonesome in the shade, 
 
 While on the gravel path-way, 
 The light and shadows played. 
 
 I watched the old time window, 
 
 Thrown open to the air, 
 I looked for the faces of children. 
 
 Who were no longer there. 
 
 Nothing but the house dog. 
 
 Stood watching by the door. 
 
 Still waiting for his playmates. 
 Who would return no more. 
 
 They walk no more in the path-way. 
 
 Their playing had ceased in the hall. 
 
 But shadows and silence and sadness, 
 Seem to cast a gloom over all. 
 
 The birds sang high in the tree tops. 
 With the sweetest familiar tone, 
 
 But the voice of children had vanished, 
 To be heard in dreams alone. 
 
Nineteenth Century Poems. 113 
 
 I took a look in the garden, 
 
 The flowers all blooming alone, 
 
 The pink and the lillies in blossom, 
 
 Seem to cheer the deserted old home. 
 
 I looked across over the meadow, 
 The horses and cattle all gone. 
 
 Nothing left to cheer or to comfort, 
 
 But the sound of the wild birds song. 
 
 I took a stroll in the orchard, 
 
 The apple trees all in full bloom, 
 
 The peach and the pear was in blossom, 
 The atmosphere filled with perfume. 
 
 I wandered along through the meadow, 
 
 Till I came to a clear flowing stream. 
 Sat down in the blue grass and clover, 
 'Looked back on the beautiful scene. 
 
 I viewed the old house in the distance. 
 
 The path where' the children have trod, 
 
 I wondered, oh I wondered where are they, 
 Their spirits have ascended to God. 
 
114 Nineteenth Century Poems. 
 
 THE HEALING BALM. 
 
 Of all the medicines that is made, 
 
 My liniment is the best 
 To^cure mankind of all his pains, 
 
 And give his body rest. 
 
 Howjmany ladies in the land, 
 
 Have complimented me, 
 To^^stop neuralgia in the face. 
 
 And set them once more free. 
 
 i ,^ ■■ - 
 
 Headache, toothache, no matter what, 
 How severe the pain may be, 
 
 Just rub on Fletcher's liniment, 
 From pain you will be free. 
 
 How many cases has been tried. 
 
 By other men in vain, 
 Who professed to stop the pain so quick. 
 
 And never ache again. 
 
 Stop dear friends and pause awhile. 
 There is one thing I'm sure, 
 
 Thousands of cases I have brought up. 
 Was thought could not be cured. 
 
Nineteenth Century Poems. 
 
 115 
 
 THE LOST CHILD. 
 
 One dreadful night when it was cold, 
 A little boy just five years old, 
 
 Did from his fathers homestead go, 
 On earth was never seen no more. 
 
 The night was dark and very cold. 
 
 They could not find the dear young soul. 
 The people searched the country all around, 
 
 But nowhere could the child be found. 
 
 Oh! who could tell the mothers' grief. 
 
 Who mourned for days with out relief, 
 
 And seemed as if she would go wild. 
 
 She prayed for God to spare her child. 
 
 It seemed as if her heart would break. 
 
 Her dear 3^0 ung child she could not get. 
 
 The neighbors searched the hills and streams. 
 But the little boy was nevermore seen. 
 
 Oh! who could tell the mothers grief, 
 
 Without the child there was no relief, 
 
 Where is the" boy? no human knows. 
 It surely died as all supposed. 
 
116 Nineteenth Century Poems. 
 
 THE DRUNKARD. 
 
 I met him on the street one day, 
 
 He was a sight to see, 
 His pockets both wrong-side out, 
 
 And drunk as he could be. 
 
 I tried to take him to his wife, 
 
 It was in the afternoon, 
 The weather it was very warm, 
 
 All in the month of June. 
 
 He was so drunk, could scarcely walk, 
 As all could plainh" see. 
 
 Three days and nights he had been out, 
 All on a drunken spree. 
 
 At last I took him to his house. 
 
 His wife was all alone. 
 Had watched and waited all this time, 
 
 Three days and nights did moan. 
 
Nineteenth Century Poems. 1 17 
 
 We put him in the bed that night, 
 He soon fell sound in sleep, 
 
 His poor wife with a broken heart, 
 She was compelled to weep. 
 
 He was so drunk he could not talk, 
 
 His brain all in a whirl. 
 He did not know if dead or alive, 
 
 Or living in this world. 
 
 Now all young ladies on this land, 
 
 I here will give advice, 
 Better to live single and all alone. 
 
 Than to becone a drunkard's wife. 
 
 Whiskey drives kind thoughts away, 
 Burns up the victims brain. 
 
 Runs the children almost wild, 
 
 Fills mother's heart with pain. 
 
1 18 Nineteenth Century Poems. 
 
 THE VISION OF JOB. 
 
 And I heard a voice saying, Shall mortal man be 
 more just than God? Shall a man be more pure than 
 his maker? Job, iv., 17. 
 
 As Job beheld the vision, 
 
 In the darkness of the night, 
 A^'spirit passed before him, 
 
 AVhich was a solemn sight. 
 
 While the spirit stood before him, 
 
 Job viewed it with his eyes, 
 His hair and flesh stood up. 
 
 Then the spirit passed him by. 
 
 Was this the voice from the spirit world, 
 
 That Job described so plain, 
 It must be one who long since died, 
 
 Come back to earth again. 
 
 Paul tells us in the scriptures, 
 And his holy words are true. 
 
 Some has the gift of healing. 
 And of discerning spirits too. 
 
 King Saul the Lord's anointed. 
 In the Holy book was said, 
 
 He implored the witch of Endors, 
 
 To bring up Samuel from the dead. 
 
Nineteenth Century Poems. 119 
 
 And when you read the scriptures, 
 
 You will find they teach the same, 
 That Samuel after he was dead, 
 
 Came back upon earth's plain. 
 
 Came back and did converse with Saul, 
 The Lord's anointed King you see, 
 
 Samuel told him that on tomorrow. 
 
 Thou and thy sons will be with me. 
 
 Why hast thou disquieted me, 
 
 The Prophet Samuel said, 
 This was the spirit spoke to Saul, 
 
 For he was numbered with the dead. 
 
 For in the battle on Mount Gilboa, 
 
 Fought with sword and shield. 
 The king of Israel and his sons. 
 
 Was slain upon the battle field. 
 
 So when you read the scriptures. 
 
 The truth to all is plain, 
 When the spirit leaves the body, 
 
 Can return to earth again. 
 
 They tell us that the spirit. 
 
 Are around us every day. 
 And all who lives a christian life. 
 
 Angels guide them day by day. 
 
 For thus fulfilled the teachings, 
 
 That the prophet Samuel said, 
 King Saul and his two sons. 
 
 Should be numbered with the dead. 
 
120 Nineteenth Century Poems. 
 
 THINKING. 
 
 Thinking is a powerful word^ 
 And dwells in every mind, 
 
 Just studied out the alphabet 
 Wrote books of every kind. 
 
 Thinking brings us all the news, 
 
 We read from foreign lands away, ' 
 
 And every man should strive to think, 
 To gain wisdom day by day. 
 
 Thinking keeps the mind employed. 
 In studying out great plans, 
 
 And every boy who strives and thinks, 
 Will become a useful man. 
 
 The mighty steamers that cross the sea. 
 Machinery all complete and grand, 
 
 Thinking first did get them up. 
 And laid out every single plan. 
 
 Thinking studied the earth and how, 
 Its hidden treasures to obtain. 
 
 And man has opened up the earth, 
 And riches soon did gain. 
 
Nineteenth Century Poems. 121 
 
 And thinking here will never cease, 
 
 Until life has ebbed away, 
 And until the soul is taken from, 
 
 This tenement of clay. 
 
 Thinking will then still go on, 
 
 To higher and nobler plans. 
 For God has placed it in the mind, 
 
 Or in the soul of man. 
 
 Thinking often destroys the mind. 
 
 Too much affects the brain, 
 Man should be careful how he thinks, 
 
 As constant worry will bring on pain. 
 
 Man should be thankful all his days, 
 
 And offer up his prayer and praise, 
 
 To him who gave the thinking power. 
 And should glorify him every hour. 
 
122 Nineteenth Century Poems. 
 
 THE WANDERER. 
 
 I have wandered in the meadows, 
 
 When it was all so green, 
 I have listened to the mocking-birds, 
 
 And heard them gaily sing. 
 
 I have wandered in the orchard, 
 When it was in full bloom, 
 
 I have often smelt its fragrance sweet, 
 Inhaled its sweet perfumes. 
 
 I have wandered over mountains, 
 And waded through the snow, 
 
 I have often felt the winter winds. 
 When OA^er the land-scape blow. 
 
 I have wandered over hills and brooks, 
 
 In countries far away, 
 Have wandered from my native home, 
 
 Where often I have played. 
 
Nineteenth Century Poems. 123 
 
 I have wandered on the waters. 
 
 And watched the waves so bright, 
 
 And watched the sea gulls flying, 
 Until disappeared from sight. 
 
 I have wandered on the mountain top, 
 
 A distance touring up so high, 
 I have looked upon the silvery clouds, 
 . Floating beneath the bright blue sky. 
 
 I have wandered on the ocean deep. 
 Watched ships sail out of sight, 
 
 I have wandered to the house of God, 
 For that is my hearts delight. 
 
 1 have wandered to the old church yard, 
 And looked on the different mounds. 
 
 Then often think of those who sleep, 
 Beneath the cold, cold ground. 
 
124 Nineteenth Century Poems. 
 
 THE VACANT CHAIR. 
 
 The old man was all alone^ 
 
 Sat down and bowed his head, 
 
 His wife the joy of his life, 
 
 Now sleeps with the silent dead. 
 
 She was laid out on a narrow plank, 
 Her features just the same, 
 
 Her loving friends all gathered round, 
 To look on her remains. 
 
 And there the old man sat alone, 
 And looked on that empty chair. 
 
 That dear old wife he long had loved. 
 Would never more sit there. 
 
 And when the sun sinks in the west, 
 The stars shine bright above. 
 
 The old man looks at the vacant chair, 
 Then thinks of the one he loves. 
 
 And as he sits there all alone. 
 
 For grief has bowed his head, 
 
 He looks upon that vacant chair, 
 
 And mourns for the one now dead. 
 
Nineteenth Century Poems. 125 
 
 And as he sits in loneliness, 
 
 His heart all filled with pain, 
 
 He kneels beside that vacant chair, 
 And pleads with God again. 
 
 Then as he prayed in humbleness. 
 And shed tears upon the floor, 
 
 The dear old wife long since been gone, 
 Will return to earth no more. 
 
 Again he lifts his heart to God, 
 
 At midnight all alone, 
 And prays that he may join his wife, 
 
 Around that shining throne. 
 
 For age has brought him near the end, 
 
 '4 His hair grown white as snow. 
 There will be another vacant chair, 
 For the old man soon will go. 
 
 We cannot remain always on earth, 
 We have our toils and cares. 
 
 And almost every house you see. 
 Will have one vacant chair. 
 
126 Nineteenth Century Poems. 
 
 THE TATTLER. 
 
 Some people are ver}^ anxious. 
 To run down other names^ 
 
 And talk about their neighbors, 
 When thev are all to blame. 
 
 I have often seen these people, 
 A turning up their nose^ 
 
 Laugh at the poor honest man, 
 Who has on tattered clothes. 
 
 It makes me think of Lazarus, 
 
 Was a christian man is said, 
 Laid at the rich man's gate, 
 ! And begged for crumbs of bread. 
 
 But alas poor Lazarus died. 
 And ascended up on high, 
 
 Toilive in peace and happiness. 
 On earth no more to die. 
 
 At last the rich man died, 
 
 All robed in linen well. 
 But when he woke he found his soul, 
 
 A struggling down in hell. 
 
 I fear some of these people. 
 
 Who loved to talk so well. 
 
 Will be just like the rich man. 
 And sink their souls in hell. 
 
Nineteenth Century Poems. 127 
 
 THE HOME OF THE BLEST. 
 
 There is is a land so pure and bright, 
 No human eye has ever seen, 
 
 Bright crystal waters always flow, 
 And trees of living green. 
 
 This land is for the christian soul, 
 
 And will be their hearts delight, 
 
 Midnight darkness^all fade away. 
 With one perpetual light. 
 
 When we pass through the toils of life, 
 And view that heavenly rest, 
 
 Well enter in that happy home. 
 And live with all the blest. 
 
 We'll join our loved ones over there. 
 Who long since passed before. 
 
 They watch us cross the stream of death. 
 And greet us on the other shore. 
 
128 Nineteenth Century.Poems. 
 
 From sin and death we will be free, 
 And parting never more shall be. 
 
 Oh! won't that be a happy place, 
 
 To meet our loved ones face to face . 
 
 When toils of life on earth are done, 
 We then shall sweetly rest, 
 
 And join our loved ones over there, 
 Then be forever blest. 
 
 This happy home is now prepared. 
 Our blessed Savior told us so, 
 
 A mansion in that heavenly home. 
 Where all true christians go. 
 
 Why should we fear the monster death, 
 From sin will then be free. 
 
 And then go home forever blest, 
 Our loved ones for to see. 
 
Nineteenth Century Poems. 129 
 
 THE FALL OF BABYLON. 
 
 Belshazzar the King made a feast to a thousand of 
 
 his lords, 
 Drank from the golden vessels as the holy book 
 
 records, 
 Praised the Gods of gold and silver, Idols made of stone 
 In honor of the ro3''al king while seated on the 
 
 throne. 
 
 Bring forth and set before him, the golden vessels 
 
 shine, 
 The king bowed unto Baal and drank the dark wine, 
 While the trumpets and cymbals in revelry all ring, 
 With mirth, drinking and praising Belshazzar the king 
 
 Belshazzar took the lead with a thousand of his lords 
 With false enchantment and revelry blaspheme the 
 
 word of God, 
 The power of his kingdom with his sparkling diamond.. 
 
 bright, 
 Am^thing for wordly amusement, that was his hearts 
 
 delight. 
 
 In the height of his revelry, flaming letters wrote upon 
 
 the wall, 
 The doom of Belshazzar could be read by one and all 
 The sacred hand or finger wrote in firy letters bright 
 Showing the Kingdom is rent from Belshazzar, on 
 
 this night. 
 
130 Nineteenth Century Poems. 
 
 For there the God of heaven would no longer let him 
 
 reign, 
 In the height of his glory^ the royal king was slain, 
 With all his gold and silver, and sparkling diamonds 
 
 bright, 
 Could not sta}^ the hand, that wrote his doom that, 
 
 night. 
 
 For thus we see the ruler, a king of royal fame, 
 
 At the banquet of his thousand lords blaspheme God's 
 
 holy name, 
 They danced to the music and drank the flowing wine, 
 A dizzy scene,in decorated halls, delusion of every kind. 
 
 80 Babylon is fallen, a city proud and grand, 
 Ruled by a wicked king, who defiled Jehovah's name 
 In the height of their revelry, and in that ancient hall 
 God sent a messenger to write his doom upon the wall. 
 
 This should be a warning to each and every one of fame 
 No matter how much riches or millions you have 
 
 gained. 
 For there was king Belshazzar in a city grand and tall 
 ,For disobedience to God his doom was sealed upon 
 the wall. 
 
Nineteenth Century Poems. 131 
 
 THE BED OF DEATH. 
 
 I stood by his bed and watched his dim eyes, 
 For I knew the death message was there, 
 
 I sang him a song to cheer up his soul, 
 
 That was fast sinking down in despair. 
 
 I knew every breath grew shorter in death, 
 And his time was near to an end, 
 
 I knelt down that day and to Jesus did pray, 
 To save the soul of my poor friend. 
 
 And alas! he did go from his friends here below, 
 He has crossed over Jordan's cold wave. 
 
 His spirit at rest in the land of the blest. 
 And his ashes now sleep in the grave. 
 
 Weep not for him here, Oh ! shed not a tear. 
 For he never will come back no more, 
 
 He has gone to the blest ,and with Jesus to rest. 
 For angels have opened the door. 
 
132 Nineteenth Century Poems. 
 
 THE BLIND MAN. 
 
 Poor man! you are blind and helpless, 
 You cannot see the days so bright, 
 
 All your pleasures long have faded, 
 
 Since you lost your precious sight. 
 
 All your bright days have been darkened, 
 No pleasure here from day to day, 
 
 0! how I pity your condition. 
 
 While you wander on your way. 
 
 Yes, my eyes long since have faded. 
 All this world is dark to me, 
 
 Though I have a hope of seeing, 
 
 When I am called from time, away. 
 
 I am traveling here in darkness, 
 
 And cannot see the shining day, 
 
 This makes me think of blind Bartemus, 
 Who called the Savior bv the wav. 
 
Nineteenth Century Poems. 133 
 
 Jesus Christ, thou son of David, 
 
 Wilt thou please come by this way? 
 
 For here I grope my way in darkness, 
 I never saw the light of day. 
 
 And Jesus called to blind Bartemus, 
 
 Then asked what wilt thou have me do? 
 
 O! that my eyes may be opened^ 
 
 That I may see and go with you. 
 
 And Jesus said to blind Bartemus, 
 As thy faith is, be it to thee, 
 
 And from that very precious moment, 
 
 His eyes are opened, behold! he sees! 
 
 But still, I wander here forlornly, 
 
 I oft times meet with those unkind, 
 
 O! this is a sad condition, 
 
 All is dark to me, I'm blind. 
 
 If I but reach the heavenly mansion, 
 And join the angels robed in white, 
 
 There the Lord will smile upon me, 
 
 And turn my darkness back to light. 
 
 Through faith I have a hope of heaven, 
 To wear a crown as angels bright, 
 
 O! I shall see there joyful greetings, 
 
 Where all the blind's restored to sight. 
 
134 Nineteenth Century Poems. 
 
 TO A LITTLE GIRL 
 
 The day is bright and very clear, 
 The air^is freash and cool, 
 
 My youthful days 1^11 try to spend, 
 The most of them in school. 
 
 My parents they are good to me, 
 And treat me ver}^ kind, 
 
 They spend their money out for me, 
 To educate my mind. 
 
 To Sabbath School 3'^ou ought to go, 
 And read the book of God, 
 
 And drive old Satan from your path, 
 Keep on the heavenly road. 
 
 So, Julia vrlien you come to die, 
 May angels round j^ou stand, 
 
 And waft your soul to God above, 
 To join the heavenly band. 
 
Nineteenth Century Poems. 135 
 
 TO ONE I LOVED. 
 
 I once did love a fair young lady, 
 In a city she did dwell, 
 
 She visited the country, 
 
 And my love to her did tell. 
 
 One evening out to meeting, 
 With this lady I did go, 
 
 I thought I would ask her, 
 
 If she w^ould marry me or no. 
 
 She looked up at me smilingly, 
 And thus to me did say, 
 
 I will marry you dear Johnny, 
 Just name that happy day. 
 
 Two months will do, dear Mattie, 
 If you on me will wait. 
 
 She says, ''I will'^, dear Johnny, 
 To you I'll trust my fate. 
 
 But instead of getting married, 
 
 To Texas I did go. 
 So farewell, Miss Mattie, 
 
 I may never see you more. 
 
 This lady she did marry, 
 
 A lover she did gain. 
 But Johnny he is single, 
 
 \nd single I m ill remain. 
 
136 Nineteenth Century Poems. 
 
 THE ONE T LOVE BEST. 
 
 Cold is the day and the sun can not shine, 
 
 My pleasures are all fading, I see, 
 For since T have left thee, m}- darling 3^0 ung <>irl, 
 
 No pleasures on earth here for me. 
 
 All pleasures have faded, my darling young girl. 
 
 Since I have wandered so far from my home. 
 While the sweet little birds their songs sweetly sing, 
 
 And bright flowers are faded and gone. 
 
 But cold is the day and dark is the night, 
 
 My hours are passing off slow, 
 I will not forget thee, my darling young girl, 
 
 If on earth I should turn back no more. 
 
 I will not forget thee, my darling young girl, 
 
 M}^ heart to you it is true, 
 I will now forsake all other young girls. 
 
 And in wedlock be bound unto you. 
 
 If your heart is like mine, my darling young girl, 
 
 You have no right to fear. 
 For there is no lady now under the sun. 
 
 That I ever could love half so dear. 
 
Nineteenth Century Poems. 137 
 
 THE DEAD PAUPER. 
 
 Thou art gone from this world of sorrow, 
 
 No more on it to stay, 
 For God did call thy spirit home, 
 
 It passed from time away. 
 
 Thou once had health, friends and wealth. 
 
 But all did disappear, 
 But now thy fate is sad indeed, 
 
 Thy eyes are bathed in tears. 
 
 You lingered on for many da^^s, 
 Thy body racked with pain. 
 
 Till God did call thy spirit home, 
 On earth it could not remain. 
 
 No kindred near to take thy part, 
 
 To ease thy aching head, 
 But thou didst linger out thy days, 
 
 And suffered on thy bed. 
 
 Thou didst leave thy native State, 
 
 And died in Texas land. 
 No friends to see thy last breath leave. 
 
 Or take thy parting hand. 
 
 Poor man, thy suffering is no more. 
 Thy body is covered with the sod, 
 
 Thy spirit took its flight. 
 
 And winged its wav to God. 
 
138 Nineteenth Century Poems. 
 
 THINK OF ME. 
 
 Oh! yes 111 alwa3^s think of thee, 
 Of days that's past and gone, 
 
 I hope that we may meet again, 
 In future days to dawn. 
 
 Oh! yes I'll often think of thee, 
 
 When you are far away, 
 And hope that we ma}^ both yet meet, 
 
 To pass the time awa3^ 
 
 I'll think of thee in the gloomy night, 
 
 I'll think all day of thee, 
 I'll think of pleasures past and gone, 
 
 We never more can see. 
 
 I'll think of thee while I am at home, 
 
 And when I go to play, 
 I'll think of thee when the sweet birds sing. 
 
 Throughout the woods so gay. 
 
 I'll think of pleasure past and gone, 
 
 That we will no more see, 
 I'll think of those we loved so long. 
 
 And always think of thee. 
 
Nineteenth Century Poems. 139 
 
 TO MOTHER. 
 
 I am thinking of thee^ mother dear, 
 
 Since I have wandered far from thee, 
 
 I am thinking of the days that are past, 
 We never more can see. 
 
 I am thinking of thee, mother dear, 
 
 When I am all alone, 
 I am thinking of the happy days 
 
 I spent with thee at home. 
 
 I am thinking of my childhood days, 
 That long have passed away, 
 
 I am thinking of the solemn morn, 
 When I from you did stray. 
 
 I am thinking of you mother dear. 
 
 And of yom- pleasant smiles. 
 And of the fondness you bestowed. 
 
 When I was but a child. 
 
 Oh! mother, I will think of thee, 
 
 Although your face I cannot see, 
 
 I'll not forget the parting hand, 
 When first I left my native land. 
 
 There is no heart that is true like thine. 
 For love like your's 111 never find, 
 
 But mother, when these lines you see. 
 
 Think of your son that is far from thee. 
 
 For if I live I will return, 
 
 Back to my native State once more, 
 And be content to stay at home. 
 
 And never more from you roam. 
 
140 Nineteenth Century Poems. 
 
 TO CHILDREN. 
 
 Remember, youth, as you go on, 
 
 Days that are past will return no more, 
 But while you yet are spared from the tomb, 
 
 Prepare your souls for heaven's door. 
 
 Remember that you are hastening on, 
 
 Down to the gloomy grave, 
 Remember if you die in sin, 
 
 Your souls cannot be saved. 
 
 Remember God, who gave his son. 
 
 To die that 3^0 u might live. 
 Remember, if you pray in faith, 
 
 Your sins he will forgive. 
 
 Remember, if you have true faith, 
 
 God his love will give. 
 Remember, when you sink in death, 
 
 Your souls in Christ will live. 
 
 Remember Peter left the ship, 
 To walk upon the waves. 
 
 Remember he began to sink, 
 
 God saved him from the graA'-e. 
 
 Remember weakness of his faith. 
 But still his God he loved. 
 
 Remember Peter is now at rest. 
 With God in heaven above. 
 
Nineteenth Century Poems. 141 
 
 THE BATTLE. 
 
 Hark! I hear the cannon's roar, 
 
 Tis a signal for a fight, 
 Now I see a cloud arising, 
 
 Before the sun that shines so bright. 
 
 Now I hear the shout of soldiers, 
 All are charging for the fight, 
 
 Soon some of them will be dying, 
 
 And weltering in their blood tonight. 
 
 Poor soldiers,you have fought so brave. 
 Now vou hove lost your life 
 
 And left behind your children dear, 
 Also your mourning wife. 
 
 Now upon the field you suffer, 
 There to welter in your blood. 
 
 No one now to aid or help you, 
 None but the aid of God. 
 
142 Nineteenth Century Poems. 
 
 TEXAS HUNTERS. 
 
 The huntmen blow their horns, 
 The hounds all come around, 
 
 Let's all make haste get in the chase, 
 To kill a deer or fawn. 
 
 The deer runs with all his force, 
 And leaves the hounds behind, 
 
 But still they yell and never stop. 
 
 Till they drive him through the stand. 
 
 The huntsmen they are all prepared, 
 
 And waiting at the stand, 
 To kill the deer if he comes near, 
 
 While running through the land. 
 
 We often hear the huntsman's horn. 
 
 When tired of the chase. 
 Hounds will come though wearied out. 
 
 And tired of the race, 
 
 The deer will run with all his force, 
 
 Till he is out of sight. 
 He'll plunge into the darkest woods. 
 
 And stay there till it's night. 
 
 The Huntsman he will blow his horn. 
 
 And give him up for gone. 
 And go home though tired out. 
 
 And rest for another morn. 
 
Nineteenth Century Poems. 143 
 
 WHAT IS A MAN. 
 
 What is man but a lump of clay, 
 For God has made him so, 
 
 And gave him a talent to cultivate, 
 While here on earth below. 
 
 What makes him stoop to vice and sin, 
 
 To sink his soul in hell, 
 Why can't he strive to please his God, 
 
 And in heaven forever dwell. 
 
 This world is full of sinful charms. 
 To please the eye so well, 
 
 And cause the soul to sink beneath, 
 The firy pits of hell. 
 
 But a Christian when he comes to die, 
 He'll raise his eyes on high. 
 
 His soul will waft its way to God, 
 Above the bright blue sky. 
 
144 Nineteenth Century Poems 
 
 SOME FORTY YEARS OR MORE. 
 
 I visited the home of my youth, 
 
 And stood upon the old school ground, 
 I watched the little stream below, 
 
 As I did some forty years or more. 
 
 The woodland is now all cleared up, 
 Wheat in the field now grows, 
 
 This calls me back to youthful days 
 Some forty years or more. 
 
 The old school-house was moved away. 
 
 No trace of it was found. 
 And everything looked desolate, 
 
 Except the old play-ground. 
 
 The old oak trees were once so small. 
 
 Now grown up large and high, 
 'Their foliage shades the old play-ground. 
 Beneath the bright blue sky. 
 
 And as I viewed that old play-ground. 
 My heart beat sad and slow, 
 
 It was there I spent my youthful days, 
 Some fortv vears or more. 
 
Nineteenth Century Poems. 145 
 
 The bo3^s and girls, Oh where are the}^. 
 So often played upon this ground, 
 
 Most all of them have passed away, ' 
 Now sleep beneath the mounds. 
 
 What few are left are growing old, 
 
 Our hair is turning white as snow, 
 
 This calls to mind the days long past, 
 Some forty years or more. 
 
 The old pla3^-ground, is just the same, 
 
 Few changes could I see. 
 But still I felt those forty years, 
 
 Have wrought a change in me. 
 
 And while I view the hills and rocks. 
 
 And watched the little streams below, 
 
 I was carried back to days long past. 
 Some fortv years or more. 
 
146 Nineteenth Cbntubt Poems. 
 
 SUCCEED TO SUCCESS. 
 
 I shall succeed press to the front, 
 Through life I '11 do my best, 
 
 To keep above the tidal wave, • 
 Then be forever blest. 
 
 Success shall be mj^ watch word here, 
 In all my toils through life, 
 
 Succeed to help my fallen man, 
 In sickness, pain and strife. 
 
 Success shall crown me by and by, 
 When bloom of youth has fled, 
 
 And then look back on days gone by, 
 And think of friends now dead. 
 
 Succeed in all I undertake, 
 
 Success shall be my plan. 
 To do my best while here on earth. 
 
 To helpjmy fellow man. 
 
Nineteenth Century Poems. 147 
 
 Succeed Avill fill my heart with love, 
 Success shall be my plan, 
 
 To help poor mortals here on earth, 
 And become a useful man. 
 
 Succeed to live a Christian life, 
 
 Assist poor mortals here below, 
 
 While traveling to that better land, 
 Where all true Christians go. 
 
 Succeed to help each other here. 
 While in this world of woe, 
 
 Successful in our Christian work, 
 While toilnig here below. 
 
 Then when the trials of life are past, 
 And our last day's work is done, 
 
 Will then lie down and sweetly rest, 
 Beneath the setting sun. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 A Prayer 7 
 
 A Lover of Jesus 8 
 
 A Change of Mind 10 
 
 Angels visits in the night ' ■ 12 
 
 A Wanderer in the spirit land 14 
 
 After Death 16 
 
 An orphan child's fate 18 
 
 A scolding wife 19 
 
 A fish fry 20 
 
 Bright side of life 21 
 
 By request of a lady for her niotlier 23 
 
 Blind James ' '.;... 24 
 
 Christ asleep on the shiji ■ 25 
 
 Change of heart 27 
 
 Change of fashion 28 
 
 Coming to Texas 29 
 
 Drifting 30 
 
 Death of a Baptist minister 32 
 
 Death of President Garfield 33 
 
 Dying child * 34 
 
 Death 35 
 
 Death of little George 36 
 
 Death of my Brother 37 
 
 Faith in Christ 38 
 
 Fret not thy-self : ! 44 
 
 From Kentucky to Texas : 48 
 
 Fair but false 45 
 
 Found dead 47 
 
 Farewell Miss Etta 40 
 
 Farewell 41 
 
 Forsaken love 42 
 
 Flowing streams 43 
 
 Gone to rest 49 
 
 Gathering flowers 50 
 
 Heaven 51 
 
 Happy spring time 53 
 
Husband, Mother and Child 55 
 
 Hope 56 
 
 High tempered Girl 53 
 
 How to select a husband 57 
 
 I am waiting for ypu . ' 62 
 
 Indian's Lamentation 59 
 
 In memory of mother 64 
 
 In memory of Alfred Fletcher 66 
 
 In torment 67 
 
 In Remembrance 68 
 
 Jacob's Vision 69 
 
 Little Rosa Lee 'ji 
 
 Love 72 
 
 Moses before Pharoah 73 
 
 My Father 75 
 
 Miss Mattie C 77 
 
 My Mother 73 
 
 Miss Marcie , §1 
 
 Nature's God ' 79 
 
 Not too late ." 30 
 
 Old year passing awaj^ .- 32 
 
 On troubles 34 
 
 On Education 35 
 
 Pleading for Jesus , • 36 
 
 Past Life 33 
 
 Passing away 39 
 
 Remembrance 90 
 
 Return my ring 92 
 
 Secret Prayer 93 
 
 Sacred Mountain 94 
 
 Some forty years or more 144 
 
 Succeed to success 146 
 
 Ship in mid ocean 96 
 
 Suicide of a young lady 93 
 
 Scenes on the mountains 99 
 
 Sabbath school children 102 
 
 She loved another IO3 
 
 Sickness and death 104 
 
 Sabbath school IO5 
 
 Time and its flight IO3 
 
 The bashful young Man 106 
 
 Thoughts while Alone 107 
 
 The Creation of the world 109 
 
 The old famihar bridge HO 
 
 The old deserted Home 112 
 
The healing balm 114 
 
 The lost Child 115 
 
 The Drunkard 116 
 
 The Vision of Job 118 
 
 Thinkmg 120 
 
 The Wanderer 122 
 
 The Vacant Chair 124 
 
 The Tattler 126 
 
 The Home of the Blest 127 
 
 The Fall of Babylon 129 
 
 The Bed of Death 131 
 
 The Blind Man 132 
 
 Think of Me 138 
 
 To Mother , 139 
 
 To Children.. . 140 
 
 To A little Girl , ; 134 
 
 To one I loved 135 
 
 The one I love best 136 
 
 The Dead Pauper 137 
 
 The Battle 141 
 
 Texas Hunters 142 
 
 What is Man? 143 
 
wov 1 1909 
 
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